The principal performers were Mesdames Ackté, Donalda, Ada Forrest, Carrie Tubb, Clara Butt, Muriel Foster, Doris Woodall, Messrs. Gervase Elwes, John McCormack, Thorpe Bates, Wilfrid Douthitt, Herbert Heyner, Clarence Whitehill, Herr Moriz Rozenthal (pianoforte), Señor Pablo Casals (violoncello).

The band consisted of twenty first violins, led by Maurice Sons, sixteen second violins, twelve violas, twelve 'cellos, nine double-basses, nine flutes, one piccolo, ten oboes, two oboi d'amore, two oboi da caccia, heckelphone, two cors Anglais, seven clarinets, nine bassoons, eight horns, one tenor tuba, seven trumpets, four trombones, and thirteen other players-percussion, harp, &c., including a 'wind

machine.'

The choir consisted of ninety-four sopranos, eighty-five altos, eighty-three tenors, and eighty-nine basses; total, 351. By general consent it was pronounced to be one of the finest Festival choirs ever assembled in this country. The tasks, physical and musical, the choralists had to face were extraordinarily arduous, but almost throughout they were equal to all demands. It was only at the last concert of the series that they betrayed symptoms of fatigue. The excellence of the choral technique displayed must in justice be ascribed mainly to the industry, skill, and unique experience of the chorusmaster, Mr. R. H. Wilson, whose name was not recorded in the daily programmes because, we presume, he was not a performer-only a Bunty behind the scenes. To Mr. Wilson's achievements in providing a plastic instrument were added those of Sir Henry Wood, who here, as in every other department of his wonderful activity, brought to bear his genius for taking pains and his indomitable will-power in securing his own interpretations.

Sir Henry Wood was the general conductor for the first time at this Festival. Sir Edward Elgar, Mr. Granville Bantock, Dr. H. Walford Davies, and Mr. Sibelius conducted their own works.

The performance of 'Elijah' with which the Festival opened was one to remember. The choir poured out a magnificent stream of sound, displayed the precision of a military band, and in other ways showed their responsiveness to the ideas of their conductor-ideas not always in consonance with tradition and not without a suspicion of a desire to exhibit virtuosity at all costs. But it must be admitted that the oratorio lends itself to the personal factor more than do the older masterpieces of this class. Mr. Whitehill, as Elijah, gave a highly dramatic interpretation of the part. The other chief soloists were Miss Forrest, Madame Butt, and Mr. McCormack.

At the evening concert the programme was a miscellaneous one. It included two of the most striking novelties produced at the Festival, the new choral cantata, The Music Makers,' by Sir Edward Elgar, and the new Symphony (No. 4, in A minor) by Jean Sibelius, both works being conducted by their respective composers. As in our September issue (pp. 566-570) we gave a full analysis of The Music Makers,' it will not be necessary to refer here in detail to the beautiful poetic basis of the work supplied by the late Arthur O'Shaughnessy. The performance was a remarkably fine one, and revealed most if not all the subtle and suggestive charm of the music. The probable effect of the quotations from the composer's former works was a matter of curiosity for some listeners who, previous to the performance, harboured a feeling that mayhap the tracing of the quotations and the recollection of their former association might distract attention from their present application. But it turned out quite otherwise, for the leitmotives are so ingeniously and naturally dovetailed into their environment as never to obtrude, and they always seem to fit the situation to a nicety. The climaxes are in places tremendous. One of the most exciting is that to the words Trample a kingdom down,' which is almost terrible in its savage intensity. A beautiful choral section ensues to the words:

We, in the ages lying

In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself in our mirth;

In the climax of this section the whole-tone scale is employed with a weird effect. No other choral music that Elgar has

written has risen to finer penetration or expression than that set to the words : A breath of our inspiration

Is the life of each generation.

The orchestral parts here are supremely beautiful. The contralto solo, especially as sung by Miss Muriel Foster, who is a past-master in the interpretation of Elgar's music, gave a needed note of personal intimacy to the unfolding of the poet's fancy. The solo is soonalmost too soon-concerted with the chorus, but it continues to interest. It leads to one of the most remarkable harmonic devices to be found in the whole work (p. 53, vocal score), and the passage also illustrates the composer's occasional tendency to secure effects by sequences, in this instance of the boldest description. One of the most striking passages are afar in the work is that set to the words, For we The tonal and rhythmic means employed here are simple, but with the dawning,' And the suns that are not yet high.' the effect is large, expansive, grand. The most important section for the soloist occurs near the end of the work. Here for seventy or more bars the singer delivers the fine appeal of the poet to posterity in the last stanza of the poem : Great hail! we cry to the comers

From the dazzling unknown shore ;
Bring us hither your sun and summers,
And renew our world as of yore;
You shall teach us your song's new numbers,
And things that we dreamed yet before:
Yea, in spite of a dreamer who slumbers,

And a singer who sings no more.

