rger was born at Vaduz, in Lichtenstein, March 17,
1839, and displayed his musical talent at a very early age. He studied
the piano in his fifth year, and in his seventh was organist in the
church of his native place. At the age of twelve he entered the Munich
Conservatory, where he remained as a scholar until he was nineteen, when
he was appointed one of its teachers; at the same time he became organist
at the Hofkirche of St. Michael, and afterwards director of the Munich
Oratorio Society. In 1867 he was appointed professor and inspector of the
Royal Music School, and since 1877 has been the royal Hofkapellmeister,
directing the performances of the Kapellchor, an organization similar to
that of the Berlin Domchor. He is a very prolific composer, nearly two
hundred works having proceeded from his pen. Among them are the
"Wallenstein" and "Florentine" symphonies; a Stabat Mater; two operas,
"The Seven Ravens" and "Thuermer's Toechterlein;" incidental music to a
drama of Calderon's; a symphony-sonata for piano; a requiem for the dead
in the Franco-German war; theme and variations for string quartet; a
piano concerto; five organ sonatas; the choral works, "Toggenburg,"
"Klaerchen auf Eberstein," "Wittekind," and "Christophorus;" and a large
number of songs and church pieces, besides much chamber music.

Christophorus.

"Christophorus," a legend, as Rheinberger calls it, was written in 1879,
and is composed for barytone, soprano, and alto solos, chorus, and
orchestra. Its subject is taken from the familiar story of the giant who
bore the infant Christ across the flood. The chorus acts the part of
narrator, and in its opening number relates the legend of Christophorus'
wanderings and his arrival before the castle whose master he would serve.
He offers his services, but when they are accepted as an offering from
the gods he haughtily declares that he only serves "for fame and
chivalry." A voice thereupon in an impressive solo ("Trust not this
loud-voiced Stranger") warns him away as an envoy of Satan, and the
chorus repeats the warning. The giant departs with the intention of
drawing his sword in Satan's cause,--

"For he alone must be lord of all,
Whose name doth so valiant a monarch appall."

In a very picturesque number the chorus describes his wanderings among
the mountain crags and rocks where Satan weaves his spells about him; and
then suddenly changing to a tender, delicate strain