Mr Burke, who was one of Sir Joshua's executors, attempted to thank the members of the Royal Academy for the respect shewn to the remains of their late President; but the orator's feelings could only find vent in tears-he could not utter a word. A memorial print, engraved by Bartolozzi, was presented to each of the gentlemen attending the funeral.

Sir Joshua Reynolds,' says Burke, 'was on very many accounts one of the most memorable men of his time. He was the first Englishman who added the praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his country. In taste, in grace, in facility, in happy invention, in the richness and harmony of colouring, he was equal to the greatest inventors of the renowned ages. He had too much merit not to excite some jealousy, too much innocence to provoke any enmity. The loss of no man of his time can be felt with more sincere, general, and unmixed sorrow.'

CATO-STREET CONSPIRACY.

• ...

The popular discontents following the close of the great war-after efflorescing in radicalism, Manchester meetings, street oratory, Cobbett's Registers, &c.-came to a sort of head in the early part of 1820. A combination of mean men was then formed, with a view to the effecting a revolution by means of sanguinary violence. The chief man concerned was one named Arthur Thistlewood, who had been a soldier, who had been involved in a trial for sedition, but acquitted, and who had afterwards suffered a year's imprisonment for sending a challenge to the minister, Lord Sidmouth. He was a desperate man, animated by a spirit of revenge which overpowered reason. It seemed to him not impossible, by some such stroke as that contemplated in the Gunpowder Treason, to create a national confusion out of which a better government might be evoked; and he found a number of extreme radicals, of like fortunes with himself, to join in his enterprise. In all such movements of the common sort of people, there are always some whose virtue does not enable them to resist bribery. The Government never remained unacquainted with the conspiracies formed against it.

Months before the development of the plot, it was fully known to the ministers, who, according to the wretched policy which necessity suggested to them, employed spies named Oliver and Edwards to stimulate its authors, so as to make them clearly amenable to the law. Thistlewood and a group of associates went on meeting in some den in Gray's Inn-lane, arranging their plans, unconscious of the traitors in their midst. Their main design was to assassinate the ministers, each in his own house; but, at length learning that there was to be a cabinet dinner at the house of Earl Harrowby, President of the Council, in Grosvenor-square, on the 23rd of February, they resolved to wait for it, Thistlewood remarking with savage glee, It will be a rare haul to murder them all together.'

It was arranged that some of the conspirators should watch Lord Harrowby's house; one was to call and deliver a dispatch-box at the door;

SCENT BALLS AND POMANDERS.

the others were then to rush in, and having secured the servants, they were to assassinate the ministers as they sat at dinner; bringing away as special trophies, the heads of Lord Sidmouth and Lord Castlereagh, in two bags provided for the purpose! They were then to set fire to the cavalry barracks; and the Bank of England and the Tower of London were to be taken by the people, who, it was hoped, would rise upon the spread of the news. It can scarcely be believed that such a scheme should have been seriously planned in the metropolis only forty years since; yet such was the fact.

With a view to the attack in Grosvenor-square, their place of meeting was a loft over a stable in Cato-street, near the Edgware-road. Here the conspirators having mustered to the number of twenty-four, took the precaution of placing one as a sentinel below, whilst they prepared for their dreadful work. Meanwhile, the ministers, fully apprised of what was going on, did not arrive at Lord Harrowby's: the Archbishop of York, who lived next door, happened to give a dinner-party at the same hour as that appointed at Lord Harrowby's, and the arrival of carriages at the Archbishop's deceived those of the conspirators who were on the watch in the square, and they did not discover their mistake until it was too late to give warning to their comrades assembled in Cato-street. Here, while the traitors were arming themselves by the light of one or two candles, a party of Bow-street officers, mounting by a ladder, forcibly entered the loft: the foremost of them, in attempting to seize Thistlewood, was run by him through the body, and instantly fell; the lights were extinguished, a few shots were exchanged, and Thistlewood and some of his companions escaped through a window at the back of the premises: nine were taken that evening, with their arms and ammunition; and the intelligence was conveyed to the ministers, who had met at Lord Liverpool's, at Westminster, to await the result. A reward of £1,000 was immediately offered for the apprehension of Thistlewood, and he was captured next morning, while in bed, at the house of a friend in Little Moorfields.

con

The conspirators were sent to the Tower, the last persons imprisoned in that fortress. On the 20th of April, Thistlewood was demned to death after three days' trial; and on May 1, he and his four principal accomplices,Ings, Brunt, Tidd, and Davidson, who had been severally tried and convicted, were hanged at the Old Bailey. The remaining six pleaded guilty; one received a pardon, and five were transported for life. To efface recollection of the conspiracy, Cato-street has been re-named Homer

street.

