Fielding, in "Tom Jones," has an amusing hit at the taste of the period:
"It was Mr. Western's custom every afternoon, as soon as he was drunk,
to hear his daughter play on the harpsichord; for he was a great lover
of music, and perhaps, had he lived in town, might have passed as a
connoisseur, for he always excepted against the finest compositions of
Mr. Handel."

So much had it become the fashion to criticise Handel's new effects in
vocal and instrumental composition, that some years later Mr. Sheridan
makes one of his characters fire a pistol simply to shock the audience,
and makes him say in a stage whisper to the gallery, "This hint,
gentlemen, I took from Handel."

The composer's Oxford experience was rather amusing and suggestive.
We find it recorded that in July, 1733, "one Handell, a foreigner, was
desired to come to Oxford to perform in music." Again the same writer
says: "Handell with his lousy crew, a great number of foreign fiddlers,
had a performance for his own benefit at the theatre." One of the dons
writes of the performance as follows: "This is an innovation; but every
one paid his five shillings to try how a little fiddling would sit upon
him. And, notwithstanding the barbarous and inhuman combination of such
a parcel of unconscionable scamps, he [Handel] disposed of the most of
his tickets."

"Handel and his lousy crew," however, left Oxford with the prestige of
a magnificent victory. His third oratorio, "Athaliah," was received with
vast applause by a great audience. Some of his university admirers, who
appreciated academic honors more than the musician did, urged him to
accept the degree of Doctor of Music, for which he would have to pay a
small fee. The characteristic reply was a Parthian arrow: "Vat te tevil