Chapter IX: Part III: Feast of the dedication at Jerusalem, after Judas and his (2)

The second part opens with the "Seligkeiten" ("Hymn of Praise"), a grand declamatory solo for baritone, accompanied by a six-part chorus, which, like the next number, was written by Liszt in his younger days and utilized in its present setting. The hymn is accompanied by organ throughout, and is followed by the "Pater Noster," also with organ,--a fervent, almost passionate, offering of prayer by the precentors and congregation, closing with a mighty "Amen." In the next number--the founding of the Church ("Tu es Petrus"), beginning with male chorus--the orchestra resumes its work. The voices move on in stately manner until the words, "Simon, son of Jona, lovest thou me?" are reached, when the full chorus comes in with imposing effect. Of this number, Nohl says in his fine analysis of "Christus:"--

"The perishable, sinful world in all its aspects is here contrasted
with an undoubting faith in an everlastingly constant higher ideal, to
give it this name. That it is the spirit of the subject, not its mere
perishable husk, is shown by the nature of the melody, which rises to
the most powerful expression of the final victory of this spirit of
love. Now again the full orchestra joins the double chorus; for the
world, the whole world, is meant."

The next scene, entitled "The Wonder," is purely instrumental, and is a marvellous picture of the storm upon the lake, which Nohl also characterizes with reference to its inner meanings:--

"The ninth scene is a marvel. 'The storms rage in contention,'--not the
storms of the sea, but the storm of desires to which the weak of faith
are exposed. It is not the outward marvel or superstition that is to be
strengthened, but the faith of human nature in itself and its higher
power and destiny. Hence the actual inner tranquillity when, after the
raging orchestral tumult, 'a great stillness' succeeds Christ's words,
which is ingeniously introduced with the motive of the 'Seligkeit,'
because such inner purity alone bestows upon mankind effective power
over the savage forces of the world."

"The Entrance into Jerusalem," a graphic instrumental prelude, introduces a "Hosanna" for full chorus, followed by a "Benedictus" for mezzo-soprano with chorus,--a splendidly constructed number, which closes the second part in a style full of beauty and majesty.

The third part opens with the sorrowful scene, "Tristis est anima mea," Christ's sad words in the walk to Gethsemane,--an unutterably pathetic solo, with an accompaniment which is a marvel of expressive instrumentation. The next number is the old Middle-Age hymn, "Stabat Mater dolorosa," in which Liszt has combined voices and instruments in a manner, particularly in the "Inflammatus," almost overpowering. Solos, duets, quartets, choruses, orchestra, and organ are all handled with consummate skill. It has been aptly characterized as having the dimensions of the "Last Judgment" in the Sistine Chapel. After the great hymn is ended, another begins. It is the old Easter song, "O Filii et Filiae," written to be sung by boys with harmonium,--a joyous, sunny chorus, dispersing the gloom of the "Stabat Mater." The last scene, "The Resurrection," is a powerful and massive chorus, full of mighty accords, typical of the final triumph of Christianity, and closing with a majestic "Amen" built up on the opening motive of the original introduction. "It is," says Nohl, "a cycle of scenes such as only the victorious mastery of the subject by inward perception can give, and such as only the artist can draw who dominates all the conditions apart like a king, and has reconciled his soul with the absolute truth and power of the Eternal."

MACFARREN.

George Alexander Macfarren, one of the most prominent of modern English composers, was born in London, March 2, 1813. He began the study of music in 1827 under the tuition of Charles Lucas. Two year's later he entered the Royal Academy of Music, and in 1834 became one of its professors. The latter year dates the beginning of his career as a composer, his first work having been a symphony in F minor. During the next thirty years his important works were as follows: overture "Chevy Chase" (1836); "Devil's Opera," produced at the Lyceum (1838); "Emblematical Tribute on the Queen's Marriage" and an arrangement of Purcell's "Dido and AEneas" (1840); editions of "Belshazzar," "Judas Maccabaeus," and "Jephthah," for the Handel Society (1843); opera "Don Quixote" (1846); opera "Charles II." (1849); serenata "The Sleeper Awakened," and the cantata "Lenora" (1851); the cantata "May Day," for the Bradford Festival (1856); the cantata "Christmas" (1859); the opera "Robin Hood" (1860); the masque "Freya's Gift" and opera "Jessy Lea" (1863); and the operas "She Stoops to Conquer," "The Soldier's Legacy," and "Helvellyn" (1864). About the last year his sight, which had been impaired for many years, failed. His blindness did not however diminish his activity. He still served as professor in the Royal Academy, and dictated compositions,--indeed some of his best works were composed during this time of affliction. In 1873 appeared his oratorio, "St. John the Baptist," which met with an enthusiastic reception at the Bristol Festival of that year. In 1875 he was elected professor of music at Cambridge, to fill the vacancy occasioned by the death of Sterndale Bennett, and in the same year was also appointed principal of the Royal Academy of Music. In 1876 his oratorio "The Resurrection" was performed at the Birmingham Festival, and in 1877 the oratorio "Joseph" at Leeds, besides the cantata "The Lady of the Lake" at Glasgow. Grove catalogues his other compositions as follows: a cathedral service, anthems, chants, psalm-tunes, and introits for the Holy Days and Seasons of the English Church (1866); "Songs in a Cornfield" (1868); "Shakspeare Songs for Four Voices" (1860-64); songs from Lane's "Arabian Nights," and Kingsley's and Tennyson's poems; overtures to "The Merchant of Venice," "Romeo and Juliet," "Hamlet," and "Don Carlos;" symphonies, string quartets, and a quintet; a concerto for violin and orchestra; and sonatas for pianoforte alone, and in combination with other instruments. As lecturer, writer, and critic, Sir George Macfarren also holds a high place, among his important works being "Rudiments of Harmony" (1860), and six Lectures on Harmony (1867); also Analyses of Oratorios for the Sacred Harmonic Society (1853-57), and of orchestral works for the Philharmonic Society (1869-71), besides numerous articles in the musical dictionaries.

