The angel who keeps the gate of light promises she shall be re-admitted if she brings "the gift that is most dear to Heaven." The Peri goes in quest of the gift, first to India, where she procures the last drop of blood shed by the hero who resisted the tyrant Mahmoud, and takes it with her to the gate; but the crystal bar moves not. She continues her quest, and from the pestilential plains of Egypt she takes back the last sigh of the maiden who sacrificed herself to her love for the youth who stole out to die alone. But still the crystal bar moves not. At last, in the vale of Baalbec, she finds the gift,--the tear of a repentant sinner,--which secures her admission.

After a brief orchestral introduction, the Narrator (alto) tells the story of the disconsolate Peri at the gate, and introduces her in the first solo ("How blest seem to me, vanished Child of Air"), a tender, beautiful melody, characterized by romantic sentiment. The Narrator (tenor) introduces the Angel, who delivers her message to the Peri ("One Hope is thine"), to which the latter replies in a sensuous melody, full of Oriental color ("I know the Wealth [277] hidden in every Urn"). The tenor Narrator introduces at this point a quartet ("O beauteous Land"), in which the two trebles, tenor, and bass alternate, followed by the full, powerful chorus, "But crimson now her Rivers ran." A weird march, fairly barbaric in its effect, indicates the approach of the tyrant of Gazna, and introduces the stirring chorus of the Indians and Conquerors ("Hail to Mahmoud"). The tenor Narrator describes the youthful warrior standing alone beside his native river and defying the tyrant. Once more the chorus shouts its greeting to Mahmoud, and then ensues a dialogue in recitative between the two, leading up to the youth's death and a double chorus of lamentation ("Woe, for false flew the Shaft"). The tenor Narrator describes the flight of the Peri to catch the last drop of blood shed for liberty; and then all the voices join with the soprano solo in a broad, strong, exultant finale ("For Blood must holy be"), which is one of the most effective numbers in the work.

The second part opens in the most charming manner. The tenor Narrator pictures the return of the Peri with her gift, leading up to the Angel's solo ("Sweet is our welcome"), which preludes a brief choral passage for sixteen female voices. After the Narrator's declaration of her disappointment, the scene changes to Egypt, and in a dainty, delicate three-part chorus the Spirits of the Nile are invoked not to disturb the Peri. Her lament is heard ("O Eden, how longeth for thee my Heart!"), and the Spirits now weave a gentle, sympathetic strain with [278] her song. A long tenor narration follows ("Now wanders forth the Peri sighing"), describing the pestilence brooding over the Egyptian plains, the music to which is very characteristic. The scene of the maiden dying with her lover is full of pathos, and contains two exquisite numbers,--the narrative solo for mezzo-soprano ("Poor Youth, thus deserted"), and the dying love-song of the Maiden ("O let me only breathe the Air, Love"). The scene closes with a sweet and gentle lament for the pair ("Sleep on"), sung by the Peri, followed by the chorus, which joins in the pathetic farewell.

The third part opens with a lovely chorus of Houris ("Wreathe ye the Steps to Great Allah's Throne"), interspersed with solos and Oriental in its coloring. The tenor narration ("Now Morn is blushing in the Sky"), which is very melodious in character, introduces the Angel, who in an alto solo ("Not yet") once more dooms the Peri to wander. Her reply ("Rejected and sent from Eden's Door") is full of despair. The narration is now taken by the baritone in a flowing, breezy strain ("And now o'er Syria's rosy Plain"), which is followed by a charming quartet of Peris ("Say, is it so?"). Once more the baritone intervenes, followed by the Peri; and then the tenor Narrator takes up the theme in a stirring description of the boy nestling amid the roses, and the "passion-stained" horseman at the fountain. The alto proclaims the vesper call to prayer, and the tenor reflects upon the memories of the wretched man as he sees the child kneeling. [279] The solo baritone announces his repentance, followed by a quartet and chorus in very broad, full harmony ("O blessed Tears of true Repentance!"). The next number is a double one, composed of soprano and tenor solos with chorus ("There falls a Drop on the Land of Egypt"). In an exultant, triumphant strain ("Joy, joy forever, my Work is done!"), the Peri sings her happiness, and the chorus brings the work to a close with the heavenly greeting, "Oh, welcome 'mid the Blessed!" The third part is unquestionably long and wearisome, and taxes not only the voices of the singers, but also the patience of the hearers. The first and second, however, contain some beautiful gems, and the orchestral work is very rich in its coloring. Taken all in all, however, it is a severe treatment of a fanciful subject.

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SPOHR.