SCENT-BALLS AND POMANDERS.

Among the minor objects of personal use which appear, from an inventory, to have belonged to Margaret de Bohun, daughter of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Essex, slain at the battle of Boroughbridge, March 16, 1321, is a poume de aumbre,' or scent-ball, in the composition of which ambergris probably formed a principal ingredient. We here learn also that a nutmeg was occasionally used for

the like purpose; it was set in silver, decorated with stones and pearls, and was evidently an object rare and highly prized. Amongst the valuable effects of Henry V., according to the inventory taken A.D. 1423, are enumerated a musk-ball of gold, weighing eleven ounces, and another of silver gilt. At a later period, the pomander was very commonly worn as the pendant of a lady's girdle. A receipt for compounding it may be found in the Treasury of Commodious Conceits,

1586.

The orange appears to have been used as a pomander soon after its introduction into England. Cavendish describes Cardinal Wolsey entering a crowded chamber holding in his hand a very fair orange, whereof the meat or substance within was taken out, and filled up again with the part of a sponge, wherein was vinegar and other confections against the pesti lent airs; the which he most commonly smelt unto, passing among the press, or else he was pestered with many suitors.

Sir Thomas Gresham, in his celebrated portrait by Sir Antonio More, holds in his left hand a small object resembling an orange, but which is a pomander. This sometimes consisted of a dried Seville orange, stuffed with cloves and other spices; and being esteemed a fashionable preservative against infection, it frequently occurs in old portraits, either suspended to the girdle or held in the hand. In the eighteenth century, the signification of this object had become so far forgotten, that, instead of pomanders, bona fide oranges were introduced into portraits, a practice which Goldsmith has happily satirized in his Vicar of Wakefield, where seven of the Flamboroughs are drawn with seven oranges, &c. When the pomander was made of silver, it was

MR FOX; AN OLD ENGLISH NURSERY STORY. In Shakspeare's Much Ado About Nothing, Benedict (Act L, Sc. 1) alludes to the old tale-it is not so, nor 'twas not so, but indeed God forbid it should be so." It is believed by his laborious commentator, Mr Halliwell, that Shakspeare here had in his recollection a simple English nursery story which he had probably heard in his infancy at Stratford, and of which some memory still survives. The story is given by the

AN OLD ENGLISH NURSERY STORY.

learned commentator as follows: Once upon a time there was a young lady, called Lady Mary, who had two brothers. One summer they all went to a country seat of theirs, which they had not before visited. Among the other gentry in the neighbourhood who came to see them, was a Mr Fox, a bachelor, with whom they, particularly the young lady, were much pleased. He used often to dine with them, and frequently invited Lady Mary to come and see his house. One day that her brothers were absent elsewhere, and she had nothing better to do, she determined to go thither; and accordingly set out unattended. When she arrived at the house, and knocked at the door, no one answered. At length she opened it and went in; over the portal of the hall was written, "Be bold, be bold-but not too bold, lest that your heart's blood should run cold." She opened it; it was full of skeletons and tubs full of blood. She retreated in haste, and coming down stairs she saw Mr Fox advancing towards the house with a drawn sword in one hand, while with the other he dragged along a young lady by her hair. Lady Mary had just time to slip down, and hide her. self under the stairs, before Mr Fox and his victim arrived at the foot of them. As he pulled the young lady upstairs, she caught hold of one of the banis ters with her hand, on which was a rich bracelet. Mr Fox cut it off with his sword: the hand and bracelet fell into Lady Mary's lap, who then contrived to escape unobserved, and got home safe to her brothers' house. After a few days, Mr Fox came to dine with them as usual. After dinner, when the guests began to amuse each other with extraordinary anecdotes, Lady Mary at length said she would relate to them a remarkable dream she had lately had. "I dreamt," said she, "that as you, Mr Fox, had often invited me to go to your house, I would go there one morning. When I came to the house I knocked, but no one answered. When I opened the door, over the hall was written, 'Be bold, be bold-but not too bold.' But," said she, turning to Mr Fox, and smiling, "it is not so, nor it was not so." Then she pursued the rest of the story, concluding at every turn with "It is not so, nor it was not so," till she came to the room full of dead bodies, when Mr Fox took up the burden of the tale, and said, "It is not so, nor it was not so; and God forbid it should be so," which he continues to repeat at every subsequent turn of the dreadful story, till she came to the circumstance of the cutting off the young lady's hand, when, upon his saying as usual, "It is not so, nor it was not so; and God forbid it should be so," Lady Mary retorts, "But it is so, and it was so, and here's the hand I have to show;" at the same time producing the bracelet from her lap; whereupon the guests drew their swords, and cut Mr Fox into a thousand pieces.'