St. John the Baptist.

The oratorio "St. John the Baptist" was first produced at the Bristol Musical Festival in 1873. The libretto was written by Dr. E. G. Monk, and is divided into two parts,--the first styled "The Desert," and the second "Machaerus," to correspond with the localities where the action is supposed to take place. The incidents described are John's preaching to the people, the baptism of Christ, and the events which begin with Herod's feast and close with the execution of the Prophet. One of the best of the English critics, speaking of the libretto, says:--

"John is thus shown in his threefold capacity, as the herald of the
Kingdom of Heaven, as the uncompromising champion of righteousness, and
as the witness of truth even unto death. Nothing could be more simple
or more definite than this, and the discreetness it evinces is shown
also by the manner in which the characters are treated. John, of
course, is the central figure. He stands out clothed with all the noble
attributes accredited to him in the Bible,--'stern and inflexible in
his teaching, yet bowing before him whose message he had to
promulgate.' A halo of grandeur surrounds the ascetic of the desert as
he hurls anathemas upon the corruptors of Israel; or as, in the true
spirit of the ancient prophets of his race, he rebukes Herod under the
roof of that monarch's palace. No greater hero could a musician wish
for as a source of inspiration, or as a means of exciting interest.
Next to John stands the weak and voluptuous King,--a contrast as marked
in character as in outward circumstance. The impulsive temperament of
Herod is well brought out. One instant he resents John's boldness, and
significantly exclaims, 'If I command to kill, they kill;' the next he
trembles before his rebuker, and promises to amend his life. The
rashness of the fatal vow to Salome, and the bitter but unavailing
repentance to which it led, are also put well forward, while in matters
of detail extreme care is taken to make the contrast of Prophet and
King as great as circumstances permit. The part of Salome, who is the
only other dramatic person, contains no more amplification of the Bible
narrative than was exacted by the necessities of musical treatment. In
structure, the libretto is partly dramatic, partly narrational, the
dramatic form being employed in all the chief scenes; and as little use
is made of 'Greek chorus,' the story marches without the halting
rendered necessary by efforts to 'improve' its incidents as they
arise."

The overture, which is very dramatic in character, is followed by a powerful fugued chorus ("Behold! I will send My Messenger"), a part of which is set to organ accompaniment. The Narrator (contralto) recites the coming of the Prophet, in the orchestral prelude to which is a phrase borrowed from an old church melody which Mendelssohn also used in his Reformation Symphony, and which serves throughout the work as the motive for the Prophet, in the genuine Wagner style. Saint John is introduced in a rugged and massive baritone solo ("Repent ye, the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand"), accompanied by very descriptive instrumentation. A dramatic scene ensues, composed of inquiries as to the Prophet's mission by the People, a short chorus by the latter ("What shall we do then?") which is very melodic in style, and the resumption of the dialogue form, set to a very skilful accompaniment. This scene is followed by a characteristic aria for the Prophet, "I indeed baptize you with Water." The story is once more taken up by the Narrator, who describes the baptism of Christ. The words, "This is My Beloved Son," are given to a female choir, with exquisite accompaniment by the violins and harps. A song for the Narrator ("In the Beginning was the Word") follows, and leads to the chorus, which closes the first part, the words taken from the first verse of Psalm civ., and the melody borrowed from the familiar old tune "Hanover," which the composer has worked up with great skill and effect.

The second part opens in Herod's palace with the rebuke of the Monarch by the Prophet. In this scene, as well as in others, the composer draws a strong contrast in the music assigned to the two, the one being strong and stern, the other sensuous, in style. In the duet, where Herod confesses the error of his ways, the voices unite in a genuine religious strain. The Narrator is once more introduced, and describes the feast given by the Monarch to the Galilee estates, followed by a jubilant chorus of Nobles ("O King, live forever!"), set to a brilliant accompaniment, calling for the most ample orchestral resources. The next number is a chorus for male voices ("Lo! the Daughter of Herodias cometh in, she danceth!"), set to a dance rhythm with tambourines, the themes being bits of Oriental melodies skilfully treated. We then have the banquet-scene, the admiration of the Nobles for Salome's beauty, Herod's oath, and Salome's joy expressed in a showy song ("I rejoice in my youth"). Then follows the dramatic scene of Salome's request,--a concerted number of great force in its treatment. Herod sings a mournful aria ("Alas! my Daughter, thou hast brought us very low"). The Narrator explains how the King was compelled to keep his word, and is followed by the Nobles in a stirring chorus ("Lo! the Wrath of the King is as a Messenger of Death"). The scene now changes to the dungeon, where the Prophet sings his farewell song ("A Man can receive nothing"), accompanied by orchestra and organ. The final tragedy is told by the Narrator, and the work closes with two reflective numbers,--the beautiful unaccompanied quartet, "Blessed are they which are persecuted," and the chorus, "What went ye out into the Wilderness for to see?" The above-mentioned critic, who was present at its first performance, says of the work:--

