harmonica and a 'contrivance for the perfect measurement of time,' known as the Bell-harmonic. The most important thing about Francis Hopkinson from our point of view, however, is that his song 'My Days Have Been so Wondrous Free,' dated 1759, is, as far as we know, the earliest secular American composition extant. It is included in a collection of songs made by Hopkinson which contains also several other specimens of his muse. They are pretty, simple, graceful, and somewhat amateurish. Among them is an anthem with figured bass--a rarity in early American music. Possibly Hopkinson was editor and part author of the 'Collection of Psalm Tunes with a few Anthems and Hymns' published in 1763 for the use of Christ and St. Peter's churches. He has been credited with the authorship of one of the numerous 'Washington's Marches,' though which of them he wrote--if he wrote any--his sole and painstaking biographer[22] has been unable to discover. Mr. Sonneck, however, has succeeded in proving that he composed 'The Temple of Minerva, a Musical Entertainment performed in Nov., 1781, by a Band of Gentlemen and Ladies at the hotel of the Minister of France in Philadelphia.' The music of this piece, unfortunately, is not extant. A collection of eight songs by Hopkinson, with accompaniments for harpsichord or pianoforte, was published in Philadelphia in 1788. Speaking of these Mr. Sonneck says: 'As a composer Francis Hopkinson did not improve greatly during the twenty years which separate this song collection from his earliest efforts. His harmony is still faulty at times, and he possesses not an original musical profile. To claim the adjective of beautiful or important for these songs or his other compositions would mean to confuse the standpoint of the musical critic with that of the antiquarian. But even the critic who cares not to explain and pardon shortcomings from a historical point of view will admit that Hopkinson's songs are not without grace and that our first poet-composer obeyed the laws of musical declamation more carefully than a host of fashionable masters of that period. Artistically, of course, he resembles his contemporaries. His musical world, like theirs, was an untrue Arcadia, populated with over-sentimental shepherds and shepherdesses, or with jolly tars, veritable models of sobriety and good behavior, even when filling huge bumpers for drinking-bouts. Then again we notice in Francis Hopkinson's music the studied simplicity of that age for which treble and bass had become the pillars of the universe. This and much more is antiquated to-day. But why should we criticize at all our first "musical compositions?" It becomes us better to look upon these primitive efforts as upon venerable documents of the innate love of the American people for the beauties of music and as documents of the fact that among the signers of the Declaration of Independence there was at least one who proved to be a "successful Patron of Arts and Sciences."'