Sonata no. 1 in F major for flute (or violin) and figured bass

Reid Sonata F maj no. 1 for flute and figured bass

Andante largo
Allegro
Andante largo
Menuetto

In the programme note for the performance of this piece by Mr J. D Miller, in May 1917, Professor Tovey writes:

Some time in March last year I had the good fortune to discover the second edition of General Reid's first set of six sonatas for flute, bound up in a volume that begins with an abridged translation of Fux's "Gradus ad Parnassum" and contains some flute sonatas of Vinci, who seems to be as much General Reid's model as Burney asserts him to be Graun's.  It also contains some mysterious violin sonatas "by a Gentleman" printed privately, - very privately indeed, for no manuscript could be more illegible.  I am not sure that these may not also be of General Reid's composition;  in the meantime his well printed and well attested first set of flute solos shall henceforth be produced in regular order at the first concert of each season of the Reid Orchestra; and produced in the middle of the programme as things worth hearing for their own sake, as well as by way of reparation to the injury that has been done to the musicianship and taste of this distinguished eighteenth-century amateur by producing some garbled versions of isolated tunes from his sonatas, "shewing the taste of his time" by orchestration in the style of the Great Exhibition of 1851.
I have endeavoured to interpret his ornamentations according to what Burney (writing in 1780) would have called "the modern way of taking appoggiaturas and notes of taste"; and it is delightful to learn from Mr Miller that a certain sign, unfamiliar to me, used by General Reid in warbling passages, is still in traditional use in Edinburgh to indicate "double-tongueing."
Frequenters of the old Reid Concerts and of the Historical Concerts will recognise the third movement as the "Pastorale" that, in what has hitherto been known as General Reid's music, did duty for the Flute Solo stipulated by him.  He would not have appreciated its partial transporition to that upper octave to which the full orchestra banishes the flute.  To the eighteenth-century music lover the soul of the flute resided in its gentle lower register.