"It is a strange thing that John the Baptist has not often attracted
the notice of musical composers in search of a subject. No more
remarkable personage, with one great exception, figures in Bible
history than he whom the Master described as 'more than a prophet.' His
striking appearance, stern asceticism, wrathful denunciation of
'wickedness in high places,' and tragic fate,--not to speak of his
relation to One whose shoes he professed himself unworthy to
loose,--throw his form into bold relief, and mark him as of heroic
proportions. Yet, save that he holds a subordinate place in a very
limited number of works, among which is Sir Julius Benedict's 'St.
Peter,' the great forerunner has been passed over till now. At length,
however, in that 'fulness of time' which ever brings forth the best
results, the Man and his Life have found a musical illustrator. There
is now an oratorio of 'John the Baptist,'--a work worthy its theme, and
to which the stamp of enthusiastic approval has been affixed by the
unanimous verdict of an audience competent to judge."

MACKENZIE.

Alexander C. Mackenzie, one of the very few successful Scotch composers, was born at Edinburgh in 1847. His father was a musician; and recognizing his son's talent, sent him to Germany at the age of ten. He began his studies with Ulrich Eduard Stein at Schwartzburg-Sonderhausen, and four years later entered the ducal orchestra as violinist. He remained there until 1862, when he went to England to study the violin with M. Sainton. In the same year he was elected king's scholar of the Royal Academy of Music. Three years later he returned to Edinburgh and established himself as a piano-teacher. The main work of his life, however, has been composition, and to this he has devoted himself with assiduity and remarkable success. Grove catalogues among his works: "Cervantes, an overture for orchestra;" a scherzo for ditto; overture to a comedy; a string quintet and many other pieces in MS.; pianoforte quartet in B, op. 11; Trois Morceaux pour Piano, op. 15; two songs, op. 12; besides songs, part-songs, anthems, and pieces for the piano. This catalogue, however, does not include his two most important works,--a Scotch Rhapsody, introduced into this country by the Theodore Thomas orchestra, a composition of great merit, and the oratorio, "The Rose of Sharon," which has been received with extraordinary favor wherever it has been performed.

The Rose of Sharon.

"The Rose of Sharon," a dramatic oratorio founded on the Song of Solomon, the words selected from the Scriptures and arranged by Joseph Bennett, was first brought out at the Norwich Festival, England, Oct. 16, 1884, under the direction of the composer, and was subsequently performed in London by the Sacred Harmonic Society. Its first performance in Scotland took place at Glasgow, Dec. 8, 1885, under the auspices of the Glasgow Choral Union, Madame Albani, Miss Hilda Wilson, Mr. Edward Lloyd, and Mr. Watkins Mills being the principal vocalists. One notice of this performance says: "The enthusiastic reception of the work on this occasion was beyond all description; the composer was recalled after each part with cheers that must have made his heart leap with delight." At the first performance at Norwich he was showered with flowers by the chorus, while the whole audience rose and greeted him with prolonged cheering. In speaking of the text, its compiler says:--

"In adopting for the purposes of this oratorio a reading of the 'Song
of Songs' upon which Ewald and Renan substantially agree, the compiler
of the libretto favored no controversial opinion. He simply saw in the
ingenious commentaries of the learned Hebraists suggestions for a story
of unconquerable love, capable of expression in the language of the
Bible.

"For the arrangement of incident the compiler is alone responsible. In
some respects it departs widely from the original poem,--which opens,
for example, in Jerusalem,--and gives only in narrative the events that
occupy part one of the oratorio.

"In taking a story from a canonical book of Holy Scripture, the
compiler could not ignore its spiritual significance. He has,
therefore, introduced a prologue suggesting the parabolic character of
the drama, and an epilogue which points its moral."

The characters are the Rose of Sharon, designated throughout the work as the Sulamite (soprano); a Woman (contralto); the Beloved (tenor); and Solomon (baritone); the chorus representing Officers of the Court, Princes, Nobles, Villagers, Elders, and Soldiers. The story, briefly told, is one of the power of love. The Beloved and Solomon are both in love with the Sulamite, and the king tears her from the former to be the favorite among the women of the harem. Amid all the splendors of the palace and the luxuries heaped upon her by her passionate admirer she remains true to the Beloved, is ultimately restored to him, and returns to the vineyards of Sulam. The work is divided as follows: Prologue; Part I. Separation; II. Temptation; III. Victory; IV. Reunion; V. Epilogue. The motto of the oratorio is "Love is strong as death, and unconquerable as the grave." This motto has its musical theme as well as each of the three principal characters, and they are invariably used with great skill and effect. The Woman acts the part of Narrator, and after a brief orchestral prelude she is heard declaring the meaning and spiritual significance of the story in the prologue:

"We will open our mouth in a parable;
We will utter dark sayings of old,
Which we have heard and known,
Which our fathers have told us;
We will not hide them from our children,
That the generation to come may know them,
Who shall declare them to their children.

This is a great mystery; but we speak concerning Christ and his
Church."

