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. 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. At The town,' as Beau Tibbs would say, was regaled, in 1753, with a new pleasure, under the for 320 mulwells. FISH AND FISH PIES IN LENT. The cooks had many ways of preparing the fish. Herring-pies were considered as delicacies even by royalty. The town of Yarmouth, by ancient charter, was bound to send a hundred herrings, baked in twenty-four pies or pasties, annually to the king; and Eustace de Corson, Thomas de Berkedich, and Robert de Withen, in the reign of Edward I., held thirty acres by tenure of supplying twenty-four pasties of fresh herrings, for the king's use, on their first coming into season. appellation of Mrs Midnight's Animal Comedians. Fifty marks for five lasts (9,000) red herrings, twelve With incredible labour and patience, a number pounds for two lasts of white herrings, six pounds of dogs and monkeys had been trained to go for two barrels of sturgeon, twenty-one pounds five through certain scenic representations, which shillings for 1300 stock-fish, thirteen shillings and were generally acknowledged to be a marvel-ninepence for eighty-nine congers, and twenty marks lously good imitation of the doings of human actors. The performance took place in a small theatre, which was fitted up with appropriate scenery, decorations, &c., and was, we believe, well attended. A representation of the stage as it appeared from the pit, is reproduced on the preceding page from a contemporary print, in which, however, there are compartments exhibiting other performances by the animal comedians. Taking these compartments as evidence on the subject, we find that there was a Monkeys' Entertainment, two of these animals being seated in full dress at a table with wine and cake, while another of the same species attended with a plate under his arm. Two dogs, accoutred like soldiers, shewed their agility by jumping over a succession of bundles of sticks. Three personated Harlequin, Pero (?), and Columbine, the last attired in a prodigious hoop. Two monkeys, in cloaks and cocked hats, were exercised upon the backs of a couple of dogs. Another monkey, mounted on dog-back, went through a series of quasi-equestrian performances, mounting and dismounting with the greatest propriety. There was also a grand Ballet Dance of dogs and monkeys in the formal dresses of the period, powdered hair, &c., and of this we have caused a copy to be prepared (p. 293). In the original a lady' has just been brought in in a sedan. Certainly, however, the principal performance was a Siege, of which also a copy here appears. The stage in this instance presented the exterior of a fortified town. Monkeys manned the walls, and fired at a multitude of canine besiegers. The army of dogs, under their brave commanders, came forward with unflinching courage, and, a couple of ladders being planted, they mounted the ramparts with the greatest agility, and entered the city sword in hand, disregarding such casualties as the fall of two or three of the storming party into the ditch. The simial defenders, as we may suppose, gave a determined resistance; but all was in vain against canine courage, and soon the flag of the assailants waved upon the battlements. When the smoke cleared away, the besieged and besiegers were observed in friendly union on the top of the fore-wall, taking off their hats to the tune of God save the King, and humbly saluting the audience. Tradition intimates to us that Mrs Midnight's Animal Comedians were for a season in great favour in London; yet, strange to say, there is no notice of them in the Gentleman's Magazine, or any other chronicle of the time which we have been able to consult. FISH AND FISH PIES IN LENT. The strictness with which our ancestors observed Lent and fast-days led to a prodigious consumption of fish by all classes; and great quantities are entered in ancient household accounts as having been bought for family use. In the 31st year of the reign of Edward III., the following sums were paid from the Exchequer for fish supplied to the royal household : Lampreys were the favourite dish of the mediaval epicures; they were always considered a great delireign of King John, as to have induced that monarch cacy. So great was the demand for this fish in the to issue a royal licence to one Sampson, to go to Nantes to purchase lampreys for the use of the Countess of Blois. The same king issued a mandate to the sheriffs of Gloucester (that city being famous for producing lampreys), forbidding them, on their first coming in, to be sold for more than two shillings a piece. In the reign of Edward III., they were sometimes sold for eight pence or tenpence a piece, and they often produced a much higher