Part I.--Lamentations for the death of Mattathias (the father of Judas

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THE

Standard Oratorios

THEIR STORIES, THEIR MUSIC, AND THEIR COMPOSERS

_A Handbook_

BY GEORGE P. UPTON

CHICAGO

A. C. McCLURG AND COMPANY

1893

Copyright

By A. C. McClurg and Co.

A.D. 1886.

PREFACE.

The "Standard Oratorios" is intended as a companion to the "Standard

Operas;" and with this purpose in view the compiler has followed as

closely as possible the same method in the arrangement and presentation

of his scheme. The main object has been to present to the reader a

comprehensive sketch of the oratorios which may be called "standard,"

outlining the sacred stories which they tell, and briefly indicating and

sketching their principal numbers, accompanied in each case with a short

biography of the composer and such historical matter connected with the

various works as is of special interest. The compiler has also included

in his scheme a sketch of the origin and development of the Oratorio as

illustrated in its three principal evolutionary stages, together with

descriptions of several works which are not oratorios in the strict

sense, but at the same time are sacred compositions written upon a large

scale and usually performed by oratorio societies, such as Bach's

"Passion Music" and "Magnificat," Berlioz's, Mozart's, and Verdi's

Requiems, Mendelssohn's "Hymn of Praise," Handel's "Dettingen Te Deum,"

Schumann's "Paradise and the Peri," and Rubinstein's "Tower of Babel."

As in the case of the "Standard Operas," the work has been prepared for

the general public rather than for musicians, and as far as practicable,

technical terms have been avoided. Description, not criticism, has been

the purpose of the volume, and the various works are described as fully

as the necessarily brief space allotted to each would allow. The utmost

pains have been taken to secure historical and chronological accuracy,

inasmuch as these details are nearly always matters of controversy. The

favor which has been so generously accorded to the "Standard Operas"

leads the compiler to believe that the "Standard Oratorios" will also be

welcomed by those who enjoy the sacred music of the great masters, and

that it will prove a valuable addition to other works of musical

reference.

G. P. U.

Chicago, September, 1886.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

PREFACE 3

THE ORATORIO 9

BACH 31

Christmas Oratorio 33

The Saint Matthew Passion 39

The Magnificat in D 48

BEETHOVEN 51

The Mount of Olives 53

BENNETT 60

The Woman of Samaria 62

BERLIOZ 68

The Requiem 70

BRAHMS 78

The German Requiem 80

COSTA 82

Eli 84

DVORAK 90

The Stabat Mater 92

GOUNOD 96

The Redemption 98

Mors et Vita 106

HANDEL 114

Israel in Egypt 117

Saul 125

Samson 132

The Messiah 140

Judas Maccabaeus 149

The Dettingen Te Deum 155

HAYDN 159

The Creation 162

The Seasons 170

LISZT 177

Legend of the Holy Elizabeth 180

Christus 186

MACFARREN 191

St. John the Baptist 193

MACKENZIE 198

The Rose of Sharon 199

MENDELSSOHN 206

St. Paul 208

Hymn of Praise 213

Elijah 218

Christus 229

MOZART 234

Requiem 236

PAINE 245

St. Peter 246

ROSSINI 251

Stabat Mater 253

RUBINSTEIN 258

Tower of Babel 260

Paradise Lost 264

SAINT-SAENS 267

Christmas Oratorio 269

SCHUMANN 271

Paradise and the Peri 273

SPOHR 280

Last Judgment 283

SULLIVAN 290

The Prodigal Son 292

The Light of the World 294

VERDI 301

Manzoni Requiem 303

SACRED MUSIC IN AMERICA 309

APPENDIX 329

THE STANDARD ORATORIOS.

THE ORATORIO.

The oratorio in its modern form is a musical setting of a sacred story or

text in a style more or less dramatic. Its various parts are assigned to

the four solo voices and to single or double chorus, with accompaniment

of full orchestra, sometimes amplified by the organ. Like the opera, it

has its recitative, linking together and leading up to the various

numbers. The origin of the word is to be found in the "oratory," or place

of prayer, where these compositions were first performed. Crescimbeni,

one of the earliest musical writers, says: "The oratorio had its origin

from San Filippo Neri,[1] who, in his chapel, after sermons and other

devotions, in order to allure young people to pious offices, and to

detain them from earthly pleasures, had hymns, psalms, and such like

prayers sung by one or more voices." In tracing its evolutionary stages,

its root will be found in the moralities, mysteries, and miracle-plays of

the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, which were instituted for the

purpose of impressing Biblical events in symbolical form upon the early

converts to the Christian Church. These representations were entirely

dramatic in character, and their subjects, though always sacred, were

often grotesquely treated, and sometimes verged on buffoonery. Among the

actors, God, Christ, Satan, Mary, and the angels nearly always appeared;

later, the various virtues and vices were personified. The

representations were usually given in the streets or in fields, and

sometimes on the water. The highest dignitaries of the Church did not

disdain to act in these plays, nor did their promoters hesitate at times

to reduce the exhibition to the level of a Punch-and-Judy show by the

introduction of puppets cleverly manipulated. The earliest of these

miracle-plays in England were performed by the various London Companies.

The Tanners, for instance, produced the Fall of Lucifer. The Drapers

played the Creation, in which Adam and Eve appeared in their original

costume,--apparently without giving offence. The Water-Drawers naturally

chose the Deluge. In the scene describing the embarkation of Noah's

family, the patriarch has a great deal of trouble with his wife, who is

determined not to go aboard. She declares that if her worldly friends are

left behind, she will stay and drown with them, and he can

"Rowe forth away when thou liste,

And get thee another wif."

Noah expostulates with her in vain, grows furiously indignant, and bids

her

"Come in, wif, in twenty devill ways,

Or alles stand thee without."

Her friends the gossips entreat her to remain with them, and have a

carousal over a "pottel full of malmsey;" but at last Shem makes a virtue

of necessity and forces her into the ark, as the following scene shows:--

"In faith, moder, in ye shall,

Whither you will or noughte."

NOE.

"Well me wif into this boate."

[_She gives him a box on the ear._]

"Haue you that for thee note."

NOE.

"A le Mary this whote,

A childre methinks my boate remeues,

Our tarrying here heughly me grieues."

[_She is forced into the ark._]

The earliest of these representations, so far as has been discovered,

dates back to the twelfth century, and is known as the Feast of Asses. In

these exhibitions, Balaam, superbly habited and wearing an enormous pair

of spurs, rode a wooden ass, in which the speaker was concealed. The ass

and the devil were favorite characters. The former sometimes appeared in

monkish garb and brayed responses to the intonations of the priests,

while the latter, arrayed in fantastic costumes, seems to have been the

prototype of clown in the pantomime. As late as 1783 the buffoonery of

this kind of exhibition continued. An English traveller, describing a

mystery called the "Creation" which he saw at Bamberg in that year,

says:--

"Young priests had the wings of geese tied on their shoulders to

personate angels. Adam appeared on the scene in a big curled wig and

brocaded morning-gown. Among the animals that passed before him to

receive their names were a well-shod horse, pigs with rings in their

noses, and a mastiff with a brass collar. A cow's rib-bone had been

provided for the formation of Eve; but the mastiff spied it out,

grabbed it, and carried it off. The angels tried to whistle him back;

but not succeeding, they chased him, gave him a kicking, and recovered

the bone, which they placed under a trap-door by the side of the

sleeping Adam, whence there soon emerged a lanky priest in a loose

robe, to personate Eve."

The buffoonery and profanity of the early exhibitions, however, gradually

wore away when the Church assumed the monopoly of them and forbade

secular performances. Among the earlier works Burney cites the

following:--

"The 'Conversion of St. Paul,' performed at Rome, 1440, as described by

Sulpicius, has been erroneously called the first opera, or musical

drama. 'Abram et Isaac suo Figliuolo,' a sacred drama (_azione sacra_),

'showing how Abraham was commanded by God to sacrifice his son Isaac on

the mountain,' was performed in the Church of St. Mary Magdalen in

Florence, 1449. Another on the same subject, called 'Abraham and

Sarah,' 'containing the good life of their son Isaac, and the bad

conduct of Ishmael, the son of his handmaid, and how they were turned

out of the house,' was printed in 1556; 'Abel e Caino,' and 'Samson,'

1554; 'The Prodigal Son,' 1565; and 'La Commedia Spirituale dell'

Anima' ('The Spiritual Comedy of the Soul'), printed at Siena, without

date, in which there are near thirty personifications, besides Saint

Paul, Saint John Chrysostom, two little boys who repeat a kind of

prelude, and the announcing angel, who always speaks the prologue in

these old mysteries. He is called _l'angelo che nunzia_, and his figure

is almost always given in a wooden cut on the title-page of printed

copies. Here, among the interlocutors, we have God the Father, Michael

the archangel, a chorus of angels, the Human Soul with her guardian

angel, memory, intellect, free-will, faith, hope, charity, reason,

prudence, temperance, fortitude, justice, mercy, poverty, patience, and

humility; with hatred, infidelity, despair, sensuality, a chorus of

demons, and the devil. None of these mysteries are totally without

music, as there are choruses and _laudi_, or hymns, that are sung in

them all, and sometimes there was playing on instruments between the

acts. In a play written by Damiano and printed at Siena, 1519,

according to Crescimbeni, at the beginning of every act there was an

octave stanza, which was sung to the sound of the lyra viol by a

personage called Orpheus, who was solely retained for that purpose; at

other times a madrigal was sung between the acts, after the manner of a

chorus."

It was not until the time when San Filippo Neri began his dramatization

and performance of Biblical stories, such as "The Good Samaritan," "The

Prodigal Son," and "Tobias and the Angels," accompanied with music

written by his friend Giovanni Animuccia, that the term "Oratorio" came

to be accepted as the distinctive title of these sacred musical dramas.

His productions were very crudely and hastily arranged, his only purpose

having been to render his service attractive. After his death, however,

in 1595, his work was continued by Emilio del Cavaliere, a Roman

composer, who produced the first real oratorio which had as yet appeared.

It was entitled "La Rappresentazione dell' Anima e del Corpo" ("The Soul

and the Body"), and was first performed in February, 1600, in the oratory

of the Church of Santa Maria della Vallicella at Rome. Burney assigns to

it the credit of being "the first sacred drama or oratorio in which

recitative was used." The characters were Time, Human Life, the World,

Pleasure, the Intellect, the Soul, the Body, and two youths who were to

recite the prologue. The orchestra was composed of a double lyre, a

harpsichord, a large or double guitar, and two flutes. The composer has

left some curious instructions for the performance of his work; among

them the following:--

"Pleasure, an imaginary character, with two companions, are to have

instruments in their hands, on which they are to play while they sing

and perform the ritornels.

"Il Corpo, the Body, when these words are uttered, 'Si che hormai alma

mia,' etc., may throw away some of his ornaments, as his gold collar,

feather from his hat, etc.

"The World, and Human Life in particular, are to be gayly and richly

dressed; and when they are divested of their trappings, to appear very

poor and wretched, and at length dead carcases."

The ballet played a prominent part in all the early oratorios, and the

composer has also left detailed instructions for its guidance. During the

ritornels the four principal dancers accompanied them in "a ballet

enlivened with capers," and at the close of the performance stanzas were

sung, alternating with dances to be executed "sedately and

reverentially."

Emilio del Cavaliere was followed by a long line of Italian oratorio

composers who contributed to amplify and enrich this form of composition.

Among the earliest of these writers were Carissimi, Stradella, Scarlatti,

Mazzocchi, Federici, Pistocchi, Caldara, and Colonna. Carissimi perfected

the recitative and invested the music with more importance, giving it

something like equal rank with the dramatic character of the composition.

It was during his time that the personage known as "Historicus" was

introduced, who continued the action with explanatory passages between

the numbers,--a modern illustration of which may be found in the

"Narrator," as used by Gounod in his "Redemption." Carissimi employed

this expedient, and made it very effective. It is also claimed that he

was the first to introduce the cantata as a form of church music, and the

accompaniment of violins in motet performances. His most famous oratorios

are "Jephte," "Abraham et Isaac," "Le Jugement Dernier," and "Judicium

Salomonis." Of the first named, Hawkins says: "It consists of recitative,

airs, and chorus; and for sweetness of melody, artful modulation, and

original harmony, is justly esteemed one of the finest efforts of musical

skill and genius that the world knows of." Stradella, whose romantic

history is familiar to every one, is chiefly remembered by his attachment

for Hortensia, the vengeance of the Venetian lover which followed them so

long, and the song which saved the composer's life from the assassins.

This song was from his own oratorio, "St. John the Baptist," first

performed in the Church of St. John Lateran at Rome. Burney, who examined

the score, says: "The recitative is in general excellent, and there is

scarce a movement among the airs in which genius, skill, and study do not

appear." He also observes that this oratorio is the first work in which

the proper sharps and flats are generally placed at the clef. Scarlatti,

born in 1659, was a composer of great originality, as well as

versatility. He has left, in addition to his numerous operas and

cantatas, several oratorios, the most famous of which are "I Dolori di

Maria sempre Vergine," "Il Sagrifizio d' Abramo," "Il Martirio di Santa

Teodosia," and "La Concezzione della beata Vergine." He gave to the

oratorio more breadth, boldness, and dignity of style, improved the form

of the aria, made the accompanied recitative more dramatic, and developed

the treatment of several instruments, among them the trumpet, whose real

beauty and effect he was the first to bring out. Mazzocchi is chiefly

known by his oratorio, "Querimonia," produced in Rome in 1631, which is

said to have drawn tears from all who heard it. Federici wrote two

oratorios, "Santa Cristina," and "Santa Caterina de Sienna," in both of

which "interstitial" accompaniment is used for the first time; that is,

the violins, instead of accompanying the voice, repeat portions of the

melody in short symphonies. Pistocchi was one of the most prominent

stage-singers of his time, and established a school of singing at

Bologna. His most famous oratorio is entitled "Maria Vergine addolerata,"

and is without overture or chorus. Burney notes that in the close of this

work degrees of diminution of sound, such as "piano," "piu piano," and

"pianissimo," are used for the first time. Caldara wrote a large number

of oratorios, mostly adapted to the poetry of Zeno and Metastasio, which

are said to have been delightful productions. Colonna, who was a

contemporary of Stradella, but not so famous, has left one oratorio, "St.

Basil," which is highly praised. Bononcini also, who afterwards became a

rival of Handel in England, wrote several oratorios before he went to

that country, the best of which is entitled "San Girolamo della Carita."

The conclusion of this period brings us to the second stage in the

evolution of the oratorio; namely, the passion-music, which may be

regarded as the connecting link between the earlier form as developed by

the Italian composers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and the

oratorio as it appeared after it had felt the mighty influence of Handel.

The passion-music was the direct outgrowth of the passion-play. It

portrayed the passion of Christ. Its earliest forms are found in the

"Passio secundum Matthaeum" by Stephani, a Nuremberg composer who

flourished in the sixteenth century; in a hymn-book published in 1573 by

Keuchental; and in Selenica's hymn-book, which appeared in 1587. Heinrich

Schuetz, however, was the first to establish the passion-music in genuine

oratorio form. He was born in 1585, and died in 1672. The pupil of an

Italian master, the famous Gabrielli of Venice, he retained the Italian

forms, but added to them his native German force and solidity. His most

prominent work, "Die Auferstehung Christi," first performed at Dresden in

1623, where he was chapel-master to the Elector George I., is regarded as

the foundation of the German oratorio. The passion-music was usually

assigned to three priests, one of whom recited or intoned the part of

Jesus, the second that of the evangelist, and the third the other parts,

while the chorus served for the "turbae," or people. In Schuetz's music,

however, the narrative is given to a chorus of evangelists, the

accompaniment being performed by four viole di gamba and organ. There is

also a wide departure from all his predecessors in the entire absence of

dramatic action. His first work was followed by another, entitled "Die

sieben Worte Christi" ("The Seven Words of Christ"),--a subject which

Haydn subsequently treated with powerful effect,--and four different

compositions on the passion of our Lord. In these works are to be found

the real germs of the modern oratorio; they were preparing the way for

Handel and Bach. Johann Sebastiani succeeded Schuetz, and in 1672

published a passion-music, in which the narrative appears in recitative

form and solidly harmonized chorales are used,--with this peculiarity,

that only the treble was sung, the other voices being taken by the

strings. In 1673 still another passion, written by Theile, was produced

at Luebeck. From this time until 1704 there appears to be a gap in the

sequence of works of this kind.

In the latter year, however, two more were produced, which made a

sensation all over Germany, "The Bleeding and Dying Jesus," by Reinhard

Keiser, and the "Passion nach Cap. 19 S. Johannis" by Handel. In the

former, cantatas were substituted for the narrative and chorales, one of

the numbers being in the nature of a love-song,--an innovation upon the

established forms which brought down upon the composer the indignation of

the critics both in the pulpit and out of it. The passion-music of Handel

was but a weak prelude to the colossal works which were to follow from

his pen. Between 1705 and 1718 several other passions appeared, written

by Keiser, Handel, Telemann, and Mattheson, preparing the way for the two

composers who above all others were destined to develop the chorale and

make it not only the foundation, but the all-pervading idea of their

passions; they were Carl Heinrich Graun and Johann Sebastian Bach. The

former's greatest work, "Der Tod Jesu," was produced in Berlin in 1755,

and was a revelation in the matter of chorale treatment. Nothing which

had preceded it could equal it in musical skill or artistic handling. But

there was one coming greater than Graun, the father of modern music,

Johann Sebastian Bach. "If all the music written since Bach's time should

be lost," says Gounod, "it could be reconstructed on the foundations

which he laid." Besides his "Christmas Oratorio," Bach wrote five passion

oratorios, two of which, the "St. John" and "St. Matthew," have been

published and are still performed. Of these two, the "St. Matthew" was

conceived on the grander scale. In this sublime masterpiece, the early

oratorio reached its highest form in Germany. It contains a narration

delivered by an evangelist, solo parts for the principal characters,

arias, choruses, double choruses, and chorales, the congregation joining

in the latter, in which the composer not only reveals an astonishing

dramatic power in the expression of sentiment and the adaptation of his

music to the feeling and situation of the characters, but also a depth

and accuracy of musical skill and invention which have been the despair

of composers from that time to this.

With Bach, the passion-music accomplished its purpose, and we now enter

upon the third and last stage of the evolution of oratorio. It is a new

form, and the change leads us to a new country. We have examined the

sacred dramas, with their musical setting, in Italy, and the

passion-music in Germany; and now comes the oratorio in England,--the

oratorio as we know it and hear it to-day. Handel was its great

originator. He began his English career as an operatic writer; but he

soon tired of setting music to the trivial subjects so common in opera,

which, as he himself declared, were not suited to a composer advancing in

years. There were other inducements, however, which led him to turn to

the oratorio, and among them one of the most powerful unquestionably was

his disgust with the cabals which were organized against him by Italian

rivals. "Esther" was his first English oratorio, and it made a great

success. It was followed by "Deborah" and "Athalia." His vigorous

dramatic power and close musical scholarship were never more apparent

than in these works. They aroused such an enthusiasm that from this time

forth (1737) he devoted himself exclusively to this species of

composition. He wrote in all seventeen English oratorios. In 1739 he

produced "Saul," one of the most dramatic of his sacred works, and the

colossal "Israel in Egypt." In 1741 he began "The Messiah," the most

sublime of all his oratorios and one of the profoundest works of human

genius in music. It still holds its place upon the stage as one of the

grandest expressions of human aspiration and divine truth, and no

Christmas is complete without its performance. Other works followed it,

among them "Samson," "Joseph," "Belshazzar," "Judas Maccabaeus," "Joshua,"

and "Theodora," which Handel considered his best work; but none of them

equalled "The Messiah," in which his genius reached its climax. Of those

last named, only "Samson" and "Judas Maccabaeus" still hold their place in

the modern repertory, though the other oratorios mentioned contain many

of his most effective numbers.

While Handel was writing in England, the oratorio languished in Germany.

Hasse, Porpora, and Fux produced several oratorios, but they have not

left an impression upon the world. Handel died in 1759. It was not until

1798 that a successor appeared worthy to wear his mantle. That successor

was Joseph Haydn, whose greatest work, "The Creation," rivals "The

Messiah" in its popularity. He was in his seventieth year when he

produced it, as well as his delightful work, "The Seasons;" but "Papa"

Haydn, as his countrymen love to call him, preserved the freshness of

youth to the very last. The melodies of his old age are as delicious as

those of his youth. Both these oratorios are exquisite pictures of

nature, as well as of human and divine love. They were inspired by

Handel's oratorios (which he heard for the first time when he visited

London in 1791), and when first performed aroused as great enthusiasm,

though they are not cast in the same heroic mould as are "The Messiah"

and "Israel in Egypt." They are characterized rather by grace, sweetness,

and elegance of form, and by pure, healthy music. Haydn was a master of

instrumentation, as he had shown years before in the string quartet, of

which he was the creator, and in his almost innumerable symphonies,--he

being the originator of the modern symphony. He had had the advantage of

a magnificent orchestra while in service at Prince Esterhazy's, and the

results are seen in the orchestral resources which he employs in his

oratorios. During this period several Italian oratorios by Salieri,

Zingarelli, and Cimarosa appeared, as well as oratorios in the same style

by the German composers Himmel and Winter. In 1803 Beethoven wrote his

only oratorio, "Christ on the Mount of Olives." This production has not

attained to the popularity of his instrumental works or of his single

opera, "Fidelio," in part because it is not in pure oratorio form, and in

part because of its wretched libretto. Schubert, contemporary with

Beethoven, also undertook an oratorio on the subject of "Lazarus;" but it

was never completed, and the fragment even was not heard until 1863.