The introduction of the 'Novissima hora' theme at this stage is wonderfully eloquent and searching. After this the music glides like a fleecy cloud to its extinction; the transition from sound to silence is almost imperceptible.

The only other general criticism of the performance we are disposed to make is that the orchestration in places was overpowering, and could not be balanced by the choir.

Sibelius's Symphony brought us into another world—one with which most of us are so unfamiliar that we stumbled in our endeavour to understand. The idiom of the music and its form-with ends that did not seem to finish-left one in bewilderment. Mrs. Newmarch, who knows more of Sibelius's music than most people, says that "The fourth Symphony, like the earlier ones, is music of an intimate nature, and much of it was thought out and written in the isolation of hoary forests, by rushing rapids, or wind-la-hed lakes. There are moments when we feel ourselves alone with Nature's breathing things.'

The work is in four movements: I. Tempo molto moderate quasi adagio; II. Allegro molto vivace; III. Il tempo largo ; IV. Allegro.

It is impossible here to discuss the new work, especially as we feel obliged to state frankly that we do not at present understand it sufficiently, which is a way of confessing that the limitations are our own. But we may say that, after hearing rehearsals as well as the performance, the work grew in interest, and we shall be prepared to rank ourselves with its admirers when we are more familiarwith its peculiar mode of expressing temperament. The other items in the scheme were two Overtures, the 'Brandenburg' and the Liszt concertos, Mad Bess' (Purcell), magnificently declaimed by Miss Foster, and the clever but frightfully noisy Humoreske on Themes of Johann Strauss,' played by Moriz Rosenthal. At the morning performance on October 2, Bach's St. Matthew' Passion was given. It was a deeply engrossing interpretation, at one time fulfilling the highest ideals and at another inducing disappointment and distress. preparation of the great work was marked by that meticulous care that distinguishes all Sir Henry Wood's enthusiasms. The oboi d'amore and the oboe da caccia in the solos, perfectly played, as were also the two solo flutes, were always a fascination to the ear. The choruses were splendidly sung. Never before have we heard "Have lightnings and thunders' performed with such tremendous effect. Mr. Elwes (the Evangelist) was always adequate, Mr. Douthitt (Jesu) sang well, but yet with not

The

sufficient restraint and dignity. Madame Donalda, placed with Miss Foster at the back of the orchestra, was unable to catch the pitch, and some of the other solo singers were not wholly satisfactory. Miss Foster's singing of the Aria, 'Have mercy, Lord' (No. 47), and Mr. Maurice Sons's playing of the violin obbligati, were things to cherish in the memory. The singing of some of the chorales by the choir of fifty boys was admirable, their voices always standing out as a beautiful distinctive colour. A disturbing factor was the 'expression' which distorted the lines of beauty in the four-part chorales. The idea of treating them as part-songs with verbal points to be emphasised has been discussed before and deprecated, but without effect. So one must perforce accept the sun as with all its defects of spots!

Dr. H. Walford Davies's 'Song of Saint Francis,' for soli, chorus, and orchestra, was performed on the evening of October 2. Report beforehand spoke highly of the work, and it is gratifying to record that the performance confirmed the forecast of its high artistic value. There are ten numbers, each of which is rounded off by a tonic cadence, and can be performed separately. The Song' is stated to yield Praises of the Lord, as concerning His creatures.' In turn, the Sun, the Moon and Stars, the Wind and the Air, Water, Fire, Sister Earth, Our Mother, Them that forgive for the love of God, Sister Death, all are personified and praised. The naïve beauty of the poem and its varied appeal are suggestive of music.

