Ladies and Gentlemen,—I cannot pretend to give you, in the short time allotted to me, a thorough insight into a subject so entirely new, at least in this country. Some people, because they never heard of rhythmical gymnastics before, think the thing has only just been discovered, only last week, perhaps. It is not quite so new, as I taught it at a girls' school here in 1906 already, and then it had been taught for over three years at Geneva and in other places, so that there has been ample time to give it a thorough test. Since then it has been adopted at several Conservatoires: Carlsruhe, Stuttgart, Hamburg, Berlin, Frankfort, Cologne, Turin, and many other places and schools in France, and in Switzerland where it originated.

A Hungarian peasant poet says to his sweetheart : “No mother has born thee; budding 'pon a rose-tree on Whitsunday morn, at dawn wert thou born.” He might have said it as well of the Hungarian folk-song—whose parentage is a mystery, its charm that of Nature, and its fresh vitality that of the dawn.

In these days when it is, perhaps, not considered impolitic or impolite unblushingly to vaunt one's wares, the invitation graciously conveyed by the Council of this Association to me, as the compiler of the work entitled “The King's Musick,” to say some few words regarding my literary first-born, did not so much startle me as it might have done in my salad days. Still, it is not an easy task to preserve an even balance when speaking of one's own particular efforts, and the only efficient way is to assume to a large extent the position of one looking at the book from a perfectly unprejudiced point of view, such as a member of the outside public can alone possess.

Until a few years ago London was open to the reproach that, whereas a hearing was readily given to every grade of German music, its acquaintance with French composers was limited to Gounod and Saint-Saëns. Since then much has happened, and every concert-goer has had an opportunity of hearing the works of the more prominent of our French contemporaries.

It is noteworthy that three generations of the same family were named Thomas Arne. The Bishop of London granted a marriage licence on February 4, 1680, to “Thomas Arne of St. Paul's Covent Garden, Bachelor, 27 and upwards, and Mary Thursfield of St. Martin's in Fields, Spinster 20, with her father's consent at St. Peter's Cornhill, or elsewhere in Diocese.” These were the grandparents of the composer. The register of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, records on December 30, 1682, the baptism of “Thomas, Son of Thomas Arne by Mary his wife.” This was the father of the composer. In April, 1707, he married Ann Wheeler at the Mercers' Chapel, Cheapside, and three years afterward the son was born who became the celebrated musician. The baptismal register of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, contains this entry, dated May 28, 1710, “Thomas, Son of Thomas Arne by Ann his wife.” I can find no contemporary evidence of the day of his birth; but March 12 is the traditionary date which has met with general acceptance. We may note that Arne received only one Christian name at his baptism, Thomas; when and why he adopted the second name Augustine we can only surmise. Probably it was done to distinguish him from his father and grandfather. It has been suggested that he may have assumed the name Augustine when he joined the Roman Catholic Church. I have made diligent inquiry, at the Sardinian Chapel and elsewhere, and have failed to find any evidence of this. An autograph letter of Dr. Bumey in my possession says that “old Mrs. Arne, the mother of Dr. Arne, was a bigotted Roman Catholic.” Doubtless she instructed her son in the tenets of her church; but it is noteworthy that the burial register of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, on the north side of which church the composer was interred, gives his name Thomas Arne.

I am very pleased to have a further opportunity of speaking to you on the subject of chimes, and of completing the part of the subject I was unable to deal with in my last paper given before this Association about two years ago. On that occasion I was only able to treat of chimes and chime tunes of our own country. To-night I propose to deal with Continental Chimes as fully as possible, both as to the music played, and as to the mechanism which is employed to produce it, comparing them with such as exist in England. As far as possible, I shall endeavour to make this paper complete in itself, although there will be, of necessity, references which will presuppose a knowledge of some things I have already fully set forth here on previous occasions. To give an accurate knowledge of the finest Continental Chimes, I have decided to take in detail one of the best known, and for this purpose I have chosen M alines, of which I shall give the fullest particulars. I have been fortunate enough to obtain them through the courtesy of the officials, and of M. Jos Denyn, the famous carillonneur, in particular, as well as by my own personal observation on the many occasions I have visited the city. A comparison with our own chime mechanism and chime music will accentuate the differences which exist, and this comparison I shall frequently draw in the course of my remarks.

It happened that two sessions ago I was suddenly called upon to supply a Paper for this Association in lieu of one promised, which by accident the writer was unable to give. I thought that some remarks dealing with the evolution of an important member of the modern orchestra—the flute, might be of interest. In this Paper I endeavoured to trace the beginnings of the soft-breathing flute, to show the stages it had passed through, with its variants, until we arrived at the splendid instruments of to-day. Thanks to the ever ready skill of Mr. John Finn, who does not hesitate to put to his lips rude instruments thousands of years old, and who can produce mellifluous sounds from them, I was enabled to let you hear music of many ages. Since the date of that lecture, it has been suggested that it would be well if some further examples of the development of music for the flute could be presented, so that the historical steps could be made more apparent, and the gradual advancement of its music perceived. It is in response to that desire that I stand before you to-day, and shall endeavour to give you some brief account of what, after research, I find has been put forth by composers as component links in the long past chain of special music for the flute.