The first really successful oratorio of the present century was "Das

juengste Gericht" ("The Last Judgment"), by Spohr, which was produced

under his own supervision at Erfurt in 1812. This oratorio, however, the

work of his earlier years, was but the prelude to his masterpiece, "Die

letzten Dinge" ("The Last Things"), which is now commonly known as "The

Last Judgment," and was first performed at Cassel in 1826. Nine years

later he brought out "Des Heiland's letzte Stunden" ("The Saviour's Last

Hours," now known as "Calvary"), and still later, "The Fall of Babylon,"

which he produced for the first time in England in 1843; but neither of

these are constructed upon the grand proportions which characterize "Die

letzten Dinge," or so well illustrate the profound musical knowledge of

the great violinist. Contemporary with Spohr was Schneider, an unusually

prolific writer, who produced no less than sixteen oratorios in a period

of twenty-eight years, in addition to a large number of operas. Though

his oratorios were very popular at the time, but one of them has

survived, the "Weltgericht," written in 1819. Among other contemporaries

were Lindpaintner, whose "Abraham" was very successful,--though this

composer is now remembered only by his orchestral pieces,--and Klein, who

brought out two oratorios, "Jephthah" (1828) and "David" (1830), which

were greatly admired, though they are now almost unknown.

Spohr had easily held his place in the first rank of the oratorio

composers of his time, but was eclipsed when Mendelssohn appeared, as

were all his contemporaries. This gifted composer had studied Handel and

Bach very closely. In 1829 he brought out the latter's "St. Matthew"

passion-music after it had lain concealed for an entire century. He

aroused enthusiasm for the two old masters both in Germany and England.

His "St. Paul," first produced at Duesseldorf in 1836, was greeted with

acclamations of enthusiasm, and still holds its place in the popular

regard. Ten years later his greatest work, "Elijah," was performed in

England. Though widely different in form and treatment from "The

Messiah," it shares equally with that work in the enjoyment of popular

favor. Its numbers are almost as familiar as household words, through

constant repetition not only upon the oratorio stage, but in the

concert-room and choir-loft. In the presentation of the personalities

concerned in the progress of the work, in descriptive power, in the

portrayal of emotion and passion, and in genuine lyrical force, "Elijah"

has many of the attributes of opera, and some critics have not hesitated

to call it a sacred opera. Indeed, there can be no question that with

costume, scenery, and the aids of general stage-setting, its effect would

be greatly enhanced. Mendelssohn began still a third oratorio,

"Christus," but did not live to complete it. His "Lobgesang" ("Hymn of

Praise"), a symphony-cantata, is usually given as an oratorio, though it

is not in the genuine oratorio form. Contemporary with him and since his

death numerous oratorios have been written, more or less inspired by his

work; but "Elijah" and "St. Paul" still remain unsurpassed. Robert

Schumann gave the world a delightful oratorio with a secular subject,

"Paradise and the Peri." Numerous English composers have produced

meritorious works, among them Sterndale Bennett, whose "Woman of Samaria"

is thoroughly devotional. In Germany, Hiller, Rheinthaler, and others

have made successful essays in this form of musical art. In France,

Massenet and Saint-Saens have written short one-part oratorios, and

Gounod has constructed two, "The Redemption" and "Mors et Vita," upon the

old classical form, so far as division is concerned, and is now at work

upon a third, of which Joan of Arc is the theme. In "The Tower of Babel"

and "Paradise Lost," Rubinstein has given us works which are certainly

larger in design than the cantata, and are entitled to be called

oratorios. In our own country, Professor Paine, of Harvard University,

has written one oratorio, "St. Peter," which commands attention for its

scholarly work and musical treatment. Mendelssohn and Spohr, however,

represent the nineteenth century of oratorio as Haydn, Handel, and Bach

did the eighteenth. Who will take the next step forward in the twentieth,

and give to this noblest form of musical art still higher expression?

Before closing this sketch, it will not be out of place to refer briefly

to the Requiem, Te Deum, Stabat Mater, and Magnificat, since

illustrations of these musical forms appear in the body of the work.

"Requiem" is the name given to the "Missa pro Defunctis" ("Mass for the

Dead"), and comes from the first word of the Introit, "Requiem aeternam

dona eis, Domine." Its musical divisions are as follows: (1) Introit; (2)

the Kyrie; (3) the Gradual and Tract,--"Requiem aeternam" and "Absolve

Domine;" (4) the Sequence or Prose,--"Dies Irae;" (5) Offertorium; (6)

Sanctus; (7) Benedictus; (8) Agnus Dei; (9) Communio,--"Lux aeterna." The

most famous requiems are Palestrina's, written for five voices, but left

incomplete (1595); Vittoria's, for six voices, written for the funeral of

the Empress Marie, widow of Maximilian II. (1605); Colonna's, for eight

voices (1684); Mozart's great masterpiece (1791); Cherubini's in C minor,

written for the anniversary of the death of Louis XVI., 1793, and a

second for three male voices (1836); Berlioz's "Messe des Morts;" Verdi's

"Manzoni Requiem," and Brahms' "German Requiem." Though an integral part

of the Roman service, appointed for a special day in commemoration of the

dead, the Requiem is also employed for the anniversaries of distinguished

persons who have passed away, as well as for funeral occasions.

The Stabat Mater, or Lamentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the

well-known Latin hymn on the Crucifixion, is one of the most familiar

numbers in the Roman Missal. It is appointed to be sung at High Mass on

the Friday in Passion Week, and also on the third Sunday in September. On

Thursday in Holy Week it is also sung in the Sistine Chapel as an

Offertorium. The poem was written by the monk Jacobus de Benedictis in

the thirteenth century, and is regarded as one of the finest of mediaeval

sacred lyrics. Grove says of it: "Several readings are extant; the one

most frequently set to music being that which immediately preceded its

last revision in the Roman Office-Books. There are also at least four

distinct versions of its plain-chant melody, apart from minor differences

attributable to local usage." It has always been a favorite hymn with the

composers. The most famous settings are those of Josquin des Pres; two by

Palestrina,--the first, which is the most effective, for a double choir

of eight voices, and the second for a triple choir of twelve voices; that

by Pergolesi for soprano and contralto; Haydn's, which is in his

peculiarly melodious style; Steffani's for six voices; those by Clari,

Astorga, Winter, Racimondi, Vito, Lanza, Inzenga, and Neukomm; Rossini's,

which is the best known of all; and Dvorak's, written in 1881, which is

one of the Bohemian composer's finest efforts. Few hymns have been so

variously treated, and, it may be added, few in the Roman service are

more popular.

The "Te Deum Laudamus" is another familiar hymn. Its origin is doubtful,

though it is usually credited to Saint Ambrose. L'Estrange, in his

"Alliance of Divine Offices," says: "The Te Deum was made by a bishop of

Triers, named Nicetius, or Nicettus, about the year 500, which was almost

a century after the death both of Saint Ambrose and Saint Augustine."

Bingham, in his "Antiquities of the Church," says: "The Benedictines, who

published the works of Saint Ambrose, judge him not to have been the

author of it; and Dr. Cave, though at one time he was of a different

judgment, and Bishop Stillingfleet, concur in the opinion that the Te

Deum was not the composition of Saint Ambrose, or of him and Saint

Augustine jointly." Hawkins also says: "The zeal of Saint Ambrose to

promote psalm-singing is in nothing more conspicuous than in his

endeavors to reduce it into form and method; as a proof whereof, it is

said that he, jointly with Saint Augustine, upon occasion of the

conversion and baptism of the latter, composed the hymn Te Deum Laudamus,

which even now makes a part of the liturgy of our Church, and caused it

to be sung in his church at Milan. But this has been discovered to be a

mistake. This, however, is certain,--that he instituted that method of

singing known by the name of the Cantus Ambrosianus, or Ambrosian Chant,

a name, for aught that now appears, not applicable to any determined

series of notes, but invented to express in general a method of singing

agreeable to some rule given or taught by him." In spite of controversy,

however, the Te Deum is still and will always be known as the "Ambrosian

Hymn." The original melody is very ancient, but not so old as the hymn

itself. It is thoroughly familiar in the Roman Church, though the number

of settings for Church use is almost endless. The early composers

harmonized it in various forms. It has also borne a conspicuous part on

festival occasions. The most celebrated Te Deums of this character,

arranged for solos, chorus, organ, and orchestra, are those of Sarti, to

commemorate Prince Potemkin's victory at Otchakous; of Graun, to

celebrate the battle of Prague; of Berlioz, for two choirs; of Purcell,

for St. Cecilia's Day; of Dr. Blow and Dr. Croft, with accompaniments of

two violins, two trumpets, and bass; and the magnificent Utrecht and

Dettingen Te Deums of Handel. Among those by contemporary writers are

Macfarren's, written in 1884, and Sullivan's, commemorating the recovery

of the Prince of Wales.

The Magnificat, or Song of the Virgin, is part of the vesper service of

the Church, and has been treated by all the old Church composers of

prominence both in plain chant and in polyphonic form. In the English

cathedral service it is often richly harmonized, and Bach, Mozart,

Handel, Mendelssohn and others have set it in oratorio style with

complete orchestral accompaniment.

[1] Born at Florence in the year 1515, and famous as the founder of the

Congregation of the Fathers of the Oratory.

BACH.

Johann Sebastian Bach, the most eminent of the world's organ-players and

contrapuntists, was born at Eisenach, March 21, 1685, and was the most

illustrious member of a long line of musicians, the Bach family having

been famous almost from time immemorial for its skill in music. He first

studied the piano with his brother, Johann Christoph, and the organ with

Reinecke in Hamburg, and Buxtehude in Luebeck. In 1703 he was court

musician in Weimar, and afterwards was engaged as organist in Arnstadt

and Muehlhausen. In 1708 he was court organist, and in 1714 concert-master

in Weimar. In 1718 he was chapel-master to the Prince von Koethen, and in

1723 was appointed music-director and cantor at the St. Thomas School in

Leipsic,--a position which he held during the remainder of his life. He

has left for the admiration of posterity an almost endless list of vocal

and instrumental works, including chorales, motets, magnificats, masses,

fugues, and fantasies, especially for organ and piano, the "Christmas

Oratorio," and several settings of the passion, of which the most famous

are the "St. John" and "St. Matthew," the latter of which Mendelssohn

introduced to the world in 1829, after it had slumbered an entire

century. His most famous instrumental work is the "Well-tempered

Clavichord,"--a collection of forty-eight fugues and preludes, which was

written for his second wife, Anna Magdalena Bach, to whom also he

dedicated a large number of piano pieces and songs. His first wife was

his cousin, Maria Barbara Bach, the youngest daughter of Johann Michael

Bach, a composer of no common ability. By these two wives he had

twenty-one children, of whom the most celebrated were Carl Phillipp

Emanuel, born in 1714, known as the "Berlin Bach;" Johann Christoph

Friedrich, born in 1732, the "Buecheburger Bach;" and Johann Christian,

born in 1735, who became famous as the "London Bach." Large as the family

was, it is now extinct. Bach was industrious, simple, honest, and

God-fearing, like all his family. He was an incessant and laborious

writer from necessity, as his compensation was hardly sufficient to

maintain his large family, and nearly all his music was prepared for the

service of the church by contract. The prominent characteristics of his

work are profound knowledge, the clearest statements of form, strength of

logical sequences, imposing breadth, and deep religious sentiment. He was

a favorite of Frederick the Great, who upon one occasion made all his

courtiers stand on one side and do homage to the illustrious composer.

"There is but one Bach," said the monarch. With all Bach's amiable

qualities, it is said that he had a hasty temper. While playing one day,

Goerner, the organist at St. Thomas, struck a false chord; whereupon Bach

flew at him in a passion, tore off his wig and threw it at him,

exclaiming: "You ought to have been a cobbler, instead of an organist!"

Notwithstanding this infirmity of temper, he was a deeply religious man,

and inscribed upon every one of his principal compositions "S. D. G.,"

"to the glory of God alone." He died July 28, 1750, and was buried at

Leipsic; but no cross or stone marks the spot where he lies. His last

composition was the beautiful chorale, "Wenn wir in hoechsten Noethen

sein," freely translated, "When my last hour is close at hand," as it was

written in his last illness. The only record of his death is contained in

the official register: "A man, aged 67, M. Johann Sebastian Bach, musical

director and singing-master at the St. Thomas School, was carried to his

grave in the hearse, July 30, 1750."

The Christmas Oratorio.

The "Christmas Oratorio" was written by Bach in 1734, the subject being

taken from texts in Luke and Matthew pertaining to the nativity. It is

not, as its name would suggest, a work to be performed at a single

hearing, but a composition divided into six parts of divine service,

arranged for the three days of Christmas, New Year's Day, New Year's

Sunday, and the Epiphany, each part being a complete cantata for each

day, and all linked together by chorales which give it a unity of subject

and design. Like Wagner's "Ring der Nibelungen," it was given in

instalments, each part separate and complete in itself, and yet combining

to illustrate a given subject in its entirety. It is not an oratorio in

the modern sense; but the justification of its appellation as such is to

be found in Bach's own title, "Oratorium Tempore Navitatis Christi."

As the entire six parts are very rarely given, a general review of their

character will better suit the reader's purpose than a detailed review of

each. When it has been performed in this country, only the first two

parts have been given; while in England, though it has been presented

entire, the performance is usually confined to the first three, which

contain a complete story. The entire vocal score embraces no less than

sixty-four numbers,--which in itself constitutes a sufficient reason for

abridgment. In the first three parts the connecting narratives, recited

by the evangelist, are assigned to tenor and bass, and declare the events

associated with the birth of our Lord,--the journey to Bethlehem, the

birth in the manger, the joy of Mary, and the thanksgiving over the

advent of the Lord,--the choral parts being sung by the shepherds. The

fourth part, that for New Year's Day, relates the naming of Jesus, and

follows his career in a grand expression of faith and hope. The fifth

part illustrates the visit of the three kings, the anxiety of Herod when

he hears of the advent of the Lord, and the assurances given him to allay

his fears. In the sixth section the visitors depart to frustrate Herod's

designs, and choruses of rejoicing over the final triumph of the Lord

close the work. In his voluminous life of Bach, Spitta makes an

exhaustive analysis of the various parts, an abridgment of which will be

of interest in this connection.

The only variation from the particular character of each section is to be

found in the introduction of the first chorale in Part I. at the close of

Part VI., in the form of a brilliant choral fantasia.

"In the first three the Christmas feeling prevails most vividly; this

is effected in great measure by the chorales which are interspersed in

far greater numbers than in the last three, and which are almost all

familiar Christmas hymns. Most of them are simply set in four parts,

with highly ingenious applications of the church modes."

The first and second parts close with chorales, but in the third the

opening chorus is repeated at the close.

"Part IV. has least of the character of church festival music. The

Biblical matter consists of a single verse from the Gospel of Saint

Luke, ii. 21, which relates the circumcision and naming of Jesus. Not

much material could be worked out of this, and Bach has almost

entirely set aside all adjuncts from the liturgy. No Christmas hymn,

indeed no true chorale, is introduced in it.... This section,

therefore, bears more strongly the stamp merely of a religious

composition; it is full of grace and sweetness, and can only have

derived its full significance for congregational use from its position

in context with the rest of the work."

Parts V. and VI., devoted to the history of the three kings, are in no

respect inferior to the first three.

"The lyrical choruses are full of artistic beauty and swing. The

cantata character is more conspicuous here than in the first three

sections, and the specially Christmas feeling resides more in the

general tone of the music than in the chorales."

Bitter, in his life of Bach, gives the following interesting sketch of

the origin of some of the numbers contained in the work:--

"In some parts of this music Bach borrowed from former compositions of

his own, especially from a 'Drama per Musica,' dedicated to the Queen

of Poland, and a drama entitled 'The Choice of Hercules,' composed in

1733 for a Saxon prince. The old hymn-tune, 'O Haupt voll Blut und

Wunden,' composed A.D. 1600 (by Hans Geo. Hassler to a secular tune),

and used by Bach five times to different words in the

'Matthaeus-Passion,' is again used in this oratorio to the words of Paul

Gerhard's Advent hymn, 'Wie soll ich dich empfangen,' and to the hymn

of triumph, 'Nun seid ihr wohl gerochen,' at the end of the last part.

As this tune was familiar to the hearers in connection with a hymn for

Passion Week, its adaptation to Advent and Christmas hymns seems

intended to express a presentiment at the time of Christ's birth of his

future sufferings. The same tune is now used in the German Church to a

number of different hymns, especially to 'Herzlich thut mich verlangen'

and 'Befiehl du deine Wege,' and is in some tune-books called by one or

other of these names. 'Befiehl du deine Wege' is one of the hymns to

which Bach has set it in the 'Matthaeus-Passion.' In the first part of

the oratorio we find two verses of Luther's Christmas hymn, 'Gelobet

seist du Jesu Christ;' first, the verse beginning 'Er ist auf Erden

kommen arm,' to the tune Luther composed for it, and the verse 'Ach,

mein herzliebes Jesulein,' to the tune (also of Luther's composition),

'Von Himmel hoch da komm ich her.' This last-mentioned tune is also

used twice in the second part, to the words 'Schaut hin, dort liegt im

finstern Stalle,' and 'Wir singen dir in deinem Heer,' arranged

differently each time. The chorales, 'Jesus, richte mein Beginnen,' in

the fourth part, and 'Dein Glanz all Finsterniss verzehrt,' in the

fifth part, are probably Bach's own compositions."

The first two parts of the work are the only ones which need special

notice for the purposes of the oratorio-goer. The first part opens with a

brilliant prelude, introduced by the drum, which Bach, like Beethoven,

sometimes treated as a solo instrument. It preludes the narrative bidding

Zion prepare to meet her Lord,--a simple, touching melody, followed by

the chorale, "How shall I fitly meet Thee and give Thee welcome due," set

to the old passion-hymn, "O Haupt, voll Blut und Wunden,"--a solemn and

even mournful melody, which at first appears incongruous in the midst of

so much jubilation. It is the same melody which Bach frequently uses in

different harmonic forms in his "St. Matthew Passion." It is introduced

here in the midst of the Christmas festivity for a special purpose.

Bitter gives it the following significance:--

"We see the Angel of Death unveil his pale face, bend over the cradle

of the Lord, and foretell his sorrows. The Child hears the song which

one day, sung to other words, will be his death-song."

The composer's evident intention was to impress the hearer with the fact

that the object of the divine advent on earth was the passion of our

Lord. At the close of the work the same chorale appears, but it has

another meaning. It is there an exultant expression of Christ's victory

over sin and death. As the chorale dies away, the narrative is resumed,

leading up to another chorale, "For us to earth he cometh poor," combined

with an orchestral symphony and bass recitative. The next number is a

bass aria with trumpet accompaniment, "Lord Almighty, King all glorious,"

and is followed by a chorale set to the words of Martin Luther's

Christmas hymn, which also occurs in other parts of the work, differently

harmonized to suit the nature of the situation, with which the first part

closes.

The second part opens with one of the most delightful instances of Bach's

orchestration, a pastoral symphony, with which the Thomas orchestra have

made audiences familiar in this country. Like the symphony of the same

style in Handel's "Messiah," it is simple, graceful, and idyllic in

character, and pictures the shepherds watching their flocks by night on

the plains of Bethlehem. At its conclusion the evangelist resumes his

narrative, followed by the chorale: "Break forth, O beauteous, heavenly

Light," preluding the announcement of the angel, "Behold, I bring you

Good Tidings." It is followed by the bass recitative, "What God to

Abraham revealed, He to the Shepherds doth accord to see fulfilled," and

a brilliant aria for tenor, "Haste, ye Shepherds, haste to meet Him." The

evangelist gives them the sign, followed by the chorale which closed the

first part, in another form, "Within yon Gloomy Manger lies." The bass

recitative, "O haste ye then," preludes the exquisite cradle-song for

alto, "Sleep, my Beloved, and take Thy Repose,"--a number which can

hardly be excelled in the sweetness and purity of its melody or in the

exquisiteness of its instrumentation. This lovely song brings us to the

close, which is an exultant shout from the multitude of the heavenly

host, singing, "Glory to God in the highest."

The Saint Matthew Passion.

The passion-music of Bach's time, as we have already seen, was the

complement of the mysteries of Mediaeval days. It portrays the sufferings

of Christ, and was performed at church festivals, the congregation taking

part in the singing of the chorales, which were mostly familiar religious

folk-songs. It was a revival of the sacred drama in musical form, and the

immediate precursor of the modern oratorio. Bach wrote five

passions,--the "St. John," probably written in 1723, and first performed

in the following year; another, which has been lost, in 1725; the "St.

Matthew," in 1729; the "St. Mark," in 1731; and the "St. Luke," in 1734.

Of these only two are now known,--the "St. John" and "St. Matthew;" of

which the latter is incomparably the greatest.

Macfarren, in his sketch of the "Matthew Passion," says that the idea of

this form of composition was first suggested to Bach by Solomon Deyling,

who filled an important church position in Leipsic when the composer went

there to assume his duties as cantor of the St. Thomas School, his

purpose being to introduce into the Reformed Church a service which

should be a counter attraction to the Mass as performed in the Roman

Church. It was produced for the first time at the afternoon service on

Good Friday, 1729, but was not heard again until the young Mendelssohn

revived it in Berlin, March 12, 1829. It was frequently repeated in

Germany and aroused extraordinary enthusiasm, and still keeps its place

in the festival oratorio repertory, the necessary additional

accompaniments having been furnished by Robert Franz.

