_Mr. Falconer._ I must demur to their having only the minor key. The natural ascent of the voice is in the major key, and with their exquisite sensibility to sound they could not have missed the obvious expression of cheerfulness. With their three scales, diatonic, chromatic, and enharmonic, they must have exhausted every possible expression of feeling. Their scales were in true intervals; they had really major and minor tones; we have neither, but a confusion of both. They had both sharps and flats: we have neither, but a mere set of semitones, which serve for both. In their enharmonic scale the fineness of their ear perceived distinctions which are lost on the coarseness of ours. _Mr. Minim._ With all that they never got beyond melody. They had no harmony, in our sense. They sang only in unisons and octaves. _Mr. Falconer._ It is not clear that they did not sing in fifths. As to harmony in one sense, I will not go so far as to say with Ritson that the only use of the harmony is to spoil the melody; but I will say, that to my taste a simple accompaniment, in strict subordination to the melody, is far more agreeable than that Niagara of sound under which it is now the fashion to bury it. _Mr. Minim._ In that case, you would prefer a song with a simple pianoforte accompaniment to the same song on the Italian stage. _Mr. Falconer._ A song sung with feeling and expression is good, however accompanied. Otherwise, the pianoforte is not much to my mind. All its intervals are false, and temperament is a poor substitute for natural intonation. Then its incapability of sustaining a note has led, as the only means of producing effect, to those infinitesimal subdivisions of sound, in which all sentiment and expression are twittered and frittered into nothingness. _The Rev. Dr. Opimian._ I quite agree with you. The other day a band passed my gate playing 'The Campbells are coming'; but instead of the fine old Scotch lilt, and the emphasis on 'Oho! oho!' what they actually played was, 'The Ca-a-a-a-ampbells are co-o-o-o-ming, Oh-o-ho-o-o! Oh-o-ho-o-o'; I thought to myself, There is the essence and quintessence of modern music. I like the old organ-music such as it was, when there were no keys but C and F, and every note responded to a syllable. The effect of the prolonged and sustained sound must have been truly magnificent: 'Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swelled the note of praise.' Who cares to hear sacred music on a piano? _Mr. Minim._ Yet I must say that there is a great charm in that brilliancy of execution which is an exclusively modern and very modern accomplishment _Mr. Falconer._ To those who perceive it. All things are as they are perceived. To me music has no charm without expression.