price. In 1341, Walter Dastyn, sheriff of Gloucester, received the sum of £12, 5s. 8d. for forty-four lampreys supplied for the king's use.' The corporation of Gloucester presented to the sovereign every Christmas, as a token of their loyalty, a lamprey-pie, which was sometimes a costly gift, as lampreys at that season could scarcely be procured at a guinea a piece. (See Fish, how to choose, how to dress. Printed at Launceston.) The Severn is noted from its lampreys, and Gloucester noted for its peculiar mode of stewing them; indeed, a Gloucester lamprey will almost excuse the royal excess of Henry I., who died at Rouen, of an illness brought on by eating too freely of this choice fish, after a day spent in hunting. : In addition to these favourite dishes, the choice vianders' of the fourteenth century paid epicurean prices for delicious morsels of the whale, the porpoise, the grampus, and the sea-wolf. These animals, being then considered as fish, were held as allowable food in Lent it is lamentable to think how much sin they thus occasioned among our forefathers, before they were discovered to be mammalian. The flesh of the porpoise was cooked in various ways: a manuscript in the British Museum contains a receipt for making 'puddynge of porpoise' (Harl. MSS., No. 279); and VIII., and in the north to a later period. we find it served at table as late as the time of Henry Use of Militia Drilling and Tactics.-Gibbon, who at one part of his life was a captain in the Hampshire regiment of militia, remained ever after sensible of a benefit from it. He says, 'It made me an Englishman and a soldier. In this peaceful service I imtactics, which opened a new field of study and obserbibed the rudiments of the language and science of vation. The discipline and evolutions of a modern battalion gave me a clearer notion of the phalanx and the legion; and the captain of the Hampshire grenathe historian of the Roman empire.'-Miscellaneous diers (the reader may smile) has not been useless to Works, vol. i., p. 136. * Parker's Domestic Architecture in England, 14th cent., p. 131. WILLIAM LILY. FEBRUARY 25. THE BOOK OF DAYS. St Victorinus, and six companions, martyrs, 284. St Cæsarius, physician of Constantinople, 369. St Walburge, virgin, of England, 779. St Tarasius, patriarch of Constantinople, 806. Born.-Germain de Saint Foix, 1703, Rennes. Died.-William Lilly, master of St Paul's School, London, 1523; Robert Earl of Essex, beheaded, 1600; Count Wallenstein, commander, assassinated, 1634, Eger; Frederick I. (of Prussia), 1713; Sir Christopher Wren, architect, 1723, St James's; Dr William Buchan, 1805, St Pancras; George Don, naturalist, 1856. WILLIAM LILY, THE GRAMMARIAN. COUNT WALLENSTEIN. lived sumptuously at his table, where never less than one hundred dishes were served. As he rewarded with excessive liberality, not only the multitude but the greatest personages were dazzled by this Asiatic splendour. Six gates gave entrance to his palace at Prague, to make room for which he had pulled down one hundred houses. Similar châteaux were erected by his orders on all his numerous estates. Twentyfour chamberlains, sprung from the most noble families, disputed the honour of serving him, and some sent back the golden key, emblem of their grade, to the Emperor, in order that they might wait on Wallenstein. He educated sixty pages, dressed in blue velvet and gold, to whom he gave the first masters; fifty trabants guarded his anteEras-chamber night and day; six barons and the same number of chevaliers were constantly within call His maître-d'hôtel was a to bear his orders. A thousand persons person of distinction. usually formed his household, and about one thousand horses filled his stables, where they fed from marble mangers. When he set out on his travels, a hundred carriages, drawn by four or six horses, conveyed his servants and baggage; sixty carriages and fifty led horses carried the people of his suite; ten trumpeters with silver bugles preceded the procession. The richness of his liveries, the pomp of his equipages, and the decoration of his apartments, were in harmony with all the rest. In a hall of his palace at Prague he had himself painted in a triumphal car, with a wreath of laurels round his head, and a star above him. This famous schoolmaster, the friend of mus and Sir Thomas More, was born at Odiham, Hants, about 1468; he was educated at Oxford University, and then travelled to the East, to acquire a knowledge of the Greek language. On his return to England he set up a private grammar-school, and was the first teacher of Greek in the metropolis. In 1512, Dean Colet, who had just founded St Paul's School, appointed Lily the first master. In the following year he produced his Grammar, which has probably