The passion is written in two parts, between which the sermon intervened

in old times. It includes portions of chapters xxvi. and xxvii. of the

Gospel according to Saint Matthew, the remainder of the text being

composed of hymns furnished to Bach by Christian Friedrich Henrici, who

wrote under the pseudonym of "Picander," and, it is said, was assisted in

the compilation by the composer himself. The _dramatis personae_ are

Jesus, Judas, Peter, Pilate, the Apostles, and the People, or _Turbae_,

and the narrative is interpreted by reflections addressed to Jesus,

forming two choruses, "The Daughter of Zion" and "The Faithful," as

Picander calls them. They are sometimes given by the chorus, and

sometimes by single voices. The chorales are selected from those which

were in common use in the Lutheran Church, and were familiar therefore to

the congregations which sang the melody, the harmony being sustained by

the chorus and instruments. The Gospel text is in recitative form

throughout, the part of the evangelist, or narrator, being assigned to a

tenor voice, while those of the persons incidentally introduced are given

to other singers. In the dialogue, wherever the words of Jesus occur, the

accompaniment is furnished by a string quartette, which serves to

distinguish them from the others, and invests them with a peculiar

gentleness and grace. The incidental choruses, sung by the People and the

Apostles, are short and vivacious in character, many of them being in

madrigal form. The chorales, fifteen in number, as has already been said,

were taken from the Lutheran service. One of them, which Bach also

liberally used in his "Christmas Oratorio," beginning, "Acknowledge me,

my Keeper," appears five times in the progress of the work, forming the

keynote of the church sentiment, and differently harmonized on each

occasion. Another, "O Blessed Jesus," is twice used,--once where the

Saviour announces that he will be crucified after the Feast of the

Passover, when the whole congregation sings it, and again in the scene at

Gethsemane, sung by select choirs. The whole work is written for double

chorus, the two choruses singing the harmony of the chorales, accompanied

by the instruments, while the congregation sing the tune in unison. They

display to the utmost the breadth, richness, ingenuity, and power of Bach

in this form of writing. The reflective portions of the work, the text

written by Picander, are composed of arias introduced by recitative, with

the first part repeated in the close; of arias accompanied by chorus; and

of single choruses constructed in the most massive manner. Speaking of

the melodies in these portions of the work, Spitta says,--

"The grades of feeling traversed by Bach in the solo songs of the 'St.

Matthew Passion' are all the more impressive because every sentiment of

joy in its various shades is wholly excluded; they are all based on the

emotion of sorrow. The most fervent sympathy with the sufferings of the

Son of Man, rising to the utmost anguish, childlike trustfulness, manly

earnestness, and tenderly longing devotion to the Redeemer; repentance

for the personal sins that his suffering must atone for, and passionate

entreaties for mercy; an absorbed contemplation of the example offered

by the sufferings of Jesus, and solemn vows pronounced over his dead

body never to forsake or forget him,--these are the themes Bach had to

treat. And he has solved the difficult problem as if it were child's

play, with that inexhaustible wealth of resource which was most at his

command precisely when he had to depict the sadder emotions. In no

other of his works (unless it be in the 'Christmas Oratorio') do we

find such a store of lovely and various solo airs, nor did Bach even

ever write melodies more expressive and persuasive than those of the

arias in the 'St. Matthew Passion.'"

As we have said, the music is arranged for double chorus, and each chorus

has its own orchestra and its own organ accompaniment. The double

orchestra is composed of oboes, flutes, and stringed instruments. Drums

and brass instruments are not used, the sentiment of the work, in Bach's

estimation, not being fitted for them, sweetness and expressiveness of

tone rather than power being required. As Spitta says, sorrow is the

characteristic of the work. It has no choruses of rejoicing, no paeans of

praise, not even a hallelujah at its close.

The first part opens with a reflection sung by double chorus, "Come, ye

Daughters, weep for Anguish," the first exhorting believers to weep over

the sinful world, the second responding with brief interrogations, and at

last taking part in the sorrowful strains of the first. Interwoven with

these is an independent instrumental melody, the whole crowned with a

magnificent chorale sung by the sopranos, "O Lamb of God all blameless!"

followed by still another, "Say, sweetest Jesus," which reappears in

other parts of the work variously harmonized. The double chorus and

chorales form the introduction, and are followed by recitative and a

chorale, "Thou dear Redeemer," and a pathetic aria for contralto, "Grief

and Pain," relating the incident of the woman anointing the feet of

Jesus. The next number is an aria for soprano, "Only bleed, Thou dearest

Heart," which follows the acceptance by Judas of the thirty pieces of

silver, and which serves to intensify the grief in the aria preceding it.

The scene of the Last Supper ensues, and to this number Bach has given a

character of sweetness and gentleness, though its coloring is sad. As the

disciples ask, "Lord, is it I?" another chorale is sung, "'Tis I! my Sins

betray me." Recitative of very impressive character, conveying the divine

injunctions, leads up to a graceful and tender aria for soprano, "Never

will my Heart refuse Thee," one of the simplest and clearest, and yet one

of the richest and most expressive, melodies ever conceived. After

further recitative and the chorale, "I will stay here beside Thee," we

are introduced to the scene in the Garden of Gethsemane, which is

characterized by a number of extraordinary beauty and strength in its

construction. It is introduced by a short instrumental prelude, Zion,

represented by the tenor voice, and the Believers by the chorus, coming

in after a few bars and alternating with extraordinary vocal effect. It

calls for the highest dramatic power, and in its musical development is a

web of wonderful harmonies such as we may look for only in the works of

the mighty master of counterpoint. It fitly prepares the way for the two

great movements which close the first part, an aria for soprano and alto,

"Alas! my Jesus now is taken," and a double chorus, "Ye Lightnings, ye

Thunders!" The two solo voices join in a lament of a most touching

nature, accompanied by the chorus exclaiming in short, hurried phrases,

"Let Him go! Hold! Bind Him not!" until at last the double chorus bursts

in like a tempest, accompanied with the full power of the instruments,

expressing the world's indignation at the deed which is to be committed,

in the words:--

"Ye lightnings, ye thunders, in clouds are ye vanished!

Burst open, O fierce flaming caverns of hell!

Ingulf them, destroy them in wrathfullest mood!

Oh, blast the betrayer, the murderous brood!"

and the first part concludes with a chorale, "O Man, bewail thy great

Sin!"

The second part, originally sung after the sermon, opens with an aria for

contralto, full of the deepest feeling, "Alas! now is my Jesus gone," and

one of the most beautiful numbers in the oratorio, wherein Zion, or the

Church, mourns her great loss. The trial scene before Caiaphas and the

threefold denial of Peter follow, leading up to the beautiful aria for

alto, with violin obligato, "Oh, pardon me, my God!" Macfarren, in his

admirable analysis, says of this aria,--

"The deep, deep grief of a tormented conscience finds here an utterance

which fulfils the purport and far transcends the expression of the

words. One might suppose the power of the artist to have been

concentrated upon this one incident, so infinite is its beauty,--one

might suppose Bach to have regarded the situation it illustrates as

more significant than others of man's relation to Deity in his sense of

sin and need for mercy, and as requiring, therefore, peculiar

prominence in the total impression the oratorio should convey. If this

was his aim, it is all accomplished. The penitential feeling embodied

in the song is that which will longest linger in a remembrance of the

work. The soft tone of the contralto voice, and the keenness of that of

the violin, are accessories to the effect which the master well knew

how to handle; but these judicious means are little to be considered in

comparison with the musical idea of which they are the adjuncts."

The work now rapidly progresses to its beautiful finale. The soprano

recitative in response to Pilate's question, "He hath done only good to

all," the aria for soprano, "From love unbounded," the powerful contralto

recitative, "Look down, O God," the chorale, "O Head all bruised and

wounded!" the contralto aria with chorus, "Look where Jesus beckoning

stands," and the peaceful, soothing recitative for bass, "At Eventide,

cool Hour of Rest," are the principal numbers that occur as we approach

the last sad but beautiful double chorus of the Apostles, "Around Thy

Tomb here sit we weeping,"--a close as peaceful as the setting of the

sun; for the tomb is but the couch on which Jesus is reposing, and the

music dies away in a slumber-song of most exalted beauty. This brief

sketch could not better close than with the beautiful description which

Mr. Dwight gives of this scene in the notes which he prepared when the

work was performed at the Triennial Festival of the Handel and Haydn

Society of Boston:--

"How full of grief, of tender, spiritual love, of faith and peace, of

the heart's heaven smiling through tears, is this tone-elegy! So should

the passion-music close, and not with fugue of praise and triumph like

an oratorio. How sweetly, evenly, the harmony flows on,--a broad, rich,

deep, pellucid river, swollen as by countless rills from all the

loving, bleeding, and believing hearts in a redeemed humanity! How full

of a sweet, secret comfort, even triumph, is this heavenly farewell: It

is 'the peace which passeth understanding.' 'Rest Thee softly' is the

burden of the song. One chorus sings it, and the other echoes 'Softly

rest;' then both together swell the strain. Many times as this recurs,

not only in the voices, but in the introduction and frequent interludes

of the exceedingly full orchestra, which sounds as human as if it too

had breath and conscious feeling, you still crave more of it; for it is

as if your soul were bathed in new life inexhaustible. No chorus ever

sung is surer to enlist the singers' hearts."

The Magnificat in D.

The Magnificat in D--known as the "Great Magnificat," to distinguish it

from the smaller--is considered one of the grandest illustrations of

Bach's genius. It was composed for Christmas Day, 1723. Spitta says:--

"The performance of the cantata 'Christen, aetzet diesen Tag,' with its

attendant 'Sanctus,' took place during the morning service, and was

sung by the first choir in the Nikolaikirche. In the evening the

cantata was repeated by the same choir in the Thomaskirche; and after

the sermon the Hymn of the Virgin was sung, set in its Latin form, and

in an elaborate style. For this purpose Bach wrote his great

'Magnificat.'"

For the occasion of this festival he expanded the Biblical text into four

vocal numbers; but in describing the work it is only necessary to give it

as it is now generally sung.

The work is written for a five-part chorus, with organ and orchestral

accompaniment. After a concerted introduction, foreshadowing the general

character of the music, it opens with the chorus, "Magnificat anima mea,"

in fugal form, worked up with that wonderful power of construction for

which Bach is so renowned among all composers. It is followed by an aria

for second soprano ("Et exultavit spiritus meus: in Deo salutari meo"),

which is in the same key and has the same general feeling as the opening

chorus, that of Christmas rejoicing. It in turn is followed by an aria

for first soprano ("Quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae"), of which

Spitta says: "Scarcely ever has the idea of virgin purity, simplicity,

and humble happiness found more perfect expression than in this German

picture of the Madonna, translated as it were into musical language." It

leads directly to the chorus which takes up the unfinished words of the

soprano ("Omnes generationes"), each part overlaying the other as it

enters, and closing in canon form in grave and colossal harmony. Its next

number is an aria for bass ("Quia fecit mihi magna"), of a simple and

joyous character. It is followed by a melodious duet for alto and tenor

("Et misericordia"), with violin and flute accompaniment, setting forth

the mercy of God, in contrast with which the powerful and energetic

chorus ("Fecit potentiam") which succeeds it, is very striking in its

effect. Two beautiful arias for tenor ("Deposuit potentes de sede") and

alto ("Esurientes implevit bonis") follow, the latter being exquisitely

tender in its expression, and lead to the terzetto ("Suscepit Israel

puerum suum: recordatus misericordiae suae"), arranged in chorale form, and

very plaintive and even melancholy in style. Its mourning is soon lost,

however, in the stupendous five-part fugue ("Sicut locutus est") which

follows it and which leads to the triumphant "Gloria," closing the

work,--a chorus of extraordinary majesty and power. Spitta, in his

exhaustive analysis of Bach's music, says of this "Magnificat":--

"It is emphatically distinct from the rest of Bach's grand church

compositions by the compactness and concentrated power of the separate

numbers,--particularly of the choruses,--by the lavish use of the means

at command, and by its vividly emotional and yet not too agitating

variety. It stands at the entrance of a new path and a fresh period of

his productivity, at once full of significance in itself and of promise

for the future development of the perennial genius which could always

re-create itself from its own elements."

BEETHOVEN.

A general sketch of the life and musical accomplishments of Beethoven has

already appeared in the companion to this work, "The Standard Operas." In

this connection, however, it seems eminently fitting that some attention

should be paid to the religious sentiments of the great composer and the

sacred works which he produced. He was a formal member of the Roman

Church, but at the same time an ardent admirer of some of the Protestant

doctrines. His religious observances, however, were peculiarly his own.

His creed had little in common with any of the ordinary forms of

Christianity. A writer in "Macmillan's Magazine" some years ago very

clearly defined his religious position in the statement that his faith

rested on a pantheistic abstraction which he called "Love." He

interpreted everything by the light of this sentiment, which took the

form of an endless longing, sometimes deeply sad, at others rising to the

highest exaltation. An illustration of this in its widest sense may be

found in the choral part of the Ninth Symphony. He at times attempted to

give verbal expression to this ecstatic faith which filled him, and at

such times he reminds us of the Mystics. The following passages, which he

took from the inscription on the temple of the Egyptian goddess Neith at

Sais, and called his creed, explain this: "I am that which is. I am all

that is, that was, and that shall be. No mortal man hath lifted my veil.

He is alone by Himself, and to Him alone do all things owe their being."

With all this mysticism his theology was practical, as is shown by his

criticism of the words which Moscheles appended to his arrangement of

"Fidelio." The latter wrote at the close of his work: "_Fine_, with God's

help." Beethoven added: "O man! help thyself." That he was deeply

religious by nature, however, is constantly shown in his letters.

Wandering alone at evening among the mountains, he sketched a hymn to the

words, "God alone is our Lord." In the extraordinary letter which he

wrote to his brothers, Carl and Johann, he says: "God looks into my

heart. He searches it, and knows that love for man and feelings of

benevolence have their abode there." In a letter to Bettina von Arnim, he

writes: "If I am spared for some years to come, I will thank the

Omniscient, the Omnipotent, for the boon, as I do for all other weal and

woe." In Spohr's album his inscription is a musical setting of the words,

"Short is the pain, eternal is the joy." In a letter to the Archduke

Rudolph, written in 1817, he gives no uncertain expression to his divine

trust. He says: "My confidence is placed in Providence, who will

vouchsafe to hear my prayer, and one day set me free from all my

troubles; for I have served him faithfully from my childhood, and done

good whenever it was in my power. So my trust is in him alone, and I feel

that the Almighty will not allow me to be utterly crushed by all my

manifold trials." Even in a business letter he says: "I assure you on my

honor--which, next to God, is what I prize most--that I authorized no one

to accept commissions from me." His letters indeed abound in references

to his constant reliance upon a higher Power. The oratorio, "Christ on

the Mount of Olives," six sacred songs set to poems of Gellert, the Mass

in C written for Prince Esterhazy, and the Grand Mass in D written for

the Archduke Rudolph, one of the grandest and most impressive works in

the entire realm of sacred music, attest the depth and fervency of his

religious nature.

The Mount of Olives.

Beethoven wrote but one oratorio, "Christus am Oelberg" ("Christ on the

Mount of Olives"). That he had others in contemplation, however, at

different periods of his life is shown by his letters. In 1809 he wrote

to Freiherr von Hammer-Purgstall, a famous Oriental scholar, appointing

an interview for the discussion of the latter's poem on the subject of

the deluge, with reference to its fitness for treatment as an oratorio.

Again, in 1824, he writes to Vincenz Hauschka, of Vienna, that he has

decided to write an oratorio on the text furnished by Bernard, the

subject being "The Victory of the Cross." This work, however, owing to

his extreme physical sufferings at that period, was never begun, and the

world thereby has suffered a great musical loss; for, judging from his

great Mass in D, no one can doubt how majestic and impressive the

"Victory of the Cross" would have been, as compared with the "Mount of

Olives," written in his earlier period, and before any of his

masterpieces had appeared.

The "Mount of Olives" was begun in 1800, and finished during the

following year. Beethoven never remained in Vienna during the summer. The

discomforts of the city and his intense love for Nature urged him out

into the pleasantly wooded suburbs of the city, where he could live and

work in seclusion. Upon this occasion he selected the little village of

Hetzendorf, adjoining the gardens of the imperial palace of Schoenbrunn,

where the Elector, his old patron, was living in retirement. Trees were

his delight. In a letter to Madame von Drossdick, he says: "Woods, trees,

and rocks give the response which man requires. Every tree seems to say,

'Holy, Holy!'" In the midst of these delightful surroundings he found his

favorite tree, at whose base he composed the larger part of the oratorio,

as well as his opera "Fidelio." Schindler says: "A circumstance connected

with both these great works, and of which Beethoven many years afterwards

still retained a lively recollection, was, that he composed them in the

thickest part of the wood in the park of Schoenbrunn, seated between the

two stems of an oak, which shot out from the main trunk at the height of

about two feet from the ground. This remarkable tree, in that part of the

park to the left of the Gloriett, I found with Beethoven in 1823, and the

sight of it called forth interesting reminiscences of the former period."

The words of the oratorio were by Huber, the author of Winter's

"Unterbrochene Opferfest," and were written, with Beethoven's assistance,

in fourteen days. That more time and attention were not given to the text

was probably regretted by both poet and composer many times afterwards.

The first performance of the work in its entirety took place at Vienna,

April 5, 1803, at the Theater an der Wien, upon which occasion the

programme also included the Symphony in D (second) and the Piano Concerto

in C minor, the latter executed by himself. The oratorio was received

with enthusiasm, and was repeated three times during that year.

The libretto of the work is unquestionably defective in the most salient

qualities which should characterize the text of an oratorio, even to the

degree of extravagance and sensationalism. It fails to reflect the

sorrowful character of the scene it depicts, and the dramatic

requirements which it imposes are often strained, and sometimes border on

the grotesque. The theatrical style of the narrative was deplored by

Beethoven himself at a subsequent period. Marx, one of the keenest of

critics, says of the work:--

"The poet had no other aim but that of making verses for a composer;

the latter, no other motive than the ordinary creative impulse

prompting him to try his powers in a different and important sphere.

The result on both sides could not therefore be other than phrases,

although the better of the two proceeded from the composer, and that

composer was Beethoven. To conceal or palliate this would be derogatory

to the reverence which we all owe to Beethoven; he stands too high to

be in need of extenuation."

This is Marx's judgment; and yet it must be said that the world for the

most part has found more in the "Mount of Olives" than he has.

The oratorio is written for three solo voices (Jesus, Peter, and a

Seraph), chorus, and orchestra. The narrative opens with the agony in the

garden, followed by the chant of a Seraph reciting the divine goodness

and foretelling the salvation of the righteous. In the next scene Jesus

learns his fate from the Seraph, yields himself to approaching death, and

welcomes it. The Soldiers enter in pursuit, and a tumult ensues as the

Apostles find themselves surrounded. Peter draws his sword and gives vent

to his indignation; but is rebuked both by Jesus and the Seraph, and

together they conjure him to be silent and endure whatever may happen.

The Soldiers, discovering Jesus, rush upon him and bind him. The

Disciples express their apprehension that they too will suffer; but Jesus

uncomplainingly surrenders himself, and a chorus of rejoicing completes

the work. From this brief sketch the artificial and distorted manner of

treating the solemn subject will be evident.

The score opens with an adagio introduction for instruments which is of a

very dramatic character, and, unlike nearly all of the sacred music of

that time, is noticeable for the absence of the fugue. Barbedette, the

great French critic, pronounces it the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of introductions,

and a masterpiece in the serious style. The first number is a recitative

and aria for tenor, sung by Jesus ("All my Soul within me shudders"),

which, notwithstanding the anomaly of such a scene in such surroundings,

is simple and touching in expression. The Seraph follows with a scene and

aria ("Praise the Redeemer's Goodness"), concluding with a brilliant and

jubilant obligato with chorus ("O triumph, all ye Ransomed"). The next

number is an elaborate duet between Jesus and the Seraph ("On me then

fall Thy heavy Judgment"), which is still more anomalous than the scene

and aria with which Jesus opens the work. In a short recitative passage,

Jesus welcomes death; and then ensues one of the most powerful numbers in

the work, the chorus of Soldiers in march time ("We surely here shall

find Him"), interspersed with the cries of the People demanding his

death, and the lamentations of the Apostles. At the conclusion of the

tumult a dialogue ensues between Jesus and Peter ("Not unchastised shall

this audacious Band"), which leads up to the crowning anomaly of the

work, a trio between Jesus, Peter, and the Seraph, with chorus ("O, Sons

of Men, with Gladness"). The closing number, a chorus of angels

("Hallelujah, God's Almighty Son"), is introduced with a short but

massive symphony leading to a jubilant burst of Hallelujah, which finally

resolves itself into a glorious fugue, accompanied with all that wealth

of instrumentation of which Beethoven was the consummate master. In all

sacred music it is difficult to find a choral number which can surpass it

in majesty or power.

The English versions of the "Mount of Olives" differ materially from the

German in the text. Numerous efforts have been made to avoid the

incongruity of the original narrative, but with poor success. It was

first produced in England in 1814 by Sir George Smart during the Lenten

oratorios at Drury Lane, the English version of which was made by Arnold,

at that time manager of the King's Theatre. Still later it was produced

again, and the adapter compromised by using the third person, as

"'Jehovah, Thou, O Father,' saith the Lord our Saviour." Two other

versions were made by Thomas Oliphant and Mr. Bartholomew, but these were

not successful. At last the aversion to the personal part of Jesus led to

an entirely new text, called "Engedi," the words of which were written by

Dr. Henry Hudson, of Dublin, and founded upon the persecution of David by

Saul in the wilderness, as described in parts of chapters xxiii., xxiv.,

and xxvi. of the first book of Samuel. The characters introduced are

David, Abishai, and the Prophetess, the latter corresponding to the

Seraph in the original. The compiler himself in his preface says:--

"So far as was possible, the author has availed himself of Scripture

language, and David's words have been taken (almost wholly) from the

Psalms generally attributed to him, though of course not in regular

order, as it has invariably throughout been the writer's first object

to select words adapting themselves to the original music in its

continually varying expression, which could not have been done had he

taken any one psalm as his text. How far the author has succeeded, he

must leave to others to determine."

The substituted story has not proved successful, principally because the

music, which was written for an entirely different one, is not adapted to

it. The latest version is that of the Rev. J. Troutbeck, prepared for the

Leeds festivals, in which the Saviour is again introduced.

