Transcriber's note

Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice. All otherinconsistencies are as in the original. The author's spelling has beenmaintained. 

 SKETCH OF

 HANDEL AND BEETHOVEN. 

 Two Lectures, DELIVERED IN

 THE LECTURE HALL OF THE WIMBLEDON VILLAGE CLUB, ON MONDAY EVENING, DEC. 14, 1863; AND MONDAY EVENING, JAN. 11, 1864. 

 BY THE REV. T. HANLY BALL, A. B. , CURATE AND LECTURER OF ST. MARY'S, WIMBLEDON. 

 Published at the request and expense of a Parishioner. 

 LONDON: CHARLES J. SKEET, 10, KING WILLIAM STREET, CHARING CROSS. 1864. 

DEDICATION. 

 TO JOHN A. BEAUMONT ESQ. , WIMBLEDON PARK HOUSE. 

MY DEAR MR. BEAUMONT, Seneca has well said, "The three main points in the question ofbenefits, are, first, a judicious choice in the object; secondly, in thematter of our benevolence; and thirdly, in the manner of expressing it. "

Of the first, it would not be becoming in me to speak; of the second, you are the rightful judge; of the third, I beg leave thus publicly tostate, that not only in requesting permission to publish this lecture atyour own expense but _on many other occasions_, you have fully come upto Seneca's idea of what a benefactor ought to be. 

I shall not attempt describing what I hope you give me credit for;_Furnius_ never gained so much upon _Augustus_ as by a speech, upon thegetting of his father's pardon for siding with _Anthony_, "THIS GRACE, "says he, "IS THE ONLY INJURY THAT EVER CÆSAR DID ME; FOR IT HAS PUT MEUPON A NECESSITY OF LIVING AND DYING UNGRATEFUL. "

Allow me to dedicate the little volume to you, and believe me, ever toremain, Your obedient and faithful Servant, T. HANLY BALL. 

_Wimbledon, 12th February, 1864. _

PREFACE. 

A brief account of "The Wimbledon Village Club" will explain the originand object of the two following Lectures. 

"The design of the Institution is to afford to the inhabitants, and moreespecially the working and middle classes of Wimbledon and its vicinity, opportunities of intellectual and moral improvement, and rational andsocial enjoyment, through the medium of a Reading Room and Library, Lectures and Classes. "[A]

The Reading Room is supplied with Daily and Weekly Newspapers, Periodicals, and Books. 

The Library contains upwards of Six Hundred volumes, all which havebeen presented to the Institution. 

The Lectures are on various literary and scientific subjects. 

To these have been recently added, _Readings_ and _Chat Meetings_. 

_Readings_, are three short readings from some popular author, bydifferent readers, on the same evening. 

"_Chat Meetings_ are simplifications of a soirée, or a conversazione. They originated in the idea that many parishioners, having in theirhomes interesting objects, the examination of which would affordpleasure and instruction to their fellow-parishioners, would on certainoccasions gladly take these objects to a room appointed for the purpose, and display and explain them. "[B]

Mr. Toynbee, the _Fidus Achates_ of the Club, has, in his admirable"Hints on the Formation of Local Museums, " well said--"The WimbledonClub is admirably calculated to meet the wants of the working classes, as regards their recreation and instruction. While it furnishesamusement and instruction to all classes, it brings them together at itsvarious meetings in friendly intercourse; the management of theInstitution, and the organization of its several proceedings, afford avaluable experience to the Committee, who portion among themselves theirrespective work; and the preparation of the Lectures, &c. , proves ahealthy mental stimulus to those intelligent inhabitants who desire totake part in _one of the most delightful of duties, viz. , the conveyanceto the minds of others an interest in those pleasing andelevating subjects from which, happily their own minds derivegratification_. "--"Hints, " pp. 8, 9. 

Should these Lectures again interest any of the large and attentiveaudiences with which they were honoured, I will consider myselfjustified in having consented to their publication, and feel happy to bethe medium of imparting information, even on a secular subject, to thosewhom it is my duty, and is my pleasure, to profit and please. 

It is scarcely necessary for me to say, biographical lectures arechiefly the result of reading and research;[C] I have, however, somewhatfully expressed my opinions on the advantages of music, and very freelyon one or two cognate subjects, and others incidentally alluded to. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote A: "Rules and Regulations of the Wimbledon Village Club, " p. 1. ]

[Footnote B: "Hints on the Formation of Local Museums, by the Treasurerof the Wimbledon Museum Committee, " p. 27. ]

[Footnote C: Works referred to, and extracted from, in the followingLectures:--Besides those mentioned in the Lectures, the following worksare alluded to, or quoted;--Beattie's Essays; Burnet's History of Music;Hogart's Musical History; Edwards's History of the Opera; TheHarmonicon; Schlegel's Life of Handel; Holmes' Life of Mozart;Moschele's Life of Beethoven. ]

A SKETCH OF HANDEL. 

A Lecture. 

Before I say of that great composer and extraordinary man whose life Ihave undertaken to sketch, it will not be out of place, I hope, to makea few remarks on the History and Utility of Music. 

I. --THE HISTORY. 

It has been well said by Latrobe, that--though the concise andcompressed character of the Mosaic history admits no data upon which tofound this supposition, yet we may readily conclude from the nature ofmusic, and the original perfection of the human powers, that the Gardenof Eden was no stranger to "singing and the voice of melody. "

We read in Scripture that before the Fall, the state of our firstparents was a state of unmingled happiness. Now, it is the very natureof joy to give utterance to its emotions. Happiness must have itsexpression. And thus it may well be supposed that man in his primalfelicity would seek to express, by every conceivable mode, the love, gratitude, and joy which absorbed every affection of his nature. 

Now, the most natural, as well as powerful, medium for conveying thosefeelings with which we are acquainted, is music. If then music be theexpression of joy, it cannot be supposed unknown to our first parents, whose exultation was as intense as it was hallowed. 

Milton says:--

 "Neither various style, Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise Their Maker in fit strains, pronounced or sung Unmeditated, such prompt eloquence Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous verse, More tuneable, than needed lute or harp To add more sweetness. "

But soon the voice of unalloyed thanksgiving was silenced. Sin broughtwith it sorrow; and, ever since, the Hallelujahs of the saints have beenstrangely intermingled with the moanings of self-reproach, and the criesof judicial sufferings. The heart, now become the seat of a tremendousconflict between sin and holiness, lost its elasticity, and needed someoutward excitement to call forth its song of praise. Hence the inventionof instrumental music, which is assigned by Scripture to Jubal. 

Longfellow says:--

 "When first in ancient time, from Jubal's tongue, The tuneful anthem filled the morning air, To sacred hymnings and Elysian song His music-breathing shell the minstrel woke-- Devotion breathed aloud from every chord, The voice of praise was heard in every tone, And prayer and thanks to Him the Eternal One, To Him, that, with bright inspiration touched The high and gifted lyre of everlasting song, And warmed the soul with new vitality. 

"To the element of air, " says Bishop Horne, "God has given the power ofproducing sounds; to the ear the capacity of receiving them; and to theaffections of the mind an aptness to be moved by them, when transmittedthrough the body. " The philosophy of the thing is too deep and wonderfulfor us; we cannot attain to it! But such is the fact; with that we areconcerned, and that is enough for us to know. 

II. --UTILITY. 

Of the Utility of Music there can be no question. 

Lycurgus, one of the wisest of all ancient legislators, gave greatencouragement to music. 

Polybius, one of the most ancient historians ascribes the humanity ofthe Arcadians to the influence of this art and the barbarity of theirneighbours the Cynethians to their neglect of it. 

Quintilian, the great rhetorician, is very copious in the praise ofmusic; and extols it as an incentive to valour, as an instrument ofmoral and intellectual discipline, as an auxiliary to science, as anobject of attention to the wisest men, and a source of comfort and anassistant in labour even to the very meanest. 

The heroes of ancient Greece were ambitious to excel in music. In armiesmusic has always been cultivated as a source of pleasure, a principle ofregular motion, and an incentive to valour and enthusiasm. 

And there is this in music, that it is suited to please all thevarieties of the human mind. The illiterate and the learned, thethoughtless and the giddy, the phlegmatic and the sanguine, all confessthemselves to be its votaries. It is a source of the purest mentalenjoyment, and may be obtained by all. It is suited to all classes, andnever ceases to please all. 

Many of you, I am sure, are familiar with what Shakespeare says:--

 "Nought is so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted. "

You recollect, too, what Lord Byron has so pathetically sung:--

 "My soul is dark--oh! quickly string The harp I yet can brook to hear, And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. 

 "If in this heart a hope be dear, That sound shall charm it forth again; If in these eyes there lurk a tear, 'T will flow, and cease to burn my brain. 

 "But bid the strain be wild and deep, Nor let thy notes of joy be first, I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep, Or else this heavy heart will burst. 