passed through more editions than any work of its kind, and is used to this day in St Paul's School; the English rudiments were written by Colet, and the preface to the first edition by Cardinal Wolsey; the Latin syntax chiefly by Erasmus; and the remainder by Lily; the book being thus the joint production of four of the greatest scholars of the age. Lily held the mastership of St Paul's School for nearly twelve years; he died of the plague in London, and was buried in the north churchyard of St Paul's, within bow-shot of the school to whose early celebrity he had so essentially contributed. COUNT WALLENSTEIN. There is scarcely a personage in history of more awe-striking character than Count Wallenstein, the commander of the Emperor's armies in that struggle with Protestantism, the Thirty Years' War. Born of high rank in 1583, Wallenstein found himself at forty chief of the imperial armies, and the possessor of immense wealth. Concentrating a powerful mind on one object, the gratification of his ambition, he attained it to a remarkable degree, and was for some time beyond doubt the greatest subject in Europe. In managing troops by a merciless discipline, in making rapid marches, in the fiery energy of his attacks upon the enemy, he was unrivalled. In but one battle, that of Lutzen, where he met the Protestant army under Gustavus of Sweden, was he unsuccessful. The personality and habits of the man have been strikingly described by Michiels in his History of the Austrian Government. 'Wallenstein's immense riches, his profound reserve, and theatrical manners, were the principal means he employed to exalt the imagination of the masses. He always appeared in public surrounded by extraordinary pomp, and allowed all those attached to his house to share in his luxury. His officers His 'Wallenstein's appearance was enough in itself to inspire fear and respect. His tall thin figure, his haughty attitude, the stern expression of his pale face, his wide forehead, that seemed formed to command, his black hair, close-shorn and harsh, his little dark eyes, in which the flame of authority shone, his haughty and suspicious look, his thick moustaches and tufted beard, produced, at the first glance, a startling sensation. usual dress consisted of a justaucorps of elk skin, covered by a white doublet and cloak; round his neck he wore a Spanish ruff; in his hat fluttered a large red plume, while scarlet pantaloons and boots of Cordova leather, carefully padded on account of the gout, completed his ordinary attire. While his army devoted itself to pleasure, the deepest silence reigned around the general. He could not endure the rumbling of carts, loud conversations, or even simple sounds. One of his chamberlains was hanged for waking him without orders, and an officer secretly put to death because his spurs had clanked when he came to the general. His servants glided about the rooms like phantoms, and a dozen patrols incessantly moved round his tent or palace to maintain perpetual tranquillity. Chains were also stretched across the streets, in order to guard him against any sound. Wallenstein was ever absorbed in himself, ever engaged with his plans and designs. He was never seen to smile, and his pride rendered him inaccessible to sensual pleasures. His only fanaticism was ambition. This strange chief meditated and acted incessantly, only taking counsel of himself, and disdaining strange advice and inspirations. When he gave any orders or explanations, he could not bear to be looked at curiously; when he crossed the camp, the soldiers were obliged to pretend that they did not see him. Yet they experienced an involuntary shudder when they saw him pass like a supernatural being. There was something about him mysterious, solemn, and awe-inspiring. He walked alone, surrounded by this magic influence, like a saddening halo.' The end of Wallenstein was such as might have been anticipated. Becoming too formidable for a subject, he was denounced to the Emperor by Piccolomini, who obtained a commission to take the great general dead or alive. On the 25th of February 1634, he was assailed in the Castle of Eger by a band, in which were included one Gordon, a Scotsman, and one Butler, an Irishman, and fell under a single stroke of a partizan, dying in proud silence, as he had lived. DEATH OF SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. Wren's long and useful life, although protracted by activity and temperance much beyond the usual term of man's existence, was brought to a close by an accident. After his dismissal from the office of Surveyor-General, he occupied a town residence in St James's-street, Piccadilly, and continued to superintend the repairs of Westminster Abbey. He also rented from the Crown a house at