The literature and art of Russia have long been known and appreciated in this country; indeed, in the domain of literature the names of Tolstoy, Dostoieffsky, Turgenev, Pushkin, and Gogol, are now almost as familiar in Britain as those of our own great writers. There is also very real appreciation of the musical art of that great country, in so far as we refer to the fine symphonic works, chamber-music, and songs of distinguished musicians like Tchaikovsky, Borodin, Rachmaninoff and others.

Dr. Wheatley, in an article on London in the time of Shakespeare, says, “The Cries in the streets were much the same as those recorded in the 15th Century.” (From “London Luckpenny”). He goes on to mention particularly the Cry of “What d'ye lacke?” and Rock Sampire, Old Boots, Buy a Mat, Small Coal, Green Brooms. Also he mentions the Cries outside the prison doors for the “poor women in the dark dungeons,” and “Bread and Meat for the tender mercy of God to the poor prisoners of the Marshalsea.” He would have been much interested in the complete collection of these old Cries, which are preserved to us in the works of three great musicians who were contemporaries of Shakespeare.

It is generally accepted that women are the musical sex. It is taken for granted that nearly all women in the middle and upper classes are musically inclined, and practically every girl of these classes “learns music,” or better still, “studies music.” Our musical colleges have far more girls than men. Socially, ladies monopolise any performance there is; a man may sing a song, but that is generally all; he hardly ever plays the piano or violin. Some of us remember times when a man playing the piano was considered odd; it was essentially a lady's instrument. At a concert, especially a ballad concert, or a piano or fiddle recital, women fill most of the seats.

I deeply appreciate the honour of having been asked to read a paper to-day on Ballet. I cannot but feel, however, that I have far more to learn on this subject from my audience than any here could possibly learn from me.

Though many papers have been read before this Association on subjects connected with bells, there has been none hitherto, so far as I can ascertain, on the subject of change-ringing. This is the more surprising, as the art of change-ringing is purely English in origin and development, and its practice is still almost entirely confined to this country. I can only suppose that it has been regarded in the past as a mechanical exercise beneath the notice of musicians.

It was with such diffidence as becomes an amateur that I yielded to an invitation to read a paper before the Musical Association. For some three years I have at intervals collected notes of musical settings of Classical—that is to say, Greek and Latin—lyrics, excluding those which occur in the drama. I have paid particular attention to one author—Horace, but even in this instance my notes are in many places defective, partly because I was unable, owing to the war, to consult friends and colleagues abroad, and partly because I had not the leisure to make any systematic attempt to exhaust the sources of information nearer at hand. Hence it is that the chief reason for my reluctance to face this learned audience—my inadequate equipment—became in the end the chief reason for my acceptance of your flattering invitation. By bringing my subject to the notice of musicians I hoped to gather more material, and I shall be grateful to any members of the Association who may add to my store.