 "For it hath been by sorrow nursed, And ached in sleepless sorrow long; And now 't is doomed to know the worst, And break at once, or yield to song. "

All, however, do not agree with Byron and Shakespeare. Charles Lambsays:--

 "Some cry up Haydn, some Mozart, Just as the whim bites. --For my part, I do not care a farthing candle For either of them, or for Handel. Cannot a man live free and easy Without admiring Pergolesi? Or through the earth with comfort go, That never heard of Doctor Blow? I hardly have; And yet I eat, and drink, and shave, Like other people, if you watch it, And know no more of stave or crotchet Than did the primitive Peruvians, Or those old ante queer diluvians, That lived in the unwash'd earth with Jubal, Before that dirty blacksmith, Tubal, By stroke on anvil, or by summ'at, Found out, to his great surprise, the gamut. "

Witty essayist, your "Free Thoughts, " like many other of your cleverwritings, are erroneous. In all ages, and even by the least enlightenedof mankind, the efficacy of music has been acknowledged, and consideredas a genuine and natural source of delight. Now it awakens the latentcourage in the breast of the soldier, and now administers to the pensivesorrow of the weeping mother. At one moment it inspires the soul withsublime and hallowed awe, and at the next gives life to unbounded mirth. It is suited to stimulate the feeling of devotion, and to increase theboisterous pleasures of a village harvest-home. Wearied with theoppression of the noon-day sun, and exhausted with labour, thehusbandman sits beneath the shade of his native oak, and sings the songshe heard in infancy. The man of business, the man of letters, and thestatesman, wearied with the exertion of mind and burden of care, seekrelief round the family hearth, and forget awhile ambition and fearsunder the influence of music. And the dejected emigrant sings the songsof fatherland, whilst recollections, sad but sweet, arise and disappear. 

 "In far-distant climes, when the tear gushes o'er For home, love, and friendship, that charm us no more, Oh! what on the exiles' dark sorrows can shine Like the rapture that flows at the songs of Lang-syne!

 "The music of Britain is sweet 'midst the scene; But, ah! could you hear it, when seas roll between! 'Tis then, and then only, the soul can divine The music that dwells in the songs of Lang-syne. 

 "The spirit, when torn from earth's objects of love, Loses all its regrets in the chorus above: So in exile we cannot but cease to repine, When it hallows with ecstacy songs of Lang-syne. "

But I must allow music herself to prove her influence and assert hersway. 

 (CAPRICE HONGROIS. )

 "Cease gentle sounds, nor kill me quite With such excess of sweet delight. Each trembling note invades my heart, And thrills through every vital part: A soft--a pleasing pain Pursues my heated blood through every vein. What--what does the enchantment mean? Now, wild with fierce desire, My breast is all on fire! In softened raptures now I die! Can empty sound such joys impart? Can music thus transport the heart With melting ecstacy! Oh! art divine! exalted blessing, Each celestial charm expressing-- Kindest gift the heavens bestow, Sweetest food that mortals know! But give the charming magic o'er-- My beating heart can bear no more!"

George Frederick Handel was born at Halle, in Lower Saxony, on the 24thFebruary, 1684. His father (who was a surgeon, and was sixty-threeyears old when this child first saw the light) determined to make alawyer of him: but nature had resolved to make him a composer; and thestruggle between nature and the father commenced at the very cradle ofthe future author of the "Messiah. "

Scarcely had he begun to speak when he articulated musical sounds. Thedoctor was terribly alarmed, when he discovered instincts which in hiseyes were of so low an order. He understood nothing of art, nor of thenoble part which artists sustain in the world. He saw in them nothingbut a sort of mountebank, who amuse the world in its idle moments. Uneasy, and almost ashamed at the inclinations of his son, the father ofHandel opposed them by all possible means. He would not send him to anyof the public schools, because there not only grammar but the gamutwould be taught him--he would not permit him to be taken to any place, of whatever description, where he could hear music--he forbade him theslightest exercise of that nature and banished every kind of musicalinstrument far from the house. 

But he might as well have told the river that it was not to flow. Naturesurmounted every obstacle to her decree. The precautions taken to stiflethe instincts of the child served only to fortify by concentrating them. He found means to procure a spinet, and to conceal it in a garret, whither he went to play when all the household was asleep--without anyguidance finding out everything for himself, and merely by permittinghis little fingers to wander over the keyboard, he produced harmoniccombinations; and at _seven_ years of age he discovered that he knew howto play upon the spinet. 

The poor father soon discovered his mistake, and in the followingmanner. He had, by a former marriage, a son who was valet to the Duke ofSaxe Weisenfield. He wished to go and visit him; and George, who wasthen seven years old, and who was not acquainted with this brother, begged of his father to take him with him. When this was refused he didnot insist, but watched for the moment when the coach set off, andfollowed it on foot. The father saw him, stopped the coach and scoldedhim; when the child, as if he did not hear the scolding, recommenced hissupplications to be allowed to take part in the journey, and at last(thanks to that persistance which predicted the man of energy which heeventually proved to be) his request was granted. 

When they had arrived at the palace of the Duke, the boy stole off tothe organ in the chapel as soon as the service was concluded, and wasunable to resist the temptation of touching it. The Duke, notrecognizing the style of his organist, made inquiries; and when thetrembling little artist was brought before him he encouraged him, andsoon won his secret from him. 

The Duke then addressed himself to the father, and represented to himthat it was a sort of crime against humanity to stifle so much geniusin its birth. The old doctor was greatly astonished, and had not much toanswer. The opinion of a sovereign prince must have had, moreover, agreat influence over the mind of a man who considered musiciansmountebanks. He permitted himself to be convinced, and promised, notwithout some regret, to respect a vocation which manifested itself bysuch unmistakeable signs. Handel was present, his eyes fastened upon hispowerful protector, without losing a word of the argument. Never did heforget it, and for ever afterwards he regarded the Duke ofSaxe-Weisenfeld as his benefactor, for having given such good advice tohis father. On his return home his wishes were gratified, and he waspermitted to take lessons from Sackau, the organist of the cathedral atHalle. 

Sackau was an organist of the old school, learned and fond of his art. He was not long in discovering what a pupil Fortune had sent him. Hebegan by carefully instructing him in general principles, and then laidbefore him a vast collection of German and Italian music which hepossessed, and which they analyzed together. Sackau was every day moreand more astonished at his marvellous progress; and, as he loved winenearly as well as music, he often sent him to take his place at theorgan on Sundays, whenever he had a good _dejeuner_ to take part in. Atlength, although he found him of great use, this worthy man confessed, with excellent and admirable pride, that his pupil knew more thanhimself, and advised that he should be sent to Berlin, where he mightstrengthen himself by studying other models. 

Handel was eleven years of age when he went to Berlin. There he passedfor a prodigy. The Elector, wishing to become the patron of so rare agenius, manifested a disposition to attach him to himself, and to sendhim to Italy to complete his musical education. But when the father wasconsulted, he did not think it wise to enchain the future of his son tothe Court of Berlin, and he excused himself, saying that he was now anold man, and that he wished to keep near him the only son who remainedto him; and, as in those days it was not prudent to oppose a prince onhis own land, Handel was brought back somewhat hastily to his nativetown. 

Handel's father died shortly after the return of his son from Berlin, in1697, leaving him poor; and it became necessary to provide for his_existence_ as well as his _renown_. Halle was too small to contain him. He wished to visit Italy, but not having the means of such a journey, hewent to Hamburg in the month of July, 1703. 

Soon after his arrival in Hamburg, the place of the organist of Lubeckwas offered for competition, upon the _retirement_ of the old incumbent. Handel canvassed for the vacancy; but finding a rather singularcondition attached to the programme, which was _that the successor wasto marry the daughter of the retiring organist_, as this was not quiteagreeable to him, he returned to Hamburg as happy as he went. Thisadventure, at the very outset of his career, appears all the moreoriginal, when we remember that Handel never manifested any taste formatrimony. 

I shall not occupy your time by describing Handel's peregrinationsthrough Italy--whereever he went his fame preceded him. In 1709 he leftItaly, with an intent to settle in Germany. He came to Hanover. TheElector George of Brunswick, afterwards George I. Of England, wasdelighted to receive such a man in his principality, and offered toretain him as his chapel master, at a salary of 1800 ducats, about £300a year. 

Handel was not very desirous of occupying this post. For at the Court ofthe elector he had already met some British noblemen who had pressed himto visit England; and being persuaded by them to undertake that journey, he did not wish to engage himself, except upon the condition of beingallowed to accomplish it. The condition was accepted and he set out atthe end of the year. Passing through Dusseldorf he could scarcely tearhimself away; for the Elector Palatine wished to keep him at any price. Thence he went to Halle to embrace his mother, who was now blind; andhis good old master, Sackau. Afterwards he visited Holland and arrivedin London at the close of 1710. 

Handel's first work in England was the Opera of Rinaldo, and this atonce established his reputation. 

The Cavatina in the first act, "Cairo Sposa, " was to be found, in 1711, upon all the harpsichords of Great Britain, as a model of patheticgrace. The march was adopted by the regiment of Life Guards, who playedit every day for forty years. Like the regiments themselves, marcheshave their days and their strokes of fortune; and this one, after a longand honourable existence, was subsequently pressed into the service ofthe highway robbers. Twenty years later Pepusch made out of it theRobber's chorus in the Beggar's Opera, "Let us take road. " Thebrilliant morceau in the second act, "Il tri Cerbero, " was also set toEnglish words--"Let the waiter bring clean glasses, " and was a long timethe most popular song at all merry-makings. But what shall be said of"Lascia che io pianza?" Stradella's divine air of "I miei sospiri, " hasnothing more moving, or more profoundly tender. 

It has been asserted that in music the _beau ideal_ changes every thirtyyears, but that is an ill-natured criticism. Certain forms ofaccompaniment may grow out of fashion like the cut of a coat. But a finemelody remains eternally beautiful and always agreeable to listen to. The 100th Psalm of the middle ages is as magnificent to-day as it waswhen nearly four centuries ago it came from the brain of its composer, Franc. [D] "Laschia che io pianza" and "I miei sospiri" will be admirableand admired to the very end of the world. 