The oratorio opens in the vineyard of Sulam as the Vine-dressers come forth to their labor. The orchestral part begins with the melody of the Vineyard Song ("We will take the Foxes"), and serves to introduce their chorus, a joyous pastoral ("Come, let us go forth into the Field"). As they disappear, the voice of the Beloved is heard singing a tender and passionate appeal beneath the Sulamite's lattice ("Rise up, rise up, my Love") as he urges her to join him, "For lo! the winter is past; the rain is over and gone." Her reply follows from within her chamber, full of love and adoration, and closing with the Vineyard Song ("We will take the Foxes, the little Foxes that ravage the Vines"). She descends from her chamber and joins the Beloved, and their voices unite in a delightful duet ("Come, Beloved, into the Garden of Nuts"). Once more the chorus of the Vine-dressers is heard, and at its close, after an intermezzo descriptive of the joys of a spring morning, the scene changes to Lebanon. A short alto solo announces the coming of Solomon, and the pastoral music is followed by a brilliant and stately processional march, accompanied by chorus ("God save the King!"). Solomon beholds the Sulamite, and pours forth his admiration in a rapturous song ("Thou art lovely, O my Friend, as Thirza"). The Princes and Nobles also testify to their admiration of her beauty. A very dramatic scene ensues, in which the Beloved and the Sulamite seek to escape "out of the caves of the lion and from the haunt of the leopard." She is brought back by an elder, and again Solomon pleads his cause in a passionate declamation ("Unto my charger in Pharaoh's stud I would compare thee, O my friend"). She replies, "My Beloved is to me a nosegay of myrrh," and clings to her lover, who once more seeks to escape with her; whereupon she is seized and placed in one of the king's chariots, and the cavalcade moves off to the brilliant strains of the cortege music, accompanied by the chorus.

The second part, "Temptation," introduces us to Solomon's palace, where the Sulamite is alone, pining for her lover. The scene opens with the psalm, "The Lord is my Shepherd," set to a simple, charming melody, full of the spirit of devotion, but entirely disconnected with the general texture of the work. As the touching strain comes to an end, the Women of the court enter, insidiously plead the cause of Solomon, tempt her with his luxuries, and seek to shame her love for the Beloved. "Kings' daughters shall be among thine honorable women; thy clothing shall be of wrought gold; thou shalt be brought unto the king in raiment of needlework, with gladness and rejoicing shalt thou be brought and enter into the king's palace," sings one of the Women; but the Sulamite remains loyal, and only answers: "My Beloved pastures his flocks among the lilies. My Beloved is mine, and I am his." The temptation is interrupted by the procession of the ark passing in the street below to the glad acclaim of the people ("Make a joyful Noise unto the Lord, all ye Lands"), and a brilliant march. Successively the Maidens of Jerusalem with timbrels, the Elders, the Shepherds and Vine-dressers, the Soldiers, the Priests bearing the sacred vessels pass by, singing tributes of praise to the Lord; and as the Levites appear bearing the ark, and Solomon comes in sight with all his retinue, the entire chorus triumphantly repeat "God save the King!" The brilliant procession passes from view. The Women once more appeal to the Sulamite; but she still loyally declares: "My Beloved pastures his flocks among the lilies; lo! Solomon in all his glory is not arrayed like one of these."

The third part, "Victory," opens with an orchestral prelude picturing the sleep of the Sulamite, with her women watching about her. The voice of the Beloved is heard without the chamber, "Open to me, my Sister, my Bride." It reaches her in a dream, and in fancy she replies to him, clothes herself, and searches for him in the streets; but when she accosts the watchmen, they are so rude that her fright awakes her. She is still a prisoner in the palace, and the Women about her announce the coming of Solomon. He pleads his cause in a passionate song ("Ere the Day cool and the Shadows flee away"); and she replies with another protestation of her constancy in the solo, "Lo! a Vineyard hath Solomon at Baal-hamon." The situation, which is very dramatic in its treatment, is heightened by a duet and by the mocking chorus of Women; but above them all still sings the brave Sulamite, "My Beloved is mine, and I am his."

The fourth part brings us back again to the vineyards of Sulam. It opens with a melancholy chorus of the Vine-dressers ("O Lord, be gracious unto us"), lamenting her absence. It is followed by a bass solo ("Thus saith the Lord") and a chorale in full broad harmony. At last the victorious Sulamite is seen coming up from the valley leaning on the arm of the Beloved. All join in a powerful and exultant chorus of gratitude and joy ("Sing, O Heavens, and be joyful, O Earth"). A rapturous duet ensues between the Sulamite and the Beloved, and then all join in the spirited finale:--

"For the flame of Love is as fire,
Even the fire of God.
Many waters cannot quench it,
Neither can floods drown it.
Yea, Love is strong as death,
And unconquerable as the grave."

MENDELSSOHN.

Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, the son of a Berlin banker, was born at Hamburg, Feb. 3, 1809, and, unlike almost all other composers, was reared in the lap of luxury. Every advantage which wealth could procure he enjoyed, with the result that he became highly educated in the other arts as well as in music. His teachers in music were Zelter and Ludwig Berger, and he made such progress that in his ninth year he appeared in public as a pianist in Berlin, and afterwards in Paris. The first of his compositions to attract general notice were the overture to Shakspeare's "Midsummer Night's Dream" and the little opera "The Marriage of Camacho," which were brought out in Berlin in 1827. After several concert tours, in which he met with great success, he resided for some time in Duesseldorf. In 1835 he went to Leipsic as director of the famous Gewandhaus concerts,--which are still given in that city. Two years later he married Cecile Jeanrenaud, the beautiful daughter of a minister of the Reformed Church in Frankfort, and shortly afterwards went to Berlin as general director of church music. In 1843 he returned to his former post in Leipsic, and also took a position in the newly established Conservatory, where he spent the remainder of his days in company with his family, to whom he was closely attached. He has left a large and rich collection of musical works, which are favorites the world over. His three great oratorios are the "Hymn of Praise," catalogued as a symphony-cantata, "St. Paul," and "Elijah." The last is specially interesting, as it marked a new departure from the conventional forms of oratorio, and gave the widest scope to the dramatic elements,--to such a degree, in fact, that it might with propriety be styled a sacred opera. Besides these oratorios, his exquisite music to the "Midsummer Night's Dream," which is familiar the world over, and his stately dramatic music to "Antigone," he has left five symphonies, of which the "Scotch," the "Italian," and the "Reformation" are best known; four exquisite overtures, "Ruy Blas," "Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage," "Hebrides," and "Melusina;" the very dramatic cantata, "The Walpurgis Night;" a long list of beautiful songs for one or more voices; the incidental music to Racine's "Athalia;" a very large collection of sacred music, such as psalms, hymns, anthems, and cantatas; several beautiful trios and other specimens of chamber-music; and the lovely "Songs without Words," which are to be found upon almost every piano, the beauty and freshness of which time has not impaired. Mendelssohn never wrote a grand opera, owing to his fastidiousness as to a libretto; though he finally obtained one from Geibel, on the subject of the "Loreley," which suited him. He had begun to write it, and had finished the finale to the first act, when death interrupted his work, Nov. 4, 1847. Mendelssohn was a man of remarkable beauty, and his character corresponded to his charm of person. He had a liberal education, was a man of broad culture, a clever artist, and a very skilful writer, as is shown by his volumes of letters from Italy and Switzerland. Possessed of these graces of mind and person, and having all the advantages that wealth could bestow, he lacked those incentives which in other composers have brought out the deepest, highest, and most majestic forms of musical expression. His music is a reflex of his life; grace, elegance, culture, and finish are its characteristics.

St. Paul.

"St. Paul," the first of Mendelssohn's oratorios, was begun in Duesseldorf and finished in Leipsic in the winter of 1835, the composer being then in his twenty-sixth year. He first applied to Marx to write the text; but the invitation was declined, on the ground that the chorales were unsuited to the period of the narrative. Mendelssohn then consulted with his friends Fuerst and Schubring, and the libretto as it now stands represents their joint compilation. Its three principal themes are the martyrdom of Saint Stephen, the conversion of Saint Paul, and the apostle's subsequent career. One of the clearest statements of the general character of the work is that given by Lampadius; he says:--

"The main thought which runs through the whole work is too high and
broad to be linked by the tie of a personal interest to any single man.
It is the glorification of Christianity, with its humility, its joy in
living and dying for the Lord, in contrast with the blind
self-righteousness of Judaism and the mere sensuous morality of the
heathen schools. It is the contrast, or rather the struggle, of the
last two with the former, and the victory of the light and love of the
Gospel,--the light eternal, the love divine. This thought is made
incarnate in the persons of Stephen, Paul, and Barnabas, and it is
concentrated at that point which is really the central point of
interest to the oratorio,--the conversion of Saint Paul."

The work was written upon a commission given by the Cecilien Verein of Frankfort in 1831; but it was not produced until May 22, 1836, on the occasion of the Lower Rhine Festival at Duesseldorf. The principal parts were sung by Madame Fischer-Achten, Mademoiselle Grabau, Herren Schmetzer and Wersing, the latter artist taking the part of Paul. The second performance was given at Liverpool, Oct. 3, 1836; and between the two performances Mendelssohn revised the work and cut out fourteen numbers.

After a long and expressive overture for orchestra and organ, the first part opens with a strong and exultant chorus ("Lord! Thou alone art God"). It is massively constructed, and in its middle part runs into a restless, agitated theme ("The Heathen furiously rage"). It closes, however, in the same energetic and jubilant manner which characterizes its opening, and leads directly to a chorale ("To God on High"), set to a famous old German hymn-book tune, "Allein Gott in der Hoeh' sei Ehr," which is serenely beautiful in its clearly flowing harmony. The martyrdom of Stephen follows. The basses in vigorous recitative accuse him of blasphemy, and the people break out in an angry chorus ("Now this Man ceaseth not to utter blasphemous Words"). At its close Stephen sings a brief but beautiful solo ("Men, Brethren, and Fathers!"); and as the calm protest dies away, again the full chorus gives vent to a tumultuous shout of indignation ("Take him away"). A note of warning is heard in the fervent soprano solo, "Jerusalem, thou that killest the Prophets;" but it is of no avail. Again the chorus hurls its imprecations more furiously than before ("Stone him to death"). The tragedy occurs. A few bars of recitative for tenor, full of pathos, tell the sad story, and then follows another beautiful chorale of submission ("To Thee, O Lord, I yield my Spirit"). Saul's participation in the tragedy is barely touched upon. The lament for Stephen is followed by the chorus, "Happy and blest are they," which is beautifully melodious in character. Saul now appears, "breathing out threatenings and slaughter" against the apostles. His first aria ("Consume them all") is a bass solo which is fiery in its energy. It is followed by the lovely arioso for alto, "But the Lord is mindful of His own,"--fitting companion to the equally beautiful "O rest in the Lord" from "Elijah," and much resembling it in general style. Then occurs the conversion. The voice from heaven ("Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?") is represented, as was often done in the passion-music, by the soprano choir, which gives it peculiar significance and makes it stand out in striking contrast with the rest of the work. A forcible orchestral interlude, worked up in a strong crescendo, leads to the vigorous chorus, "Rise up! arise!" in which the powerful orchestral climax adds great strength to the vocal part. It is a vigorously constructed chorus, and is followed by a chorale ("Sleepers, wake! a Voice is calling"), which still further heightens the effect by its trumpet notes between the lines. At the close of the imposing harmony the music grows deeper and more serious in character as Saul breathes out his prayer, "O God, have Mercy upon me;" and again, after the message of forgiveness and mercy delivered by Ananias, more joyful and exultant in the bass solo with chorus ("I praise Thee, O Lord, my God"), Saul receives his sight, and straightway begins his ministrations. A grand reflective chorus ("O great is the Depth of the Riches of Wisdom"), strong and jubilant in character, and rising to a powerful climax, closes the first part.

