MY years of membership with the Folklore Society have left me with a wealth of memories of personalities who formerly loomed large in its Council and Committee. In recalling some of these, I might perhaps be allowed to comment also on the strengths and weaknesses of the Society as they appear to me, looking back over those years. I first attended a Society meeting and decided to become a member in 1949. We used then to meet in the Chemistry Lecture Theatre in University College, and I well remember its hard benches and astringent smells. I was introduced by Mary Danielli, a young anthropologist who was helping Professor James with the editing of the Journal. This was not in a flourishing condition just then, and much of it was taken up with a series of papers of incredible dullness on Colour Symbolism in medieval literature, compiled by a former Honorary Treasurer. In October 1949 I gave a paper on 'The Hill of the Dragon;' the title aroused the interest of at least one reporter, and we had a pleasant little write-up in the Evening Standar4 describing earnest folklorists discussing dragons and gold in Gower Street after the meeting. I was delighted to find that a society existed prepared to take such subjects seriously and debate them in an objective way. It is easy to look back pityingly on this period after the Second World War, especially after the dismal picture given by Richard Dorson of his three visits to the Society in the early 50s. In fact, however, some of the discussions after the papers reached a level which I only wish were equalled today. With people in the audience like Lord Raglan, Allan Gomme, a younger Mr. Grinsell, the terrifying Professor Rose with his merciless eye for inaccuracies, not to mention Violet Alford and Peter Opie (described by Dorson as 'the youngest person in evidence'), debates were often far from dull or conventional. We frequently left in a pleasurable state of excitement, expressing our indignation over the arguments of the opposition. On such occasions I remember with particular enjoyment the aged Margaret Murray, then in her late eighties and regarded with some trepidation and awe for her daring and revolutionary ideas on witchcraft. Not that she appeared at all revolutionary; she would sit near the front, a bent and seemingly guileless old lady dozing peacefully, and then in the middle of a discussion would suddenly intervene with a relevant and penetrating comment which showed that she had missed not one word of the argument. When she finally retired from the office of President, she was in her nineties, but, as Dr. Hildburgh pointed out in proposing a vote of thanks, had never missed a Council meeting or any important occasion during her two and a half years in office. Unfortunately many of the brilliant people who had brought sparkle into the Society and could see the deeper perspectives involved in folklore studies were by then growing old and many could not attend evening meetings regularly; I was disappointed, for instance, never to meet Arthur Waley, then a member of the Council. Still in those days one felt something of the continuity of the life of the Society from earlier times in the 30s, and put down deficiencies to the upheaval which the war had caused. The bomb which fell on the College had done considerable harm to the records and the library, and the then Librarian, Mr. Johnson, and Mrs Lake Barnett, the Hon. Secretary,