Handel's publisher was said to have gained £1, 500 from the publicationof Rinaldo, which drew from Handel this complaint, "My Dear Sir, as itis only right that we should be upon an equal footing, _you_ shall_compose_ the next opera, and I will sell it. " Publishers then, as now, not only lived by the brains of others, but had the lion's share of theprofits. 

Handel's success as an harpsichordist was equal to that which he enjoyedas a composer. He very often played solos in the theatre, and at thehouse of Thomas Britton. 

Britton, the small coal merchant of Clerkenwell Green, deserves apassing remark. 

Thomas Britton belonged to that class of men whom persons of limitedviews are accustomed to term _the lower orders_ of society, for hegained his daily bread by crying small coal, which he carried about thestreets in a sack upon his shoulders. He lived near Clerkenwell Green, aquarter of the town with which fashionable people were scarcelyacquainted before he made it illustrious. 

How it came to pass that he learnt to play upon the _viola de gamba_ isnot known, but he played upon it, and he was so much of an artist, thathe grouped around him a number of amateurs who were happy to performconcerted music under his direction. 

Britton was the tenant of a stable which he divided horizontally by afloor--on the ground floor was his coal shop. The upper story formed along and narrow room, and it was in this chamber that the first meetingsin the nature of private concerts took place in England, andinstrumental music was first played regularly. Here it was that from1678 to 1714 (the period of his death), the itinerant small coalmerchant weekly entertained the intelligent world of London at hismusical soirées, always gratuitously. Among others, the Duchess ofQueensbury, one of the most celebrated beauties of the Court, was veryregular in her attendance. 

Pepusch and Handel played the harpsichord and the organ there. 

Hawkins mentions, as a proof of the great consideration which Brittonacquired, that he was called "_Sir_;" and many persons, unable tobelieve that a man of that class and of such a business could arrive bynatural means to be called "Sir, " took him for a magician, an atheist, and a Jesuit. 

In 1715, Handel had produced at the theatre in the Haymarket, a newopera _Amadiji_. The _poem_ of Amadiji is signed, in right of hisauthorship, by the new manager of the theatre James Heidegger, commonlycalled the "_Swiss Count_. " He was said to be the ugliest man of histime; Lord Chesterfield wagered that it was impossible to discover ahuman being so disgraced by nature. After having searched through thetown, a hideous old woman was found, and it was agreed that Heideggerwas handsomer. But as Heidegger was pluming himself upon his victory, Chesterfield required that he should put on the old woman's bonnet. Thus attired the Swiss Count appeared horribly ugly, and Chesterfieldwas unanimously declared the winner, amid thunders of applause. 

Heidegger, who made so light of a joke at his own expense, dedicated thelibretto of Amadis to the Earl of Burlington, at whose house, inPiccadilly, the music had been composed by Handel. When the King askedthe Earl why he went so far to live, he replied that he was fond ofsolitude, and that he was certain that he had found a place where no onecould come and build beside him. It is one hundred and forty seven yearssince he said this. Piccadilly, where the house of this solitary lord isto be found, is now, I need scarcely tell you, one of the most centraland fashionable parts of London. 

In 1717, Handel paid a flying visit to his native town. When he returnedto London, in 1718, he found the Italian theatre closed, being unable tosupport itself; but the chapel of the Duke of Chandos was in aflourishing condition. The Duke of Chandos, formerly Paymaster-Generalof Queen Anne's army, had built near the village of Edgeware a mansioncalled Cannons. 

In "A journey through England, " by Miss Spence, this mansion is thusdescribed:--

"The palace of the Duke of Chandos was erected in the eighteenthcentury. This magnificent structure with its decorations and furniturecost £230, 000. The pillars of the great hall were of marble, as were thesteps of the principal staircase, each step consisting of one piecetwenty-two feet long. The establishment of the household was notinferior to the splendour of the habitation. Notwithstanding the threesuccessive shocks which his fortune received by his concern in theAfrican Company and the Mississippi and South Sea speculations in1718-19-20, the Duke lived in splendour at Cannons till his death in1744, rather as the presumptive heir to a diadem than as one of HerMajesty's subjects. So extraordinary indeed, was his style of living, that he was designated '_The Grand Duke_. '"

Among other objects of luxury this duke had a chapel furnished like thechurches of Italy. It was situate a short distance from the mansion, andwe are told that he went there with true Christian humility, "attendedby his Swiss Guards, " ranged as the Yeoman of the Guard. Every Sundaythe road from London to Edgeware was thronged with carriages of themembers of the nobility and gentry, who went to pray to God with hisgrace. Dr. Pepusch, one of the greatest musical celebrities of the time, was the first chapel master; but the Duke of Chandos, who loved ever toworship the Lord with the best of everything, made proposals to theillustrious Handel, and persuaded him to take the place of Pepusch. TheMusical Biography tells us that "Dr. Pepusch fully acquiesced in theopinion of Handel's superior merit, and retired from his eminent andhonourable situation without any expression whatever either of chagrinor disappointment. "

The wise labour for their own sakes, for their own satisfaction, and inthe midst of general indifference; but artists only work when they areexcited by public attention. The most fruitful have need of externalanimation to become productive, and require immediate applause. Handel, having an orchestra and singers at his disposal, with the guests of awealthy nobleman for audience, set himself passionately to work. It wasat Cannons that he wrote the two Te Deums and the twelve famous Anthems, called the Chandos Anthems. 

Of the splendid residence wherein the Duke of Chandos gave thesemagnificent "feasts of reason and flow of soul, " nothing is now left butthe chapel, which, as I said before, was constructed apart from themansion. It is now the parish church of Edgeware. The most interestingrelic is an organ, of moderate size, which stands behind the altar. Upon this may be found a little brass plate, bearing this inscription:--

 -------------------------------------- | | | HANDEL | | WAS ORGANIST OF THIS CHURCH | | FROM THE YEAR 1718 TO 1721, | | AND COMPOSED | | THE ORATORIO OF ESTHER | | ON THIS ORGAN | --------------------------------------

The mansion was sold in 1750, three years after the Duke's death, foreleven thousand pounds. (It had cost, you recollect, two hundred andthirty thousand pounds. ) Not a vestige of it is left; and, as the siteis now in a state of cultivation, Pope's prediction is realized:

 "Another age shall see the golden ear Imbrown the slope and nod on the parterre. Deep harvests bury all his pride has planned, And laughing Ceres reassume the land. "

 _Essay_--"_Of the Use of Riches_. "

The magnificent Duke himself is now almost forgotten. A marble statue, which was erected to his memory in the crypt of the chapel, is now inthe last state of dilapidation. The wind whistles through the brokenwindows of its funereal abode; and the plaster of the roof, detachedfrom its skeleton of laths, powders his enormous wig, and soils theimperial robe that drapes his shoulders. But the spirit of the master ofCannons may console itself; for in the verses of the poets are monumentsof infinitely greater durability than marble. And has not Pope sung:--

 "True, some are open, and to all men known; Others so very close, they're hid from none. (So darkness strikes the sense no less than light;) Thus gracious Chandos is beloved at sight. "

 _Essay_--"_Of the Characters of Man_. "

On either side of the statue stand two long figures, clothed, like it, in Roman costume. These are the first two wives of the Duke. But hemarried a third wife, who has not, however, been permitted to enter thesanctuary. 

The story of this third marriage is worth telling you. 

One day the Duke being on a journey, he saw, at the door of an inn atwhich the horses were changed, a groom beating a young servant girl witha horse-whip. Taking pity on the poor girl, the Duke went to interposebetween them, when he was informed that the groom and the girl weremarried. This being the case, nothing could be said; for the law ofEngland at that time permitted husbands to beat their wives to anyexcess short of death. The groom, who had noticed the movement of theDuke, came up and offered to sell him his wife, if he would buy her; andin order to save her from further punishment he did so. But when thebargain was concluded, the Duke did not know what to do with his newacquisition, and so he sent her to school. Soon after this the Duchessof Chandos died, and the Duke took it into his head that he would marryhis purchase--so that eventually the poor servant girl, whom a groomhad beaten by the road side before every passer by, became Duchess ofChandos, and comported herself in her new rank with perfect dignity. 

 * * * * *

But to return to Handel and to Cannons. One day, as he was going there, he was overtaken by a shower in the midst of the village of Edgeware, and took shelter in the house of one Powell, who was a blacksmith aswell as parish clerk of Whitchurch. After the usual salutations, Powellfell to work again at his forge, singing an old song the while. By anextraordinary phenomenon, the hammer, striking in time, drew from theanvil two harmonic sounds, which, being in accord with the melody, madea sort of continuous bass. Handel was struck by the incident, listened, remembered the air and its strange accompaniment, and, when he returnedhome, composed out of it a piece for the harpsichord. This is the piecewhich has been published separately a thousand times under the title of_The Harmonious Blacksmith_. After an existence of upwards of a hundredand forty years, this piece is continually being reprinted, and it willbe reprinted so long as the human race is sensible to music. Judge foryourselves, as it shall now be kindly played for you. 

 HARMONIOUS BLACKSMITH. 