BENNETT.

William Sterndale Bennett, one of the most gifted and individual of

English composers, was born at Sheffield, April 13, 1816. His musical

genius displayed itself early, and in his tenth year he was placed in the

Royal Academy of Music, of which in his later years he became principal.

He received his early instruction in composition from Lucas and Dr.

Crotch, and studied the piano with Cipriani Potter, who had been a pupil

of Mozart. The first composition which gained him distinction was the

Concerto in D minor, written in 1832, which was followed by the Capriccio

in D minor. During the next three years he produced the overture to

"Parisina," the F minor Concerto, and the "Naiades" overture, the success

of which was so great that a prominent musical house in London offered to

send him to Leipsic for a year. He went there, and soon won his way to

the friendship of Schumann and Mendelssohn. With the latter he was on

very intimate terms, which has led to the erroneous statement that he was

his pupil. In 1840 he made a second visit to Leipsic, where he composed

his Caprice in E, and "The Wood Nymphs" overture. In 1842 he returned to

England, and for several years was busily engaged with chamber concerts.

In 1849 he founded the Bach Society, arranged the "Matthew Passion" music

of that composer, as well as the "Christmas Oratorio," and brought out

the former work in 1854. The previous year he was offered the

distinguished honor of the conductorship of the Gewandhaus concerts at

Leipsic, but did not accept. In 1856 he was appointed conductor of the

Philharmonic Society, and filled the position for ten years, resigning it

to take the head of the Royal Academy of Music. In the same year he was

elected musical professor at Cambridge, where he received the degree of

Doctor of Music and other honors. In 1858 his beautiful cantata, "The May

Queen," was produced at the Leeds Festival, and in 1862 the "Paradise and

the Peri" overture, written for the Philharmonic Society. In 1867 his

oratorio, or, as he modestly terms it, "sacred cantata," "The Woman of

Samaria," was produced with great success at the Birmingham Festival. In

1870 he was honored with a degree by the University of Oxford, and a year

later received the empty distinction of knighthood. His last public

appearance was at a festival in Brighton in 1874, where he conducted his

"Woman of Samaria." He died Feb. 1, 1875, and was buried in Westminster

Abbey with distinguished honors. His musical ability was as widely

recognized in Germany as in England,--indeed his profound musical

scholarship and mastery of problems in composition were more appreciated

there. Mr. Statham, in an admirable sketch, pronounces him a born

pianist, and says that his wonderful knowledge of the capabilities of the

piano, and his love for it, developed into favoritism in some of his

concerted music. A friend of the composer, recalling some reminiscences

of him in "Fraser," says that his music is full of beauty and expression,

displays a remarkable fancy, a keen love of Nature, and at times true

religious devotion, but that it does not contain a single note of

passion. His only sacred music is the short oratorio, "The Woman of

Samaria," and four anthems: "Now, my God, let, I beseech Thee," "Remember

now thy Creator," "O that I knew," and "The Fool hath said in his Heart."

It has been well said of him: "In his whole career he never condescended

to write a single note for popular effect, nor can a bar of his music be

quoted which in style and aim does not belong to what is highest in

musical art."

The Woman of Samaria.

"The Woman of Samaria," a short, one-part oratorio, styled by its

composer a "sacred cantata," was first produced at the Birmingham

Festival, Aug. 27, 1867; though one of his biographers affirms that as

early as 1843 he was shown a chorus for six voices, treated antiphonally,

which Bennett himself informed him was to be introduced in an oratorio he

was then contemplating, and that this chorus, if not identical with

"Therefore they shall come," in "The Woman of Samaria," is at least the

foundation of it.

The work is written for four solo voices, chorus, and orchestra. The

soprano takes the part of the Woman of Samaria, the other parts being

impersonal. The music for the contralto is mainly declamatory. Tha tenor

has a single aria, while the bass, with one exception, has the part of

Narrator, the words of our Saviour being attributed to him and invariably

introduced in the third personal form,--which is a striking proof of the

devotional spirit of the composer, as in all other instances, after the

announcement by the Narrator, the Woman sings her own words. The chorus,

as in the passion-music of Bach, has the reflective numbers and moralizes

on the various situations as they occur, except in one number, "Now we

believe," where it declaims the words as a part of the narrative itself.

The text for chorus is selected from appropriate parts of the Scriptures

which are in keeping with the events forming the groundwork of its

reflections.

The story is taken from the fourth chapter of the Gospel according to

Saint John, and follows literally the narrative of the journey of the

Saviour into Samaria,--his rest at Jacob's well, his meeting with the

woman who came thither to draw water, and the conversation which

followed; the only interruptions being the reflections, not only by the

chorus, but also by the contralto and tenor, these episodes being taken

mostly from the Prophecies and Psalms.

The oratorio opens with a brief instrumental introduction and chorale

("Ye Christian People, now rejoice") for sopranos alone, the melody of

which first appeared in the "Geistliche Lieder," issued at Wittenberg in

1535. The words are a translation of the old hymn, "Nun freut euch,

lieben Christen G'mein," to which the tune was formerly sung in Germany.

The treatment of this chorale, by combining it with the instrumental

movement in opposing rhythms, shows the powerful influence which the

composer's close study of Bach had upon him. Its effect in introducing

the scenes which follow reminds one of the grace before the feast. It

dies away in slow and gentle numbers, and then follows the opening

recitative of the oratorio proper ("Then cometh Jesus to a City of

Samaria"), sung by the contralto, and leading up to an arioso chorus

("Blessed be the Lord God of Israel"), the words taken from the Gospel of

Saint Luke. The next number is a very graceful and artistic combination,

opening with recitative for contralto, bass, and soprano, leading to an

adagio solo for bass ("If thou knewest the Gift of God"), and ending with

a closely harmonious chorus in the same rhythm ("For with Thee is the

Well of Life"), the words from the Psalms. The dialogue between Jesus and

the Woman is then resumed, leading to a solo by the latter ("Art Thou

greater than our Father Jacob?"). The question is sung and repeated in

declamatory tones constantly increasing in power and expressive of

defiance. Bennett was a bitter opponent of Wagner; but in the unvocal and

declamatory character of this solo, and in the dramatic force he has

given to it, to the sacrifice of melody, he certainly ventured some

distance in the Wagnerian direction. The next number, the reply of Jesus

("Whosoever drinketh"), sung, as usual, by the bass voice, is in striking

contrast with the question. Instead of full orchestra, it has the

accompaniment of the strings and first and second horns only, reminding

one of Bach's method of accompanying the part assigned to Jesus in his

St. Matthew Passion. This number is followed by a spirited fortissimo

chorus ("Therefore with Joy shall ye draw Water"), sung to the full

strength of voice and orchestra. After the dialogue in which Jesus

acquaints the Woman with the incidents of her past life, the contralto

voice has an exquisite solo ("O Lord, Thou hast searched me out"), full

of tenderness and expression, in which the opening phrase is repeated in

the finale and gains intensity by a change of harmony. The dialogue, in

which the divine character of Jesus becomes apparent to the Woman, is

resumed, and leads to a beautifully constructed chorus in six parts

("Therefore they shall come and sing"), followed by an impressive and

deeply devotional quartet for the principals, unaccompanied ("God is a

Spirit"),--to which an additional interest is lent from the fact that it

was sung in Westminster Abbey upon the occasion of the composer's

funeral. A few bars of recitative lead to a chorus in close, solid

harmony ("Who is the Image of the Invisible God"), with organ

accompaniment only, which in turn, after a few more bars of recitative

for contralto and soprano, is followed by the chorus ("Come, O Israel"),

sung pianissimo and accompanied by entire orchestra. The next number, as

the oratorio is now performed, is one which has been introduced. It is a

soprano aria, "I will love Thee, O Lord," which was found among the

composer's manuscripts after his death. The preface to the revised

edition of the oratorio has the following reference to this number:--

"In justification of so bold a step as the introduction of a new

number, it is interesting to point out that the composer felt the Woman

of Samaria ought to sing a song of conversion in the portion of the

cantata in which the new air is placed. It is clear from the original

preface[2] that he thought of her as an impulsive woman who would

naturally be carried from worldliness into the opposite extreme of

religious devotion."

The introduction of the air also gives more importance to the soprano

part and relieves the succession of choral movements in the close of the

work. The remaining numbers are the beautiful chorale, "Abide with me,

fast falls the Eventide;" the chorus, "Now we believe," one of the most

finished in the whole work; a short tenor solo ("His Salvation is nigh

them that fear Him"),--the only one in the oratorio for that voice; the

chorus, "I will call upon the Lord;" and the final imposing fugue,

"Blessed be the Lord God of Israel." The last number is a fitting close

to a work which is not only highly descriptive of its subject throughout,

but also full of feeling and devotional reverence.

[2] "With regard to the Woman of Samaria herself, it will be plainly seen

that the composer has treated her as a secular and worldly character,

though not without indications here and there of that strong intuitive

religious feeling which has never been denied to her. This feeling is

especially shown when she says: 'I know that Messias cometh; when He is

come He will tell us all things.' Also, towards the end of the

narrative, where she passionately exclaims to the Samaritans: 'Come,

see a man who told me all the things that ever I did: is not this the

Christ?'"--_Original Preface_.

BERLIOZ.

Hector Berlioz, one of the most renowned of modern French composers, and

an acute critic and skilful conductor as well, was born, Dec. 11, 1803,

at La Cote St. Andre, in France. His father was a physician, and intended

him for the same profession. He reluctantly went to Paris and began the

study of medicine; but music became his engrossing passion, and medicine

was abandoned. He entered the Conservatory as a pupil of Lesueur, and

soon showed himself superior to all his masters, except Cherubini,--which

aroused a strong opposition to him and his compositions. It was only

after repeated trials that he took the first prize, with his cantata,

"Sardanapale," which entitled him to go to Italy for three years. On his

return to Paris he encountered renewed antipathy. His music was not well

received, and he was obliged to support himself by conducting at concerts

and writing articles for the press. As a final resort he organized a

concert tour through Germany and Russia, the details of which are

contained in his extremely interesting Autobiography. At these concerts

his own music was the staple of the programmes, and it met with great

success, though not always played by the best of orchestras, and not

always well by the best, as his own testimony shows; for his compositions

are very exacting, and call for every resource known to the modern

orchestra. The Germans were quick in appreciating his music, but it was

not until after his death that his ability was conceded in France. In

1839 he was appointed librarian of the Conservatory, and in 1856 was made

a member of the French Academy. These were the only honors he received,

though he long sought to obtain a professorship in the Conservatory. A

romantic but sad incident in his life was his violent passion for Miss

Smithson, an Irish actress, whom he saw upon the Paris stage in the

_role_ of Ophelia, at a time when Victor Hugo had revived an admiration

for Shakspeare among the French. He married her, but did not live with

her long, owing to her bad temper and ungovernable jealousy; though after

the separation he honorably contributed to her support out of the

pittance he was earning. Among his great works are the opera, "Benvenuto

Cellini;" the symphony with chorus, "Romeo and Juliet;" "Beatrice and

Benedict;" "Les Troyens," the text from Virgil's "AEneid;" the symphony,

"Harold in Italy;" the symphony, "Funebre et Triomphale;" the "Damnation

of Faust;" a double chorused "Te Deum;" the "Symphony Fantastique;" the

"Requiem;" and the sacred trilogy, "L'Enfance du Christ." Berlioz stands

among all other composers as the foremost representative of "programme

music," and has left explicit and very detailed explanations of the

meaning of his works, so that the hearer may listen intelligently by

seeing the external objects his music is intended to picture. In the

knowledge of individual instruments and the grouping of them for effect,

in warmth of imagination and brilliancy of color, and in his daring

combinations and fantastic moods, which are sometimes carried to the very

verge of eccentricity, he is a colossus among modern musicians. He died

in Paris, March 8, 1869.

The Requiem.

Ferdinand Hiller writes in his "Kuenstlerleben:" "Hector Berlioz does not

belong to our musical solar system; he does not belong to the planets,

neither to the large nor to the small. He was a comet, shining far,

somewhat eerie to look at, soon again disappearing; but his appearance

will remain unforgotten." The Requiem ("Messe des Morts") exemplifies

Hiller's words. It is colossal, phenomenal, and altogether unique. It is

not sacred, for it never came from the heart. It is not solemn, though it

is a drama of death. It is a combination of the picturesque, fantastic,

and sublime, in a tone-poem dedicated to the dead.

In 1836 Berlioz was requested by M. de Gasparin, Minister of the

Interior, to write a requiem commemorating the victims of the July

Revolution; but the work was not given to the public until 1837, when it

was sung at the Invalides in memory of General Damremont and the soldiers

killed at the siege of Constantina. It was subsequently asserted by

Berlioz that Cherubini had conspired with others in the Conservatory to

prevent its performance and to secure that of his own, by virtue of the

precedence which his position gave him. The charge, however, must have

been a mere fancy on his part, as he had already written a letter to

Cherubini, saying:--

"I am deeply touched by the noble abnegation which leads you to refuse

your admirable Requiem for the ceremony of the Invalides. Be convinced

of my heartiest gratitude."

The work embraced ten numbers: I. Requiem and Kyrie ("Requiem aeternam

dona eis"); II., III., IV., V., and VI., including different motives

taken from the hymn, "Dies Irae;" VII. "Offertorium;" VIII. "Hostias et

Preces;" IX. "Sanctus;" X. "Agnus Dei." It will be observed that the

composer has not followed the formal sequences of the Mass, and that he

has not only omitted some of the parts, but has also frequently taken

license with those which he uses. This may be accounted for in two ways.

First, he was not of a religious nature. Hiller, in the work already

quoted, says of him:

"Of his Catholic education every trace had disappeared. Doubts of all

sorts had possession of him, and the contempt of what he called

'prejudice' bordered on the monstrous. Berlioz believed neither in a

God nor in Bach."

Second, it is evident from the construction of the work throughout that

it was his purpose simply to give free rein to his fancy and to express,

even at the risk of being theatrical, the emotions of sublimity, terror,

and awe called up by the associations of the subject. This he could not

have done with a free hand had he been bound down to the set forms of the

Mass.

After a brief but majestic instrumental introduction, the voices enter

upon the "Requiem,"--a beautiful and solemn strain. The movement is built

upon three melodies set to the words, "Requiem aeternam," "Tu decet

Hymnus," and the "Kyrie," the accompaniment of which is very descriptive

and characteristic. The "Kyrie" is specially impressive, the chant of the

sopranos being answered by the tenors and basses in unison, and the whole

closing with a dirge-like movement by the orchestra.

The "Dies Irae" is the most spirited as well as impressive number of the

work. It is intensely dramatic in its effects, indeed it might be called

theatrical. Berlioz seems to have fairly exhausted the resources of

instruments to produce the feeling of awful sublimity and overwhelming

power, even to the verge of the most daring eccentricity and, as one

prominent critic expressed it, "terrible cataclysms." The first part of

the "Dies Irae" will always be remarkable for the orchestral arrangement.

After the climax of the motive, "Quantus tremor est futurus," there is a

pause which is significant by its very silence; it is the hush before the

storm. Suddenly from either angle of the stage or hall, in addition to

the principal orchestra in front, four smaller bands of trombones,

trumpets, and tubas crash in with overwhelming power in the announcement

of the terrors of the day of judgment. The effect is like that of peal

upon peal of thunder. At its culmination the bass voices enter in unison

upon the words, "Tuba mirum," in the midst of another orchestral storm,

which is still further heightened by an unusual number of kettledrums.

From the beginning to the close, this part of the "Dies Irae" is simply

cyclopean; words cannot describe its overwhelming power. It is a relief

when the storm has passed over, and we come to the next verse ("Quid sum

miser"), for the basses and tenors, though mostly for the first tenors.

It is a breathing spell of quiet delight. It is given in the softest of

tone, and is marked in the score to be sung with "an expression of

humility and awe." It leads to the andante number ("Rex tremendae

majestatis"), which is sung fortissimo throughout, and accompanied with

another tremendous outburst of harmonious thunder in crashing chords,

which continues up to the last eight bars, when the voices drop suddenly

from the furious fortissimo to an almost inaudible pianissimo on the

words "Salve me." The next verse ("Quaerens me") is an unaccompanied

six-part chorus in imitative style, of very close harmony. The "Dies Irae"

ends with the "Lachrymosa," the longest and most interesting number in

the work. It is thoroughly melodic, and is peculiarly strengthened by a

pathetic and sentimental accompaniment, which, taken in connection with

the choral part against which it is set, presents an almost inexhaustible

variety of rhythms and an originality of technical effects which are

astonishing. Its general character is broad and solemn, and it closes

with a return to the "Dies Irae," with full chorus and all the orchestras.

This finishes the "Dies Irae" section of the work.

The next number is the "Offertorium," in which the voices are limited to

a simple phrase of two notes, A alternating with B flat, which is never

varied throughout the somewhat long movement. It never becomes

monotonous, however, so rich and varied is the instrumentation. The

"Hostias et Preces,"--sustained by the tenors and basses, a very solemn

and majestic movement,--displays another of Berlioz's eccentricities, the

accompaniment at the close of the first phrase being furnished by three

flutes and eight tenor trombones, which one enemy of the composer says

represents the distance from the sublime to the ridiculous. The

"Sanctus," a tenor solo with responses by the sopranos and altos, is full

of poetical, almost sensuous beauty, and is the most popular number in

the work. It closes with a fugue on the words "Hosanna in Excelsis." The

final number is the "Agnus Dei," a chorus for male voices, in which the

composer once more employs the peculiar combination of flutes and tenor

trombones. In this number he also returns to the music of the opening

number, "Requiem aeternam," and closes it with an "Amen" softly dying

away. Thus ends the Requiem,--a work which will always be the subject of

critical dispute, owing to its numerous innovations on existing musical

forms and the daring manner in which the composer has treated it.

The following sketch of the first performance of the Requiem, taken from

Berlioz's Autobiography, will be found interesting in this connection. It

is necessary to preface it with the statement that the director of the

Beaux-Arts had insisted that Habeneck should conduct the work. As Berlioz

had quarrelled with the old conductor, and had not been on speaking terms

with him for three years, he at first refused; but subsequently

consented, on condition that he should conduct at one full rehearsal.

Berlioz says:--

"The day of the performance arrived in the Church of the Invalides,

before all the princes, peers, and deputies, the French press, the

correspondents of foreign papers, and an immense crowd. It was

absolutely essential for me to have a great success; a moderate one

would have been fatal, and a failure would have annihilated me

altogether.

"Now, listen attentively.

"The various groups of instruments in the orchestra were tolerably

widely separated, especially the four brass bands introduced in the

'Tuba mirum,' each of which occupied a corner of the entire orchestra.

There is no pause between the 'Dies Irae' and 'Tuba mirum,' but the pace

of the latter movement is reduced to half what it was before. At this

point the whole of the brass enters, first altogether, and then in

passages, answering and interrupting, each a third higher than the

last. It is obvious that it is of the greatest importance that the four

beats of the new tempo should be distinctly marked, or else the

terrible explosion which I had so carefully prepared, with combinations

and proportions never attempted before or since, and which, rightly

performed, gives such a picture of the Last Judgment as I believe is

destined to live, would be a mere enormous and hideous confusion.

"With my habitual mistrust, I had stationed myself behind Habeneck,

and, turning my back on him, overlooked the group of kettledrums, which

he could not see, when the moment approached for them to take part in

the general _melee_. There are perhaps one thousand bars in my Requiem.

Precisely in that of which I have just been speaking, when the movement

is retarded and the wind instruments burst in with their terrible

flourish of trumpets; in fact, just in _the_ one bar where the

conductor's motion is absolutely indispensable,--Habeneck _puts down

his baton, quietly takes out his snuffbox_, and proceeds to take a

pinch of snuff. I always had my eye in his direction, and instantly

turned rapidly on one heel, and, springing before him, I stretched out

my arm and marked the four great beats of the new movement. The

orchestras followed me each in order. I conducted the piece to the end,

and the effect which I had longed for was produced. When, at the last

words of the chorus, Habeneck saw that the 'Tuba Mirum' was saved, he

said: 'What a cold perspiration I have been in! Without you we should

have been lost.' 'Yes, I know,' I answered, looking fixedly at him. I

did not add another word.... Had he done it on purpose?... Could it be

possible that this man had dared to join my enemy, the director, and

Cherubini's friends, in plotting and attempting such rascality? I don't

wish to believe it ... but I cannot doubt it. God forgive me if I am

doing the man injustice!

"The success of the 'Requiem' was complete, in spite of all the

conspiracies--cowardly, atrocious, officious, and official--which would

fain have hindered it."

BRAHMS.

Johannes Brahms, one of the most eminent of living German composers, was

born at Hamburg, May 7, 1833. His father was a double-bass player in the

orchestra in that city, and devoted his son at a very early age to his

own profession. His first piano teacher was Cossell; but to Eduard

Marxsen, the Royal Music Director, he owes his real success as a

composer. Brahms remained in Hamburg until 1853, when he went upon a

concert-tour with Remenyi, the eccentric and somewhat sensational

Hungarian, who has been a familiar figure upon the American

concert-stage. He remained with him, however, but a very short time, for

in October of that year they parted company. Brahms had attracted the

notice of Liszt and Joachim; and it may have been through their advice

that the musical partnership was dissolved. In any event, soon after

leaving Remenyi he went to Duesseldorf and visited Schumann. It was the

latter who announced him to the world in such strong words as these:--

"In following with the greatest interest the paths of these elect

[Joachim, Naumann, Norman, Bargiel, Kirchner, Schaeffer, Dietrich, and

Wilsing], I thought that after such forerunners there would, and must

at last, all on a sudden appear one whose mission it would be to utter

the highest expression of his time in an ideal manner,--one who would

attain mastery, not by degrees, but, like Minerva, would at once spring

completely armed from the head of Cronion.... May the highest genius

give him strength for that of which there is hope, as in him dwells

also another genius, that of modesty! We bid him welcome as a strong

champion."

