Of important Northern composers there are not many, but the _Britannica_ has succeeded in minimizing even their small importance. Gade has a biography only as long as Pierson’s; and Kjerulf, who did so much for Norwegian music, is given less space than William Hawes, with no critical indication of his importance. Even Grieg receives but a little more space than Charles Stanford or Sterndale Bennett! Nordraak, who was Grieg’s chief co-worker in the development of a national school of music, has no biography whatever. Nor has Sinding, whose fine orchestral and chamber music is heard everywhere. Not even Sibelius, whose very notable compositions brought Finland into musical prominence, is considered worthy of biographical mention. But the most astonishing omission is that of Buxtehude, one of the great and important figures in the early development of music. Not only was he the greatest organist of his age, but he was a great teacher as well. He made Lübeck famous for its music, and established the “Abendmusiken” which Bach walked fifty miles to hear. To the _Britannica’s_ editor, however, he is of less importance than Henry Smart, the English organist! In Dvorák’s biography we learn that English sympathy was entirely won by the _Stabat Mater_; but no special mention is made of his famous E-minor (American) Symphony. Smetana, the first great Bohemian musician, receives less space than Henry Bishop, who is remembered principally as the composer of _Home, Sweet Home_. But when we pass over into Poland we find inadequacy and omissions of even graver character. Moszkowski receives just eight lines of biography, the same amount that is given to _God-Bless-the-Prince-of-Wales_ Richards. Paderewski is accorded equal space with the English pianist, Cipriani Potter; and no mention is made of his famous $10,000 fund for the best American compositions. This is a characteristic omission, however, for, as I have pointed out before, a composer’s activities in America are apparently considered too trivial to mention, whereas, if it is at all possible to connect England, even in a remote and far-fetched way, with the genius of the world, it is done. Josef Hofmann, the other noted Polish pianist, is too insignificant to be given even passing mention in the _Britannica_. But such an inclusion could hardly be expected of a reference work which contains no biography of Leschetizky, the greatest and most famous piano teacher the world has ever known.