The Christmas Oratorio.

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[34]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[35]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[36]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,' composedA.D.1600 (by Hans Geo. Hassler to a secular tune), and used by Bach five times to different words in the 'Matthäus-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[37]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 'Matthäus-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,[38]"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[39]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 "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[34]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[35]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[36]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,' composedA.D.1600 (by Hans Geo. Hassler to a secular tune), and used by Bach five times to different words in the 'Matthäus-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[37]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 'Matthäus-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,[38]"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[39]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[40]of Mediæval 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.[41]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. Thedramatis personæare Jesus, Judas, Peter, Pilate, the Apostles, and the People, orTurbæ, 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[42]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[43]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 pæans 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[44]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[45]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,[46]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[47]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.[48]No chorus ever sung is surer to enlist the singers' hearts."

The passion-music of Bach's time, as we have already seen, was the complement of the mysteries[40]of Mediæval 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. Thedramatis personæare Jesus, Judas, Peter, Pilate, the Apostles, and the People, orTurbæ, 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[42]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[43]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 pæans 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[44]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[45]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!"

"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,[46]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[47]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.[48]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, ätzet 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[49]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 ancillæ suæ"), 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 misericordiæ suæ"), 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[50]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."

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, ätzet 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[49]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 ancillæ suæ"), 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 misericordiæ suæ"), 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[50]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."

[51]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.[52]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[53]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.

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.[52]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[53]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[54]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 Schönbrunn, 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[55]still retained a lively recollection, was, that he composed them in the thickest part of the wood in the park of Schönbrunn, 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[56]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[57]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 thechef-d'œuvreof 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[58]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[59]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.

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[54]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 Schönbrunn, 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[55]still retained a lively recollection, was, that he composed them in the thickest part of the wood in the park of Schönbrunn, 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[56]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[57]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 thechef-d'œuvreof 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[58]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[59]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.

[60]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 "Naïades" 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[61]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[62]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."

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 "Naïades" 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[61]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[62]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[63]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[64]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[65]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[66]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."[67]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.

"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[63]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[64]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[65]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[66]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.

Back to Index Next