The next year (1854) appeared his first works,--three sonatas, a trio,

scherzo for piano, and three books of songs. After a visit to Liszt at

Weimar, he settled down as chorus-conductor and music-teacher at the

court of Lippe-Detmold, where he remained a few years. During this period

he devoted himself assiduously to composition. After leaving Detmold, he

successively resided in Hamburg, Zuerich, and Baden-Baden, though most of

his time has been spent in Vienna, where he has directed the Singakademie

and the concerts of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde. Schumann's

prophecy has been made good; Brahms is to-day one of the most eminent of

living musicians. Among his most famous compositions are a Funeral Hymn

for chorus and wind-band; the "German Requiem;" "Triumphlied," for

double-chorus and orchestra; "Schicksallied," for chorus and orchestra;

five symphonies; variations on a theme of Haydn, for orchestra; the

Tragic and Academic overtures; and several trios, quartets, quintets,

sextets, concertos, and sonatas.

The German Requiem.

The "German Requiem," so called, is not a requiem in its sentiment, nor

in any sense a religious service. The poem is full of consolation for the

mourner, of assurances of joy hereafter, of warnings against the pomps

and vanities of the world, and closes with the victory of the saints over

death and the grave. It might with more propriety be called "a sacred

cantata." The work has seven numbers,--two baritone solos and chorus,

soprano solo and chorus, and four separate choruses. It was first

performed at Bremen on Good Friday, 1868, and in 1873 was first heard in

England. It was also given at the Cincinnati festival of 1884, under Mr.

Thomas's direction.

The opening chorus ("Blessed are they that go mourning") is beautifully

written, and is particularly noticeable for the richness of its

accompaniment. In the Funeral March, which follows, a very graphic

resemblance to the measured tread of the cortege is accomplished by the

use of triple time. In this, as well as in numerous other instances, the

composer cuts loose from ordinary methods, and in pure classical form and

by the use of legitimate musical processes achieves what others seek to

effect by sensuous or purely imitative music. The third number ("Lord,

make me to know the Measure of my Days on Earth") opens with a baritone

solo, followed by two choral fugues, which are solidly constructed,

though they are extremely difficult to sing, and call for a chorus of

unusual discipline and intelligence. The fourth, for chorus ("How lovely

is Thy Dwelling-place, O Lord of Hosts"), is in striking contrast with

its predecessor, being a slow movement, and very melodious in style. The

fifth ("Ye now are sorrowful, grieve not"), for soprano solo and chorus,

shows the composer's unusual power as a song-writer, as well as his

melodious attractiveness when melody answers his purpose. In the next

number, set for chorus with baritone solo responses ("Here on Earth we

have no continuing Place, we seek now a heavenly one"), the character of

the music changes again, and the resurrection of the dead is pictured in

fugal passages of tremendous power and difficulty. After the storm comes

the calm again in the finale ("Blessed are the Faithful who in the Lord

are sleeping"), which contains a reminiscence of the opening number, and

closes the work in a gentle, but deeply serious strain. It was the

"German Requiem" which first made Brahms famous; it confirmed all that

Schumann had said of him. Its great difficulties require an extraordinary

chorus and orchestra; but when these can be had, the power and beauty of

the work will always be conceded.

COSTA.

Michael Costa, the eminent conductor and composer, was born at Naples,

Feb. 4, 1810. Having displayed musical aptitude at a very early age, he

was placed in the Royal Academy of Music. Before his twenty-first year he

had composed several works, among them a mass for four voices, a "Dixit

Dominus," three symphonies, an oratorio, "La Passione," the ballet music

to "Kenilworth," and the operas, "Il Delitto punito," "Il Sospetto

funesto," "Il carcere d' Ildegonda," and "Malvina,"--the last for the San

Carlo at Naples. In 1829 he was sent to England by his master Zingarelli

to conduct one of the latter's compositions at Birmingham; and that

country thereafter became his home. The next year he was engaged at the

King's Theatre, now known as Her Majesty's, as piano-master, and two

years later became the musical director. He was the first to bring the

band to its proper place, though he had to make a hard fight against the

ballet, which at that time threatened to absorb both singers and

orchestra, and to sweep the musical drama from the stage. He succeeded,

however, and did much also to improve the composition of the orchestra.

While holding this position he wrote the ballets, "Une heure a Naples"

and "Sir Huon" for Taglioni, and "Alma" for Cerito, the beautiful

quartet, "Ecco quel fiero istante," and the operas "Malek Adhel" for

Paris in 1837, and "Don Carlos" for London in 1844. He remained at Her

Majesty's Theatre for fifteen years, during which time he did a great

work for singers and band, and reduced the ballet to its proper rank. In

1846 he left his position and went to the new Italian opera at Covent

Garden, where he remained for a quarter of a century, absolute in his

musical supremacy and free to deal with all works as he pleased, among

them those of Meyerbeer, at that time the most prominent composer in the

operatic world; for Wagner as yet was scarcely known. It is to Costa that

Meyerbeer owes his English reputation. In the same year (1846) he took

the direction of the Philharmonic orchestra, and two years later that of

the Sacred Harmonic Society, which he held until his death, and as

conductor of which he also directed the Handel festivals. In 1849 he was

engaged for the Birmingham festivals, and also conducted them until his

death. In 1854 he resigned his position with the Philharmonic, and his

successor, for a brief time only, was Richard Wagner. His oratorio,

"Eli," was composed for the Birmingham Festival of 1855, and his second

oratorio, "Naaman," for the same festival in 1864. In 1869 he was

knighted, and shortly afterwards, when his "Eli" was produced at

Stuttgart, it won for him the royal order of Frederick from the King of

Wuertemberg. He also had decorations from the sovereigns of Germany,

Turkey, Italy, and the Netherlands, in recognition of his musical

accomplishments. In 1871 he returned again to Her Majesty's Opera in the

capacity of "director of the music, composer, and conductor;" but a few

years ago he again dissolved his connection with it, and devoted himself

entirely to the private management and public direction of the Sacred

Harmonic Society, with which he was identified for over thirty years. He

died in April, 1884.

Eli.

The oratorio of "Eli," the text taken from the first book of Samuel, and

adapted by William Bartholomew, was first performed at the Birmingham

Festival, Aug. 29, 1855, under Costa's own direction, with Mesdames

Viardot and Novello and Messrs. Sims Reeves and Carl Formes in the

principal parts. The characters are Eli, Elkanah, Hannah, Samuel, the Man

of God, Saph the Philistine warrior, Hophni and Phinehas the sons of Eli,

and the Priests and Philistines as chorus. The story is not very

consistent in its outlines, and is fragmentary withal, the narrative of

the child Samuel being the central theme, around which are grouped the

tribulations of Elkanah and Hannah, the service of Eli the priest, the

revels of his profligate sons, and the martial deeds of the Philistines.

The overture opens with a pianissimo prelude for organ in chorale form,

followed by an orchestral fugue well worked up, but very quiet in

character. Indeed, the whole overture is mostly pianissimo. In striking

contrast follows the opening recitative for bass ("Blow ye the Trumpet"),

which is the signal for those instruments, and introduces the first

chorus ("Let us go to pray before the Lord"), beginning with a soft

staccato which gradually works up to a jubilant climax on the words "Make

a joyful Noise." A tenor solo for Elkanah is interwoven with the chorus,

which closes with broad, flowing harmony. The next number, a bass air

with chorus ("Let the People praise Thee"), is somewhat peculiar in its

construction. It begins with the air, which is slow and tender, and at

the close the chorus takes it in canon form. Then Eli intones

benedictions in chorale style, and the chorus responds with "Amens" in

full harmony at the end of each, making a very impressive effect. It is

followed by a very elaborate chorus ("Blessed be the Lord"), closing with

a fugue on the word "Amen," which is very clear and well worked up. The

next number is the sorrowful prayer of the barren and grieving Hannah

("Turn Thee unto me"), which is very expressive in its mournful

supplication, and splendidly contrasted with her joyous song after the

birth of Samuel, of which mention will be made in its proper connection.

Eli rebukes her, and a dialogue ensues, interrupted by the tender chorus,

"The Lord is good." The dialogue form is again renewed, this time by

Elkanah and Hannah, leading to a beautiful duet between them ("Wherefore

is thy Soul cast down?").

The character of the music now changes as we enter upon a long

drinking-chorus, with solos by the two revellers, Hophni and Phinehas

("For everything there is a Season"). The change from the seriousness of

the preceding numbers is very abrupt, and the music of the chorus is

decidedly of the conventional Italian drinking-song character. Eli

appears and rebukes them, and after a cantabile aria ("Thou shouldst mark

Iniquities"), a short chorus of Levites, for tenors and basses, ensues,

introducing a simple, but well-sustained chorale for full chorus ("How

mighty is Thy Name"). At this point the "Man of God" appears, rebuking

the Levites for their polluted offerings. His denunciations are declaimed

in strong, spirited phrases, accompanied by the chorus of the people

("They have profaned it"), beginning in unison. The scene now changes to

the camp of the Philistines, where Saph, their man of war, shouts out his

angry and boisterous defiance in his solo ("Philistines, hark, the

Trumpet sounding"). It is followed by a choral response from the

Philistines ("Speed us on to fight"), which is in the same robust and

stirring style, though the general effect is theatrical and somewhat

commonplace. Combined with it is a choral response by the priests of

Dagon, of an Oriental character. After this clash of sound follows an air

of a sombre style by Eli ("Hear my Prayer, O Lord"), the introduction and

accompaniment of which are very striking. The "Man of God" once more

appears, announcing the approaching death of Eli's sons to a weird,

sepulchral accompaniment of the reeds and trombones, and leading up to a

very effective duet between them ("Lord, cause Thy Face to shine upon Thy

Servant"). Another chorale ensues ("O make a joyful Noise"), and after a

brief recitative Hannah has a most exultant song, overflowing with love

and gratitude at the birth of Samuel ("I will extol Thee, O Lord"). The

first part closes with a brief recitative between Hannah and Eli,

preluding a fugued chorus ("Hosanna in the highest"), built up on two

motives and one of the most elaborate numbers in the oratorio.

The second part opens with a chaste and lovely melody, the morning prayer

of the child Samuel ("Lord, from my Bed again I rise"), followed with

some pretty recitative between the child and his parents, and an

unaccompanied quartet, set to the same choral theme that was heard in the

organ prelude to the overture. The next number is the long and showy

instrumental march of the Israelites, followed by two very striking

choruses,--the first ("Hold not Thy Peace and be not still, O God") of

which appeals for divine help against the enemy, and the second, an

allegro ("O God, make them like a Wheel"), leads into a fugue ("So

persecute them"), which is very energetic in character, and closes with

the martial hymn, "God and King of Jacob's Nation," sung to the melody of

the preceding march.

The oratorio abounds in contrasts, and here occurs another, the evening

prayer of Samuel ("This Night I lift my Heart to Thee"),--a pure, quiet

melody, gradually dying away as he drops asleep, and followed by an angel

chorus for female voices with harp accompaniment ("No Evil shall befall

thee"), the effect of which is very beautiful, especially in the

decrescendo at the close. A messenger suddenly arrives, announcing the

defeat of Israel by the Philistines, upon which the chorus bursts out

with one of the most telling numbers, both in the voice parts and the

descriptiveness of the accompaniment ("Woe unto us, we are spoiled!").

Some very dramatic recitative between Samuel and Eli follows, after which

the Levites join in the chorus, "Bless ye the Lord," opening with the

tenors and closing in four parts, with the call of Eli intervening

("Watchmen, what of the Night?"). A long recitative by Samuel ("The Lord

said"), foreshadowing the disasters to the house of Eli; an air by Eli

("Although my House be not with God"); a funeral chorus by the Israelites

("Lament with a doleful Lamentation"); further phrases of recitative

announcing more defeats of Israel, the capture of the ark, the death of

Eli and his sons, and an appeal by Samuel to blow the trumpet, calling a

solemn assembly to implore the pity of the Lord,--prepare the way for the

final chorus ("Blessed be the Lord"), closing with a fugue on the word

"Hallelujah."

The oratorio was first given in this country by the Boston Handel and

Haydn Society, Feb. 15, 1857, under the direction of Carl Zerrahn, with

Mr. Thomas Ball as Eli and also as Saph, Mr. Wilde as the Man of God, Mr.

C. R. Adams as Elkanah, Mrs. Long as Hannah, and Miss Hawley in the

contralto part of Samuel. Writing of that performance, Mr. Dwight, the

careful and discriminating critic, summed up the work as follows: "As a

whole, 'Eli' is a noble and impressive oratorio. The composition is

learned and musician-like, and generally appropriate, tasteful,

dignified, often beautiful, and occasionally grand. It is by no means a

work of genius, but it is a work of high musical culture, and indicates a

mind imbued with the best traditions and familiar with the best masters

of the art, and a masterly command of all the modern musical resources,

except the 'faculty divine,'"--which, we may be permitted to say, is not

included in "modern musical resources." The characterization of the

oratorio, however, is thoroughly pertinent and complete. It is somewhat

remarkable that a work so excellent and having so many elements of

popularity should not be given more frequently in this country.

ANTON DVORAK.

Anton Dvorak, the Bohemian composer who has risen so suddenly into

prominence, was born at Muelhausen, near Prague, Sept. 8, 1841. His father

combined the businesses of tavern-keeper and butcher, and young Dvorak

assisted him in waiting upon customers, as well as in the slaughtering

business. As the laws of Bohemia stipulate that music shall be a part of

common-school education, Dvorak learned the rudiments in the village

school, and also received violin instruction. At the age of thirteen he

went to work for an uncle who resided in a village where the schoolmaster

was a proficient musician. The latter, recognizing his ability, gave him

lessons on the organ, and allowed him to copy music. Piano-lessons

followed, and he had soon grounded himself quite thoroughly in

counterpoint. At the age of sixteen he was admitted to the organ-school

at Prague, of which Joseph Pitsch was the principal. Pitsch died shortly

after, and was succeeded by Kreyci, who made Dvorak acquainted with the

music of Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn. The first orchestral work

which he heard was Beethoven's "Ninth Symphony," during its rehearsal

under Spohr's direction. In 1860, being then in his nineteenth year, he

obtained an engagement, with the meagre salary of $125 a year, as

violinist in a band that played at cafes and dances. Two years later he

secured a position in the Bohemian Opera-House at Prague, then under the

direction of Mayer, where he remained until 1871, in which year he left

the theatre and devoted himself to teaching, with the prospect of earning

$250 a year. These were hard days for the young musician; but while he

was thus struggling for a bare subsistence he continued writing

compositions, though he had no prospect of selling them or of having them

played. One writer remarks on this point: "It is far from difficult to

compare him in this respect with that marvellous embodiment of patience

and enthusiasm, Franz Schubert; only, more fortunate than the Viennese

master, the Bohemian has lived to receive his reward. Between these two

men another point of resemblance appears. Neither can be charged with

pushing or intriguing himself into prominence. Schubert had plenty of

artistic ambition, but of personal ambition none; while the quality he so

entirely lacked cannot be accredited to Dvorak, who spent the best part

of his life in the enjoyment of merely local fame." About this time he

wrote his "Patriotic Hymn" and the opera "Koenig und Koehler." The latter

was rejected after an orchestral trial; but he continued his work,

undaunted by failure. Shortly after this he received the appointment of

organist at the Adelbert Church, Prague, and fortune began to smile upon

him. His symphony in F was laid before the Minister of Instruction in

Vienna, and upon the recommendation of Herbeck secured him a grant of

$200. When Brahms replaced Herbeck on the committee which reported upon

artists' stipends, he fully recognized Dvorak's ability, and not only

encouraged him, but also brought him before the world by securing him a

publisher and commending him to Joachim, who still further advanced his

interests by securing performances of his works in Germany and England.

Since that time he has risen rapidly, and is now recognized as one of the

most promising of living composers. Among his works which have been

produced during the past few years are the "Stabat Mater," the cantata

"The Spectre Bride," three operas in the Czechist dialect, three

orchestral symphonies, several Slavonic rhapsodies, overtures, violin and

piano concertos, an exceedingly beautiful sextet, and numerous songs.

The Stabat Mater.

Dvorak's "Stabat Mater" was written in 1875. It was sent to the Austrian

Minister of Instruction, but was not deemed worthy of the grant of $200

which the composer had expected. Its merit was subsequently recognized by

Brahms and Joachim, and the latter secured a hearing of it in London in

1883. It immediately made its composer famous. The Philharmonic Society

invited him to London, and the work was given with great success at the

Albert Hall, and later at the Worcester and Hereford festivals. It was in

England indeed that his celebrity was established, and for that country

all his new works are now written.

The "Stabat Mater" is written for soli, chorus, and orchestra, and

comprises ten numbers. The first is the quartet and chorus, "Stabat Mater

dolorosa," and carries the old Latin hymn as far as the "Quis est homo."

After an orchestral introduction which gives out the principal motives on

which the number is based, the vocal quartet begins. The materials of

which it is composed are very simple, but they are worked up with great

technical skill. The general effect is tragic rather than pathetic, as if

the composer were contemplating not so much the grief of the Virgin

Mother at the foot of the Cross as the awful nature of the tragedy itself

and its far-reaching consequences.

The second number is the quartet "Quis est homo." After a short

introduction, the theme is taken by the alto, followed by the tenor and

bass, and lastly by the soprano, the general structure growing more

elaborate at each entrance. After the second subject is introduced a

splendid climax is reached, and in the coda the voices whisper the words

"vidit suum" to an accompaniment of wind instruments in sustained and

impressive chords.

The third number, "Eia Mater," is built up on an exceedingly brief

motive, which is augmented with surprising power in choral form. It is a

work of scholarly skill, and yet is full of charm and grace, and will

always commend itself even to the untutored hearer by its tenderness and

pathetic beauty.

The fourth number, "Fac ut ardeat cor meum," for bass solo and chorus,

like the third is most skilfully constructed out of small materials, and

has a fine contrast between the solo and the chorus, which at its

entrance is assigned to the female voices only, with organ accompaniment.

The fifth number is the chorus "Tui nati vulnerati," which is remarkable

for the smooth and flowing manner in which its two subjects are treated.

The sixth number, "Fac me vere tecum flere," for tenor solo and chorus,

is very elaborate in its construction. A stately theme is given out by

the tenor, repeated in three-part harmony by male voices, the

accompaniment being independent in form; the subject then returns, first

for solo, and then for male voices, in varying harmonies. After a brief

vocal episode the subject reappears in still different form, and,

followed by the episode worked up at length in a coda, brings the number

to its close.

The seventh number, "Virgo, virgonum praeclara," for full chorus, is

marked by great simplicity and tenderness, and will always be one of the

most popular sections of the work.

The eighth number, "Fac ut portem," is a duet for soprano and tenor,

responsive in character, and constructed on very simple phrases presented

in varying forms both by the voices and orchestra.

The ninth number, "Inflammatus et accensus," is one of the most masterly

in the whole work. It is an alto solo composed of two subjects, the first

very majestic, and the second pathetic in character, forming a contrast

of great power and beauty.

The tenth and closing number, "Quando corpus morietur," for quartet and

chorus, is constructed substantially upon the same themes which appeared

in the "Stabat Mater," and closes with an "Amen" of a massive character,

exhibiting astonishing contrapuntal skill. One of the best English

critics says of the whole work:--

"The 'Stabat Mater' approaches as near to greatness as possible, if it

be not actually destined to rank among world-renowned masterpieces. It

is fresh and new, while in harmony with the established canons of art;

and though apparently labored and over-developed in places, speaks with

the force and directness of genius."

GOUNOD.

Charles Francois Gounod was born in Paris, June 17, 1818. His fame has

been made world-wide by the extraordinary success of his opera "Faust,"

and yet more than almost any other operatic composer of modern times he

has devoted himself to sacred music. His earlier studies were pursued in

Paris at the Conservatory, under the tuition of Paer and Lesueur, and in

1839 the receipt of the Grand Prix gave him the coveted opportunity to go

to Italy. In the atmosphere of Rome religious influences made a strong

impression upon him. He devoted himself assiduously to the study of

Palestrina, and among his first important compositions were a mass

performed at the Church of San Luigi dei Francesi in 1841, and a second,

written without accompaniment, which was given in Vienna two years later.

On his return to Paris, religious ideas still retained their sway over

him, and he became organist and conductor at the Missions etrangeres. He

even contemplated taking orders, and attended a theological course for

two years. In 1846 he became a pupil at the Seminaire; but at last he

gave up his priestly intentions and devoted himself wholly to musical

composition, though he has been, if not a devotee, a religious enthusiast

all his life, and that too in the midst of a peculiarly worldly career.

It was about this period that he wrote his "Messe Solenelle" in G,--the

first of his compositions that was ever produced in England. It was

cordially received, and he was universally recognized as a promising

musician. For many years succeeding this event he devoted himself mainly

to secular music, and opera after opera rapidly came from his

pen,--"Sappho" (1851); "Nonne Sanglante" (1854); "Le Medecin malgre lui"

(1858); "Faust," his greatest work, and one of the most successful of

modern operas (1859); "Philemon et Baucis" (1860); "Reine de Saba"

(1862); "Mireille" (1864); "La Colombe" (1866); "Romeo et Juliette"

(1867); "Cinq Mars" (1877), and "Polyeucte" (1878). Notwithstanding the

attention he gave to opera and to much other secular music, he found

ample time for the composition of sacred works. In 1852, while in Paris,

he became conductor of the Orpheon, and for the pupils of that

institution he composed two masses. He has also written a great number of

pieces for choir use which are very popular, and deservedly so,

particularly the beautiful song "Nazareth." Among his larger works are a

"Stabat Mater," with orchestral accompaniment; the oratorio "Tobie;" a

"De Profundis" and an "Ave Verum;" and the two oratorios, "The

Redemption," performed at Birmingham in 1882, and "Mors et Vita," brought

out at the same place in 1885. The composer is now engaged upon the

scheme of a new oratorio, the career of Joan of Arc being its subject. It

may be said in closing this sketch, which has been mainly confined to a

consideration of his sacred compositions, as his operatic career has been

fully treated in "Standard Operas," that in 1873 he wrote the incidental

music to Jules Barbier's tragedy, "Jeanne d'Arc," which may have inspired

his determination to write an oratorio on the same subject.