 * * * * *

In the "London Daily Post" of the 19th August, 1738, there is thefollowing paragraph:

"The entertainment at Vauxhall Gardens concluded with the CoronationAnthems of Mr. Handel, to the great pleasure of the company, and amidsta great concourse of people. "

The Coronation Anthems here alluded to are those composed for thecoronation of George II. He was too fond of music to be satisfied at hiscoronation with that of the court composer, whom an old law compelledhim to have attached to the household, so he requested Handel to givehis assistance, who wrote the four anthems which are called theCoronation Anthems. These were performed at Westminster, during theceremony of the 11th October, 1727, after having been solemnly rehearsedin the cathedral on the 6th, in the presence of a numerous assemblage. This work forms one of the most solid foundations of its author's glory. "Zadok the Priest" especially is an inspiration of prodigiousgrandeur--the chorus, "God Save the King" (not the National Anthem), iscomparable in beauty to the "Hallelujah" chorus, in the "Messiah. "

Most of you are familiar with these anthems; they are always performedat the Annual Meeting of Charity Children in St. Paul's;[E] and who evertires of listening to them? Grand music has this advantage over all theother productions of the artistic faculties of man, that people arenever tired of it. It is like daily bread, an aliment always new, alwayswished for. The oftener you hear a fine piece of music, the greaterpleasure you take in hearing it again. It charms you in proportion asyou have familiarized yourself with it, therefore it is not to be fearedthat people will be tired of listening to the Coronation Anthems ofHandel to the end of time. 

I have given you a quotation from the principal daily paper of theperiod we are now speaking of; allow me to give you another. In the"Daily Post" of the 18th April, 1738, there is the followingannouncement:--

"We are informed, from very good authority, that there is now nearlyfinished a statue of the justly celebrated Mr. Handel, exquisitely done, by the ingenious Mr. Roubilliac, of St. Martin's Lane Statuary, out ofone entire block of white marble, which is to be placed in a grand_nich_, erected on purpose, in the great grove of Vauxhall Gardens (Thegreat grove at Vauxhall Gardens!--Sic transit gloria mundi), at the soleexpense of Mr. Tyers, undertaker of the entertainment there, who, inconsideration of the real merit of that inimitable master, thought itproper that his effigy should preside there, where his harmony has sooften charmed even the greatest crowds into the profoundest calm andmost decent behaviour. "

And in the following copy, that of the 2nd May, 1738, there is thefollowing:--

"Last night Vauxhall was opened, and there was a considerable appearanceof both sexes. The several pieces of music played on that occasion hadnever been heard before in the gardens: the company expressed thegreatest satisfaction at the marble statue of Mr. Handel. "

Some of you may have seen this marble statue in the great grove atVauxhall Gardens. I never have; but we may all see the self-same statueany day, in the great room at Exeter Hall. 

Apropos of a statue--England has shown great gratitude toHandel--Handel, a _foreigner_--has she shown anything like equalgratitude to as great, if not a greater genius, and that genius _her ownson_?

Who ever loved England more dearly than Shakespeare? His was not merelythe love of a son for his mother, but it was as tender as that of amother for her son. His works are full of delicious passages, in whichhis patriotism becomes manifest. No corner of the globe has been sung bynative poets as England has by Shakespeare. Many of you, I dare say, arefamiliar with that beautiful passage in "Richard II. " He is describingEngland, and he says--

 "This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress, built by Nature for herself, Against infection and the hand of War; This happy breed of men--this little earth; This precious stone set in the silver sea. "

Yes, Shakespeare so loved his country, that he divined by intuition theheart-anguish of those who have lost theirs. Romeo, when Friar Laurencetells him that he is banished from Verona, cries:--

 "Ha! banishment? Be merciful; say _death_! For exile hath more terror in his look; Much more than death: do not say 'banishment. '

 _Friar. _--Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. 

 _Romeo. _--There is no world outside Verona's walls! Hast thou no poison mixed To kill me? but 'banished!' 'banished!' O Friar! the damned use that word in hell!"

He who spoke thus was Shakespeare, and yet _his_ compatriots could notfind the means of erecting a statue to him! Even at the present day inLondon, where you may find in every square a herd of dukes, to whom noteven bronze can give celebrity, Shakespeare is nowhere to be found. Hisimage remains shut up in Westminster Abbey, instead of being set upon acolumn whose height should dominate over the metropolis, as his geniusdominates over the world. [F]

I must necessarily pass over much that is interesting in the life ofHandel: recollect I have undertaken to give you only a "sketch, " not ahistory. My sketch, however, would be incomplete did I overlook hisgreatest production, or his visit to "that generous and polite nation, "as he was pleased to call Ireland, for which nation his masterpiece wascomposed, and in which it was first performed. 

For a long time Handel had been wished for in Ireland. The Duke ofDevonshire, the Lord Lieutenant of the country at that period, haddirectly invited him to pay a visit to the island, and the Irishprofessed great admiration for him. 

Almost all the musical societies of Dublin, which were composed ofamateurs, gave their entertainments for the furtherance of charitableobjects. Handel put himself into communication with the most importantof these, that "for the benefit and enlargement (freedom) of poordistressed prisoners for debt, " and promised to give an oratorio for itsbenefit. For this society he composed the "Messiah, " the masterpiece ofthis great master. Whoever has listened to his music will admit that itsmost distinctive character is the sublime. No one, without exception, neither Beethoven nor Mozart, has ever risen nearer to the grandeur ofthe ideal than Handel did, and he was never more sublime than in the"Messiah;" and, remembering this, read the dates which are inscribedwith his own hand upon the manuscript:--

"Commenced 22nd August, 1741. 

"End of 1st part, 28th August. 

"End of 2nd, 6th September. 

"End of 3rd, 12th September, 1741. 

"Filled up on the 14th. "

This Herculean work was therefore accomplished in twenty-three days; andHandel was then fifty-six years old!

It is a strange phenomenon: when men of genius are to die YOUNG, theycomplete their masterpieces at _once_. Mozart rendered up his soul atthirty-nine; Raphael painted "The School of Athens" at twenty-five, and"The Transfiguration" at thirty-seven; Paul Potter his "Bull" attwenty-two; Rossini composed "The Barber of Sevile" when he wastwenty-three, "William Tell" at thirty-seven, and afterwards wrote nomore. If these men had lived longer, it would have been impossible forthem to surpass themselves. 

Great artists, on the other hand, who are destined to have _long lives_are _slow in production_, or rather they produce their best things inthe _decline of life_. Handel, _e. G. _, composed his greatest works, "TheFuneral Anthem, " "Israel, " "The Messiah, " "Samson, " "The Dettingen TeDeum, " and "Judas Macabbeus, " _after he was fifty-two_ years old. Gluckhad not composed one of his operas when he was fifty. Haydn was an oldman of sixty-five when he produced the "Creation. " Murillo becameMurillo only at forty years of age. Poussin was seventy when he painted"The Deluge, " which is the most poetically great of all his noblepictures. Michael Angelo counted more than sixty years when he encrustedhis incomparable fresco, "The Last Judgment, " upon the walls of theSistine Chapel; and he was eighty-seven when he raised the cupola of St. Peter's to the heavens. And our own Milton was sixty-three when hewrote "Paradise Lost!"

But, to return--Handel set out on his journey and charitable mission, 4th August, 1741. It is to this journey Pope alludes in his "Dunciad:"--

 "But soon, ah! soon, rebellion will commence, If music meanly borrows aid from sense; Strong in new arms, lo! giant Handel stands, Like bold Briareus, with his hundred hands, To stir, to rouse, to shake the soul he comes, And Jove's own thunders follow Mars' drums. "

He was stayed by contrary winds in the ancient and picturesque city ofChester. Dr. Burney says, "I was at the public school in Chester, andvery well remember seeing him smoke a pipe over a dish of coffee at theExchange coffee house; and, being extremely curious to see soextraordinary a man, I watched him narrowly as long as he remained inChester, where he stayed on account of the wind being unfavourable forhis embarking at Park Gate. "

Wishing to employ this delay in trying over some pieces of his neworatorio--the Messiah, he sought for some one who could read music atsight, and a house painter named Janson was indicated to him as one ofthe best musicians attached to the Cathedral. A meeting took place, butpoor Janson managed so badly, that the irascible composer became purplewith anger, and after swearing, as was his wont, in four or fivelanguages at a time, cried out, "You Schountrel! tit you not tell me datyou could sing at soite?" "Yes sir, " replied the good fellow, "but notat _first sight_. " Handel upon this burst out laughing, and therehearsal proceeded no further. 

He arrived in Dublin on the 18th November, 1741. It was not till Aprilfollowing, however, that the Messiah was for the first time heard. Inthe Dublin papers of March 1742, the following advertisement appeared:--

"For the relief of the prisoners in the several gaols, and for thesupport of Mercer's Hospital; on Monday, the 12th April, will beperformed at the Music Hall, in Fishamble-street, Mr. Handel's new grandOratorio called the _Messiah_. "

The performance having taken place, the newspapers vied with each otherin commendation and praise. I give you an extract from one:--

"On Tuesday last, (the day I suppose was changed), Mr. Handel's sacredgrand Oratorio, the Messiah, was performed in the New Music Hall, inFishamble-street. The best judges allowed it to be the most finishedpiece of music. Words are wanted to express the delight it afforded tothe admiring crowded audience. The sublime, the grand and the tender, adapted to the most elevated, majestic, and moving words, conspired totransport and charm the ravished heart and ear. It is but justice to Mr. Handel, that the world should know, he generously gave the money arisingfrom this grand performance to be equally shared by the society forrelieving prisoners, the Charitable Infirmary, and Mercer's Hospital, for which they will ever gratefully remember his name. 