Louis Spohr, one of the world's greatest violinists, and a composer of world-wide fame, was born at Brunswick, April 25, 1784. Like all great musical geniuses, his ability was displayed very early. He began to play the violin in his fifth year, and to compose for that instrument before he was in his teens. After studying the rudiments with several teachers, the Duke of Brunswick induced Franz Eck, a recognized master of the violin, to give him instruction. Spohr remained with him two years, and accompanied him on his travels to Russia, studying, composing, and learning much by his observation of Eck's playing. In 1805 he was appointed leader of the band of the Duke of Gotha, and began writing orchestral works, his compositions before that time having been mainly for the violin. His first opera, "Die Prüfung," also appeared about this time. In 1807 he made a very successful tour through Germany, and another in [281] 1809, arousing great enthusiasm by his admirable playing. In that year also occurred the first musical festival in Germany, which was conducted by Spohr at Frankenhausen, in Thuringia. In 1811 another was held, for which he wrote his first symphony. In 1812 his first oratorio, "Das jüngste Gericht," appeared; but after two performances of it he was greatly dissatisfied, and laid it aside. In the fall of that year he made his first public appearance in Vienna, and achieved such success that he was offered and accepted the leadership of the band at the Theater-an-der-Wien. He remained there only three years, however, and then resumed his professional tours in Switzerland and Italy. In 1818 he was appointed conductor of the opera at Frankfort, where he remained for two years, during which time he brought out his operas "Faust" and "Zemire and Azor." In 1820 he went to England for the first time, and played many of his compositions in the Philharmonic concerts. His English visit was a very successful one, and on his journey back to Germany he stopped in Paris, where also he met with an enthusiastic welcome. He finally settled down at Dresden, where Weber was then busy with the preparations for the performance of his "Freischütz." During his stay there, Weber had been offered the post of Hofkapellmeister to the Elector of Cassel; but not being in a position to accept it, he recommended Spohr, and the latter obtained the appointment Jan. 1, 1822, where he remained the rest of his days, as it was a life-office. During this [282] year he finished his opera "Jessonda," one of the most successful of all his vocal works. Four years later he conducted the Rhenish Festival at Düsseldorf and brought out his second oratorio, "Die letzten Dinge" ("The Last Things"). In 1831 he completed his "Violin School," which has ever since been a standard work. His most important symphony, "Die Weihe der Töne" ("The Consecration of Sound"), was produced at Cassel in 1832, and his third oratorio, "Des Heiland's letzte Stunden" ("Calvary"), at the same place in 1835. Four years later he went to England again, and produced his "Calvary" at the Norwich Festival with immense success, which led to his reception of a commission to produce "The Fall of Babylon" for the Festival of 1842. His last opera, "The Crusaders," was written in 1844, but did not meet with a permanent success. From this time until 1857 he was engaged in making tours and producing the works of other composers, among them those of Wagner, whose "Tannhäuser" he brought out in 1853, in spite of the Elector's opposition. In 1857 he was pensioned, and two years later died. He was born a musician and died one, and in his long and honorable life he was always true to his art and did much to ennoble and dignify it, notwithstanding the curious combinations in his musical texture. He never could understand or appreciate Beethoven. He proclaimed himself a disciple of Mozart, though he had little in common with him, and he declared Wagner the greatest [283] of all living composers, on the strength of his "Flying Dutchman" alone. As a performer, he was one of the best of any period.

The Last Judgment.

Spohr wrote two oratorios upon the same subject,--"Das jüngste Gericht" ("The Last Judgment") and "Die letzten Dinge" ("The Last Things"); but the latter is now universally entitled "The Last Judgment," and the former was shelved by the composer himself shortly after its performance. His autobiography gives us some interesting details of each. After a concert-tour to Hamburg, Spohr returned to Gotha, and found there a letter from Bischoff, the Precentor of Frankenhausen, informing him that he had been commanded by the Governor of Erfurt to arrange a musical festival there in celebration of the birthday of Napoleon, August 15. He invited Spohr to assume its direction and to write an oratorio for the occasion. Previous to this a poet in Erfurt had offered him the text called "The Last Judgment," and Spohr determined to avail himself of it. He writes,--

"I sent for the libretto and set to work at once. But I soon felt that for the oratorio style I was yet too deficient in counterpoint and in fugueing. I therefore suspended my work in order to make the preliminary studies requisite for the subject. From one of my [284] pupils I borrowed Marpurg's 'Art of Fugue-writing,' and was soon deeply and continuously engaged in the study of that work. After I had written half a dozen fugues according to its instruction, the last of which seemed to me very successful, I resumed the composition of my oratorio, and completed it without allowing anything else to intervene. According to a memorandum I made, it was begun in January, 1812, and finished in June."