Hampton Court, where he often retired, and there he passed the greater part of the last five years of his life in study and contemplation. On his last journey from Hampton Court to London, he contracted a cold, which accelerated his death. The good old man had, in his latter days, accustomed himself to sleep a short time after his dinner, and on the 25th of February 1723, his servant, thinking his master had slept longer than usual, went into his room, and found him dead in his chair. He was in his ninety-first year. The funeral of Wren was attended by an assemblage of honourable and distinguished personages, from his house in St James's-street to St Paul's Cathedral, where his remains were deposited in the crypt, adjoining to others of his family, in the recess of the south-eastern window, under the choir. His grave is covered with a black marble slab, with a short inscription in English; and on the western jamb of the window recess is a handsome tablet, with a Latin inscription written by the architect's son, Christopher, in which are the words, Lector, si monumentum quæris, circumspice,' which instruction, to 'look around,' has led to the conclusion that the tablet was intended for the body of the cathedral, where the public might read it. It is understood that the malice of the commissioners for rebuilding St Paul's pursued Wren beyond the grave, and condemned the explanatory epitaph to the crypt, where it could be read but by comparatively few persons. Many years afterwards, Mr Robert Mylne, architect, had a copy of the inscription placed over the marble screen to the choir, which has since been removed. Wren adorned London with no fewer than forty public buildings, but was the worst paid architect of whom we have any record: his DR BUCHAN. annual salary as architect of St Paul's was £200; and his pay for rebuilding the churches in the city was only £100 a year. DR BUCHAN AND HIS DOMESTIC MEDICINE.' Who has not heard of Buchan's Domestic Medicine, the medical Mentor, 'the guide, philosopher, and friend' of past generations, and scarcely yet superseded by Graham and Macaulay? This book, bearing on its title-page the epigraph, The knowledge of a disease is half its cure,' a sort of temptation to the reading of medical books in general, first appeared in 1769: it speedily obtained popularity by the plain and familiar style in which it is written; and no less than nineteen editions of the book, amounting to 80,000 copies, were sold during the author's life-time. Dr Buchan, who was born in Roxburghshire, in 1729, long enjoyed a good London practice as a physician. He lived many years at the house of his son, Dr Alexander Buchan, No. 6, Percystreet, Bedford-square; and there he died, at the age of seventy-six: he was buried in the west cloister of Westminster Abbey church. It was Buchan's practice to see patients at the Chapter Coffee-house, in Paternoster-row, where he usually might be found in the Wittenagemot,' a box in the north-east corner of the coffee-room. Though he was a high Tory, he heard the political discussions of the place with good humour, and commonly acted as a moderator, an office for which his fine physiognomy, and his venerable white hairs, highly qualified him. His son belonged to the same club or set, and though somewhat dogmatical, added to the variety and intelligence of the discussions, which, from the mixture of the company, were as various as the contents of a newspaper. Of this same Wittenagemot Dr George Fordyce and Dr Gower were also members; and it was very amusing to hear them in familiar chat with Dr Buchan. On subjects of medicine they seldom agreed, and when such were started, they generally laughed at one another's opinions. They liberally patronised Chapter punch, which always bore a high reputation in London. If any one complained of being indisposed, Buchan would exclaim, Now, let me prescribe for you. Here, John or Isaac, bring a glass of punch for Mrunless he likes brandy-and-water better. Take that, sir, and I'll warrant you'll soon be wellyou're a peg too low, you want stimulus; and if one glass won't do, call for a second.' The Domestic Medicine was written in Sheffield; and James Montgomery, in his Memoirs, relates the following particulars of the author: I remember seeing the old gentleman when I first went to London. He was of venerable aspect, neat in his dress, his hair tied behind with a large black ribbon, and a gold-headed cane in his hand, quite realizing my idea of an Esculapian dignitary.' Montgomery acknowledges that he never spoke to the Doctor, as he was quite out of his reach; but he looked upon him with respect, as a man who had published a book. In one of the Scottish editions of Buchan, there was an astounding misprint, in which a |