According to Roger North, Charles II. loved no music but of the dancing kind, and put down all advocates for the fugal style of composition, with the question, “Have I not ears?” A band of twenty-four violins who merrily accompanied his meals, and enlivened his devotions in the Chapel Royal, suggested the comic song, “Four and twenty fiddlers all of a row,” which has lasted to the present day. Evelyn was greatly shocked when in December 1662, at the conclusion of the sermon, “instead of the ancient grave and solemn wind music accompanying the organ, was introduced a concert of twenty-four violins, between every pause, after the French fantastical light style; better suiting a tavern, or playhouse, than a church.” It would seem, too, the King’s predilection for French fiddlers formed part of his anti-national tendency, and was carried so far that John Banister, who had been leader of the twenty-four, was dismissed for saying, on his return from Paris, that the English violins were better than the French. These anti-national propensities of Charles II. brought into fashion that kind of music which had constantly been appreciated by the masses--the music of the old ballads and songs. The dislike of all compositions to which he could not beat time led him to appreciate the common English airs, to which the poets of the people had written their words, as well as the dance music imported from France.[162] To church music George III. was always very attached, showing skill in it both as a critic and performer. “Many stories,” says Thackeray,[163] “mirthful and affecting, are told of his behaviour at the concerts which he ordered. When he was blind and ill he chose the music for the Ancient Concerts once, and the music and words which he selected were from ‘Samson Agonistes,’ and all had reference to his blindness, his captivity, and his affliction. He would beat time with his music-roll as they sang the anthem in the Chapel Royal. If the page below was talkative, or inattentive, down would come the music-roll on young Scapegrace’s powdered head.” It would seem that his Majesty was not content simply to be a listener, but he found additional pleasure in taking an active part in musical performances. And one day in the year when George loved to attend St. Paul’s was on “Charity Children’s Day,” to listen to “500 children sing the hymn which makes every heart thrill with praise and happiness.”