Bok was early attracted by the abilities of Josef Hofmann.  In 1898, he met the pianist, who was then twenty-two years old.  Of his musical ability Bok could not judge, but he was much impressed by his unusual mentality, and soon both learned and felt that Hofmann’s art was deeply and firmly rooted.  Hofmann had a wider knowledge of affairs than other musicians whom Bok had met; he had not narrowed his interests to his own art.  He was striving to achieve a position in his art, and, finding that he had literary ability, Bok asked him to write a reminiscent article on his famous master, Rubinstein.

This was followed by other articles; the publication of his new mazurka; still further articles; and then, in 1907, Bok offered him a regular department in the magazine and a salaried editorship on his staff.

Bok’s musical friends and the music critics tried to convince the editor that Hofmann’s art lay not so deep as Bok imagined; that he had been a child prodigy, and would end where all child prodigies invariably end—­opinions which make curious reading now in view of Hofmann’s commanding position in the world of music.  But while Bok lacked musical knowledge, his instinct led him to adhere to his belief in Hofmann; and for twelve years, until Bok’s retirement as editor, the pianist was a regular contributor to the magazine.  His success was, of course, unquestioned.  He answered hundreds of questions sent him by his readers, and these answers furnished such valuable advice for piano students that two volumes were made in book form and are to-day used by piano teachers and students as authoritative guides.

Meanwhile, Bok’s marriage had brought music directly into his domestic circle.  Mrs. Bok loved music, was a pianist herself, and sought to acquaint her husband with what his former training had omitted.  Hofmann and Bok had become strong friends outside of the editorial relation, and the pianist frequently visited the Bok home.  But it was some time, even with these influences surrounding him, before music began to play any real part in Bok’s own life.

He attended the opera occasionally; more or less under protest, because of its length, and because his mind was too practical for the indirect operatic form.  He could not remain patient at a recital; the effort to listen to one performer for an hour and a half was too severe a tax upon his restless nature.  The Philadelphia Orchestra gave a symphony concert each Saturday evening, and Bok dreaded the coming of that evening in each week for fear of being taken to hear music which he was convinced was “over his head.”