The second part opens with the five-part chorus, "The Nations are now the Lord's,"--a clear fugue, very stately and dignified in its style, leading, after a tenor and bass duet ("Now all are Ambassadors in the Name of Christ"), to the beautifully melodious chorus, "How lovely are the Messengers that preach us the Gospel of Peace," and the equally beautiful soprano arioso, "I will sing of Thy great Mercies." After the chorus, "Thus saith the Lord," and a second tumultuous chorus expressive of rage and scorn ("Is this He who in Jerusalem"), another chorale occurs ("O Thou, the true and only Light"), in which the Church prays for direction. The tenor recitative announcing the departure of Paul and Barnabas to the Gentiles, followed by the tenor and bass duet, "For so hath the Lord Himself commanded," bring us to the scene of the sacrifice at Lystra, in which the two choruses, "The Gods themselves as Mortals," and "O be gracious, ye Immortals," are full of genuine Greek sensuousness and in striking contrast with the seriousness and majestic character of the harmony in the Christian chorus ("But our God abideth in Heaven") which follows. Once more the Jews interfere, in the raging, wrathful chorus, "This is Jehovah's Temple." In a pathetic tenor aria ("Be thou faithful unto Death") Paul takes a sorrowful leave of his brethren, and in response comes an equally tender chorus, "Far be it from thy Path." Two stately choruses ("See what Love hath the Father," and "Now only unto Him") close the work.

Hymn of Praise.

The "Lobgesang" ("Hymn of Praise") was written at Leipsic in 1840, the occasion which gave birth to it being the fourth centennial celebration of the art of printing. The musical features of the festival were intrusted to Mendelssohn, the ceremonies occupying two days, June 24 and 25 of the above year. On the evening of the 23d there was a performance of Lortzing's opera, "Hans Sachs," written for the occasion. On the morning of the 24th there was a service in the church, followed by the unveiling of the statue of Guttenberg in the public square, and an open-air performance of the composer's "Festgesang" for two choirs, with trombone accompaniment, David conducting one choir, and Mendelssohn the other. In the afternoon of the 25th the "Hymn of Praise" was given for the first time in St. Thomas's Church, preceded by Weber's "Jubilee Overture" and Handel's "Dettingen Te Deum." Lampadius, who was present at the performance, says:--

"The work called out the greatest enthusiasm, which could hardly be
repressed within bounds even by the fact that the audience were seated
within the walls of a church. After the first duet a subdued whisper of
applause ran through the edifice and betrayed the suppressed delight of
the listeners. On one of the evenings following, a torchlight
procession was made in honor of the great composer. Mendelssohn, who
then lived in Lurgenstein's Garden, appeared at the window, his face
lighted up with joy. 'Gentlemen,' he said in his neat, quiet way, with
a sensible trembling of the voice, 'you know that it is not my manner
to make many words; but I heartily thank you.' A loud 'Hoch!' three
times shouted, was our reply."

Its next performance was at Birmingham, Sept. 23, 1840, Mendelssohn himself conducting. After this performance it was considerably changed, and the whole scene of the watchman was added. The idea occurred to him after a sleepless night, during which, as he informed a friend, the words, "Will the night soon pass?" incessantly came into his mind.

The title given to the "Hymn of Praise," "a symphony-cantata," was first suggested by his friend Carl Klingemann, of London, as will be seen by the following interesting extract from a letter written by Mendelssohn to him, Nov. 18, 1840:--

"My 'Hymn of Praise' is to be performed the end of this month for the
benefit of old invalided musicians. I am determined, however, that it
shall not be produced in the imperfect form in which, owing to my
illness, it was given in Birmingham; so that makes me work hard. Four
new pieces are to be added, and I have also much improved the three
sets of symphonies, which are now in the hands of the copyist. As an
introduction to the chorus, 'The Night is passed,' I have found far
finer words in the Bible, and admirably adapted to the music. By the
by, you have much to answer for in the admirable title you hit on so
cleverly; for not only have I sent forth the piece into the world as a
symphony-cantata, but I have serious thoughts of resuming the first
'Walpurgis Night' (which has been so long lying by me) under the same
cognomen, and finishing and getting rid of it at last. It is singular
enough that at the very first suggestion of this idea I should have
written to Berlin that I was resolved to compose a symphony with a
chorus. Subsequently I had not courage to begin, because the three
movements were too long for an introduction; and yet I never could
divest myself of the impression that something was wanting in the shape
of an introduction. Now the symphony is to be inserted according to my
original intention, and the piece brought out at once."

The text to the "Hymn of Praise" is not in narrative form, nor has it any particular dramatic significance. It is what its name indicates,--a tribute of praise. Lampadius says the composer undertook to show "the triumph at the creation of light over darkness. With his pious and believing heart he could easily enter into that theme, and show with matchless power and skill the closing-in of those ancient foes, and the victory of light when darkness cowered and ignobly shrank away." The expression of delight over this victory is very well brought out, not only in the music, but also in the arrangement of the Scriptural texts, which begin with exhortations of praise, and appeals to those who have been in distress and affliction to trust the Lord. The tenor, who may be regarded as the Narrator, calls upon the Watchman, "What of the night?" The response comes that the night has passed. In exultation over the victory, once more the text ascribes praise to the Lord. "All that has life and breath" sings to His name.