It must suffice at present to say that the new cantata exhibits a marked advance in the composer's command of fluent invention and power to write picturesquely. The opening number is imposing and gravely beautiful, and withal maintains the tranquil joy of strong faith. The second movement (Moon and the Stars) has much to charm, the third movement (Wind and the Air) seems rather obviously descriptive; that of Sister Water is very well conceived. The 'Fire' movement did not move us so much, although it has great vitality. Sister Earth, which is admirably treated as a tenor solo, formed an effective relief. Them that forgive,' for soprano solo and chorus, is a chaste and devotional item that might very well be used as a separate anthem in 'quires and places where they sing.' Sister Death is written for soli tenor and bass. Its peculiar atmosphere recalls 'Everyman'; the ending in the major key maintains almost breathless attention. The final number, in which all the soloists unite with the chorus, leads up to a powerful climax, and then gradually dies away in the softest of pianissimos. The work as a whole was one of the successes of the Festival. Surely it will be heard again, soon!

At the same concert the eagerly-expected first performance of Mr. Granville Bantock's orchestral drama, 'Fifine at the Fair,' was given under the direction of the composer. As we have already stated in the Musical Times, the drama illustrated is that more or less clearly unfolded in Browning's celebrated poem, which is the monologue of a man who himself relates his fall to the attractions of the girl Fifine, a dancer at a fair, notwithstanding his deep regard for his wife Elvire, who is a model of purity and stedfastness. Without going more deeply into an intricate line of thought, these three characters and the events that happen have given Mr. Bantock poetic and dramatic basis for his music. An imaginative analyst of the poem and of the music could, no doubt, discover more things in both than were dreamt of in the philosophy of either the poet or the musician. The ordinary listener, however, who does not want to take his music very seriously and to listen to it with a wet towel round his head, can find ample scope for frank enjoyment in Mr. Bantock's suggestive imagery, lucid melody, and brilliant orchestration.

The music follows the line of the poem in beginning with the Amphibian who, indolently floating on the sea, is provoked to wonderful reflections by the appearance of a stray butterfly. Whatever the significance of this incident may happen to be, it has enabled the composer to give us some delightful music for strings only, divided into twentyfour parts, and we have a charming butterfly represented by wisps from a solo violin. Then begins the real story, the visit of the husband-a Don Juan with a nonconformist sort of conscience-and wife (Elvire) to the fair, the appearance of Fifine, the fascination of the man, and the moral of it all. We have leitmotives associated with Elvire, some realistic fun of the fair, noisy, rollicking, and obstreperous, the charming

dance in which Fifine displays her saltatory seductions, the passion beyond control of the man, the subsequent remorse, and the glorification of the constant Elvire.

The Epilogue in the poem, whatever its true significance may be, suggests ultimate relief from storm and stress, and this is finely reflected in the music by a serene and beautiful ending. A feature of the instrumentation is the prominent solo employment of the clarinet. A brilliant and elaborate Cadenza enabled Mr. Charles Draper to display his skill and the capacity of the instrument. The verdict of the public on the whole work was unmistakable. To them, at least, it was a sane and comprehensible contribution.

The Don Quixote' Variations excited quite as much amusement by their occasional realism as they did pleasure. The playing of Casals in this work was an unalloyed satisfaction.

The performance of the Messiah,' on the morning of October 3, had many fine moments, but the extraordinary license Sir Henry allowed himself in the treatment of some of the choruses was again a disturbing and distressing circumstance. In another column we give detailed particulars of the performance (see p. 726).

The performance of the Manzoni Requiem' (Verdi) was made remarkable by the energy and occasional tremendous resonance of the choral singing. and the speciality of Madame Aino Ackté's style of performance. This gifted lady does not always sing with a beautiful quality of voice, but she identifies her interpretation so intensely with the import of the words and their musical expression, that she rivets attention. Her monotoning of the prayer at the end was a thrilling climax of intensity. The other singers were Miss Muriel Foster, Mr. McCormack, and Mr. Whitehill, all of whom were well-equipped for the work.

Delius's Sea-Drift' elicited various opinions. It has now been fairly often performed in this country-sometimes well and sometimes badly. For our part we see no reason to alter the feeling we have held from the first, that the work is simply beautiful. The idiom used is strange; its colouring is of the subtlest. The resources brought to bear on its performance at Birmingham were too great. The composer does not employ the full orchestra all through, and he does not want the full choir all through. The new choralism' as represented in this work demands a more artistic use of the choral material. Mr. Thorpe Bates sang the bass solopart with rare insight and temperament.

At the morning concert, on the fourth day, the 'German Requiem' of Brahms was given. The performance was often deeply impressive, yet it missed some of the mighty grief of the more poignant passages. More success attended the exultant moods of the work. Miss Carrie Tubb and Mr. Thorpe Bates were highly efficient.

