The important book to which I desire to call your attention to-day belongs to a collection of upwards of 2,000 MSS., formed by a Venetian Jesuit of the name of Canonici, in the latter part of the last century. The Bodleian purchased this collection in its entirety in the year 1818. The liturgical MSS. which it contains are well known and have often been cited; and the whole of these Canonici MSS., as they are still called, have been carefully catalogued in the various classes to which they belong, such as Greek, Latin, Italian, miscellaneous, &c. But for some reason or other this particular MS. of music appears to have entirely escaped observation. It was in the “Miscellaneous” catalogue, under the following entry: “213. Codex Chartaceus, in folio, ff. 145. Saec. XV. Canticorum liber, precipue sacrorum, notis musicalibus necnon auctorum nominibus instructorum. Nomina scriptorum sunt.” Then follows a long list of names,∗ amongst which those of Binchois and Dufay at once arrested my attention.

In July last a special meeting of The Musical Association was held to welcome a party of distinguished American musicians who were visiting these shores; and at that meeting we had the pleasure of listening to a paper by Professor Waldo Pratt, of Hartford Theological Seminary. The subject he chose to speak upon was “The Isolation of Music “; no doubt you have now read Professor Pratt's thoughtful and suggestive paper, which appeared in our last volume of Proceedings. He complained of the neglect of music in popular and even scholarly thought, and he made an eloquent appeal to those occupying positions of authority in the educational world to accept music as a regular and necessary branch of education; and further, he sought to demonstrate the natural affinities of music with literature. I was unable to accord complete agreement with the picture Professor Pratt drew of “The Isolation of Music,” and have given my reasons for this elsewhere. His view was no doubt correct enough so far as the United States are concerned, but in this country a great deal is done for the encouragement of music. The State pays nearly a quarter-of-a-million a year for the tuition of music in our normal public schools, and we have other important agencies at work; but nothing of the kind is yet found in America. Whether we shall ever attain to the wisdom of the old Greek philosophers, who recognised the great value of music as a factor of general education, and indeed carried their theory into actual practice, we cannot tell; but I believe if such should ever be the case, and the subject be properly taught, that then we shall no longer be offended by the way in which music is too commonly referred to by professional novelists and others, who garnish their writings with allusions to music more or less wrong, and for the most part ridiculous. The novel writer often introduces the regulation gush about music, and eulogises the art in high-flown terms replete with lofty sentiments; and then, proceeding to technical description, he (or she) makes ridiculous mistakes, which show that the writer does not possess sufficient interest in the art to master terms and details which may not unfairly be called commonplace.

It is presumably a fact, which no student of musical history will contradict, that from the earliest times the theorist has been behind the composer. It is the duty of the “maker” of music to create harmony; it is the province of the theorist to explain, analyse, and classify those harmonies. To ascertain, therefore, in what position the harmony of to-day stands, it is not sufficient for the student to turn to textbooks—they are probably now explaining the progressions used by the last generation of composers. If the student would ascertain the most modern developments of harmony, he must seek them in the works of the most original and advanced composers of to-day—not in the treatises of the theory of yesterday.

The survey which I propose to take of the popular dances of the eighteenth century cannot profess to deal with any but the smallest part of the contents of the dance books which appeared in such numbers during the period now under our consideration.

All revolutions, however apparently sudden in their actual dénouement, are the result of causes which have long been working in preparation for the final event. Unless the minds of men have reached that point of preparedness which enables them to comprehend its principles, and to a certain extent to forecast its immediate possibilities of development, no movement can be said to have much chance of continuance.

It was suggested to me that I should address you on the different views, or impressions, concerning music, of the musician on the one hand, and the non-musician, or non-progressive musician, or Philistine, as he has been termed, on the other; rather with the idea, I suppose, of suggesting some sort of Eirenicon, or compromise between conflicting opinions or notions: a sort of reconciliation between Esoterics and Exoterics. In many controversies, undoubtedly much would be gained, or, at all events, matters would be cleared and simplified, if the two parties were to say, in all good faith: let us understand one another as to wherein we differ; we may find that there is less in our differences than in our agreements after all.

Since the times of the Reformation, no century has witnessed such radical changes in human thought as have taken place during the last one hundred years. All political, social, scientific, and artistic principles and methods have been altered, and a strict practical and logical consideration appears happily to be the accepted leading theory in all branches of learning.

The general subject which underlies the following paper is the geometry of the practical composer, and I regret that I find it impracticable to deal effectively with even a part of that subject by any methods except such as involve much definition, symbolization, category, classification, cataloguing, and so forth. A broad and even aesthetic treatment of the same subject is no doubt possible, and surveys of that class are of great assistance to the art; it seems however sufficient to say that such is not the object of the present paper, which deals rather with the labour of the workshop proper. All the principal writers on the practical aspect of musical form have, whatever their special method, built up their subject in more or less of geometrical fashion. The composer himself must equally have such processes in his mind. More confusedly no doubt than has the analyst, for the sub-division of labour entails this; and perhaps only just enough for his own immediate purposes, for that is human nature. But still the processes must be there. The subject then in short demands a mechanical treatment, and I can only hope that I may be able to offer this with the least offence.