The symphony is in three parts, beginning with a maestoso movement, in which the trombones at once give out the choral motive, "All that has life and breath sing to the Lord,"--a favorite theme of Mendelssohn. This movement, which is strong and energetic in character, is followed by an allegretto based upon a beautiful melody, and to this in turn succeeds an adagio religioso rich in harmony. The symphony clearly reflects the spirit of the cantata, which follows. The opening chorus ("All that has Life and Breath") is based upon the choral motive, and enunciates the real hymn of praise. It moves along in a stately manner, and finally leads without break into a semi-chorus, "Praise thou the Lord, O my Spirit," a soprano solo with accompaniment of female voices. The tenor in a long dramatic recitative ("Sing ye Praise, all ye redeemed of the Lord") urges the faithful to join in praise and extol His goodness, and the chorus responds, first, the tenors, and then all the parts, in a beautiful number, "All ye that cried unto the Lord." The next number is an exquisite duet for soprano and alto with chorus ("I waited for the Lord"). It is thoroughly devotional in style, and in its general color and effect reminds one of the arias, "O Rest in the Lord" from "Elijah," and "The Lord is mindful of His own" from "St. Paul." This duet is followed by a sorrowful, almost wailing tenor solo, "The Sorrows of Death had closed all around me," ending with the piercing, anxious cry in recitative, "Watchman! will the Night soon pass?" set to a restless, agitated accompaniment and thrice repeated. Like a flash from a cloud comes the quick response of the chorus, "The Night is departing," which forms the climax of the work. The chorus is beautifully constructed, and very impressive in its effect. At first the full chorus proclaims the night's departure; it then takes the fugal form on the words, "Therefore let us cast off the works of darkness," which is most effectively worked out.

In the finale the male voices are massed on the declaration, "The Night is departing," and the female voices on the response, "The Day is approaching;" and after alternating repetitions all close in broad, flowing harmony. This chorus leads directly to the chorale, "Let all Men praise the Lord," sung first without accompaniment, and then in unison with orchestra. Another beautiful duet, "My Song shall alway be Thy Mercy," this time for soprano and tenor, follows, and prepares the way for the final fugued chorus, "Ye Nations, offer to the Lord," a massive number, stately in its proportions and impressive in its effect, and closing with a fortissimo delivery of the splendid choral motive, "All that has Life and Breath."

Notwithstanding that the choral part is brief as compared with the "St. Paul" and "Elijah," there are many critics who are inclined to pronounce the "Hymn of Praise" Mendelssohn's greatest work. In its combination of the symphony and the voice parts, the one growing out of the other and both so intimately connected, it stands almost alone. Some critics have condemned Mendelssohn for imitating Beethoven's Choral Symphony, though in that colossal work the chorus is not only subordinate to the symphony, but is even trifling in length as compared with it, and very inferior in style. While in Mendelssohn's work the symphony is subordinated to the choral part, and serves only as an introduction to it, they are yet conventionally connected; but in Beethoven's work the chorus was the product of necessity, as the idea could not have been developed without it. The instruments had gone as far as possible; the voices _must_ speak.

Elijah.

"Elijah," the most admired of all Mendelssohn's compositions, was finished in 1846. The plan of the work was first considered in 1837, and was discussed with his friend Klingemann in London. During the next year he had frequent consultations with another friend, Schubring, as to the preparation of the book, and many of the passages were selected and scenes sketched out; but it was not until 1840 that he really began to put it into shape. We learn by a letter that in 1842 he was still at work upon the book itself. Two years later he received an invitation to conduct the Birmingham Festival of 1846; and it was evidently at that time he decided to prepare the work for that occasion. We learn by another letter that on the 23d of May, 1846, the entire first part and six or eight numbers of the second part were sent to London to a Mr. Bartholomew, who was engaged translating the text into English. That Mendelssohn himself was pleased with his work is evident from his own words, written to a friend after he had finished the first part: "I am jumping about my room for joy. If it only turns out half as good as I fancy, how pleased I shall be!" By the latter part of July the entire oratorio was in the hands of Mr. Bartholomew, and on August 18 Mendelssohn himself arrived in London and immediately began the rehearsals. The work was first performed on the 26th at Birmingham, coming between Haydn's "Creation" on the 25th, and Handel's "Messiah" on the 27th, the latter oratorio being followed by Beethoven's Mass in D. A correspondent who was present writes:--

"How shall I describe what to-day has been in the Music Hall? After
such an intense enjoyment it is a hard task to express one's feelings
in cold words. It was a great day for the festival, a great day for the
performers, a great day for Mendelssohn, a great day for art. Four
da-capos in the first part, four in the second, making eight encores,
and at the close the calling out of the composer,--are significant
facts when one considers that it was the rigid injunction of the
Committee that the public should not testify its approval by applause.
But the enthusiasm would be checked by no rules; when the heart is
full, regulations must stand aside. It was a noble scene, the hall
filled with men, the galleries gay with ladies, like so many
tulip-beds, added to the princely music and their thundering bravas."