This is high encomium, but the audience paid him higher still. When thechorus all struck up, "For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth, " in theHallelujah, they were so transported that they all together started upand remained standing till the chorus ended. "

A few days after the performance of the Messiah, Handel waited on LordKinnoul, with whom he was particularly acquainted. His Lordship, as wasnatural, paid him some compliments on the noble _entertainment_ which hehad lately given in the town. "My Lord, said Handel, I should be sorryif I _only entertained them_, I wish TO MAKE THEM BETTER. "

The Messiah has remained the most popular of Oratorios. It is neverannounced in anything like a fitting manner without attracting thepublic. It invariably forms part of the programme at all the festivals, and the day on which it is performed is always the most productive. TheSacred Harmonic Societies particularly give it every year for thebenefit of distressed musicians. Truly does it deserve the touchingeulogy that "it has fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and fostered theorphans. "

But I must hasten to a conclusion. Before I conclude this sketch ofHandel, I must introduce you to one more of his Oratorios, "L'Allegro. "

This magnificent composition has been eulogized by an eminent poet, --abeautiful pigeon! and an old parson! I will briefly tell you the eulogyof each, for brief is the eulogy itself. 

The Poet having heard the oratorio performed, wrote thus:--

 "If e'er Arion's music calm'd the floods And Orpheus ever drew the dancing woods! Why do not British trees and forest throng To hear the sweeter notes of Handel's song? This does the falsehood of the fable prove-- Or seas and woods when Handel harps would move. "

THE PIGEON. --"Let me wander not unseen, " is considered one of Handel'sfinest inspirations. Hawkins says, "Of the air, the late Mr. JohnLockman relates the following story, assuring his reader, that himselfwas an eye-witness to it, " viz:--

"When at the house of Mr. Lee, a gentleman in Cheshire, whose daughterwas a very fine performer on the harpsichord, he saw a pigeon which, whenever the young lady played this song, and _this only_, would flyfrom an adjacent dove-house to the window in the parlour where she sat, and listen to it with the most pleasing emotions, and the instant thesong was over would fly away to her dove-house. "[G]

THE PARSON, old Dr. Delaney, F. T. C. D. Once heard at the opera a lady[H]sing this song. He was so captivated and excited that he could notcontrol himself, but standing up in front of his box exclaimed, "Oh! woman, for this be all thy sins forgiven!"

Now I do not know whether there is a poet present, or a pigeon, butthere is an old parson; and although I shall not give my lady friendabsolution for the song, still I am sure she will merit approbation, andreceive applause. 

 "LET ME WANDER NOT UNSEEN. "

 _Words by Milton. Music by Handel. _

 * * * * *

On the 21st January, 1751, Handel commenced "Jephtha, " the last of hisworks. It was not finished till the 30th August following. It is theonly work he ever took so long to complete. This can be easily accountedfor. During its progress his eyesight became impaired; by the last pagesof the MS. It appears only too plainly that his vision was no longerclear when he traced them: yet sick as he was, the intrepid old manarose once more when charity had need of him. He gave two performancesof the "Messiah" for the Foundling Hospital, one on the 18th April, theother on the 16th May, 1751. The sum for the tickets delivered for the18th April came to six hundred pounds; that for May, nine hundred andtwenty-five guineas. The "London Magazine" of that month says there wereeight hundred coaches and chairs. Handel presented this hospital withthe copyright of the "Messiah. " The performances alone during Handel'slife time enriched the hospital with thousands of pounds. 

Handel submitted three times to a painful operation, the last time in1752, but without effect. Blind he became, and was to remain as hismother had been in her old days. 

Handel blind--Beethoven deaf!--Sad similitude!

This cruel misfortune afflicted him at first profoundly; but when he wascompelled to recognise that the evil was without a remedy, his manlysoul got the upper hand, he resigned himself to his fate, and resolvedto continue his oratorio performances. 

"Samson, " one of his favourite oratorios, was in the programme of theseason. In spite of all his moral energy, the author could not listenuntroubled to the pathetic air of the sightless Hercules of the Hebrews, in which he gave utterance to his immense grief. "Total eclipse. Nosun--no moon!" Then it was that they saw the grand old man, who wasseated at the organ, grow pale and tremble; and when they led himforward to the audience, which was applauding, many persons present wereso forcibly affected that they were moved even to tears. 

And we may still be sharers in that emotion, as when we recall thecircumstances of that scene, and remember that the verses were composedby Milton, who, you recollect, was himself blind. 

 "Total eclipse! No sun!--no moon! All dark amidst the blaze of noon! Oh! glorious light! No cheering ray To glad my eyes with welcome day. Why thus deprived thy prime decree? Sun, moon, and stars are dark to me. "

On the 6th April, 1759, the "Messiah" was performed for the last timeunder the direction of the author. 

After returning home from this performance, he went to bed, never torise again. Seized with a mortal exhaustion, and feeling that his lasthour was come, in the full plenitude of his reason, he gently renderedup his soul to die, _on the Anniversary of the first performance of the"Messiah_, " Good Friday, 13th April, 1759, aged seventy-four years. 

He was buried with all honour and respect in Westminster Abbey, thePantheon of Great Britain. His remains were placed in what is called"the Poet's Corner, " wherein lie buried Shakspere, Milton, Dryden, Thompson, Sheridan, Gray. And he is in his place there; for who was evermore of a poet than Handel?--who deserved better than he to enter thePantheon. They might have written upon his tomb the words which Antonyspoke when he beheld the body of Cæsar, "_This_ was a man. "

Yes: this was a man who had done honour to music as much by the nobilityof his character as by the sublimity of his genius. He was one of thetoo few artists who uphold the dignity of art to the highest possiblestandard. He was the incarnation of honesty. The unswerving rigidity ofhis conduct captivates even those who do not take him for a model. Heworked ceaselessly for the improvement of others without ever feelingweary. He was virtuous and pure, proud and intrepid. His love of goodwas as unconquerable as his will. He died at his post, working to thelast hour of his life. He has left behind him a luminous track and anoble example. 

A Handel, like a Homer or a Milton, a Shakspere or a Dante, is only oncegiven to a nation. No man need ever expect to rival the genius ofHandel, or approach his powers of expression; but all may emulate hislove for his fellow-man--his sympathy for the distressed--his desire topromote the glory of his God. For these noble qualities I commendHandel to your consideration; and for these I hold him forth thisevening as a man worthy of our imitation. 

 "Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time. 

 "Footprints which perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. 

 "Then let us be up and doing, With a heart for any fate-- Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait. "

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote D: See Note, p. 91. ]

[Footnote E: See Note, p. 92. ]

[Footnote F: See Note, p. 92. ]

[Footnote G: See note, p. 93. ]

[Footnote H: The lady was Mrs. Cibber. ]

A SKETCH OF BEETHOVEN. 

A Lecture. 

 (OVERTURE. )

 "Give me sweet music when I'm glad-- Give me sweet music when I'm sad; For music softens every woe, And brightens every rapture's flow. 

 "Oh! give me music! In my years Of childhood's hopes and childhood's fears, One sweetly-breathing vocal lay Could steal my griefs, my fears away. 

 "Yes, music, come! Thou dying voice Of distant days--of far-past joys-- Come, softly breathe into mine ear, And thine shall be the flowing tear!

 "Come in the strain I loved so well, And of the lip that breathed it tell. Oh! be the lingerings of thy lays The voice of those departed days!"

Association not only gives significancy to music, but contributesgreatly to heighten its agreeable effect. We have heard it performed, some time or other, in an agreeable place, perhaps, or by an agreeableperson, or accompanied with words that describe agreeable ideas; or wehave heard it in our early years--a period of life which we seldom lookback upon without pleasure, and of which Bacon recommends the frequentrecollection, as an expedient to preserve health. Nor is it necessarythat musical compositions should have much intrinsic merit, or that theyshould call up any distinct remembrance of the agreeable ideasassociated with them. There are seasons at which we are gratified withvery moderate excellence. In childhood every tune is delightful to amusical ear: in our advanced years, an indifferent tune will please, when set off by the amiable qualities of the performer, or by any otheragreeable circumstance. The flute of a shepherd, heard at a distance, ona fine summer day, amidst beautiful scenery, will give rapture to thewanderer, though the tune, the instrument, and the musician be such ashe could not endure in any other place. If a song, or piece of music, should call up only a faint remembrance that we were happy the last timewe heard it, nothing more would be needful to make us listen to it againwith peculiar satisfaction. 

Well has Cowper said--

 "There is in souls a sympathy with sounds; And as the mind is pitch'd, the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave, Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touched within us, and the heart replies. How soft the music of those village bells, Falling at intervals upon the ear In cadence sweet, now dying all away, Now pealing loud again, and louder still, Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on! With easy force it opens all the cells Where mem'ry slept. Wherever I have heard A kindred melody, the scene recurs, And with it all its pleasures and its pains. "

Of its influence very many anecdotes, I should rather say, _facts_ arerecorded. 

Naturalists assert that animals and birds are sensible to the charms ofmusic--take one or two instances:--

An officer was confined in the Bastile; he begged the governor to permithim the use of his lute, to soften by the harmonies of his instrument, the rigours of his prison. At the end of a few days, this modernOrpheus, playing on his lute, was greatly astonished to see frisking outof their holes, great numbers of _mice_, and descending from their wovenhabitations crowds of _spiders_, who formed a circle about him, while hecontinued breathing his soul-subduing instrument. He was petrified withastonishment. Having ceased to play, the assembly who did not come tosee him, but to hear his instrument, immediately broke up. As he had agreat dislike to spiders, it was two days before he ventured again totouch his instrument. At length, having overcome, for the novelty of hiscompany, his dislike of them, he recommenced his concert, when theassembly was by far more numerous than at first; and in the course offurther time, he found himself surrounded by a hundred _musicalamateurs_. Having thus succeeded in attracting this company, hetreacherously contrived to get rid of them at his will. For this purposehe begged the keeper to give him a cat, which he put in a cage, and letloose at the very instant when the little hairy people were mostenchanted by the Orphean skill he displayed. 

