The popular tunes of almost every European nation possess certain features of their own which the student of national music can ascertain and define. To pronounce upon the original home of any one national tune is of course often as hazardous as to pronounce upon a man's native country from his physiognomy. There are Germans who look much like Englishmen, but a number of Germans seen gathered together would not easily be mistaken for Englishmen. The same may be observed in every nation. We may occasionally meet with an Englishman who has the appearance of a Frenchman, a Chinese, or a Gipsy; but an assembly of Englishmen reveals a certain family-likeness appertaining to the English race. Thus also a collection of the popular tunes of a nation generally exhibits certain predominant peculiarities which enable us to determine whence the tunes came. Those in the 'Dancing Master,' regarded collectively, do not exhibit any family-likeness which it would be possible to indicate by words or by musical notation. They appear to have sprung from as many sources as the words of the English language. The language has, however, a strongly marked individual character from the various adopted words having become Anglicized; while the musical compositions of Englishmen bear no stamp by which they could be recognized as English. The English instrumentalists played, of course, chiefly the popular tunes of their time. It is unnecessary to explain in detail how the music was introduced into the dramatic performances. The works of Shakespeare, with which the reader is presumably familiar, show this sufficiently. They likewise contain many instances of the admission of popular songs or ballads,--such as Desdemona's "Sing willow, willow, willow;" Ophelia's "How should I your true love know?" or the Clown's "O mistress mine where are you roaming?" in Twelfth-night. Also vocal music composed for two or more voices was occasionally introduced,--even the jocular catch, which was especially relished in England, and which Shakespeare ridicules (Twelfth-night, Act II., Scene 3):-- '_Sir Toby Belch._--Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver? shall we do that?' After some punning, Sir Toby, Sir Andrew Aguecheek and the Clown sing together a catch. _Enter_ Maria. '_Maria._--What a caterwauling do you keep here? If my lady have not called up her steward, Malvolio, and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.'