To advert more minutely to Mori’s powers as a Violinist—since he was not great in _all_ the requisites, it follows that he can scarcely be regarded as an artist of the very highest order. That mechanical command over the executive difficulties of the instrument, for which he was so remarkable, and which enabled him, when yet a boy, to delight the lovers of the surprising—was his chief merit—“the pith and marrow of his attribute.” The tuition he received from Viotti, that most vigorous of Violinists, was of great importance in directing and maturing his great manual capacity; but, though he derived from him, and from his own assiduous study, a full, free tone, a dashing execution, and the most accurate neatness,—his temperament, somewhat hard and ungenial, seems to have been too little in accordance with Viotti’s, to admit of his fully acquiring _all_ the advantages which that great preceptor was fitted to impart. He caught most felicitously the art of triumphing over difficult passages—the perfection of mere fiddling—but he had not the soul “To snatch a grace _beyond_ the reach of _art_—” to awaken, through the magic of expression, those deeper sensibilities in which music finds the truest source of its empire. Mori’s playing, with its powers and its deficiencies, was admirably suited to the apprehension and desires of a fashionable audience. It was showy, but not profound; striking, but not moving; full of artificial neatness, with little of natural grace. His hand wrought to more purpose than his mind. He was (before the malady that finally subdued him) a man of rigid nerve, and had all the advantages that confidence could bestow,—and these, especially in solo playing, are far from inconsiderable—but then, for want of the sensitiveness pertaining to a more delicate organization, he lost the finest part of what _might_ have been accomplished. He has occupied a very marked place amongst English instrumentalists; but, for the reasons here alleged, the impression he produced seems not likely to prove of a very durable character, so as to secure to him any considerable future importance in musical annals. As a composer for his instrument, he possessed very slender pretensions. His performance itself, admirable as it was in some points, sufficiently shewed why he could not hope to distinguish himself in composition. The few manifestations he made in that way have given no cause for regretting his general habit of trusting to the works of others, for the musical ideas which he had to convey[59]. Mr. LODER, of Bath, long prominent among provincials, and not unknown in the metropolis, was justly esteemed for his knowledge of the orchestra, and his utility as an able leader.