Haydyn tells the following story:--

I went, with some other young people equally devoid of care, one dayduring the extreme heat of summer, to seek for coolness and fresh air onone of the lofty mountains, which surround the Lago Maggiore inLombardy. Having reached by daybreak the middle of the ascent, westopped to contemplate the Borromean isles, which were displayed underour feet, in the middle of the lake, when we were surrounded by a largeflock of sheep, which were leaving the fold to go to their pasture. 

One of our party, who was no bad performer on the flute, and who alwayscarried his instrument along with him, took it out of his pocket. "I amgoing, " said he, "to turn Corydon; let us see whether Virgil's sheepwill recognize their pastor. " He began to play. The sheep and goats, which were following one another towards the mountain, with their headshanging down, raised them at the first sound of the flute, and all witha general and hasty movement turned to the side from whence theagreeable noise proceeded. Gradually they flocked round the musician, and listened with motionless attention. He ceased playing; still thesheep did not stir. The shepherd with his staff, obliged those nearestto him to move on; they obeyed; but no sooner did the fluter begin toplay, than his innocent audience again returned to him. The shepherd, out of patience, pelted them with clods of earth; but not one wouldmove. The fluter played with additional skill. The shepherd fell into apassion, whistled, scolded, and pelted the poor fleecy amateurs withstones. Such as were hit by them began to march; but the others stillrefused to stir. 

Marville gives us the following curious account:--

Doubting the truth of those who say that the love of music is a naturaltaste, especially the sound of instruments, and that beasts themselvesare touched by it; being one day in the country, I tried an experiment. 

While a man was playing on the trump marine, I made my observations on a_cat_, a _dog_, a _horse_, an _ass_, a _hind_, _cows_, _small birds_, and a _cock and hens_, who were in a yard, under a window on which I wasleaning. 

I did not perceive that the _cat_ was the least affected, and I evenjudged by her air that she would have given all the instruments in theworld for a mouse, sleeping in the sun all the time. 

The _horse_ stopped short from time to time before the window, raisinghis head up now and then, as he was feeding on the grass. 

The _dog_ continued for above an hour seated on his hind legs, lookingsteadfastly at the player. 

The _ass_ did not discover the least indication of his being touched, eating his thistles peaceably. 

The _hind_ lifted up her large, wide ears, and seemed very attentive. 

The _cows_ slept a little, and after gazing, as though they had beenacquainted with us, went forward. 

Some _little birds_, who were in an aviary, and others on the trees andbushes, almost tore their little throats with singing. 

But the _cock_, who minded only his hens, and the hens, who were solelyemployed in scratching a neighbouring dunghill, did not show in anymanner that they took the least pleasure in hearing the trump marine. 

One of the best descriptions of the influence of music I consider to beWordsworth's lines on the Blind Fiddler of Oxford Street. Many of you, doubtless, are familiar with them; but for the information of those whomay not, I shall quote them. 

 "An Orpheus! an Orpheus! Yes, faith may grow bold, And take to herself all the wonders of old. Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name. 

 "His station is there, and he works on the crowd: He sways them with harmony merry and loud: He fills with his power all their hearts to the brim. Was aught ever heard like his fiddle and him?

 "What an eager assembly! what an empire is this! The weary have life, and the hungry have bliss; The mourner is cheered, and the anxious have rest; And the guilt-burthened soul is no longer opprest. 

 "As the moon brightens round her the clouds of the night, So he, where he stands, is a centre of light; It gleams on the face there of dusk-browed Jack And the pale-visaged bakers, with basket on back. 

 "That errand-bound 'prentice was passing in haste-- What matter! he's caught--and his time runs to waste; The newsman is stopped, though he stops on the fret; And the half-breathless lamplighter he's in the net!

 "The porter sits down on the weight which he bore; The lass with her barrow wheels hither her store. If a thief could be here, he might pilfer at ease: She sees the musician--'tis all that she sees!

 "That tall man, a giant in bulk and in height, Not an inch of his body is free from delight. Can he keep himself still, if he would? Oh not he! The music stirs in him, like wind through a tree. 

 "Mark that cripple, who leans on his crutch, like a tower That long has leaned forward, leans hour after hour! That mother, whose spirit in fetters is bound, While she dandles the babe in her arms to the sound. 

 "Now coaches and chariots roar on like a stream; Here are twenty souls happy as souls in a dream; They are deaf to your murmurs--they care not for you, Nor what ye plying, nor what ye pursue!

 "He stands, backed by the wall--he abates not his din; His hat gives him vigour, with boons dropping in From the old and the young--from the poorest; and there-- The one-pennied boy has his penny to spare!

 "Oh! blest are the hearers! and proud be the hand Of the pleasure it spreads through so thankful a band! I'm glad for him, blind as he is! All the while, If they speak 'tis to praise, and they praise with a smile. "

But why should I occupy your time by quotations from celebrated poets orprose writers, to prove the influence of music, when I have it in mypower to verify the saying of that eminent composer whose life I haveundertaken to sketch?

"The effect of music on a man should be to strike fire from his soul. "

 (SONATA PATHETIQUE. )

Ludwig Von Beethoven was born on the 17th December, 1770, at Bonn. Hisfather and grandfather were both musicians by profession. The formeroccupied the situation of principal vocal tenor, and the latter that offirst bass singer in the chapel of the Elector of Cologne. 

From the earliest age Beethoven evinced a disposition for music; or, inother words, he learnt the language of music and his mother tongue bothat the same time; and as modulated sounds seldom fail to make a deepimpression on a young, fervid mind, when they are almost constantlypresented to it, as was the case in the present instance, he soonacquired, and as speedily manifested, a taste for the art of which theyare the foundation. 

His father began to instruct him when he was only in his fifth year. Ananecdote is told of his early performances, which corroborates what Ihave already said on the influence of music. It is said that, wheneverlittle Ludwig was playing in his closet on the violin, a spider wouldlet itself down from the ceiling and alight upon the instrument. Thestory, I am sorry, goes on to say that his mother one day, discoveringher son's companion, destroyed it, whereupon little Ludwig dashed hisviolin to shatters. 

At the early age of thirteen, Beethoven published at Mannheim, in hisown name, Variations on a March, Sonatas, and Songs. But at this timehis genius displayed itself more decidedly in musical improvisations. His extempore fantasias are mentioned by Gerber, in his Lexicon, ashaving excited the admiration of the most accomplished musicians of thetime. 

The fame of his youthful genius attracted the attention of the Electorof Cologne, who sent him at his own expense to Vienna, in character ofhis Court organist, to study under the celebrated Haydyn, in order toperfect himself in the art of composition. 

Vienna was at this time (1792), the central point of every thing greatand sublime, that music had till then achieved on the soil of Germany. 

Mozart, the source of all light in the region of harmony, whoseacquaintance Beethoven had made on his first visit to Vienna in 1786, who when he heard Beethoven extemporize upon a theme that was given him, exclaimed to those present, "This youth will some day make a noise inthe world"--Mozart, though he had been a year in his grave, yet livedfreshly in the memory of all who had a heart susceptible of his divinerevelations, as well as in Beethoven's. Gluck's spirit still hoveredaround the inhabitants of the old city--F. Haydyn and many otherdistinguished men in every art, and in every branch of human knowledge, yet lived and worked together harmoniously. In short, no sooner hadBeethoven, then but twenty-two, looked around him in this favoured abodeof the Muses, and made a few acquaintances, than he said to himself, "Here will I stay, and not return to Bonn even though the Elector shouldcut off my pension. "

Beethoven did not long enjoy the instructions of his master, for Haydynhanded him over to the care and instructions of the learnedAllrechtsberger. It appears, that the character of Beethoven was markedby great singularity from his earliest years. Both Haydyn andAllrechtsberger, but particularly the latter, have recorded that he wasnot willing to profit by good advice. Beethoven has himself been heardto confess, that among other peculiarities which he prided himself ondisplaying, when a young man, was that of refusing to acknowledgehimself as the pupil of Haydyn, at which this master took great offence. 

The consequence of this self-confident spirit was, that at this period, he made but little progress in composition, and was more ambitious tobecome a brilliant performer. Hence by the periodicals of that day, heis not allowed to possess the ability of composition; harshness ofmodulation, melodies more singular than pleasing, and a constantstruggle to be original, are among the principal faults of which he wasaccused. As to the latter charge it may be remarked, that it is thebesetting sin which has adhered to Beethoven through life; and who canhelp wishing that with it, he had also possessed the power of spreadingthe vice among his contemporaries, and of bequeathing it to hissuccessors. But if this indefatigable search after originality be a sin, to what new and extraordinary effects, to what wonders, has it not givenbirth? To whom so justly than to this author can these lines beapplied--

 "Great wits may sometimes gloriously offend, And rise to faults true critics dare not mend?"

