it. But although this is doubtless true in most cases, we have often noticed that audiences are restless during the first part of the concert, and frequently do not get "warmed up" to the point of giving close attention to the performance until ten or fifteen minutes after the program begins, and sometimes not until the second half has been reached. For this reason, and also to cover the distraction arising from the entrance of the ubiquitous late-comer, it seems best to us that some shorter and lighter work be placed at the very beginning of the program—possibly an overture, in the case of a symphony concert. The phenomenon here alluded to has an exact parallel in the church service. When we enter the church, we are thinking about all sorts of things connected with our daily life, and it takes us some little time to forget these extraneous matters and adjust ourselves to the spirit of a church service, and particularly to get into the appropriate mood for listening to a sermon. The organ prelude and other preliminary parts of the service have as their partial function, at least, the transference of our thoughts and attitudes from their former chaotic and egoistic state to one more appropriate to the demands of the more serious part of the service to follow. Somewhat the same sort of thing is found in the case of the majority of people who go to a concert hall for an evening's performance, and although the end to be attained is of course altogether different, yet the method should probably be somewhat the same. Our feeling is therefore that there ought usually to be some comparatively light number at the beginning of the concert program in order that we may be assisted in getting into the listening mood before the heavier works are presented. On the other hand, an artist often plunges into a difficult composition at the very beginning of the concert, and by his marvelous technique or his tremendous emotional vitality sweeps his audience immediately into an attitude of rapt attention; all of which
