The moment that Handel flung down his cumbrous sceptre it was eagerly snatched up by the Earl of Middlesex. Very little is extant regarding this nobleman, beyond the fact that he was manager of the Opera from the autumn of 1741 to the spring of 1748, and that he had not, apparently, been endowed, either by nature or education, with the qualities requisite to form an able director.

His lordship engaged the theatre in the Haymarket, and an almost entirely new band of singers from the Continent. He enlisted also the services of Galuppi, then a very young man. Galuppi was more frequently called Il Buranello, from the little Venetian island where he was born. When eighteen, he had produced, at Venice, an opera which had failed; but in nowise discouraged, he studied hard, and went on undauntedly until he turned the tide of fortune in his favour.

After the fashion of the time, the singers chose their own songs, from the popular compositions of the day, by Leo, Hasse, Areno, Pescetti, Lampugnani, Domenico Scarlatti; and these were 'interwoven' by Galuppi in a pasticcio called 'Alessandro in Persia.' This piece had been originally written for Lucca, some three years previously, by the Abate Francesco Vaneschi, when it was set by Paradies. The nephew of the priestly poet being in London at the time that the Earl of Middlesex's operatic reign began, was employed by him first as poet, and subsequently as assistant manager. Twelve years later, 'upon his lordship's abdication he assumed the Sovereignty of the opera state,' to use Burney's pithy words.

The Opera opened October 31, 1741, with Alessandro in Persia,' which was represented twelve nights. The singers were Monticelli, Andreoni, Amorevoli, Signora Visconti, Signora Panichi, and Signora Tedeschi. They were all good, but not sufficiently so to insure a great success for the opera season. Angelo Maria Monticelli, the most remarkable of the men, appeared first on the stage at Rome, just ten years before he came to London. He was

so graceful, and had such a perfectly beautiful face and figure, that he commenced his career by impersonating female characters, women not being permitted to go on the stage in Rome. His voice was clear, soft, and free from defects of any kind. He never hazarded a difficulty which he was not certain of being able to execute. He was an excellent actor; and had he not come while the remembrance of the magnificent talents of Farinelli, the exquisite voice and majestic grace of Senesino, and the brilliant performance and statuesque beauty of Nicolini were fresh in the public mind, he would have made a profound impression. The Visconti had a shrill flexible voice, and was more admired in rapid songs than in those requiring pathos or intensity of expression. Her excessive fat afforded ample opportunity for sarcasm and joking to the wits of the day. Lord Chesterfield was with a group of friends on one occasion when they were speaking of this prima donna; they were guessing her age, and one gentleman, supposing her to be much younger than any other singer at the Opera, said he thought she was not more than two-and-twenty. 'You mean stone, sir, not years?' interrupted Lord Chesterfield.

Galuppi was enabled to give a more satisfactory idea of his capacity as an original composer in an opera called 'Penelope,' written expressly for our stage by Paolo Rolli, who had written a great deal in conjunction with Handel, and who was an admired librettist. This work was dedicated to the noble impresario, Lord Middlesex. At this time, being young, Galuppi's genius was not matured, and he copied the hasty, light, and flimsy style which was the fashion in Italy, and' which the solidity and science of Handel had taught the English to despise. This opera was performed only five times, 'and in examining the pieces that were printed by Walsh,' says Dr. Burney, 'it seems not to have been unjustly treated.'

In the following March (1742), another new opera was produced, entitled 'Scipione in Carthagina." The greater number of operas in the

eighteenth century were founded on classical or mythological subjects; Didone, Phaëton, Nero, Antigone, Semiramide, Artaserse, Zenobia, Perseus, were the personages round whom the plots of the operatic pieces were linked; and these personages always appeared in all the radiance of hoops, powdered wigs, red heels, silk stockings, paste buckles, and patches. Signor Amiconi, an Italian artist of considerable talent, was the scene-painter at the King's Theatre at this time. His scenes were greatly admired, and it was acknowledged that nothing so splendid had been seen in England before his advent. Music, singing, and painting were what Lord Middlesex depended on for success, as he had no dancers. The opera of 'Scipione was followed by several pieces, the composition of Pergolese, Hesse, and other musicians, none of which pleased, and which were generally performed only three or four times. One of Porpora's operas, Temistocle,' was produced in the February of 1743, for the first time in England. It was full of shakes, for which the maestro had an extraordinary fancy; and one of the airs ('Contrasto assai') suggests the idea of having been composed in a shivering fit. The singers were the same as in the two preceding seasons, with the exception of some inferior performers, the most noticeable of whom was Giulia Frasi. This singer was then young, and interesting in person, with a sweet, clear voice, and a cold, smooth style, which was just good enough to enable her to escape cen

sure.