Beethoven never defended himself against criticisms or attacks, he neversuffered them to have more than a superficial effect upon him. Notindifferent to the opinions of the good, he took no notice of theattacks of the malicious, and allowed them to go on unchecked, even whenthey proceeded so far as to assign him a place, sometimes in onemadhouse, sometimes in another. "If it _amuses_ people to say or towrite such stuff concerning me, let them continue so to do as long asthey please. "

(This may remind you of an anecdote of the Earl of Derby; being onceattacked in the House of Lords by the Duke of Argyle, the Earl in hisreply said, "A certain navvy, who happened to be married to a veryviolent woman, a regular virago, was asked why he allowed his wife toabuse him, or use such intemperate language. 'Poor creature, ' said thenavvy, 'it amuses her, and does not hurt me. ' So say I, the attack ofthe noble duke may amuse him but cannot injure me. ")

As in that classic period of musical activity, Beethoven was the sunwhich all strove to approach, and rejoiced if they could but catch aglance of his brilliant eyes, it was natural that he should conversemuch with ladies, several of whom were always contending for hisaffections at once, as it is well known, and he more than once foundhimself like Hercules in a dilemma. Dr. Wegeler, in his life ofBeethoven says, "He was never without an attachment, and that mostly hewas very deeply smitten. " This is quite true. How could any rationalperson who is acquainted with Beethoven, or ever heard his compositions, maintain the contrary. Whoever is capable of feeling how powerfully thepure flame of love operates upon the imagination, more especially of thesensitive and highly endowed artist, and how in all his productions itgoes before him like a light sent down from Heaven to guide him, willtake it for granted without any evidence that Beethoven was susceptibleof the purest love, and that he was conducted by it. What genius couldhave composed the Fantasia in C, commonly called the "Moonlight or theMoonshine Sonata, " without such a passion? It was love, for Bettine, towhom that imaginative composition is dedicated, (and to whom I shallagain have occasion to allude, ) which inspired him while engaged uponit. This piece will now be performed, and judge for yourselves whetherI have said too much in its praise:--

 [Fantasia in C. , commonly called the "Moonlight Sonata, " to designate this enthusiastic period of Beethoven's passion. ]

In the year 1800, we find Beethoven engaged in the composition of his"Christ on the Mount of Olives. " He wrote this work during his summerresidence at Hetzendorf, a pleasant village, closely contiguous to thegardens of the imperial palace of Shönbrunn, where he passed severalsummers of his life in profound seclusion. A circumstance connected withthis great work, and of which Beethoven many years afterwards stillretained a lively recollection, was that he composed it in the thickestpart of the wood, in the park of Shönbrunn, seated between the two stemsof an oak, which shot out from the main trunk at the height of about twofeet from the ground. 

About this period Beethoven endured much family annoyance and domestictrouble. His brothers who had some years previously followed him toVienna, began to govern him and to make him suspicious of his sincerestfriends and adherents, from wrong notions or even from jealousy. Surrounded by friends who loved and esteemed him--his fame alreadyestablished--with an ample income, he ought to have been completelyhappy; and he certainly would have been but for an infirmity which beganto afflict him, and the persecution of his brothers. His misery both ofmind and body, I can best describe by reading a portion of hisextraordinary will, which he at this time executed, and having that songsung which he at the same time composed, with special reference to thetorture he was undergoing. 

_Extracts from Beethoven's Will. _

"O ye who consider or declare me to be hostile, obstinate, ormisanthropic, what injustice ye do me! Ye know not the secret causes ofthat which to you wears such an appearance. My heart and my mind werefrom childhood prone to the tender feelings of affection. Nay, I wasalways disposed even to perform great actions. Born, with a lively, ardent disposition, susceptible to the diversions of society, I wasforced at an early age to renounce them and to pass my life inseclusion. If I strove at any time to set myself above all this, O, howcruelly was I driven back, by the doubly painful experience of mydefective hearing! And yet it was not possible for me to say to people, 'Speak louder, for I am deaf. ' Ah! how could I proclaim the defect of asense, that I once possessed in the highest perfection, in a perfectionin which few of my colleagues possess or ever did possess it? Indeed, Icannot. Forgive me then, if ye see me draw back when I would gladlymingle among you. 

"O God, thou lookest down upon my misery; thou knowest that it isaccompanied with love of my fellow creatures, and a disposition to dogood! O, men, when ye shall read this, think that ye have wronged me!

I go to meet death with joy; if he comes before I have had occasion todevelop all my professional abilities, he will come too soon for me, inspite of my hard fate, and I should wish that he had delayed hisarrival. But even then I am content, for he will release me from a stateof endless suffering. Come when thou wilt, I shall meet thee withfirmness. Farewell. "

 "There is a calm for those who weep; A rest for weary pilgrims found; And while the mouldering ashes sleep Low in the ground, The soul of origin divine, God's glorious image, freed from day, In Heaven's eternal sphere shall shine A star of day. "

 [_In Questa Tomba Oscura. _ Words by Göthe; Music by Beethoven. ]

Let us proceed from grave to gay. I have already told you that Beethovenwas a man of ardent feeling, and passionately in love with a young lady, Madame Von Arnim. I will read to you, one of his love letters, and Irecommend the style to all the unmarried I have the pleasure toaddress:--

VIENNA, _August 11th, 1810_. 

"DEAREST BETTINE, "Never was a fairer spring than this year's; this I say and feel, too, as in it I made your acquaintance. You must, indeed, have yourself seen, that, in society, I was like a fish cast on the sand, that writhes, andstruggles, and cannot escape, until some benevolent Galatea helps backagain into the mighty sea; in very truth, I was fairly aground. DearestBettine, unexpectedly I met you, and at a moment when chagrin hadcompletely overcome me; but, truly, your aspect put it to flight. I wasaware in an instant that you belong to a totally different world fromthis absurd one, to which, even with the best wish to be tolerant, it isimpossible to open one's ears. I am myself a poor creature, and yetcomplain of others! this you will, however, forgive, _with the kindlyheart that looks out from your eyes, and with the intelligence thatdwells in your ears_--at least, your ears know how to flatter when theylisten. Mine, alas! are a barrier through which I can have hardly anyfriendly intercourse with mankind, else, perhaps, I might have acquireda still more entire confidence in you. As it was, I could onlycomprehend the full, expressive glance of your eyes, and this has somoved me that I shall never forget it. Divine Bettine! dearest girl!Art! who comprehends the meaning of this word? With whom may I speak ofthis great divinity? how I love the recollections of the few days whenwe used to chat with each other, or rather correspond. I have preservedevery one of the little scraps of paper on which your intelligent, precious, most precious replies were given--thus, at least, may I thankmy worthless ears that the best portion of our fugitive discourse isretained in writing. 

"Since you went, I have had many uncomfortable hours, in which the powerto do anything is lost. After you had gone away, I rambled about forsome three hours in the Museum at Schönbrunn; but no good angel met methere, to chide me into good humour, as an angel like you might havedone. Forgive, sweetest Bettine, this transition from the fundamentalkey--but I must have such intervals to vent my feelings. 

"And you have written of me to Göethe, have you not? saying that I wouldfain pack up my head in a cask, where I should see nothing and hearnothing of what passes in the world, since you, dearest angel, meet mehere no longer. But, surely I shall at least have a letter from you. Hope supports me--she is, indeed, the nursing mother of half the world, and she has been my close friend all my life long--what would havebecome of me else? I send with this 'Knowest thou the land, ' which Ihave just composed, as a memorial of the time when I first becameacquainted with you. "

This song will now be sung for you. The words are from the German ofGöthe. 

 ("Knowest thou the land where the sweet citron blows. ")

Beethoven's interviews with Bettine were not all wasted in rhapsodies oflove. In one of his conversations with this accomplished lady he thuseloquently describes the power of poetry and the philosophy of music:--

 "Göthe's poems exercise a great sway over me, not only by their meaning but by their rhythm also. It is a language that urges me on to composition, that builds up its own lofty standard, containing in itself all the mysteries of harmony, so that I have but to follow up the radiations of that centre from which melodies evolve spontaneously. I pursue them eagerly, overtake them, then again see them flying before me, vanish in the multitude of my impressions, until I seize them anew with increased vigour no more to be parted from them. It is then that my transports give them every diversity of modulation: it is I who triumph over the first of these musical thoughts, and the shape I give it I call symphony. Yes, Bettina, _music is the link between intellectual and sensual life_. 

 "Melody gives a sensible existence to poetry; for does not the meaning of a poem become embodied in melody? The mind would embrace all thoughts, both high and low, and embody them into one stream of sensations, all sprung from simple melody, and without the aid of its charms doomed to die in oblivion. This is the unity which lives in my symphonies--numberless streamlets meandering on, in endless variety of shape, but all diverging into one common bed. Thus it is I feel that there is an indefinite something, an eternal, an infinite to be attained; and although I look upon my works with a foretaste of success, yet I cannot help wishing, like a child, to begin my task anew, at the very moment that my thundering appeal to my hearers seems to have forced my musical creed upon them, and thus to have exhausted the insatiable cravings of my soul after my 'beau ideal. '

 "Music alone ushers man into the portal of an intellectual world, ready to encompass _him_, but which _he_ may never encompass. That mind alone whose every thought is rhythm can embody music, can comprehend its mysteries, its divine inspirations, and can alone speak to the senses of its intellectual revelations. Although spirits may feed upon it as we do upon air, yet it may not nourish all mortal men; and those privileged few alone, who have drawn from its heavenly source, may aspire to hold spiritual converse with it. How few are these! for, like the thousands who marry for love, and who profess love, whilst love will single out but one amongst them, so also will thousands court Music, whilst she turns a deaf ear to all but the chosen few. She, too, like her sister arts, is based upon morality--_that fountain-head of genuine invention_! And would you know the true principle on which the arts _may_ be won? It is to bow to their immutable terms, to lay all passion and vexation of spirit prostrate at their feet, and to approach their divine presence with a mind so calm and so void of littleness as to be ready to receive the dictates of fantasy and the revelations of truth. Thus the art becomes a divinity, man approaches her with religious feelings, his inspirations are God's divine gifts, and his aim fixed by the same hand from above which helps him to attain it. "

And he adds:--"We know not whence our knowledge is derived. The seedswhich lie dormant in us require the dew, the warmth, and the electricityof the soil to spring up, to ripen into thought, and to break forth. Music is the electrical soil in which the mind thrives, thinks, andinvents. Music herself teaches us harmony; for _one_ musical thoughtbears upon the whole kindred of ideas, and each is linked to the other, closely and indissolubly, by the ties of harmony. "

Hearken to proof of the truth of this eloquent and beautiful descriptionof music. 

