Of real use to the good relations which have existed, intermittently perhaps, but never clouded by misunderstanding, was the mission of the English Singers who came to Prague. They sang to us in the large hall of the Obecni Dum, the building dedicated to the townsfolk's recreation. They sang us old-time motettes, madrigals, ballads, and we were taken back to our own country by the soothing harmonies of Weelkes. We saw Winchester Cathedral, its long nave and squat tower, standing in lush meadows in the shade of ancient elms, the College Gate, its pillars so artfully, invitingly rounded by William of Wykeham, drew us in again. We were stirred by William Byrd's "Praise our Lord, all ye Gentiles," and taken to Oxford by Gibbons's "What is our life? A play of passion. Our mirth? The music of division." Purcell recalled our gracious English landscape, and English life, "When Myra sings we seek the enchanting sound"; and Thomas Morley with "Now is the month of maying." Then there was rollicking Tom Bateson, of Dublin, with his alluring "Come follow me, fair nymphs!" And the Bohemian audience were loud in generous applause. You may well believe that a land which has given to the world Smetana, Dvořak, Ševček, and so many other famous musicians, will concentrate all that is good in music in Prague, its capital. There are two opera-houses to start with; one of them, the National Theatre, throws its reflections on the surface of the river at the end of the Narodni Třida; the German Theatre stands on the rising ground between the Museum at the top of the Václavské Naměsti and the Wilson Station. There are numerous concert-halls, and every restaurant of any repute has a good little orchestra of its own. Then there is a quaint old theatre down in the centre of the Old Town; you will find it standing comfortably among old red-roofed houses, between two open spaces, market-places bright with fruit and flowers in their season. It was in this theatre that Mozart's _Don Giovanni_ was performed for the first time.