Ludwig Spohr, whom Rupert Hughes calls one of ‘the first of second-best composers,’ was a virtuoso of the violin, and it is chiefly through his writing for that instrument that he retains what position he has in modern times. He first became known as a violinist and constantly showed his predilection for the instrument in his writings. In his day he seemed a dazzling genius, with his eleven operas, his nine symphonies, and his great oratorio ‘The Last Judgment.’ Yet these have hardly more than a historical value to-day--except for the quiet pleasure they can give the student who takes the trouble to examine the scores. It is as a composer for the violin that Spohr continues to speak with some authority. His seventeen concertos still enter largely into the training of young violin virtuosos, and figure to a considerable though diminishing extent in concerts. As a master of the violin Spohr represents the old school. His bowing, when he played, was conservative. He drew from his instrument a broad singing quality of tone. All his writing shows his intimacy with the instrument of his personal triumphs. It has been said that ‘everything turned to a concerto at his touch.’ His style, however, was not lurid, but rather delicate and nuanced. Presently he was eclipsed by Paganini,[97] a genius who was half charlatan, who stopped short of no trick with his instrument provided it might procure applause. Spohr could see nothing but the trickster in this man who thrilled Liszt and who has left several pieces which are to-day in constant use and are not scorned by the best of musicians. Spohr, however, had an individuality which could not blend with that of the meteoric virtuoso. In some respects he is extraordinarily modern. His harmony was continually striving for peculiar and colorful effects. He was addicted, in a mild way, to program music, and gave titles to much of his music, such as the ‘Seasons’ symphony. But his genius always stopped short of the epoch-making quality of supreme creativeness. In violin literature we must mention one more work, one which has never been surpassed in beauty of workmanship and which remains one of the great things of its kind in all music. This is Mendelssohn’s concerto. It is, outside of the concert overtures, the one work of his which has not sunk materially in the eyes of musicians since its first years. Its themes, though not robust, are of the very highest beauty. Its technical qualities make it one of the best beloved of works to violinists. And its unmatchable polish and balance of architecture make it a constant joy to concert audiences. H. K. M. FOOTNOTES: [93] Oskar Bie: ‘A History of the Pianoforte and Pianoforte Players,’ Chap. VIII. [94] ‘The Pianoforte and Its Music,’ Chap. X. [95] ‘The Pianoforte and Pianoforte Players,’ Chap. VII. [96] B. Pesth, 1814; d. Paris, 1888.