At the close of 1743, Galuppi returned to Italy. He was succeeded by Lampugnani, a new composer, and a very young man. Lampugnani was an agreeable composer, and wrote in a gay, lively style. Critics have expressed various opinions of his merits, agreeing only in condemning his works as flimsy. He imitated the style of Hasse in his airs and choruses. The first piece which he brought out in London was 'Roxana,' which was followed in January by Alfonso.' Both these operas had a graceful gaiety of imagination, and evidenced an elegant

taste, peculiarly novel in their day, but lacking grandeur and richness of harmony.

Veracini then led the band. He had taken the place of conductor alternately with Festing, from the time that Pietro Castrucci was dismissed. Castrucci had come to England with Lord Burlington in 1715, and was one of the most eccentric men that ever lived: he was, in truth, regarded as little less than mad, although he was a brilliant performer on the violin. He had succeeded Corbett as first violin at the Opera, about 1718, and led the orchestra for many years. When he grew old, Handel wished to displace him for a younger man, John Clegg. Castrucci, who was in needy circumstances, and not in the least conscious of any failure in his hand, was unwilling to relinquish his post, when Handel, in order to convince him of his inability to occupy it, composed a concerto in which the second concertino was so arranged as to demand an equal degree of skill with the first; the second concertino he gave to Clegg, who, when the piece was being performed, afforded such proofs of his superiority, that poor Castrucci was forced to yield up his place, not to Clegg, however, but to Festing, another member of the orchestra. Castrucci detested the very name of Festing from that time; he would grow nearly insane on hearing it. A gentleman, for fun, used to address him in conversation by the name of his rival, Mr. Festing-I beg your pardon, Mr. Castrucci, I mean;' when Castrucci would fall into a perfect paroxysm of rage. Old, poor, and half silly, Castrucci immediately sank into oblivion, and at the age of eighty was obliged to supplicate the public for a benefit, on the score of his past services. Soon after this he died. It is Castrucci who is immortalized by Hogarth in his celebrated picture of the Enraged Musician.' Hogarth, previous to making his drawing, was cruel enough to collect all the noisiest street musicians and hawkers he could find, and beset the house of the poor Italian, bringing him to the window in a state of distraction

humble and timid that he was never happy save in obscurity; whereas Veracini could not be content unless he was in the full glow of public homage. A story is told of him, which gives such a happy illustration of his character, that, although the incident did not occur in England, it may be mentioned. It was the custom at Lucca, during the Festa della Croce (held every year on the 14th of September), for the leading professionals of Italy, vocal and instrumental, to meet. Veracini put down his name for a solo concerto; but when he entered the church where the performance was to take place, he found the post of

honour occupied by Padre Girolamo Laurentii of Bologna, who, not knowing him, as Veracini had been absent some years in Poland, asked him 'where he was going?' 'To the place of first violin,' answered Veracini, haughtily. Laurentii then said that he had always been engaged to fill that post, but that if Veracini wished to play a concerto, either at vespers or during high mass, he should have a place assigned him. Veracini, without condescending to reply, wrathfully turned his back, and went to the lowest seat in the orchestra. In that part of the service in which Laurentii performed his concerto, Veracini did not play

a note, though he listened with profound attention; and being called upon, would not play a concerto, but asked the old father permission to play a solo at the bottom of the choir, desiring Lanzelli, the violoncellist of Turin, to accompany him: when he played it in such a manner as to excite the most extraordinary enthusiasm and cries of 'E viva!' in the public church. Whenever he was about to make a close, he turned to Laurentii, with an ironical smile, and called out, Cosi si suona per fare il primo violini !'

This is the way to play the first fiddle' Many absurd stories of a similar nature are related concerning the arrogance of this eminent violinist, who was usually complimented with the title 'Capo pazzo' (Crack-brain). He had travelled all over Europe, and gained a perfectly original style. The peculiarities in his performance were his bow-hand, his learned arpeggios, and a tone so loud and clear that it could be distinguished through the most numerous band in a church or theatre. He had been for some years in the service of the King of Poland, and was for a considerable time at different courts of Germany. He had visited England when Farinelli was here, when he had composed several operas. Burney heard him lead the band at a concert in Hickford's Room, in a style he had never before witnessed.

Veracini composed an opera, 'Roselinda,' which Lord Middlesex produced after the eighth performance of Alfonso.' The music, wild, awkward, and unpleasant as it was, carried this work through twelve nights. As a composer, he had a certain degree of whim and caprice; but his freaks were built on a good foundation. He then composed another opera-'L'Errore di Solomone' which was represented only twice; and Aristodemo,' a pasticcio. This was succeeded by another opera (Alceste') by Lampugnani, which concluded the season.

