The two works of Strauss which have retained their popularity with the public are undoubtedly his best, as their requirements do not enlist such qualities as he does not possess or has not sought to develop. In “Till Eulenspiegel” Strauss’s talent for mordant realism finds full expression. The wild pranks of _Eulenspiegel_ follow each other in mad, cynical humor, and, in the limited form of programme music, the work is flawless. His “Salome” is as perfect a union with Oscar Wilde’s marvellous play as the “Pélléas” and “Mélisande” of Maeterlinck and Debussy. In both the composers have so steeped themselves in the spirit of the poem as to enhance its beauty. But with all my admiration for “Salome” I have never been able to sit through the final scene without a feeling of disgust, which sometimes mounted even to physical nausea. When _Salome_ sings her horrible love music to the head of _John the Baptist_ it has always seemed to me a parody on the glorious finale of “Tristan and Isolde.” I have spoken in another chapter of Tschaikowsky’s visit to America in 1891 as a guest of the Symphony Society. For twenty-five years his popularity was enormous and the mere announcement of his “Symphonie Pathétique” was sufficient to draw a crowded house. His symphonies appeared more often on our concert programmes than those of any other composer. They have a rhythmic and elemental strength which appealed even to the unmusical, but to-day a distinct lessening of this popularity is noticeable. There is a lack of real symphonic development of his themes, and certain crudities of workmanship stand out more clearly as the works have become better known. Young conductors, anxious for ready and cheap applause, still choose one of his symphonies for their début, and the melodic charm of his lighter music, if not heard too often, will retain its place in the affection of our public for some time longer. And now we come to the greatest genius of the nineteenth century—Richard Wagner. “What!” exclaims my reader. “Do you consider him dead?” God forbid! The wings of his genius are still soaring aloft in the ether, but there is no doubt that the attitude of the world of to-day toward his music is absolutely different from that of fifty or sixty years ago when he first electrified or infuriated a public, amazed at his daring innovations. The inevitable has happened—Wagner has become a “classic.”