Story-Lives of Great Musicians | Page 4

forgetfulness. As he lay sleeping--his dreams filled with the realization
of the fruits of his untiring industry--the books lying open on the table
where he had left them, and the moonbeams falling gently on the page
whereon his fingers had traced those last passages but a few minutes
before, the door opened, and a figure stole softly into the room. It was
Christoph himself, who, fancying he heard sounds proceeding from
Sebastian's chamber, had come to seek the cause. His glance fell upon
the open books. With a stride he was at the table, bending over them.
The next moment he raised his head and darted an angry glance at the
child's sleeping figure. But Sebastian only smiled, and murmured
something in his sleep, and the elder brother turned once more to
examine the writing. As he scanned the pages which witnessed
Sebastian's heart-work throughout those long months his face hardened.
There was no pity in his breast for the child who had thus displayed his
devotion to the art which he himself must have loved after his own
fashion--no sympathy for one who had spent so many hours snatched
from sleep in acquiring that which he, Christoph, had had it in his
power to bestow as a free gift--only anger and jealousy at the thought
that he had been outwitted by his little brother. With his mouth curved

into a cruel smile, Christoph seized the manuscript book and the copy,
and, taking them from the room, hid them away in a new place where
Sebastian could not possibly find them.
[Illustration: 'Christoph seized the manuscript book and the copy.']
It was well for Sebastian that his love of music enabled him to
overcome the bitter disappointment occasioned by his brother's cruelty,
and so to continue the struggle for knowledge in the face of such
terrible odds. But there was one thing which served to comfort him in
his hour of trial, and of which Christoph was powerless to rob him, and
that was the memory of the beautiful music he had copied with such
infinite pains. This in itself must have been a resource of priceless
value to him in helping him to bear with his brother's oppression.
A new life opened for Sebastian when, at the age of fifteen, he quitted
his brother's roof and, with a school-fellow from Ohrdruff, entered the
Michael Gymnasium, or Latin School, attached to the Church of St.
Michael at Lüneburg. The discovery that he possessed a beautiful
soprano voice gave him a place at once amongst those scholars who
were selected to sing the principal parts in the Church services in return
for a free education. Lüneburg possessed two schools, attached
respectively to the Churches of St. Michael and St. John, and the
rivalry between the two was so keen that when, as was the custom
during the winter months, the scholars were sent out to sing in the
streets in order to collect money for their support, the respective routes
to be traversed had to be carefully marked out so as to prevent a
collision.
Bach had not been long at St. Michael's, however, ere his wonderful
voice, which had attracted much attention at the services of the church,
began to break; but, fortunately, his knowledge of the violin and clavier
enabled him to retain his place in the school and to enjoy the
educational advantages which it offered. He was working hard at his
musical studies, spending a portion of each day in the convent library,
where the works of the best composers were to be found. But all his
thoughts and aspirations were beginning to centre themselves upon the
instrument which, before all others, had the power to stir his musical

soul to its depths. His love for the organ soon developed into a passion
which overcame every obstacle offered to its gratification. The
extremes of hunger and bodily fatigue were alike powerless to restrain
his desire to study the capacities of the organ as these were brought
forth by the ablest hands. His poverty forbade the hope of his receiving
instruction on the instrument, though later on he gained much valuable
help from his friendship with the organist of St. John's Church at
Lüneburg. In those early days, however, Bach was almost entirely
self-dependent--a penniless scholar, fortunate in finding his services
rewarded by the plainest and meagrest of fare, yet swayed and urged
forwards by a fixed determination to conquer and attain the knowledge
upon which he had set his hopes.
[Illustration: 'During the winter months the scholars were sent out to
sing in the streets.']
Hamburg, which in those days merited the description applied to it of
the 'Paradise of German music,' is situated at a distance of about
twenty-five English miles from Lüneburg; but when Bach was told