 (WALTZ. --Beethoven. )

The talents of a Haydyn and Mozart raised instrumental composition inGermany to an astonishing elevation; and Beethoven may be said not onlyto have maintained the art in that stupendous altitude, but even in somerespects to have brought it to a still higher degree of perfection. "Haydyn, " says Reichardt, "drew his quartets from the pure source of hissweet and unsophisticated nature, his captivating simplicity andcheerfulness. In these works he is still without an equal. Mozart'smightier genius and richer imagination took a more extended range, andembodied in several passages the most profound and sublime qualities ofhis own mind. Moreover, he was much greater as a performer than Haydyn, and as such expected more from instruments than the latter did. He alsoallowed more merit to highly-wrought and complicated compositions, andthus raised a gorgeous palace within Haydyn's fairy bower. Of thispalace Beethoven was an early inmate; and in order adequately to expresshis own peculiar forms of style, he had no other means but to surmountthe edifice with that defying and colossal tower which no one willprobably presume to carry higher with impunity. 

"If any man, " says an able writer in the Quarterly, "can be said toenjoy an almost universal admiration as composer, it is Beethoven--who, disdaining to copy his predecessors in any, the most distant manner, has, notwithstanding, by his energetic, bold, and uncommon style ofwriting, carried away a prize from our modern Olympus. "

Beethoven, like most great men, had many peculiarities. 

In winter, well as in summer, it was his practice to rise at daybreak, and immediately to sit down to his writing-table. There he would labourtill two or three o'clock, his usual dinnertime. Scarcely had the lastmorsel been swallowed, when, if he had no more distant excursion inview, he took his usual walk--that is to say, he ran in double quicktime, as if hunted by bailiffs, twice round the town--whether itrained, or snowed, or hailed, or the thermometer stood an inch or twobelow the freezing point--whether Boreas blew a chilling blast from theBohemian mountains, or whether the thunder roared, and forked lightningsplayed, what signified it to the enthusiastic lover of his art, in whosegenial mind, perhaps, were budding, at that very moment, when theelements were in fiercest conflict, the harmonious feelings of a balmyspring. 

The use of the bath was as much a necessity to Beethoven as to aTurk--and he was in the habit of submitting himself to frequentablutions. When it happened that he did not walk out of doors to collecthis ideas, he would, not unfrequently, in a fit of the most completeabstraction, go to his washhand basin, and pour several jugs of waterupon his hands, all the time humming and roaring. After dabbling in thewater till his clothes were wet through, he would pace up and down theroom with a vacant expression of countenance, and his eyes distended, the singularity of his aspect being often increased by an unshavenbeard. Then he would seat himself at his table and write; and afterwardsget up again to the washhand basin and dabble and hum as before. Ludicrous as were these scenes, no one dared venture to notice them, orto disturb him while engaged in his inspiring ablutions, for these werehis moments of profoundest meditation. 

Many anecdotes are told of him likewise. 

The wife of an esteemed pianoforte player, residing in Vienna, was agreat admirer of Beethoven, and she earnestly wished to possess a lockof his hair--her husband, anxious to gratify her, applied to a gentlemanwho was very intimate with Beethoven, and who had rendered him someservice. Beethoven sent the lady a lock of hair cut from a _goat'sbeard_--and Beethoven's own hair being very grey and harsh, there was noreason to fear that the hoax would be very readily detected. The ladywas overjoyed at possessing this supposed memorial of her saint, proudly showing it to all her acquaintance; but, when her happiness atits height, some one who happened to know the secret, made heracquainted with the deception that had been practised on her--the lady'swrath who will attempt to describe?

Beethoven's name I have already told you was Ludwig Von Beethoven. Insome legal proceedings in which he was concerned, it was intimated bythe court that the word von, of Dutch origin, does not ennoble thefamily to whose name it is prefixed--according to the laws ofHolland--that, in the province of the Rhine in which Beethoven was born, it was held to be of no higher value--that, consequently, the halo ofnobility ought to be stripped from this Von in Austria also. Beethovenwas accordingly required to produce proofs of his nobility. "My_nobility_! My _nobility_!" he exclaimed--"_Why, my nobility is here, here!_"--clapping his forehead. 

Right, Beethoven, brains are the highest nobility, if not the richest. I love birth, and ancestry, when they are incentives to exertion not thetitle deeds to sloth. Who would not prefer being the descendant of aStephenson, an Arkwright, or a Crompton, or any other of those greatarchitects of their own fortunes, and to feel some of their nobleenergies, firing their blood to efforts of industry, than to be for everfalling back on some legend or fiction of ancestry; and in the absenceof any _personal_ claim to greatness to be referring back and dependingon those great mistakes of our forefathers, when he who waded throughslaughter to a peerage was honoured _above_ those whose brains and whoseindustry were the means of promoting the comfort of their fellow men. Believe me, my young friends, the highest honour of earth, is the honourof independence, and the highest nobility, _to be the Rodolph of yourown fortune, and a benefactor to mankind_. 

Beethoven died 26th March, 1827, in the fifty-sixth year of his age. Although his warmth of temper, extreme frankness and singularity ofmanners, his little reserve in judging of people, and above all, thatdeplorable calamity--the greatest which can befall a man of hisprofession--his extreme deafness, seemed little calculated to endear himto the true admirers of his genius. Still, notwithstanding his foibles, which much more frequently belong to great than to ordinary men, hischaracter as a man and as a citizen ranked deservedly high. Although hisoriginality induced him to deviate from ordinary rules, in the littleaffairs of common life, yet his high feeling of honour and rightproduced a rectitude in his moral conduct, which ensured to him theesteem of every honourable man. 

 Beethoven--the master spirit of his age-- Has passed away to his eternal rest, His name belongs to history's page, Enrolled with men the noblest and the best. 

 We to whom it was not given to view His living lineaments with wond'ring eye, May in his tones behold him pictured true In breathing colours that can never die. 

 For he could paint in tones of magic force The moody passions of the varying soul; Now winding round the heart with playful course; Now storming all the breast with wild control. 

 Forthdrawing from his unexhausted store, 'Twas his to bid the burden'd heart o'erflow, Infusing joys it never knew before, And melting it with soft luxuriant woe!

 He liveth! It is wrong to say he's dead-- The sun, tho' smoking in the fading west, Again shall issue from his morning bed, Like a young giant vigorous from his rest. 

 He lives! for that is truly living when Our fame is a bequest from mind to mind, His life is in the breathing hearts of men, Transmitted to the latest of his kind. 

NOTES. 

_Note on Page 19. _

The earliest copy of the tune, as far as is known, stands in a Genevanedition of a portion of the English Psalter, preserved as an article ofrare value in the library of St. Paul's Cathedral. The date of thePsalter is 1561. The tune is therein given to Sternhold's version of theHundredth Psalm. 

This fairly settles the _vexata questio_ as to the authorship of thetune. There is no evidence that it originated with Luther, to whom it isgenerally attributed--but there is evidence that it did originate withFranc, of Geneva; and the only claim to originality is grounded on thediscovery of the sources from whence Franc derived the phrases of thetune. Those phrases are so palpably Gregorian, that Franc's constructionof the tune can be regarded only a fragmentary compilation. 

Considered, then, as Gregorian in its texture, "The Old Hundredth" is, indeed, very old, much older than is commonly imagined. Its severalstrains had been sung by Christian voices not only one thousand yearsbefore Luther was born, but for centuries before the Papal system wasdeveloped. Viewed in this light, the old tune assumes a new interest, and its antique tones vibrate with freshened impulse. 

_Note on Page 32. _

In 1699 and the following years many schools were established under theagency of the Christian Knowledge Society, in and about the metropolis;and, in the year 1704, when the first meeting of the children educatedin these charity schools took place, in St. Andrew's Church, Holborn, the number of children present amounted to no less than two thousand!

From that time to the present, the children of these schools assembleyearly in some church of the metropolis, when a sermon, appropriate tothe occasion, is preached. In 1782, they first met in St. Paul'sCathedral, where they have ever since assembled. 

_Note on Page 36. _

We may reasonably hope that something will now be done towards effectingthis object. Committees have been formed, and numerous meetings arebeing held to consider the subject. As might be expected, many anddiverse tributes of respect are proposed, not the least sensible orsuitable that of our national _Thersites_. "It will be hard to find abetter site for the Memorial than in the Temple Garden, which is seenfrom the river, and will be seen from the embankment. "--PUNCH, _26thDecember, 1863_. 

_Note on Page 45. _

A lady who heard this lecture has since told me an equally strange fact. In her native parish there was an amateur choir, which assembled twice aweek in the parish church to practise. On the lobby of the gallerywherein the choir assembled, there was a piano, to lead and accompanythe voices; as regularly as the piano was played, a _Robin RedBreast_--an old tenant of the churchyard--would perch on the instrument, and remain as long as the music continued. My informant was frequentlythe performer and always had the pleasure of _Dicky's_ company. 

THE END. 

C. J. SKEET, 10, KING WILLIAM STREET, CHARING CROSS.