Festing, who led the orchestra alternately with Veracini during Lord Middlesex's management, was a German violinist, and composed for his instrument. He was a pupil of Ge

miniani. His works are little known, having been originally sold by private subscription. To Festing belongs the principal merit of establishing the fund for the support of decayed musicians and their families. This society was founded in 1738, and took its rise from an affecting incident. Festing was seated one day at the window of the Orange coffee-house, situate at the corner of the Haymarket, when he noticed a very intelligent-looking boy, driving an ass and selling brickdust. The child was in rags, a miserable object: Festing made inquiries, and discovered that he was the son of an unfortunate musician. Filled with the deepest grief that the child of a brother professional could be reduced to such destitution, Festing determined to spare no effort to rescue the unhappy little vagrant. He consulted his friend Dr. Morice Green; and these worthy men soon succeeded in establishing a fund towards the support of decayed musicians and their families. Han

del took a great interest in the society: he gave a benefit for it in 1739, when 'Alexander's Feast' was performed, and he not only gave the house gratis, but composed and played a new concerto. Heidegger made a present of twenty pounds to defray incidental expenses on this

occasion.

Handel, finding the theatre in the Haymarket unoccupied in November, 1744, engaged it for the performance of oratorios, which he began November 3, and continued, with heavy loss, till the 23rd of April, 1745.

Soon after this, Veracini quitted England. He was shipwrecked, and lost all his effects, including his two Steiners, esteemed the best in the world. In his usual light way, he called one of these instruments St. Peter and the other St. Paul.

The rebellion in 1745 caused the Opera-house to be shut up. A popular prejudice existed against the performers, who, being foreigners, were chiefly Roman Catholics. An Opera was opened, April 7th, at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket, under the direction of Francesco Geminiani. Prince Lobkowitz, who

was at this time in London, and who was passionately fond of music, attended all the rehearsals, with the celebrated and mysterious Count Germain. Pasquali led; and I remember,' says Dr. Burney, ‘at a rehearsal, Geminiani taking the violin out of his hands, to give him the style and expression of the symphony to a song, which had been mistaken when first led off. And this was the first time I ever saw or heard Geminiani.' The opera was a pasticcio, called 'L'Incostanza Delusa.' Signora Frasi, and Signora Galli- -a bold, masculine-looking woman, who performed the first male part-were the principal singers. Count St. Germain composed several new songs for the piece, one of which, 'Per pietà bell' idol mio,' sung by Signora Frasi, was encored every night.

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Geminiani-a little man, about sixty-five, with a pleasing face, sallow complexion, black eyebrows, and always dressed in blue velvet richly embroidered with gold. was perhaps one of the most singular personages ever heard of in musical history. He was a native of Lucca, and had come to England in 1714; in a short time he had become known to a large circle of amateurs, who were captivated by his exquisite performance, remarkable more particularly for tenderness and pathos. Many noblemen desired to have the honour of being his patron; but he seemed to attach himself most closely to the Baron Kilmansegge, who had been chamberlain to George the First when Elector of Hanover. In 1716 Geminiani published and dedicated to the Baron twelve solos for the violin. His patrons and pupils were so delighted with this work, that they averred it was impossible to decide whether Geminiani was more to be admired as a skilful performer or a fine composer. With a due attention to himself,' observes Hawkins, 'there is no saying to what degree he might have availed himself of that favour which his merits had found in this country.' Baron Kilmansegge was so impressed with respect for his abilities, that he endeavoured to obtain for him the patronage of the

King. He mentioned Geminiani to his Majesty, as an exquisite performer, and the author of a work, which he placed before the King, who looked over it, and was so pleased with the music that he expressed a wish to hear some of the pieces performed by the composer. The Baron immediately communicated the King's pleasure to Geminiani. The eminent violinist, though glad to obey such a command, told the Baron that he should like to be accompanied on the harpsichord by Mr. Handel, as no one else could play to satisfy him. Baron Kilmansegge, anxious to give his protégé every advantage, respectfully intimated this wish to the King, who ordered that both masters should attend at St. James's. The Baron was very much pleased by this, for he had been watching for an opportunity to reinstate Handel in the King's good graces ever since the performance of the celebrated Water Music, when his Majesty had slightly relented towards his former favourite. The two musicians attended at the palace, when Geminiani justified the praises which had been lavished on him by his kindhearted friend, and Handel succeeded so far in allaying the anger of King George that he obtained a pension of two hundred a year, in addition to one for the same amount which had been settled on him by Queen Anne. Geminiani was obliged to rely for his income on the bountiful patronage of his friends among the nobility, and the presents and the profits which he gained by teaching, being, fortunately for himself, held in such esteem that he always fixed his own terms. He was seldom heard in public during his long residence in England. He was never engaged to conduct at the Opera, because, from some curious lack of steadiness, and from being so wild and careless a timist, he threw a band into the utmost confusion whenever he attempted to direct. The absorbing passion of his life was painting. To indulge his enthusiastic love for pictures, he neglected his proper studies and the exercise of his talents, involving himself in straits and difficulties