Mendelssohn himself on the day after the performance writes to his brother in Berlin:--

"No work of mine ever went so admirably the first time of execution, or
was received with such enthusiasm by both the musicians and the
audience, as this oratorio. It was quite evident at the first rehearsal
in London that they liked it, and liked to sing and play it; but I own
I was far from anticipating that it would acquire such fresh vigor and
impetus at the performance. Had you only been there! During the whole
two hours and a half that it lasted, the large hall, with its two
thousand people, and the large orchestra were all so fully intent on
the one object in question that not the slightest sound was to be heard
among the whole audience, so that I could sway at pleasure the enormous
orchestra and choir, and also the organ accompaniments. How often I
thought of you during the time! more especially, however, when 'the
sound of abundance of rain' came, and when they sang and played the
final chorus with _furore_, and when, after the close of the first
part, we were obliged to repeat the whole movement. Not less than four
choruses and four airs were encored, and not one single mistake
occurred in the first part; there were some afterwards in the second
part, but even these were but trifling. A young English tenor[6] sang
the last air with such wonderful sweetness that I was obliged to
collect all my energies, not to be affected, and to continue beating
time steadily."

Notwithstanding his delight with the performance, he was not satisfied with the oratorio as a whole. He made numerous changes and re-wrote portions of the work,--indeed there was scarcely a movement that was not retouched. It is interesting to note in this connection that the beautiful trio, "Lift thine Eyes," was originally a duet, and very different in character. The first performance of the work in London took place April 16, 1847, when it was given by the Sacred Harmonic Society. Her Majesty and Prince Albert were in attendance; and after the performance the Prince sent to Mendelssohn the score which he had used in following the music, with the following tribute written in it:--

To the noble artist who, surrounded by the Baal-worship of corrupted
art, has been able by his genius and science to preserve faithfully,
like another Elijah, the worship of true art, and once more to accustom
our ear, lost in the whirl of an empty play of sounds, to the pure
notes of expressive composition and legitimate harmony; to the great
master who makes us conscious of the unity of his conception through
the whole maze of his creation, from the soft whispering to the mighty
raging of the elements.

Written in token of grateful remembrance by

Albert.

Buckingham Palace, April 24, 1847.

The text was mainly compiled from the First Book of Kings, and was translated, as has been said, by Mr. Bartholomew. Hiller says that the idea of the oratorio was first suggested by the verse in the nineteenth chapter, "Behold, the Lord passed by," and that Mendelssohn, while reading it, remarked to him, "Would not that be splendid for an oratorio?" The prominent scenes treated are the drought prophecy, the raising of the widow's son, the rival sacrifices, the appearance of the rain in answer to Elijah's appeal, Jezebel's persecution of Elijah, the sojourn in the desert, his return, his disappearance in the fiery chariot, and the finale, which reflects upon the meaning of the sacred narrative. The scenes themselves indicate the dramatic character of the oratorio. In this respect, indeed, Mendelssohn may almost be said to have created a new school of oratorio construction. "Elijah" could be placed upon the stage with scenery, costume, and properties as a sacred opera, and make a powerful impression,--almost as much so, indeed, as Rossini's "Moses." Mendelssohn's own testimony on this point is interesting. In a letter written Nov. 2, 1838, to Pastor Julius Schubring, who was assisting him in the preparation of the book, he says:--

"I figured to myself Elijah as a grand, mighty prophet, such as we
might again require in our own day,--energetic and zealous, but also
stern, wrathful, and gloomy; a striking contrast to the court myrmidons
and popular rabble,--in fact, in opposition to the whole world, and yet
borne on angel's wings.... I am anxious to do justice to the dramatic
element, and, as you say, no epic narrative must be introduced.... I
would fain see the dramatic element more prominent, as well as more
exuberant and defined,--appeal and rejoinder, question and answer,
sudden interruptions, etc."

Again, on the 6th of December, he writes:--

"In such a character as that of Elijah, like every one in the Old
Testament (except, perhaps, Moses), it appears to me that the dramatic
should predominate, the personages should be introduced as acting and
speaking with fervor,--not, however, for Heaven's sake, to become mere
musical pictures, but inhabitants of a positive, practical world such
as we see in every chapter of the Old Testament; and the contemplative
and pathetic element, which you desire, must be entirely conveyed to
our apprehension by the words and the mood of the acting personages."

The introduction to the oratorio is prefaced by a brief but very impressive recitative,--Elijah's prophecy of the drought; leading directly to the overture, a sombre, despairing prelude, picturing the distress which is to follow as the curse settles down upon the streams and valleys. At last the suffering is voiced in the opening chorus ("Help, Lord"), which, after three passionate appeals, moves along in plaintive beauty, developing phrase after phrase of touching appeal, and leading to a second chorus, with duet for two sopranos ("Lord, bow Thine Ear to our Prayer"), the choral part of which is an old Jewish chant, sung alternately by the male and female voices in unison. It is followed by Obadiah's lovely tenor aria, "If with all your Hearts," full of tenderness and consolation. Again the People break out into a chorus of lamentation ("Yet doth the Lord see it not"), which at the close develops into a chorale of graceful and serene beauty ("For He the Lord our God"). Then follows the voice of an Angel summoning Elijah to the brook of Cherith, leading to the beautiful double quartet, "For He shall give His Angels Charge over thee," the melody of which is simple, but full of animation, and worked up with a skilful effect. Again the Angel summons Elijah to go to the Widow's house at Zarephath. The dramatic scene of the raising of her son ensues, comprising a passionate song by the mother ("What have I to do with thee?") and the noble declaration of the prophet, "Give me thy Son," and closing with the reflective chorus, "Blessed are the Men who fear Him."