Many years ago, in the essay which is set second in this collection, I wrote (speaking of the early English composers) that “at length the first great wave of music culminated in the works of Tallis and Byrde … Byrde is infinitely greater than Tallis, and seems worthy indeed to stand beside Palestrina.” Generally one modifies one’s opinions as one grows older; very often it is necessary to reverse them. This one on Byrde I adhere to: indeed I am nearly proud of having uttered it so long ago. I had then never heard the Mass in D minor. But in the latter part of 1899 Mr. R.R. Terry, the organist of Downside Abbey, and one of Byrde’s latest editors, invited me to the opening of St. Benedict’s Church, Ealing, where the Mass in D minor was given; and there I heard one of the most splendid pieces of music in the world adequately rendered under very difficult conditions. I use the phrase advisedly—”one of the most splendid pieces of music in the world.” When the New Zealander twenty centuries hence reckons up the European masters of music, he will place Byrde not very far down on the list of the greatest; and he will esteem Byrde’s Mass one of the very finest ever written.