It is worthy of notice that the mysterious inscrip. tion seen by the lady in Mr Fox's house is identical with that represented by Spenser (Faerie Queen, III. xi. 54), as beheld by Britomart in

the house of Busyrane, Where Love's spoyles are exprest.'

It occurs in the following stanza:

'And as she lookt about she did behold How over that same dore was likewise writ, Be bold, be bold, and everywhere Be bold; That much she mus'd, yet could not construe it By any ridling skill or commune wit. At last she spyde at that rowme's upper end Another yron dore, on which was writ, Be not too bold; whereto. though she did bend Her earnest mind, yet wist not what it might intend. It cannot be said that there is much in the story of Mr Fox; but it is curious to find it a matter of fami

liar knowledge to two writers like Shakspeare and Spenser; and we learn from their allusions that, rude and simple as it is, it has existed for about three centuries, if not more.

FEBRUARY 24.

St Matthias, the Apostle, Colchis. Saints Montanus, Lucius, Flavian, Julian, Victoricus, Primolus, Rhenus, and Donatian, martyrs at Carthage, 259. St Pretextatus, archbishop of Rouen, martyr, about 585. St Lethard, bishop of Senlis, 596, Canterbury. St Ethelbert, first Christian king of England, 616. Robert of Arbrissel, 111.

Born.-John Picus, Count of Mirandola, 1463; Charles

V. (of Spain), 1500, Ghent; George Frederick Handel, musical composer, 1684, Halle; James Quin, actor, 1693, Covent-garden; Robert Lord Clive, conqueror of Bengal,

1726; Charles Lamb, humorous essayist, 1775, London; Robert Lord Gifford, Master of the Rolls, 1779. Died.-Richard de la Pole, Francis Duke of Lorraine, and General de la Tremouille, killed at Pavia, 1525; Francis Duke of Guise, assassinated, 1563; James Earl of Derwentwater, beheaded, 1716; Joseph (of Portugal), 1777; Charles Buonaparte, 1785; Hon. Henry Cavendish, amateur chemist, 1810; John Keats, poet, 1821, Rome; Thomas Coutts, banker, 1822; John VI. (of Portugal), 1826.

MEMORIALS OF HANDEL.

George Frederick Handel, although a native of Germany (born at Halle, in Saxony, on the 24th of February, 1684), from having passed nearly the whole of his life in England, and produced in it all his great works, is almost claimed by us as an Englishman. When a child, he sacrificed his play-hours, and sometimes even his meals, to his passion for music, which was so successfully cultivated, that, when only ten years of age, he composed a set of sonatas, not without their value as pieces of music.

At the outset of his professional life in 1703, he had nearly been lost to the world. It was at Hamburg that he got embroiled with Mattheson, an able musician, who violently assaulted him. A duel ensued, and nothing but a score, buttoned under Handel's coat, on which his antagonist's weapon broke, saved a life that was to prove of inestimable value. Handel was never married: the charms of his music impressed many beauties and singers in his favour; but he shewed no disposition to avail himself of their partialities. His thoughts were nearly all absorbed by his art, and a high sense of moral propriety distinctly marked his conduct through life.

Handel, as a composer, was great in every style. In sacred music, especially of the choral kind, he throws at an immeasurable distance all who preceded and followed him.

Handel first arrived in London in 1710, and was soon honoured by the notice of Queen Anne. Aaron Hill was then manager of the opera, and his Rinaldo was set to music by Handel, and produced in March, 1711. At the peace of Utrecht, he composed for that event a Te Deum and Jubilate; and a pension of £200 was the reward of this service. In 1714, when the Elector of Hanover was placed on the British

MEMORIALS OF HANDEL.

throne, Handel, not having kept his promise to return to Hanover, durst not present himself at court but he got over the difficulty by a pleasant stratagem: his friend, Baron Kilmansegge, contrived that he should meet the King, during a royal excursion on the Thames, with a band of wind instruments, playing the charming Water Music, written for the occasion; the composer was received again into favour, his pension was doubled; and many years after, when appointed to teach the Princesses, Queen Caroline, consort of George II., added another £200, making altogether £600 per annum, no small income a century ago.

