Let us remember that these old love letters, so fragrant with faded affections, were being received by Papa Haydn even while he was writing to Polzelli, rejoicing in the closing of two of those four baleful eyes that forbade their union.  And let us not judge too harshly the Italian woman who had given this unbeautiful Austrian of such beautiful genius so much of her sunshine and tenderness.  Nor let us judge too harshly the enamoured English widow.  Why indeed need we judge harshly at all?

When Haydn died he had no child to leave his wealth to—­even the fable that Anton Polzelli was his natural son is taken away from us by Pohl, who points out how small and temporary was the provision made for him in Haydn’s will.

Among the heirlooms left by Haydn was a watch given to him by that Admiral of Admirals, Lord Nelson—­and that points to us as a by-path, which it were pleasant, though forbidden now, to wander, the story of Nelson’s fervent amour with Lady Hamilton, that beautiful work of art, that pet of artists.

As a postscript to Haydn’s story we may tag on here a concise statement in his note-book, of the domestic affairs of one whom we do not think of now as a musician.

“On June 15th, I went from Windsor to Slough to Doctor Herschel, where I saw the great telescope.  It is forty feet long and five feet in diameter.  The machinery is vast, but so ingenious that a single man can put it in motion with ease.  There are also two smaller telescopes, of which one is twenty-two feet long and magnifies six thousand times.  The king had two made for himself, of which each measures twelve Schuh.  He gave him one thousand guineas for them.  In his younger days Doctor Herschel was in the Prussian service as an oboe player.  In the seven years’ war he deserted with his brother and came to England.  For many years he supported himself with music, became organist at Bath, turned, however, to astronomy.  After providing himself with the necessary instruments he left Bath, rented a room not far from Windsor, and studied day and night.  His landlady was a widow.  She fell in love with him, married him, and gave him a dowry of L100,000.  Besides this he has L500 for life, and his wife, who is forty-five years old, presented him with a son this year, 1792.  Ten years ago he had his sister come; she is of the greatest service to him in his observations.  Frequently he sits from five to six hours under the open sky in the severest cold.”

CHAPTER X.

THE MAGNIFICENT BACHELOR

Two young and flamboyant musickers, boon companions, one twenty-two and the other eighteen, strike the town of Luebeck in 1703.  They are drawn thither by a vacancy in the post of town-organist.  And their competition is to be friendly.

Two flamboyant young musickers leave the town of Luebeck as soon as can be.  For they have learned that the successful candidate must marry the daughter of the man in whose shoes they would fain have trodden the pedals.  One look at the daughter was enough.  She was not fair to see, and her years were thirty-four—­just six years less than the total years of the two young candidates.