To this Society England owes a debt she can never repay, for it is only through the unselfish devotion of its members, that the regular presentation of classical orchestral music was, for very many years rendered possible. In the first place the reasonable supposition must be borne in mind that only a limited number of

people would be found sufficiently interested in the subject to give it financial support, and thus the inevitable question of ways and means would be ever present and, indeed, even to this day it still confronts the directors who are, and have been from the first, entirely unpaid. In fact, if the truth were told it would reveal many sacrifices, sometimes no mean ones either, made by musicians in order to keep the lamp of orchestral music burning in this country. A high ideal was aimed at, and nothing meretricious or unworthy was suffered to detract from the dignity of the performances.

At the beginning it must be admitted, the directors found it necessary to "temper the wind to the shorn lamb" by offering to their patrons other attractions beside the purely orchestral, so they engaged instrumentalists to play chamber music, while one or two singers also helped to vary the programmes. It was not long, however, before chamber music was discarded. From that day to this, the concerts have never changed in character. Under all circumstances, whether of success or depression, nothing but the cult of the great classics was regarded as the essential feature of the aims of the Society. Its history is, assuredly, a fascinating one, not only on account of the intimate association with the greatest composers of the nineteenth century and the wonderful galaxy of genius which has made offerings at its shrine, but of the record of courage and determination which illumines it.

In order to appreciate at its true significance

the present popularity of orchestral music, it must be remembered that only a comparatively short time ago, there were but few performances given, and that even these did not attract sufficient people to pay the expenses, unless under special and occasional circumstances.

It was then, under such disheartening conditions, that the Philharmonic continued to live and carry on its work in the highest interests of art, and although its light may have been at times somewhat obscured by contemporary brilliancy, its story is one of which not only the Society, but the nation at large may be justifiably proud.

As an interesting commentary on the change that has come over musical taste in England, it may be mentioned that Mendelssohn conducted one season and Wagner another: the former was the most successful in the history of the Society, and the latter the most disastrous.

Cherubini, Spohr, Weber, Mendelssohn and Gounod, amongst many others, wrote works especially for it, and, above all, Beethoven's colossal and immortal Ninth Symphony is denoted by an asterisk in Grove's dictionary, as having been similarly composed.

In recent years one of the greatest events not only in its own history, but in the history of British music, was the first performance at the Queen's Hall in London, of Sir Edward Elgar's first Violin Concerto on the 10th of November, in the year 1910.

Played by Herr Kreisler and conducted by the composer, it achieved an instantaneous success