The second part of the concert began with an extraordinary contrast to the morning's proceedings. It is a far cry from a Requiem to Strauss's Dance of the Seven Veils' and the closing scene of Salome.' But lunch had intervened, and the audience after all were ready to waive any feelings of incongruity they may have entertained. They were rewarded with one of the greatest sensations of the Festival. The orchestra was magnificent, and Madame Ackté held the audience spellbound by the powerful realism of her passion. After this fever the Beethoven Symphony in A was especially comforting to many minds, and this impression of a sane world was maintained by Mr. Perkins's excellent organ playing of the Bach 'Choral Vorspiel' and by the singing of the unaccompanied motet 'Be not afraid,' which finely showed off the resources of the choir and its high training.

The Festival was brought to a worthy conclusion by a performance of Elgar's oratorio 'The Apostles,' given under the direction of the composer. It was in some respects a disadvantage to all concerned that this noble work was presented as the last item in a series of arduous performances that were preceded, it must be remembered, by still more exacting rehearsals. That the choir under these circumstances betrayed some tendency to faulty intonation, is more a matter for regret than surprise. But otherwise the performance was satisfactory. The soloists were Madame Donalda, Miss Muriel Foster, who again gave us cause for congratulation that she has returned to the concert-platform, Mr. Gervase Elwes, Mr. Henry Heyner, Mr. Wilfrid Douthitt, and Mr. Thorpe Bates. The last-named singer again greatly distinguished himself.

The whole receipts of the Festival were about £10,000, being a few hundred pounds less than was received at the 1909 Festival. Up to the time of going to Press we have not heard particulars as to the net financial result. Whatever this may be, it is a satisfaction to record that the artistic result of the 1912 Festival was equal to that attained at the best of its predecessors.

The Festival was began in 1768. Dr. Richter preceded Sir Henry Wood as conductor, and on previous occasions the office was held by Sir Michael Costa.

'THE MESSIAH.'

In our notice of this Festival, given above, we reserve comments on the performance of The Messiah' for special treatment. We now give details of the chief points of the performance.

No. 2, Comfort ye' (sung by Mr. Gervase Elwes). The playing of the staccato' accompaniment was a feature. It was not, as it so often is, an intrusively pronounced staccato, but one just insinuated, and it was performed with unity of attack. At the 22nd bar, instead of the customary version shown at (a)

Ex. I.

war

(a)

At the first climax on the word 'wonderful,' the pace was reduced to about M. 48, the former tempo being resumed as the altos emerged at Unto us a Child is born.' At the second climax the pace was again brought down to M. 48, and the faster pace resumed when the tenors emerged. This process of variation was renewed at the third climax. Then the basses were led off at a faster pace than ever, M. 80 to 84, and at the fourth climax the slow pace was resumed. final choral phrase, 'The Everlasting Father! the Prince of Peace,' was taken accelerando until it reached an exciting pace, and the whole number ended in a feverish glow.

The

No. 13, Pastoral Symphony. The first time' sounded unusually thick as instrumentation, and it failed to interest.

On the piano repeat the music was 'cinematographed' with vibrato. On the whole an effective but not an expressive performance.

The Recits. 14, 15, 16, 'There were shepherds,' &c., were somewhat dramatically treated, but they were finely expressive. The orchestra played superbly.

'And suddenly there was with the Angel' was taken at a great pace = M. 160. It became very jubilant, and having been thus worked up No. 17, 'Glory to God,' was begun p an anticlimax! The pace at the opening was sober and regular, and the choral technique displayed was excellent. Some crescendos and diminuendos served to show off the choir if they did not show off Handel. At the 18th bar the

(b)

No. 9, O thou that tellest.' Very finely sung by Madame Butt at about =M. 150, the vocalisation being particularly pure and flowing. Some of the runs were broken for breath. The vowel in God' seemed difficult to define on the low C and B. The chorus was taken at an almost frantic pace-M. 168. It was an impetuous rush, and for one at least of the audience the charm of this chorus was obscured. No. 10, For behold.' A deeply impressive performance, not only by Mr. Whitehill but by the orchestra. The usual ff effects at bars 11 and 20 were omitted. No. 11, The people that walked.' Some considerable variations of tempo and some unusual instrumentation.

pace being increased. At the 26th bar, where the original theme of the opening bars is repeated, all the resources of choir and orchestra were lashed up to a tremendous f climax, and the pace, especially for the band, became frantic.