Next he became chapel-master to the Duke of Chandos, at Canons, and there he produced most of his concertos, sonatas, lessons, and organ fugues; besides his Acis and Galatea, for which Gay wrote the poetry. Then he carried out the conversion of the Italian Theatre into an Academy of Music; he was engaged as manager, and produced fifteen new operas; but the Italians virulently opposed the German intruder;' the cabal became insupportable, and the great composer and able manager retired with a loss of £10,000 and broken health. He next attempted operas at Covent Garden Theatre, but this speculation proved equally unfortunate. He next gave Lent oratorios, but with no better success; even his sublimest work, The Messiah, was ill attended and received in the metropolis, when first produced in 1741. These failures were caused by the hostility of the nobility, notwithstanding the patronage of the Royal family. He then took refuge in Ireland, where he began by performing The Messiah for the benefit of the city prison. He returned to London in 1742, renewed his oratorios at Covent Garden Theatre, and henceforth was uniformly successful; and he continued his oratorios with great profit nearly to the last day of his life.

Handel died on a Good Friday (according to his own wish), April 13, 1759, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Late in life he was afflicted with blindness; but he continued to perform and even composed pieces, and assisted at one of his oratorios only a week before his death.

Handel will long be remembered for his munificent aid to the Foundling Hospital in London. In 1749, he gave a performance of his own compositions, by which the charity realized five hundred guineas, and every subsequent year he superintended the performance of The Messiah in the Foundling Hospital Chapel, which netted altogether £7,000; he also presented an organ, and bequeathed to the charity a fair copy of the score and parts of the oratorio of The Messiah.

The memory of Handel has been preserved by a series of performances of his works under the roof which covers his dust. At a century from his birth, in 1784, was given the first Commemora tion, zealously patronised by George III., who was so fond of music that he was accustomed to write out the programmes of his own concerts. Handel's Abbey Commemoration' was repeated annually till 1791; these performances benefiting different metropolitan charities to the amount of £50,000. In 1834, took place another Comme

moration in the Abbey. Festivals of Handel's music have since been given by the Sacred Harmonic Society, and in the Crystal Palace at Sydenham, upon a very grand scale.

We possess in England many memorials of the genius and character of this excellent man. Roubiliac's first and last works in this country were his statue of Handel, for Vauxhall Gardens, and his monumental statue of the great composer in Poet's Corner, Westminster Abbey. His autographs are highly treasured: in the Queen's library are the original MSS. of nearly all Handel's works, filling eighty-two folio volumes; and his MS. scores and letters are preserved in the board-room of the Foundling Hospital. Portraits of Handel are numerous: he was painted by Thornhill, Kyte, Denner, Wolfand, Hudson, and Grafoni. The portrait by Denner was in Handel's own possession, and is most trustworthy, though Walpole describes Hudson's portrait as 'honest similitude;' it is at Gopsal, the seat of Earl Howe. The statue of Handel from Vauxhall is now in the possession of the Sacred Harmonic Society; and a cast of Handel's features, taken after death by Roubiliac for the Abbey statue, is carefully preserved, as are a few impressions from the mould. A harpsichord and book-case, which once belonged to the great composer, are also treasured as relics. He lived many years in the house No. 57, on the south side of Brook-street, four doors from Bond-street, and here he gave rehearsals of his oratorios.

Handel was fond of society, enjoyed his pipe over a cup of coffee, and was a lively wit in

ANIMAL COMEDIANS.

conversation. He was very fond of Mrs Cibber, at whose house, on Sunday evenings, he often met Quin, the comedian. One evening Handel, having delighted the company by playing on the harpsichord, took his leave. After he was gone, Quin was asked by Mrs Cibber whether he did not think Mr Handel had a charming hand? A hand, madam! you mistake, it is a foot.' Poh! poh!' said she, has he not a fine finger ?' Toes, madam!' In fact, his hand was so fat, that the knuckles, which usually appear convex, were, like those of a child, dinted or dimpled in; however, his touch was so smooth, that his fingers seemed to grow to the keys. They were so curved and compact when he played, that no motion, and scarcely the fingers themselves, could be perceived. In performing on the organ, his command of the instrument was amazing, as was the fulness of his harmony, and the grandeur and dignity of his style. He wore an enormous white wig, and when things went well at the oratorios, it had a certain nod or vibration, which denoted his pleasure and satisfaction. Without this signal, nice observers were certain that he was out of humour. At the close of an air, the voice with which he used to cry out Chorus!' was formidable indeed. Handel died possessed of £20,000, which, with the exception of £10,000 to the fund for decayed musicians, he chiefly bequeathed to his relations on the Continent.

6

MRS MIDNIGHT'S ANIMAL COMEDIANS.

The town,' as Beau Tibbs would say, was regaled, in 1753, with a new pleasure, under the