The Redemption.

"The Redemption, a Sacred Trilogy," is the title which Gounod gave to

this work, and on its opening page he wrote: "The work of my life." In a

note appended to his description of its contents he says:--

"It was during the autumn of the year 1867 that I first thought of

composing a musical work on the Redemption. I wrote the words at Rome,

where I passed two months of the winter 1867-68 with my friend Hebert,

the celebrated painter, at that time director of the Academy of France.

Of the music I then composed only two fragments: first, 'The March to

Calvary' in its entirety; second, the opening of the first division of

the third part, 'The Pentecost.' Twelve years afterwards I finished the

work, which had so long been interrupted, with a view to its being

performed at the festival at Birmingham in 1882."

It was brought out, as he contemplated, in August of that year, and the

production was a memorable one. It was first heard in this country in the

winter of 1883-84 under Mr. Theodore Thomas's direction, and was one of

the prominent works in his series of festivals in the latter year.

Gounod himself has prefaced the music with an admirably concise

description of the text and its various subjects. Of its general contents

he says:

"This work is a lyrical setting forth of the three great facts on which

depends the existence of the Christian Church. These facts are,--first,

the passion and the death of the Saviour; second, his glorious life on

earth from his resurrection to his ascension; third, the spread of

Christianity in the world through the mission of the Apostles. These

three parts of the present trilogy are preceded by a prologue on the

creation, the fall of our first parents, and the promise of a

redeemer."

The divisions of the work are as follows:--

Prologue.--The Creation.

Part I.--Calvary.

Part II.--From the Resurrection to the Ascension.

Part III.--The Pentecost.

The prologue comprises the Mosaic account of the creation and fall of

man, involving the necessity of divine mediation, the promise of

redemption, and the annunciation of the mystery of the incarnation of the

Holy Virgin. After a brief instrumental introduction, descriptive of

chaos, the tenor Narrator announces the completion of creation in

recitative, followed by a similar declamation from the bass Narrator

announcing the fall of man, the tenor Narrator answering with the

announcement of the Redeemer's advent ("But of the Spotless Lamb"), in

which we have for the first time a genuine Wagnerian _leit motif_, which

runs through the music of the oratorio whenever allusion is made to the

divine atonement. This typical melody is heard nine times,--three times

in the prologue, twice in the scene of the crucifixion, once in our

Saviour's promise to the thieves on the cross, once in his appearance to

the holy women, and twice in the ascension. It is first given out as a

violin solo, and at the close of the tenor recitative is repeated by all

the strings, leading to the mystic chorale, "The Earth is my Possession,"

to be sung by a celestial choir of twenty-eight voices. At its close the

typical melody is introduced in responsive form between flute and

clarinet. To the first, the angelic message of the annunciation, Gounod

has affixed the title, "Ave, gratia plena;" and to the second, the reply

of Mary, "Fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum."

The first part includes the march to Calvary, which is divided into six

separate numbers, yet so connected as to make a single musical

series,--the crucifixion, Mary at the foot of the cross, the dying

thieves, the death of Jesus, and the confession of his divinity by the

centurion. It opens with the story of the condemnation of the Man of

Sorrows by Pilate, told by the bass Narrator, the words of Jesus himself,

however, being used invariably in the first person, and sung by the

baritone voice, as when he says, "If my Deeds have been evil,"

immediately following the bass recitative. After another monologue by the

Narrator, ensues the march to the cross,--an instrumental number which is

brilliant in its color effects and somewhat barbaric in tone. Without any

break, the sopranos enter with the words, "Forth the Royal Banners go,"

set to a melody from the Roman Catholic liturgy; after which the march is

resumed. The bass Narrator tells the story of the women who followed

lamenting, interrupted by a semi-chorus of sopranos singing the lament,

and by the words of Jesus, "Ye Daughters of Israel, weep not for me."

Again the march is heard, and the sopranos resume ("Forth the Royal

Banners go"). The tenor Narrator recites the preparation for the

crucifixion, accompanied by very descriptive music, and followed by a

stormy chorus of the People ("Ha! thou that didst declare"), and the

mocking cries of the priests ("Can he now save himself?"), sung by a male

chorus. In a pathetic monologue Jesus appeals for their pardon, which

leads to an elaborate concerted number for chorus or quartet, called "The

Reproaches." A conversation ensues between Jesus and Mary, followed by

the quartet, "Beside the Cross remaining," in canon form, preluding the

chorale, "While my Watch I am keeping," at first sung by Mary, and then

taken up by the full chorus, accompanied by organ, trombones, and

trumpets. The next scene is that between Jesus and the two Thieves, which

also leads to a chorale ("Lord Jesus, thou to all bringest Light and

Salvation"). This number contains the last touch of brightness in the

first part. Immediately the bass Narrator announces the approach of the

awful tragedy. The gathering darkness is pictured by a vivid passage for

strings and clarinet, succeeded by the agonizing cries of the Saviour.

The bass Narrator declares the consummation of the tragedy, and then with

the tenor Narrator describes the throes of Nature ("And then the Air was

filled with a Murmur unwonted"), the rending of the veil of the Temple,

the breaking of the rocks, the earthquake, and the visions of the saintly

apparitions. The last number is the conviction of the centurion, followed

by a short chorale ("For us the Christ is made a Victim availing").

The second part includes the announcement of the doctrine of the

resurrection by the mystic chorus, the appearance of the Angel to the

Holy Women at the sepulchre, that of Jesus to them while on the way to

Galilee, the consternation of the Sanhedrim when it is learned that the

tomb is empty, the meeting of the Holy Women and the Apostles, the

appearance of Jesus to the latter, and his final ascension. It opens with

a chorus for the mystic choir ("Saviour of Men"), followed by a short

pastorale with muted strings and leading to a trio for the three Women

("How shall we by ourselves have Strength to roll away the Stone?").

Their apprehensions are removed by the tenor Narrator and the message of

the Angel interwoven with the harp and conveyed in the beautiful aria,

"Why seek ye the Living among the Dead?" Jesus at last reveals himself to

the Women with the words, "All hail! Blessed are ye Women," accompanied

by the typical melody, of which mention has already been made. The three

Women disappear on the way to convey his message to the Disciples, and

the scene changes to the Sanhedrim, where, in a tumultuous and agitated

chorus for male voices ("Christ is risen again"), the story of the empty

tomb is told by the Watchers. The bass Narrator relates the amazement of

the priests and elders, and their plot to bribe the guard, leading to the

chorus for male voices ("Say ye that in the Night his Disciples have come

and stolen him away"), at the close of which ensues a full, massive

chorus ("Now, behold ye the Guard, this, your Sleep-vanquished Guard"),

closing with the denunciation in unison ("For Ages on your Heads shall

Contempt be outpoured"). The tenor and bass Narrators in duet tell of the

sorrow of the Disciples, which prepares the way for a lovely trio for

first and second soprano and alto ("The Lord he has risen again"). The

next number is one of the most effective in the whole work,--a soprano

obligato solo, accompanied by the full strength of chorus and orchestra,

to the words:

"From thy love as a Father,

O Lord, teach us to gather

That life will conquer death.

They who seek things eternal

Shall rise to light supernal

On wings of lovely faith."

In the close the effect is sublime, the climax reaching to C in alt with

the full power of the accompanying forces. Then follows a dialogue

between the Saviour and his Apostles, in which he gives them their

mission to the world. The finale then begins with a massive chorus

("Unfold, ye Portals everlasting"). The celestial chorus above,

accompanied by harps and trumpets, inquire, "But who is he, the King of

Glory?" The answer comes in a stately unison by the terrestrial chorus,

"He who Death overcame." Again the question is asked, and again it is

answered; whereupon the two choirs are massed in the jubilant chorus,

"Unfold! for lo the King comes nigh!" the full orchestra and organ

sounding the Redemption melody, and the whole closing with a fanfare of

trumpets.

The third part includes the prophecy of the millennium, the descent of

the Holy Ghost to the Apostles, the Pentecostal manifestations, and the

Hymn of the Apostles. The latter is so important that the composer's own

analysis is appended:--

"This division of the third part of the work, the last and one of the

most highly developed of the trilogy, comprises seven numbers, and

gives a summary of the Christian faith.

"1. The Apostles first proclaim the three great doctrines of the

Incarnation of the Word, his eternal generation, and his continual

presence with his Church. This first number is written in a style which

is intended to recall the form and rhythm of the chants called 'Proses'

in the Catholic liturgy.

"2. Quartet and Chorus. 'By faith salvation comes, and by peace

consolation.'

"3. Chorus. His power manifested by miracles.

"4. Quartet. 'O come to me, all ye that are sad and that weep.'

"5. Semi-Chorus. The Beatitudes.

"6. Repetition of the theme of No. 1, with the whole choir, the

orchestra, and the great organ.

"7. Final Coda. Glorification of the Most Holy Trinity throughout all

ages."

This part of the oratorio, after a short instrumental prelude, opens with

a brief chorus ("Lovely appear over the Mountains"), followed by a

soprano solo, the only distinct number of that kind in the work, set to

the words, "Over the barren Wastes shall Flowers have possession," at its

close the chorus resuming in unison, "Lovely appear over the Mountains."

The next number is "The Apostles in Prayer," an instrumental sketch,

followed by the Narrators relating the descent of the Holy Spirit.

Without break, the Apostles' Hymn begins, tenors and basses in unison

("The Word is Flesh become") leading into the quartet of solo voices ("By

Faith Salvation comes, and by Peace, Consolation"). The chorus responds

antiphonally, and again the solo voices are heard in a lovely quartet

("He has said to all the Unhappy"), followed by a small choir of thirty

voices ("Blessed are the poor in Spirit"), at the end of which all the

voices are massed on the Apostles' Hymn, which closes in fugal form on

the words, "He like the Holy Ghost is one with the Father, an everlasting

Trinity," the whole ending in massive chords.

Mors et Vita.

The oratorio "Mors et Vita" ("Death and Life") is the continuation of

"The Redemption," and, like that work also, is a trilogy. It was first

performed at the Birmingham Festival, Aug. 26, 1885, under the direction

of Herr Hans Richter, the principal parts being sung by Mesdames Albani

and Patey and Messrs. Santley and Lloyd. Its companion oratorio, "The

Redemption," was dedicated to Queen Victoria, and itself to His Holiness

Pope Leo XIII. In his preface to the work, Gounod says:--

"It will perhaps be asked why, in the title, I have placed death before

life, although in the order of temporal things life precedes death.

Death is only the end of that existence which dies each day; it is only

the end of a continual 'dying.' But it is the first moment, and, as it

were, the birth of that which dies no more. I cannot here enter into a

detailed analysis of the different musical forms which express the

meaning and idea of this work. I do not wish to expose myself to the

reproach either of pretension or subtlety. I shall therefore confine

myself to pointing out the essential features of the ideas I have

wished to express,--that is to say, the tears which death causes us to

shed here below; the hope of a better life; the solemn dread of

unerring justice; the tender and filial trust in eternal love."

The composer further calls attention in his preface to the use of

representative themes, an illustration of which was also noted in "The

Redemption." The first one, consisting of four notes, presenting a

sequence of three major seconds, is intended to express "the terror

inspired by the sense of the inflexibility of justice and, in

consequence, by that of the anguish of punishment. Its sternness gives

expression both to the sentences of divine justice and the sufferings of

the condemned, and is found in combination throughout the whole work,

with melodic forms which express sentiments altogether different, as in

the 'Sanctus' and the 'Pie Jesu' in the 'Requiem,' which forms the first

part." It is first heard in the opening chorus, and for the last time in

the quartet of the third part. The second melodic form, expressive of

sorrow and tears, by the change of a single note and the use of the major

key is made to express consolation and joy. "The third," says Gounod, "by

means of threefold superposition, results in the interval of an augmented

fifth, and announces the awakening of the dead at the terrifying call of

the angelic trumpets, of which Saint Paul speaks in one of his epistles

to the Corinthians."

The oratorio is divided into a prologue and three parts, the Latin text

being used throughout. The first part is entitled "Mors," and opens with

the prologue, which is brief, followed by the "Requiem," interspersed

with texts of a reflective character commenting upon the sentiment. The

second part is entitled "Judicium" ("Judgment"), and includes (1) The

Sleep of the Dead; (2) The Trumpets at the Last Judgment; (3) The

Resurrection of the Dead; (4) The Judge; (5) The Judgment of the Elect;

(6) The Judgment of the Rejected. The third part is entitled "Vita," and

includes the vision of Saint John, the text being taken from the

Apocalypse; the work closing with an "Hosanna in Excelsis," exulting in

the glorious vision of the heavenly Jerusalem.

The prologue, which is sustained by the chorus and baritone solo,

declares the terrors of death and the judgment. The chorus intones the

words, "It is a Fearful Thing to fall into the Hands of the Living God,"

and in this phrase is heard the chief motive, heavily accented by the

percussion instruments,--the motive which typifies death both of the body

and of the unredeemed soul. Immediately after follows the baritone voice,

that of Jesus, in the familiar words, "I am the Resurrection and the

Life." The chorus repeats the declaration, and the Requiem Mass then

begins, divided into various sections, of which the "Dies Irae" is the

most important; this in turn subdivided in the conventional form. After

an adagio prelude and the intonation of the "Requiem aeternam," an

interpolated text occurs ("From the Morning Watch till the Evening"), set

as a double chorus without accompaniment, in the genuine Church style of

the old masters. It leads directly to the "Dies Irae," in which the death

motive already referred to frequently occurs. It is laid out in duets,

quartets, and arias, with and without chorus, very much in the same tempo

and of the same character of melody. The verse, "Ah! what shall we then

be pleading?" for quartet and chorus, is remarkable for its attractive

melody. It is followed by a soprano solo and chorus ("Happy are we, with

such a Saviour") of a reflective character, which gives out still another

very tuneful melody. The hymn is then resumed with the verse, "Faint and

worn, thou yet hast sought us," for duet and chorus, which is of the same

general character. The next verse, "Lord, for Anguish hear us moaning,"

for quartet and chorus, is very effective and elaborate in its

construction, particularly as compared with that immediately following

("With the Faithful deign to place us"), a tenor solo of a quaint and

pastoral character. The next number for chorus ("While the wicked are

confounded") affords still another striking contrast, being in the

grandiose style and very dramatic, closing with phrases for the solo

voices expressive of submission and contrition. Up to this point the

"Dies Irae" has been monotonous in its sameness of general style; but the

next verse ("Day of Weeping, Day of Mourning") is a beautiful and

thoroughly original number of very striking effect. It leads directly to

the offertory ("O Lord Jesus Christ, King of Glory"), which is composed

of a chorus for eight parts, a soprano solo ("But, Lord, do thou bring

them evermore"), a chorus ("Which once to Abraham"), and a second chorus

("Sacrifice of Prayer and Praise"). The soprano solo is a delightful

melody, sung to a delicate accompaniment of the strings, with occasional

chords on the harp, and based upon the beautiful second typical motive,

which the composer styles "The Motive of Happiness." The chorus, "Which

once to Abraham," is set in fugue form, which is the conventional style

among composers with this number; but, as in "The Redemption," whenever

Gounod employs the fugue form, he drops it as soon as the four voices

have fairly launched themselves.

The next number is the "Sanctus,"--a beautiful tenor aria with chorus,

full of that sweetness which is so characteristic of Gounod. It is

followed by the quartet, "Mighty Saviour, Jesus blest," which is deeply

religious in character; the lovely soprano solo and chorus, "Agnus Dei;"

and the chorus, "Lord, forever let Light Eternal." The first part is

rounded off with an epilogue, an interlude for full orchestra and organ,

based upon the first and second typical melodies, forming a consistent

and stately finale to this part of the work.

The second part is peculiar for the prominence which the composer assigns

to the orchestra. It opens with a well-sustained, gentle adagio movement,

entitled "The Sleep of the Dead," which at times is somewhat harshly

interrupted by the third typical melody, announcing the awakening of the

dead at the terrifying call of the angelic trumpets. This is specially

noticeable in that part of the prelude called "The Trumpet of the Last

Judgment," in which the trombones, trumpets, and tubas are employed with

extraordinary effect. Still a third phrase of the prelude occurs,--"The

Resurrection of the Dead,"--which is smooth and flowing in its style, and

peculiarly rich in harmony. A brief recitative by baritone ("But when the

Son of Man") intervenes, immediately followed by another instrumental

number, entitled "Judex" ("The Judge"),--one of the most effective pieces

of orchestration in the oratorio, based upon the motive which indicates

the tempering of justice with mercy, given out by the strings in unison.

It preludes a short chorus ("Sitting upon the Throne"), the previous

melody still continuing in the orchestra. The "Judgment of the Elect"

follows, pronounced by the baritone voice in recitative, and leading

directly to the soprano solo, "The Righteous shall enter into Glory

eternal,"--the most exquisite solo number in the work,--followed by an

effective chorale ("In Remembrance everlasting"). Then follows "The

Judgment of the Rejected," consisting of baritone solos and chorus,

closing the second part.

The third part celebrates the delights of the celestial city as pictured

in the apocalyptic vision of Saint John, and is in marked contrast to the

gloom and sombreness of the Requiem music, as well as the terrors of the

Judgment. It is bright, jubilant, and exultant throughout. The title of

the prelude is "New Heaven, New Earth." The baritone intones the

recitative ("And I saw the New Heaven"), which is followed by another

delightful sketch for the orchestra ("Celestial Jerusalem"),--a most

vivid and graphic picture of the subject it describes. The remaining

prominent numbers are the "Sanctus" chorus, the celestial chorus ("I am

Alpha and Omega"), and the final chorus ("Hosanna in Excelsis"), which

closes this remarkable work.

The weakest part of the oratorio is the "Requiem," which suffers from the

monotony of its divisions, especially when compared with the treatment of

requiems by the great composers who have made them a special study. As

compared with the "Redemption," however, it is more interesting, because

it is more melodious and less cumbered with recitative. It is also

peculiarly noticeable for the free manner in which the composer uses the

orchestra, and the skill with which the typical melodies are employed, as

compared with which the solitary "Redemption" motive seems weak and thin.

Both works are full of genuine religious sentiment, and taken together

cover almost the entire scope of human aspiration so far as it relates to

the other world. No composer has conceived a broader scheme for oratorio.

Though Gounod does not always reach the sublime and majestic heights of

the old masters in sacred music, yet the feeling manifested in these

works is never anything but religious; the hearer is always surrounded by

an atmosphere of devotion.

HANDEL.

George Frederick Handel was born at Halle, in Lower Saxony, Feb. 23,

1685, and, like many another composer, revealed his musical promise at a

very early age, only to encounter parental opposition. His father

intended him to be a lawyer; but Nature had her way, and in spite of

domestic antagonism triumphed. The Duke of Saxe-Weissenfels recognized

his ability and overcame the father's determination. Handel began his

studies with Zachau, organist of the Halle cathedral. After the death of

his father, in 1697, he went to Hamburg, and for a time played in the

orchestra of the German opera. It was during his residence in that city

that he wrote his first opera, "Almira" (1705). In the following year he

went to Italy, where he remained several months under the patronage of

the Grand Duke of Florence. During the next two years he visited Venice,

Rome, and Naples, and wrote several operas and minor oratorios. In 1709

he returned to Germany, and the Elector of Hanover, subsequently George

I. of England, offered him the position of Capellmeister, which he

accepted upon the condition that he might visit England, having received

many invitations from that country. The next year he arrived in London

and brought out his opera of "Rinaldo," which proved a great success. At

the end of six months he was obliged to return to his position in

Hanover; but his English success made him impatient of the dulness of the

court. In 1712 he was in London again, little dreaming that the Elector

would soon follow him as king. Incensed with him for leaving Hanover, the

King at first refused to receive him; but some music which Handel

composed for an aquatic fete in his honor brought about the royal

reconciliation. In 1718 he accepted the position of chapel-master to the

Duke of Chandos, for whom he wrote the famous Chandos Te Deum and

Anthems, the serenata "Acis and Galatea," and "Esther," his first English

oratorio. In 1720 he was engaged as director of Italian opera by the

society of noblemen known as the Royal Academy of Music, and from that

time until 1740 his career was entirely of an operatic character. Opera

after opera came from his pen. Some were successful, others failed. At

first composer, then director, he finally became _impresario_, only to

find himself confronted with bitter rivalry, especially at the hands of

Buononcini and Porpora. Cabals were instituted against him. Unable to

contend with them alone, he formed a partnership with Heidegger,

proprietor of the King's Theatre, in 1729. It was broken in 1734, and he

took the management of Covent Garden. The Italian conspiracies against

him broke out afresh. He failed in his undertaking, and became a

bankrupt. In eight years he had lost $51,000 in Italian opera. Slanders

of all sorts were circulated against him, and his works were no longer

well received. In the midst of his adversity sickness overtook him,

ending with a partial stroke of paralysis. When sufficiently recovered,

he went to the Continent, where he remained for a few months. On his

return to London he brought out some new works, but they were not

favorably received. A few friends who had remained faithful to him

persuaded him to give a benefit concert, which was a great success. It

inspired him with fresh courage; but he did not again return to the

operatic world. Thenceforward he devoted himself to oratorio, in which he

made his name famous for all time. He himself said: "Sacred music is best

suited to a man descending in the vale of years." "Saul" and the colossal

"Israel in Egypt," written in 1740, head the list of his wonderful

oratorios. In 1741 he was invited to visit Ireland. He went there in

November, and many of his works were produced during the winter and

received with great enthusiasm. In April, 1742, his immortal "Messiah"

was brought out at Dublin. It was followed by "Samson," "Joseph,"

"Semele," "Belshazzar," and "Hercules," which were also successful; but

even in the midst of his oratorio work his rivals did not cease their

conspiracies against him, and in 1744 he was once more a bankrupt. For

over a year his pen was idle. In 1746 the "Occasional Oratorio" and

"Judas Maccabaeus" appeared, and these were speedily followed by "Joshua,"

"Solomon," "Susanna," "Theodora," and "Jephtha." It was during the

composition of the last-named work that he was attacked with the illness

which finally proved fatal. He died April 14, 1759, and was buried in

Westminster Abbey. During the last few days of his life he was heard to

express the wish that he "might breathe his last on Good Friday, in hopes

of meeting his good God, his sweet Lord and Saviour, on the day of his

resurrection." The wish was granted him; for it was on Good Friday that

he passed away, leaving behind him a name and fame that will be cherished

so long as music retains its power over the human heart.

