was not commonly used, however, until about
1702. A harpsichord on exhibition at the South Kensington Museum in
London bears the date of 1521. A step towards the present-day
construction of the piano is shown by the fact that there were always
two wire strings to each note and sometimes three or four, and that it
had a keyboard covering five octaves. It was like an organ in that it
had register stops and sometimes a double keyboard.

Hans Ruckers, of Antwerp, was the most celebrated maker of the
harpsichord in those days. One of his best specimens belongs to the
Drexel collection in New York. Handel delighted in his Ruckers
harpsichord and gave it preference over all others, which is adequate
proof of its superiority. It was his pleasure to play upon it long after
his failing eyesight forbade the use of notes. He had to improvise
entirely, but was so expert that the orchestra with whom he played was
often diverted by his wonderful accompaniments. This partiality was
resented by the soloists and one of them told Handel that if he ever
played him such a trick while he was singing, he would jump down on his
harpsichord and smash it. This amused Handel immensely and he exclaimed,
"You vill jump, vill you? Varey well, sare. Be so kind und tell me ven
you vill jump, und I vill advertise it in der bills." We are told that
every key of Handel's instrument was hollowed like the bowl of a spoon,
so incessant was his practice. One very lovely harpsichord still in
existence has its history veiled in mystery, but the supposition is that
it once belonged to Marie Antoinette.

[Illustration: Dulcimer]

Clementi had one of the last harpsichords made. The date upon the case
was 1802. Beethoven's famous "Moonlight Sonata" was written for either
harpsichord or piano. It was published in 1802. Hummel played on the
harpsichord as late as 1805, but it had to give way, though most
reluctantly, to the new invention called the pianoforte. Just how slow
the public was in accepting the innovation and improvement upon the
instruments mentioned, the following quotation from a folio gotten out
by Thomas Mace, who was one of the clerks of Trinity College, at the
University of Cambridge, testifies. He was pleased to call his booklet
"Musick's Monument," and it was printed in 1676 in London.

He scorned the new invention but warmly upheld the lute and viol. He
explained that the lute was once considered difficult to play because it
had too few str