At bar 33, where the imitation is resumed, the pace was again increased and was made accelerando to the pp end of the choral part. Did anyone in the hall derive satisfaction from this lurid treatment of a beautiful and dignified chorus? The present writer heard only words of regret. No. 21, His yoke is easy' (omitted).

6

No. 22, Behold the Lamb of God.' The massive grandeur of this chorus was undisturbed by new 'interpretation.' Pace about M. 64. At the sixth bar from the end there was a great forte, which was followed by a sudden piano in the next bar. It was difficult to see what was 'expressed' by this vivid dynamic contrast.

No. 23, 'He was despised.' Only the first part was performed. Here Madame Butt sang with simplicity and dignity, and the accompaniments were played with the utmost delicacy and beauty. The instrumental interludes -about the performance of which elsewhere we wrote in our October number (p. 666)—were always treated tenderly and sympathetically.

No. 24, Surely He hath borne our griefs,' was taken rather faster than usual (about M. 84). The pace was

slackened at bars 18, 19, and here there was a diminuendo. At the chastisement' the tempo primo was resumed, and some sforzando emphasis was imported that was intrusive. The chorus ended with the customary diminuendo.

No. 25, And with his stripes' (omitted).

No. 25, 'All we like sheep.' This was formally and, from the technical standpoint, splendidly sung. At the 62nd bar the emphatic sforzando accents on every syllable

We have turn-ed ev raised a smile, but had no other effect. It is of course true that the chorus is an arrangement of a duet from one of Handel's earlier works. The Adagio Coda by which Handel so gloriously redeemed the chorus from triviality was sung with gorgeous tone, if with no mood colour.

= about M. 84. The 'treatment' began at the end of the bass announcement of the subject, the cadence being pulled out rallentando. This happened again at the end of the tenor answer and the alto re-statement. But the idea was abandoned at the treble cadence, probably because of the contrapuntal texture. The exposition being completed, the pace was now increased to M. 96, and at the 23rd bar, where the alto resumes the subject, the pace was M. 100, and this was maintained until the Adagio was reached. At the Adagio the orchestra was turned on at the main,' the timpani becoming a specially obstreperous feature, through which we could still hear that the choir were singing for all they were worth.

No. 33, 'Lift up your heads.' The first pace was excellent, M. 88. The sopranos and altos sang with beautifully blended tone and attractive precision, and all the opening section until the ordinary four-part chorus enters (bar 33) was everything we could desire. Then at bar 34, 'He is the King of Glory,' the pace was suddenly increased to M. 100. A dozen bars later it became hectic and not controlled; the texture of the counterpoint became obscure. A stringendo then brought the pace at bar 54 to M. 108, and at bar 63 it became even faster, with the result that in the rush the splendour of the rolling, florid counterpoint at bars 69 and 70 was not revealed. This full speed ahead' was relentlessly maintained to the end. After this, one needed breathing time, and the lunch interval was welcome. Nos. 34 to 39 inclusive were omitted, and the performance was resumed with

No. 40, Why do the nations,' which served to exhibit Mr. Whitehill's splendid voice and style.

No. 41, 'Let us break.' This was excellent in choral technique and tone. At bars 24, 25, and later at bars 35 to 38, there were some delicate tip-toe piano effects which had a sort of confidential expression that sounded odd in this connection.

No. 44, Hallelujah Chorus.' The interpretation of this great masterpiece excited much comment, but, so far as we could gather, little or no difference of opinion.

6

The opening pace was stately, and the jubialnt expression was well controlled. Then at the unison delivery of the theme 'for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth,' the pace was suddenly brought down to M. 48, the intervening 'Hallelujahs' resuming the quicker pace. Another pull up occurred where the tenors and basses have this theme in unison, the other parts filling in their interjectory Hallelujahs' as well as they could. Later, the pace was quickened until the cadence at bar 32. There was confusion at bar 31. At bar 34. The Kingdom of this world' was sung piano and adagio with the usual burst of forte, a little increased on this occasion to double ff at the Kingdom of our Lord,' the pace here being about M. 46. At the fugal subject, announced by the basses (bar 41), the pace was suddenly increased to M. 96. At bar 51, the beginning of the building up of the great climax, the iterated notes to the King of kings' and later and Lord of lords' were always sung very slowly and the succeeding 'Hallelujahs' very quickly.