Israel in Egypt.

"Israel in Egypt," the fifth of the nineteen oratorios which Handel

composed in England, was written in 1738. The Exodus, which is now the

second part, was written between the 1st and the 11th of October, and was

superscribed, "Moses' Song, Exodus, Chap. xv., begun Oct. 1, 1738;" and

at the close was written, "Fine, Oct. 11, 1738." It is evident from this

that the work was at first written as a cantata, but that Handel on

reflection decided that the plagues of Egypt would not only be a good

subject, but would also prove a logical historical introduction to the

second part. Four days later he began the first part, and finished it on

the 1st of November,--the composition of the whole of this colossal work

thus occupying but twenty-seven days. It was first performed as "Israel

in Egypt," April 4, 1739, at the King's Theatre, of which Handel was then

manager. It was given the second time April 11, "with alterations and

additions," the alterations having been made in order to admit of the

introduction of songs. The third performance took place April 17, upon

which occasion the "Funeral Anthem," which he had written for Queen

Caroline, was used as a first part and entitled, "Lamentations of the

Israelites for the Death of Joseph." During the lifetime of Handel the

oratorio was only performed nine times, for in spite of its excellence,

it was a failure. For many years after his death it was produced in

mutilated form; but in 1849 the Sacred Harmonic Society of London gave it

as it was originally written and as we know it now, without the Funeral

Anthem or any of the songs which had been introduced.

The text of the oratorio is supposed to have been written by Handel

himself, though the words are taken literally from the Bible. Schoelcher

says:

"The manuscript does not contain any of the names of the personages.

Nevertheless, the handbook, which includes the extracts from Solomon

for the first parts, has in this part the names of personages (High

Priest, Joseph, Israelite woman, Israelite man), as if the composer

wished to throw it into a dramatic form. The words in their Biblical

simplicity form a poem eminently dramatic."

The first part opens with the wail of the Israelites over the burdens

imposed upon them by their Egyptian taskmasters, and then in rapid

succession follow the plagues,--the water of the Nile turned to blood,

the reptiles swarming even into the king's chambers, the pestilence

scourging man and beast, the insect-cloud heralding the locusts, the

pelting hail and the fire running along the ground, the thick darkness,

and the smiting of the first-born. Then come the passage of the Red Sea

and the escape from bondage, closing the first part. The second part

opens with the triumphant song of Moses and the Children of Israel

rejoicing over the destruction of Pharaoh's host, and closes with the

exultant strain of Miriam the prophetess, "Sing ye to the Lord, for He

hath triumphed gloriously; the Horse and his Rider hath He thrown into

the Sea."

"Israel in Egypt" is essentially a choral oratorio. It comprises no less

than twenty-eight massive double choruses, linked together by a few bars

of recitative, with five arias and three duets interspersed among them.

Unlike Handel's other oratorios, there is no overture or even prelude to

the work. Six bars of recitative for tenor ("Now there arose a new King

over Egypt which knew not Joseph") suffice to introduce it, and lead

directly to the first double chorus ("And the Children of Israel

sighed"), the theme of which is first given out by the altos of one choir

with impressive pathos. The chorus works up to a climax of great force on

the phrase, "And their Cry came up unto God," the two choruses developing

with consummate power the two principal subjects,--first, the cry for

relief, and second, the burden of oppression; and closing with the phrase

above mentioned, upon which they unite in simple but majestic harmony.

Then follow eight more bars of recitative for tenor, and the long series

of descriptive choruses begins, in which Handel employs the imitative

power of music in the boldest manner. The first is the plague of the

water turned to blood, "They loathed to drink of the River,"--a single

chorus in fugue form, based upon a theme which is closely suggestive of

the sickening sensations of the Egyptians, and increases in loathsomeness

to the close, as the theme is variously treated. The next number is an

aria for mezzo soprano voice ("Their Land brought forth Frogs"), the air

itself serious and dignified, but the accompaniment imitative throughout

of the hopping of these lively animals. It is followed by the plague of

insects, whose afflictions are described by the double chorus. The tenors

and basses in powerful unison declare, "He spake the Word," and the reply

comes at once from the sopranos and altos, "And there came all Manner of

Flies," set to a shrill, buzzing, whirring accompaniment, which increases

in volume and energy as the locusts appear, but bound together solidly

with the phrase of the tenors and basses frequently repeated, and

presenting a sonorous background to this fancy of the composer in insect

imitation. From this remarkable chorus we pass to another still more

remarkable, the familiar Hailstone Chorus ("He gave them Hailstones for

Rain"), which, like the former, is closely imitative. Before the two

choirs begin, the orchestra prepares the way for the on-coming storm.

Drop by drop, spattering, dashing, and at last crashing, comes the storm,

the gathering gloom rent with the lightning, the "fire that ran along

upon the ground," and the music fairly quivering and crackling with the

wrath of the elements. But the storm passes, the gloom deepens, and we

are lost in that vague, uncertain combination of tones where voices and

instruments seem to be groping about, comprised in the marvellously

expressive chorus, "He sent a Thick Darkness over all the Land." From the

oppression of this choral gloom we emerge, only to encounter a chorus of

savage, unrelenting retribution ("He smote all the First-born of Egypt").

Chorley admirably describes the motive of this great fugue:--

"It is fiercely Jewish. There is a touch of Judith, of Jael, of Deborah

in it,--no quarter, no delay, no mercy for the enemies of the Most

High; 'He smote.' And when for variety's sake the scimitar-phrase is

transferred from orchestra to voices, it is admirable to see how the

same character of the falchion--of hip-and-thigh warfare, of victory

predominant--is sustained in the music till the last bar. If we have

from Handel a scorn-chorus in the 'Messiah,' and here a disgust-chorus,

referred to a little while since,[3] this is the execution, or revenge

chorus,--the chorus of the unflinching, inflexible, commissioned Angels

of the Sword."

After their savage mission is accomplished, we come to a chorus in

pastoral style ("But as for His People, He led them forth like Sheep"),

slow, tender, serene, and lovely in its movement, and grateful to the ear

both in its quiet opening and animated, happy close, after the terrors

which have preceded it. The following chorus ("Egypt was glad"), usually

omitted in performance, is a fugue, both strange and intricate, which it

is claimed Handel appropriated from an Italian canzonet by Kerl. The next

two numbers are really one. The two choruses intone the words, "He

rebuked the Red Sea," in a majestic manner, accompanied by a few massive

chords, and then pass to the glorious march of the Israelites, "He led

them through the Deep,"--a very elaborate and complicated number, but

strong, forcible, and harmonious throughout, and held together by the

stately opening theme with which the basses ascend. It is succeeded by

another graphic chorus ("But the Waters overwhelmed their Enemies"), in

which the roll and dash of the billows closing over Pharaoh's hosts are

closely imitated by the instruments, and through which in the close is

heard the victorious shout of the Israelites, "There was not one of them

left." Two more short choruses,--the first, "And Israel saw that Great

Work," which by many critics is not believed to be a pure Handel number,

and its continuation, "And believed the Lord," written in church style,

close this extraordinary chain of choral pictures.

The second part, "The Song of Moses,"--which, it will be remembered, was

written first,--opens with a brief but forcible orchestral prelude,

leading directly to the declaration by the chorus, "Moses and the

Children of Israel sang this Song," which, taken together with the

instrumental prelude, serves as a stately introduction to the stupendous

fugued chorus which follows ("I will sing unto the Lord, for He hath

triumphed gloriously; the Horse and his Rider hath He thrown into the

Sea"). It is followed by a duet for two sopranos ("The Lord is my

Strength and my Song") in the minor key,--an intricate but melodious

number, usually omitted. Once more the chorus resumes with a brief

announcement, "He is my God," followed by a fugued movement in the old

church style ("And I will exalt Him"). Next follows the great duet for

two basses, "The Lord is a Man of War,"--a piece of superb declamatory

effect, full of vigor and stately assertion. The triumphant announcement

in its closing measures, "His chosen Captains also are drowned in the Red

Sea," is answered by a brief chorus, "The Depths have covered them,"

which is followed by four choruses of triumph,--"Thy Right Hand, O Lord,"

an elaborate and brilliant number; "And in the Greatness of Thine

Excellency," a brief but powerful bit; "Thou sendest forth Thy Wrath;"

and the single chorus, "And with the Blast of Thy Nostrils," in the last

two of which Handel again returns to the imitative style with wonderful

effect, especially in the declaration of the basses, "The Floods stood

upright as an Heap, and the Depths were congealed." The only tenor aria

in the oratorio follows these choruses, a bravura song, "The Enemy said,

I will pursue," and this is followed by the only soprano aria, "Thou

didst blow with the Wind." Two short double choruses ("Who is like unto

Thee, O Lord," and "The Earth swallowed them") lead to the duet for

contralto and tenor, "Thou in Thy Mercy," which is in the minor, and very

pathetic in character. It is followed by the massive and extremely

difficult chorus, "The People shall hear and be afraid." Once more, after

this majestic display, comes the solo voice, this time the contralto, in

a simple, lovely song, "Thou shalt bring them in." A short double chorus

("The Lord shall reign for ever and ever"), a few bars of recitative

referring to the escape of Israel, the choral outburst once more

repeated, and then the solo voice declaring, "Miriam the prophetess took

a timbrel in her hand, and all the women went out after her with timbrels

and with dances; and Miriam answered them," lead to the final song of

triumph,--that grand, jubilant, overpowering expression of victory which,

beginning with the exultant strain of Miriam, "Sing ye to the Lord, for

He hath triumphed gloriously," is amplified by voice upon voice in the

great eight-part choir, and by instrument upon instrument, until it

becomes a tempest of harmony, interwoven with the triumph of Miriam's cry

and the exultation of the great host over the enemy's discomfiture, and

closing with the combined power of voices and instruments in harmonious

accord as they once more repeat Miriam's words, "The Horse and his Rider

hath He thrown into the Sea."

[3] The second chorus, "The Plague of the Water turned to Blood," and the

loathing of the Egyptians.

Saul.

The oratorio of "Saul" was written by Handel in 1738. He began it, says

Schoelcher, on the 3d of July, and finished it on the 27th of September;

thus occupying eighty-six days. This, however, is evidently an error, as

Rockstro says: "The score, written in a thick quarto volume, on paper

quite different from that used for the operas, is dated at the beginning

of the first chorus, July 23, 1738." The next date is August 28, at the

end of the second part, and the last, at the end of the work, September

27,--which would give two months and four days as the time in which it

was written. But even this period, short as it is, seems brief when

compared with that devoted to the composition of "Israel in Egypt," which

Handel began four days after "Saul" was completed, and finished in

twenty-seven days.

It has already been said, in the analysis of the last named-work, that in

January, 1739, Handel took the King's Theatre in the Haymarket, his

purpose being to give oratorios twice a week. "Saul" was the first of the

series; and in this connection the following advertisement, which

Schoelcher reprints from the London "Daily Post" of Jan. 3, 1739, will be

of interest:--

"We hear that on Tuesday se'en night the King's Theatre will be opened

with a new oratorio composed by Mr. Handel, called 'Saul.' The pit and

boxes will be put together, the tickets delivered on Monday the 15th

and Tuesday 16th (the day of performance), at half a guinea each.

Gallery 5_s._ The gallery will be opened at 4; the pit and boxes at 5.

To begin at 6."

The first performance took place as announced, and the second on the 23d,

"with several new concertos on the organ,"--which instrument also plays a

conspicuous part in the oratorio itself, not only in amplifying the

accompaniment, but also in solo work. In 1740 it was performed by the

Academy of Ancient Music in London, and in 1742 in Dublin. Selections

were also given from it in the great Handel Commemoration at Westminster

Abbey in 1784, and in 1840 it was revived by the Sacred Harmonic Society

of London, since which time it has occupied an important place in the

oratorio repertory.

The story closely follows the Biblical narrative of the relations between

David and Saul. The words have been attributed both to Jennens and

Marell; but the balance of evidence favors the former,--a poet who lived

at Gopsall. The overture, marked "Symfonie" in the original manuscript,

is the longest of all the Handel introductions. It is in four movements,

the first an allegro, the second a largo (in which the organ is used as a

solo instrument), the third an allegro, and the fourth a minuetto. It is

an exceedingly graceful and delicate prelude, and makes a fitting

introduction to the dramatic story which follows. The characters

introduced are Saul, king of Israel; Jonathan, his son; Abner, captain of

the host; David; the apparition of Samuel; Doeg, a messenger; an

Amalekite; Abiathar, Merab, and Michal, daughters of Saul; the Witch of

Endor; and the Israelites. The very dramatic character of the narrative

admirably adapts it to its division into acts and scenes.

The first act is triumphant in its tone and expressive of the exultation

of the Israelites at their victory over the Philistines. The second gives

a story of the passions,--Saul's jealousy of David, the love of Michal,

and the ardent friendship between David and Jonathan. The last act is

sombre in its character, opening with the weird incantations of the

Witch, and closing with David's grief over Saul and Jonathan.

The first scene opens in the Israelitish camp by the valley of Elah,

where the people join in an Epinicion, or Song of Triumph, over Goliah

and the Philistines. It is made up of a chorus ("How excellent Thy Name,

O Lord"), which is a stirring tribute of praise; an aria ("An Infant

raised by Thy Command"), describing the meeting of David and Goliah; a

trio, in which the Giant is pictured as the "monster atheist," striding

along to the vigorous and expressive music; and three closing choruses

("The Youth inspired by Thee," "How excellent Thy Name," and a jubilant

"Hallelujah"), ending in plain but massive harmony.

The second scene is in Saul's tent. Two bars of recitative prelude an

aria by Michal, Saul's daughter, who reveals her love for David ("O

godlike Youth!"). Abner presents David to Saul, and a dialogue ensues

between them, in which the conqueror announces his origin and Saul pleads

with him to remain, offering the hand of his daughter Merab as an

inducement. David (whose part is sung by a contralto) replies in a

beautiful aria, in which he attributes his success to the help of the

Lord alone. In the next four numbers the friendship of Jonathan and David

is cemented, which is followed by a three-verse hymn ("While yet thy Tide

of Blood runs high"), of a very stately character, sung by the High

Priest. In a few bars of recitative Saul betroths his daughter Merab to

David; but the girl replies in a very powerful aria ("My Soul rejects the

Thought with Scorn"), in which she declares her intention of frustrating

the scheme to unite a plebeian with the royal line. It is followed by a

plaintive but vigorous aria ("See with what a scornful Air"), sung by

Michal, who again gives expression to her love for David.

The next scene is entitled "Before an Israelitish City," and is prefaced

with a short symphony of a jubilant character. A brief recitative

introduces the maidens of the land singing and dancing in praise of the

victor, leading up to one of Handel's finest choruses, "Welcome, welcome,

Mighty King,"--a fresh, vigorous semi-chorus accompanied by the

carillons, in which Saul's jealousy is aroused by the superiority of

prowess attributed to David. It is followed by a furious aria, "With Rage

I shall burst, his Praises to hear." Jonathan laments the imprudence of

the women in making comparisons, and Michal suggests to David that it is

an old malady which may be assuaged by music, and in the aria, "Fell Rage

and black Despair passest," expresses her belief that the monarch can be

cured by David's "persuasive lyre."

The next scene is in the King's house. David sings an aria ("O Lord,

whose Mercies numberless"), followed by a harp solo; but it is in vain.

Jonathan is in despair, and Saul, in an aria ("A Serpent in my Bosom

warmed"), gives vent to his fury and hurls his javelin at David. The

latter escapes; and in furious recitative Saul charges his son to destroy

him. The next number is an aria for Merab ("Capricious Man, in Humor

lost"), lamenting Saul's temper; and Jonathan follows with a very

dramatic recitative and aria, in which he refuses to obey his father's

behest. The High Priest appeals to Heaven ("O Lord, whose Providence") to

protect David, and the first part closes with a powerful chorus,

"Preserve him for the Glory of Thy Name."

The second act is laid in the palace, and opens with a powerfully

descriptive chorus ("Envy, Eldest-born of Hell!"). In a noble song ("But

sooner Jordan's Stream, I swear") Jonathan assures David he will never

injure him. In a colloquy between them, David is informed that Saul has

bestowed the hand of the haughty Merab on Adriel, and Jonathan pleads the

cause of the lovely Michal. Saul approaches, and David retires. Saul

inquires of Jonathan whether he has obeyed his commands, and in a simple,

sweet, and flowing melody ("Sin not, O King, against the Youth") he seems

to overcome the wrath of the monarch, who dissembles and welcomes David,

bidding him to repel the insults of the Philistines, and offering him his

daughter Michal as a proof of his sincerity.

In the second scene Michal declares her love for David, and they join in

a rapturous duet ("O fairest of ten thousand fair"), which is followed by

a chorus in simple harmony ("Is there a Man who all his Ways"). A long

symphony follows, preparing the way for the attempt on David's life.

After an agitated duet with Michal ("At Persecution I can laugh"), David

makes his escape just as Doeg, the messenger, enters with instructions to

bring David to the King's chamber. He is shown the image in David's bed,

which he says will only enrage the King still more. Michal sings an

exultant aria, "No, let the Guilty tremble," and even Merab, won over by

David's qualities, pleads for him in a beautiful aria, "Author of peace."

Another symphony intervenes, preluding the celebration of the feast of

the new moon in the palace, to which David has been invited. Jonathan

again interposes with an effort to save David's life, whereupon Saul, in

a fresh outburst of indignation, hurls his javelin at his son, and the

chorus bursts out in horror, "Oh, fatal Consequence of Rage."

The third act opens with the intensely dramatic scene with the Witch of

Endor, the interview being preluded by the powerful recitative, "Wretch

that I am!" The second scene is laid in the Witch's abode, where the

incantation is practised that brings up the Apparition of Samuel. The

whole scene is very dramatic, and the instrumentation powerful, although

the effect, vigorous as it is, is made simply by oboes, bassoons, and

strings, instead of by the brass instruments which other composers employ

so vigorously in similar scenes. This scene closes with an elegy

foreboding the coming tragedy.

The third scene opens with the interview between David and the Amalekite

who brings the tidings of the death of Saul and Jonathan. It is followed

by that magnificent dirge, the "Dead March," whose simple yet solemn and

majestic strains are familiar to every one. The trumpets and trombones

with their sonorous pomp and the wailing oboes and clarinets make an

instrumental pageant which is the very apotheosis of grief. The effect of

the march is all the more remarkable when it is considered that, in

contradistinction to all other dirges, it is written in the major key.

The chorus, "Mourn, Israel, mourn thy Beauty lost," and the three arias

of lament sung by David, which follow, are all characterized by feelings

of the deepest gloom. A short chorus ("Eagles were not so swift as they")

follows, and then David gives voice to his lament over Jonathan in an

aria of exquisite tenderness ("In sweetest Harmony they lived"), at the

close of which he joins with the chorus in an obligato of sorrowful

grandeur ("O fatal Day, how low the Mighty lie!"). In an exultant strain

Abner bids the "Men of Judah weep no more," and the animated martial

chorus, "Gird on thy Sword, thou Man of Might," closes this great

dramatic oratorio.

Samson.

The oratorio of "Samson" was written in 1741, and begun immediately after

the completion of "The Messiah," which was finished September 14 of that

year. The last chorus was dated October 29; but in the following year

Handel added to it "Let the bright Seraphim" and the chorus, "Let their

celestial Concerts." The text was compiled by Newburgh Hamilton from

Milton's "Samson Agonistes," "Hymn on the Nativity," and "Lines on a

Solemn Musick." The oratorio was first sung at Covent Garden, Feb. 18,

1743, the principal parts being assigned as follows: Samson, Mr.

Beard;[4] Manoah, Mr. Savage; Micah, Mrs. Cibber; Delilah, Mrs. Clive.

The aria, "Let the bright Seraphim," was sung by Signora Avolio, for whom

it was written, and the trumpet obligato was played by Valentine Snow, a

virtuoso of that period. The performance of "Samson" was thus announced

in the London "Daily Advertiser" of Feb. 17, 1743:--

"By subscription. At the Theatre Royal in Covent Garden, to-morrow, the

18th inst., will be performed a new oratorio, called _Sampson_. Tickets

will be delivered to subscribers (on paying their subscription money)

at Mr. Handel's house in Brooke Street, Hanover Square. Attendance will

be given from nine o'clock in the morning till three in the afternoon.

Pit and boxes to be put together, and no person to be admitted without

tickets, which will be delivered that day at the office in Covent

Garden Theatre at half a guinea each; first gallery 5_s._; upper

gallery, 3_s._ 6_d._"

The representation was greeted with extraordinary enthusiasm, and

"Samson" soon became so popular that many had to be turned away;

notwithstanding which, the ill-natured Horace Walpole could write, in a

letter dated Feb. 24, 1743:--

"Handel has set up an oratorio against the opera, and succeeds. He has

hired all the goddesses from the farces, and the singers of roast beef

from between the acts at both theatres, with a man with one note in his

voice, and a girl without ever an one; and so they sing and make brave

hallelujahs, and the good company encore the recitative if it happens

to have any cadence like what they call a tune."

The text, as we have said, was adapted from Milton by Hamilton, who says

in his preface to the handbook, or libretto:--

"That poem indeed was never divided by Milton into acts or scenes, nor

designed for the stage, but given only as the plan of a tragedy with

choruses, after the manner of the ancients. But as Mr. Handel had so

happily introduced here oratorios, a musical drama, whose subject must

be scriptural, and in which the solemnity of church music is agreeably

united with the most pleasing airs of the stage, it would have been an

irretrievable loss to have neglected the opportunity of that great

master's doing justice to this work; he having already added new life

and spirit to some of the finest things in the English language,

particularly that inimitable ode[5] of Dryden's which no age nor nation

ever excelled."

The characters introduced are Samson; Micah, his friend; Manoah, his

father; Delilah, his wife; Harapha, a giant of Gath; Israelitish woman;

priests of Dagon; virgins attendant upon Delilah; Israelites, friends of

Samson; Israelitish virgins; and Philistines. After a brilliant overture,

closing, like that to "Saul," with a minuet movement, the scene opens

before the prison in Gaza, with Samson blind and in chains. His opening

recitative, setting forth his release from toil on account of the feast

to Dagon, introduces a brilliant and effective chorus by the priests with

trumpets ("Awake the Trumpet's lofty Sound"), after which a Philistine

woman in a bright, playful melody invites the men of Gaza to bring "The

merry Pipe and pleasing String;" whereupon the trumpet chorus is

repeated. After the tenor aria ("Loud is the Thunder's awful Voice"), the

chorus recurs again, showing Handel's evident partiality for it. The

Philistine Woman has another solo ("Then free from Sorrow"), whereupon in

a pathetic song ("Torments, alas!") Samson bewails his piteous condition.

His friend Micah appears, and in the aria, "O Mirror of our fickle

State," condoles with him. In answer to his question, "Which shall we

first bewail, thy Bondage, or lost Sight?" Samson replies in a short, but

exquisitely tender aria, "Total Eclipse: no Sun, no Moon, all dark amidst

the Blaze of Noon,"--a song which brought tears to the eyes of the blind

Handel himself when he listened to it long afterwards. The next chorus

("O first-created Beam") is of more than ordinary interest, as it treats

the same subject which Haydn afterwards used in "The Creation." It begins

in a soft and quiet manner, in ordinary time, develops into a strong

allegro on the words, "Let there be Light," and closes with a spirited

fugue on the words, "To Thy dark Servant Life by Light afford." A

dialogue follows between Manoah and Micah, leading up to an intricate

bravura aria for bass ("Thy glorious Deeds inspired my Tongue"), closing

with an exquisite slow movement in broad contrast to its first part.

Though comforted by his friends, Samson breaks out in furious

denunciation of his enemies in the powerfully dramatic aria, "Why does

the God of Israel sleep?" It is followed up in the same spirit by the

chorus, "Then shall they know,"--a fugue on two vigorous subjects, the

first given out by the altos, and the second by the tenors. Samson's

wrath subsides in the recitative, "My genial Spirits droop," and the

first act closes with the beautifully constructed chorus, "Then round

about the starry Throne," in which his friends console him with the joys

he will find in another life.

The second act, after a brief recitative, opens with an aria by Manoah

("Just are the Ways of God to Man"), in which he conjures Samson to

repose his trust in God. It is followed by the beautiful prayer of Micah

("Return, return, O God of Hosts"), emphasized by the chorus to which it

leads ("To Dust his Glory they would tread"), with which the prayer is

interwoven in obligato form. From this point, as Delilah appears, the

music is full of bright color, and loses it sombre tone. In a short

recitative, she excuses her misdeed, and then breaks out in an aria of

sensuous sweetness, "With plaintive Notes and am'rous Moan, thus coos the

Turtle left alone." Its bewitching grace, however, makes little

impression upon Samson, who replies with the aria, "Your Charms to Ruin

led the Way." In another enticing melody, "My Faith and Truth, O Samson,

prove," she seeks to induce his return to her house, and a chorus of

Virgins add their entreaties. A last effort is made in the tasteful and

elegant aria, "To fleeting Pleasures make your Court;" but when that also

fails, Delilah reveals her true self. Samson rebukes her "warbling

charms," her "trains and wiles," and counts "this prison-house the house

of liberty to thine;" whereupon a highly characteristic duet ensues

("Traitor to Love"). An aria for Micah follows ("It is nor Virtue, Valor,

Wit"), leading up to a powerful dissertation on masculine supremacy in a

fugued chorus which is treated in a spirited manner, and in which we may

well fancy that the woman-hating composer gave free rein to his spite:--

"To man God's universal law

Gave power to keep his wife in awe.

Thus shall his life be ne'er dismayed,

By female usurpation swayed."

The giant Harapha now appears, and mocks Samson with the taunt that had

he met him before he was blind, he would have left him dead on the field

of death, "where thou wrought'st wonders with an ass' jaw." His first

number ("Honor and Arms scorn such a Foe") is one of the most spirited

and dashing bass solos ever written. Samson replies with the majestic

aria, "My Strength is from the living God." The two solos reach their

climax in the energetic duet between the giants, "Go, baffled Coward,

go." Micah then suggests to Harapha that he shall call upon Dagon to

dissolve "those magic spells that gave our hero strength," as a test of

his power. The recitative is followed by an impressive six-part chorus

("Hear, Jacob's God") in the true church style. Its smooth, quiet flow of

harmony is refreshing as compared with the tumult of the giants' music

which precedes, and the sensuousness of the chorus ("To Song and Dance we

give the Day") which follows it. The act closes with the massive double

chorus ("Fixed in His everlasting Seat") in which the Israelites and

Philistines celebrate the attributes of their respective deities and

invoke their protection, and in which also the composer brings out with

overwhelming effect the majesty and grandeur of God as compared with the

nothingness of Dagon.

The third act opens with a dialogue in which Harapha brings the message

to Samson that he must repair to the feast of Dagon to delight the

Philistines with some of his feats of strength. Upon Samson's refusal,

Harapha sings the threatening aria, "Presuming Slave!" The Israelites

invoke the protection of God in the spirited chorus, "With Thunder

armed," closing with a prayer which changes to wild and supplicating

entreaty. Samson at last yields in a tender, pathetic aria ("Thus when

the Sun"), which seems to anticipate his fate. In a song of solemn

parting ("The Holy One of Israel be thy Guide"), accompanied by the

chorus ("To Fame immortal go"), his friends bid him farewell. The

festivities begin, and in an exultant chorus ("Great Dagon has subdued

our Foe") the Philistines are heard exulting over Samson's discomfiture.

Micah and Manoah, hearing the sounds, are filled with anxiety, and the

latter expresses his solicitude in the tender aria, "How willing my

paternal Love." But the scene suddenly changes. In a short, crashing

presto the coming destruction is anticipated. The trembling Israelites

express their alarm in the chorus, "Hear us, our God," and appeal to

Heaven for protection. A Messenger rushes upon the scene and announces

that Samson is dead and has involved the destruction of his enemies in

the general calamity. Micah gives expression to his grief in the touching

aria, "Ye Sons of Israel, now lament," followed by the Israelites in a

sorrowful wail, "Weep, Israel, weep." A funeral march, in the major key,

intervenes, full of tender expression of sorrow,--for which, after the

first two representations Handel substituted the Dead March from "Saul;"

and both marches are now printed in the scores for general use. As at

first written, the oratorio closed with the effective chorus and solo,

"Bring the Laurels;" but, as has been already said, a year afterwards

Handel made a different ending. Manoah calls upon the people to cease

their lamentation, and the funeral pageant is followed by the magnificent

trumpet aria, "Let the bright Seraphim,"--a song worthy only of the

greatest artists, both with voice and instrument,--and the equally

magnificent chorus, "Let their celestial Concerts," which closes the

great oratorio with triumphant exultation.

[4] "John Beard, a quondam chorister of the Chapel Royal, under Bernard

Gates, and afterwards the greatest English tenor singer of his day,

achieved one of his brightest triumphs in the part of Samson. His

history was romantic. In 1732 he married the Lady Henrietta, daughter

of James, Earl of Waldegrave, and widow of Lord Edward Herbert, second

son of the Marquis of Powis. In 1759 he took as his second wife

Charlotte, daughter of John Rich, the harlequin."--_Rockstro._

[5] Alexander's Feast; or, the Power of Music.

The Messiah.

The "Messiah" represents the ripened product of Handel's genius, and

reflects the noblest aspirations and most exalted devotion of mankind.

Among all his oratorios it retains its original freshness, vigor, and

beauty in the highest degree, in that it appeals to the loftiest

sentiment and to universal religious devotion, and is based upon the most

harmonious, symmetrical, and enduring forms of the art.

It was begun on the 22d day of August, 1741. The first part was concluded

August 28, the second, September 6, the third, September 12, and the

instrumentation, September 14. It is an illustration of Handel's almost

superhuman capacity for work, that at the age of fifty-six he should have

written his masterpiece in twenty-three days. The text was taken from the

literal words of Scripture, and the libretto arranged by Charles Jennens,

who, singularly enough, was not satisfied with the music which has

satisfied the world. In a letter written at that time, he says:--

"I shall show you a collection I gave Handel, called 'Messiah,' which I

value highly. He has made a fine entertainment of it, though not near

so good as he might and ought to have done. I have with great

difficulty made him correct some of the grossest faults in the

composition; but he retained his overture obstinately, in which there

are some passages far unworthy of Handel, but much more unworthy of the

'Messiah.'"

For two or three years prior to the appearance of the "Messiah," Handel

had been harassed by cabals set on foot by rival opera-managers in

London, who, by importing Italian singers, drew off the patronage of the

nobility, and ultimately succeeded in reducing him to the condition of an

insolvent debtor. While in this wretched plight an invitation came to him

from the Duke of Devonshire, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, to visit

Dublin. He eagerly accepted it, and in the correspondence which passed

between them promised to contribute a portion of whatever might accrue

from his music to charitable institutions, and also agreed to give an

oratorio "for the benefit and enlargement of poor distressed prisoners

for debt in the several marshalseas of the city of Dublin." He left

London early in November, arriving in that city, after many delays, on

the 18th. On the 23d of December he began a series of six musical

entertainments, which was completed February 10. His success was so great

that he was induced to begin a second series February 17, a fortnight

before the close of which appeared the following advertisement:--

"For the Relief of the Prisoners in the several Gaols, and for the

Support of Mercer's Hospital, in Stephen's Street, and of the

Charitable Infirmary on the Inn's Quay, on Monday, the 12th of April,

will be performed at the Musick Hall in Fishamble-street, _Mr.

Handel's_ new Grand _Oratorio, called the Messiah_, in which the

Gentlemen of the Choirs of both Cathedrals will assist, with some

Concertos on the Organ by Mr. Handel."

The first rehearsal took place on the 8th of April, in the presence of "a

most Grand, Polite, and Crowded Audience," as we are informed by

"Faulkner's Journal." The same paper, referring to the first public

performance, which took place on Tuesday, April 13, 1742, says:--

"At the desire of several persons of distinction, the above performance

is put off to Tuesday next. The doors will be opened at eleven, and the

performance begins at twelve. Many ladies and gentlemen who are

well-wishers to this noble and grand charity, for which this oratorio

was composed, request it as a favor that the ladies who honor this

performance with their presence would be pleased to come without hoops,

as it would greatly increase the charity by making room for more

company."

Gentlemen were also requested to come without their swords. "In this

way," it is said, "the stewards" were able to seat seven hundred persons

in the room instead of six hundred. The principal parts in the

performance were assigned to Signora Avolio, Mrs. Cibber, and Messrs.

Church and Ralph Roseingrane; and Mrs. Cibber's delivery of the aria "He

was despised" is said to have been so touching that Dr. Delany, the

companion of Swift, exclaimed, as she closed: "Woman, for this be all thy

sins forgiven."

The "Messiah" was performed thirty-four times during the composer's life,

but never upon a scale commensurate with its merits until the Handel

Commemoration at Westminster Abbey in 1784, when the largest choir and

band that had ever assembled before, with the renowned Madame Mara at the

head of the soloists, first gave the "Messiah" to the world in accordance

with the grand ideal of the composer. The orchestra was composed as

follows: First violins, 40; second violins, 47; tenors, 26; first oboes,

13; second oboes, 13; flutes, 6; violoncellos, 21; double-basses, 15;

bassoons, 26; double-bassoon, 1; trumpets, 12; trombones, 6; horns, 12;

kettledrums, 3; double-kettledrum, 1: total, 242. The choir was made up

as follows: Sopranos, 60, of whom 45 were choir-boys; counter-tenors

(altos), 40; tenors, 83; basses, 84: making the entire number of singers

267. Of the performance of the band upon this occasion, Burney quaintly

says:--

"Dante in his _Paradiso_ imagines nine circles, or choirs, of cherubs,

seraphs, patriarchs, prophets, martyrs, saints, angels, and archangels,

who with hand and voice are eternally praising and glorifying the

Supreme Being, whom he places in the centre, taking the idea from _Te

Deum laudamus_, where it is said: 'To Thee Cherubim and Seraphim

continually do cry,' etc. Now, as the orchestra in Westminster Abbey

seemed to ascend into the clouds and unite with the saints and martyrs

represented on the painted glass in the west window, which had all the

appearance of a continuation of the Orchestra, I could hardly refrain,

during the performance of the Allelujah, to imagine that this

Orchestra, so admirably constructed, filled, and employed, was a point

or segment of one of these celestial circles. And perhaps no band of

mortal musicians ever exhibited a more respectable appearance to the

eye, or afforded a more ecstatic and affecting sound to the ear, than

this."

He is equally enthusiastic over the chorus; and of Madame Mara's singing

of the aria, "I know that my Redeemer liveth," he says:--

"Her power over the sensibility of the audience seemed equal to that of

Mrs. Siddons. There was no eye within my view which did not 'silently a

gentle tear let fall,' nor, though long hackneyed in music, did I find

myself made of stronger earth than others."

The oratorio is divided into three parts. The first illustrates the

longing of the world for the Messiah, prophesies his coming, and

announces his birth; the second part is devoted to the sufferings, death,

and exaltation of Christ, and develops the spread and ultimate triumph of

the Gospel; while the third is occupied with the declaration of the

highest truths of doctrine,--faith in the existence of God, the surety of

immortal life, the resurrection, and the attainment of an eternity of

happiness.

The first part opens with an overture, or rather orchestral prelude, of

majestic chords, leading to a short fugue, developed with severe

simplicity and preparing the way for the accompanied recitative, "Comfort

ye My People," and the aria for tenor, "Every Valley shall be exalted,"

which in turn leads to the full, strong chorus, "And the Glory of the

Lord shall be revealed,"--the three numbers in reality forming one. The

prophecy is announced, only to be followed by the human apprehension in

the great aria for bass ("But who may abide the Day of His coming"),

written in the Sicilian pastoral style,--a form of which, Burney affirms,

Handel was very fond. The aria leads to the exquisitely constructed

number, "And He shall purify," a fugued chorus closing in simple harmony.

Once more the prophet announces, "Behold, a Virgin shall conceive,"

followed by the alto solo, "O Thou that tellest," which preludes a chorus

in the same tempo. The next aria ("The People that walked in Darkness"),

with its curious but characteristic modulations, leads to one of the most

graphic fugued choruses in the whole work ("For unto us a Child is

born"), elegantly interwoven with the violin parts, and emphasized with

sublime announcements of the names of the Messiah in full harmony and

with the strongest choral power. The grand burst of sound dies away,

there is a significant pause, and then follows a short but exquisite

Pastoral Symphony for the strings, which with the four succeeding bits of

recitative tells the message of the Angels to the Shepherds on the plains

of Bethlehem. Suddenly follows the chorus of the heavenly hosts ("Glory

to God"), which is remarkably expressive, and affords sharp contrasts in

the successive clear responses to the fugue. The difficult but very

brilliant aria for soprano, "Rejoice greatly," the lovely aria, "He shall

feed His Flock," originally written entire for soprano, in which Handel

returns again to the pastoral style, and a short chorus ("His Yoke is

easy"), close the first part.

The second part is the most impressive portion of the work. It begins

with a majestic and solemn chorus ("Behold the Lamb of God"), which is

followed by the aria for alto, "He was despised,"--one of the most

pathetic and deeply expressive songs ever written, in which the very

key-note of sorrow is struck. Two choruses--"Surely He hath borne our

Griefs," rather intricate in harmony, and "With His Stripes we are

healed," a fugued chorus written _a capella_ upon an admirable

subject--lead to the spirited and thoroughly interesting chorus, "All we

like Sheep have gone astray," closing with an adagio of great beauty

("And the Lord hath laid on Him the Iniquity of us all"). This is

followed by several short numbers,--a choral fugue ("He trusted in God"),

the accompanied recitative ("Thy Rebuke hath broken His Heart"), a short

but very pathetic aria for tenor ("Behold and see if there be any

Sorrow"), and an aria for soprano ("But Thou didst not leave His Soul in

Hell"),--all of which are remarkable instances of the musical expression

of sorrow and pity. These numbers lead to a triumphal shout in the chorus

and semi-choruses, "Lift up your Heads, O ye Gates," which reach a climax

of magnificent power and strongly contrasted effects. After the chorus,

"Let all the Angels of God worship Him," a fugue constructed upon two

subjects, the aria, "Thou art gone up on high," and the chorus, "The Lord

gave the Word," we reach another pastoral aria of great beauty, "How

beautiful are the Feet." This is followed by a powerfully descriptive

chorus ("Their Sound is gone out into all Lands"), a massive aria for

bass ("Why do the Nations"), the chorus, "Let us break their Bonds

asunder," and the aria, "Thou shalt break them," leading directly to the

great Hallelujah Chorus, which is the triumph of the work and its real

climax. It opens with exultant shouts of "Hallelujah." Then ensue three

simple phrases, the middle one in plain counterpoint, which form the

groundwork for the "Hallelujah." These phrases, seemingly growing out of

each other, and reiterated with constantly increasing power, interweaving

with and sustaining the "Hallelujah" with wonderful harmonic effects,

make up a chorus that has never been excelled, not only in musical

skill, but also in grandeur and sublimity. After listening to its

performance, one can understand Handel's words: "I did think I did see

all heaven before me, and the great God himself." This number closes the

second part. It is worthy of note in this connection that when the

oratorio was first performed at Covent Garden, London, in 1743, the whole

audience, with the King at its head, arose during the singing of the

"Hallelujah" and remained standing until it was finished,--a custom which

is still observed, not only in England, but also in this country.

If the oratorio had closed at this point it would not have disturbed the

unities; but Handel carried it into a third part with undiminished

interest, opening it with that sublime confession of faith, "I know that

my Redeemer liveth,"--an aria which will never be lost. It is followed by

two quartets in plain counterpoint with choral responses, "Since by Man

came Death," and "For as in Adam all die," in which the effects of

contrast are very forcibly brought out. The last important aria in the

work ("The Trumpet shall sound"), for bass with trumpet obligato, will

always be admired for its beauty and stirring effect. The oratorio closes

with three choruses, all in the same key and of the same general

sentiment,--"Worthy is the Lamb," a piece of smooth, flowing harmony;

"Blessing and Honor," a fugue led off by the tenors and bassos in unison,

and repeated by the sopranos and altos on the octave, closing with full

harmony on the words "for ever and ever" several times reiterated; and

the final, "Amen" chorus, which is treated in the severest style, and in

which the composer evidently gave free rein to his genius, not being

hampered with the trammels of words.

Other oratorios may be compared one with another; the "Messiah" stands

alone, a majestic monument to the memory of the composer, an imperishable

record of the noblest sentiments of human nature and the highest

aspirations of man.

Judas Maccabaeus.

The oratorio of "Judas Maccabaeus" was written in thirty-two days, between

July 9 and Aug. 11, 1746, upon the commission of Frederic, Prince of

Wales, to celebrate the return of the Duke of Cumberland from Scotland

after the decisive victory of Culloden, April 16, 1746. The words were

written by the Rev. Thomas Morell, D.D., a learned Greek scholar of that

time, the plot being taken from the narrative of the exploits of the

Jewish deliverer contained in the first book of Maccabees and in the

twelfth book of Josephus' "Antiquities of the Jews." In his dedication,

Dr. Morell says:--

"To His Royal Highness Prince William, Duke of Cumberland, this faint

portraiture of a truly wise, valiant, and virtuous commander as the

possessor of the like noble qualities is, with the most profound

respect and veneration, inscribed by His Royal Highness' most obedient

and most devoted servant the author."

To what extremes of adulation even a doctor of divinity may go, is well

shown in Schoelcher's pithy comment: "This is addressed to a man who

pitilessly murdered as many prisoners after the battle as his courage had

slain enemies during the combat." It is but just to the composer,

however, to say that the great success of this oratorio had little to do

with the political causes which led to its composition. It was first

performed at Covent Garden, April 1, 1747, and was repeated six times

that year. Handel himself conducted it thirty-eight times with ever

growing popularity, to which the Jews contributed greatly, as it

glorified an episode in their national history.

The characters represented are Judas Maccabaeus; Simon, his brother; an

Israelitish Messenger; and Israelitish Men and Women. The story may be

gathered from the following summary of the plot as prepared for the

Birmingham Festival of 1861:--

Part I.--Lamentations for the death of Mattathias (the father of Judas

Maccabaeus and Simon), by whom the Jewish people had been roused to

resist the cruelties and oppressions of Antiochus Epiphanes, the Syrian

king, in his attempt to suppress their religion and liberties.--The

divine favor invoked.--Judas recognized as leader.--Appeal to the

patriotism of the people, and their response.--The value of

liberty.--Preparations for war.--Pious trust in God, and heroic resolve

to conquer or die.