The marked variations of tempi were continued until bar 69, where the bass leads off the subject, and here the tempo was suddenly increased to about M. 104. At bar 7, King of kings' was again Adagio, as it was later at Lord of lords.' The pace was now (bar 81) increased to M. 112, and a stringendo was commenced. Six bars from the end the pace was M. 120, and the Hallelujahs became frenetic.

It

When it was over not a few in the hall felt wounded. is said that Handel when writing this sublime chorus thought he saw all Heaven before him and the great God Himself. Did he hear the interpretation' we had to hear at Birmingham? No. 45, I know that my Redeemer liveth.' After the foregoing experience the comforting charm of this beautiful aria was a great relief. Never before have we heard the instrumental parts played to such perfection. Every phrase was caressed with tenderness, and the accompaniment never intruded. Here, indeed, was some compensation and balm. There was not much else to call for special remark. Nos. 46, 47, 48, and 49 were all sung by the choir.

'Since by man' was taken at M. 50, 'By man also' at M. 148, 'For as in Adam' again at M. 50, and 'Even so in Christ' at about M. 160.

Nos. 50 and 51, 'The trumpet shall sound,' had trumpets galore, and made a brave show of brilliant timbre. Mr. Whitehill sang the aria and Mr. J. Solomon excelled his own record as the solo trumpeter.

All else was omitted until No. 56, 'Worthy is the Lamb,' the performance of which was in every way satisfactory. The 'Amen' chorus, too, was finely sung. A feature was the grandeur of the powerful sostenuto climax near the end.

THE AUTHORS' CLUB DINNER.

It was a happy idea of this genial Club, of which Mr. Algernon Rose is the honorary secretary, to make Dr. W. H. Cummings the chief guest at their dinner on October 14. Mr. J. Mewburn-Levien presided, and there were many members and guests present. In proposing the toast of the evening, Mr. Mewburn-Levien referred in eulogistic terms to the great services rendered to music by their honoured guest. The following is the substance of Dr. Cummings's reply:

MUSIC'S MISSION.

Music is remarkable as being the most ancient of all the Arts, and, paradoxical as it may seem, it is also the youngest. A question which naturally presents itself is-What do we that music is the result of rhythmic, well-ordered, vibrations— mean by the term 'Music'? Scientifically, it may be said sounds which are not so produced are mere noise and cacophony.

We know perfectly well that our ancestors (say of the 13th, 14th, and 15th centuries) delighted to recognise as the perfection of sweet sounds, combinations of melody and harmony which would be considered barbarous if performed to-day-possibly if those worthy ancestors could re-visit this earth they would be amazed, perhaps distressed, to hear the harmonic combinations we consider beautiful. The truth is that likes and dislikes are matters of growth and environment. An old adage suggests that 'appetite comes with eating.' If that be true, what a heavy responsibility rests on those who provide music for public performance. Surely they should see to it that the programmes not only afford entertainment, but are also calculated to improve and raise the public taste.

Music's mission is to elevate the soul, to improve the mind, to solace the sick and weary, to nerve and encourage the strong, to recall happy memories from the past, to suggest greater and fuller happiness in the future.

Music's mission as an educator and as a potent factor in civilization has been proclaimed during many past ages by great men and great thinkers: Plato, Aristotle, Luther, Shakespeare, Carlyle, Gladstone, and, only a week or so ago, the present headmaster of Eton quoted a State official as saying 'that during the 20th century, music would be the most important educational subject in England.'

To-day we as a nation are keen in our appreciation of music, although it has been the fashion to decry our claim to a distinguished place amongst musical peoples. This has arisen from an ignorance of musical history. It is now a known and accepted fact that the earliest existing example of beautiful melody and tureful harmony combined is an old English people's song, which, heard by a monk at Reading Abbey, was noted down by him before the year 1240. This composition, full of grace and charm, had no parallel in any country in Europe. The priceless treasure I have described is written on parchment, and is preserved in the British Museum. In the 17th century we had the great and original composer, Henry Purcell, called by his contemporaries the British Orpheus; his life, all too short (only thirty-seven years), afforded time to show that as a creative musician he had then no equal. The advent of the Hanoverian Kings, and of Handel, brought a new fashion into the realm of music, and Handel became the idol of the multitude. Music composers of the day swam with the tide, and too often their effusions were only faint imitations of the great master they admired, and they forgot and neglected the compositions of their compatriot Purcell, or if they remembered them it was only as antique specimens of harmony. Some excuse may be made for musicians when