  Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy, the son of a Berlin banker, was born at Hamburg, Feb. 3, 1809, and, unlike almost all other composers, was reared in the lap of luxury. Every advantage which wealth could procure he enjoyed, with the result that he became highly educated in the other arts as well as in music. His teachers in music were Zelter and Ludwig Berger, and he made such progress that in his ninth year he appeared in public as a pianist in Berlin, and afterwards in Paris. The first of his compositions to attract general notice were the overture to Shakspeare's "Midsummer Night's Dream" and the little opera "The Marriage of Camacho," which were brought out in Berlin in 1827. After several concert tours, in which he met with great success, he resided for some time in DÜsseldorf. In 1835 he went to Leipsic as director of the famous Gewandhaus concerts,--which are still given in that city. Two years later he married CÉcile Jeanrenaud, the beautiful daughter of a minister of the Reformed Church in Frankfort, and [207] shortly afterwards went to Berlin as general director of church music. In 1843 he returned to his former post in Leipsic, and also took a position in the newly established Conservatory, where he spent the remainder of his days in company with his family, to whom he was closely attached. He has left a large and rich collection of musical works, which are favorites the world over. His three great oratorios are the "Hymn of Praise," catalogued as a symphony-cantata, "St. Paul," and "Elijah." The last is specially interesting, as it marked a new departure from the conventional forms of oratorio, and gave the widest scope to the dramatic elements,--to such a degree, in fact, that it might with propriety be styled a sacred opera. Besides these oratorios, his exquisite music to the "Midsummer Night's Dream," which is familiar the world over, and his stately dramatic music to "Antigone," he has left five symphonies, of which the "Scotch," the "Italian," and the "Reformation" are best known; four exquisite overtures, "Ruy Blas," "Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage," "Hebrides," and "Melusina;" the very dramatic cantata, "The Walpurgis Night;" a long list of beautiful songs for one or more voices; the incidental music to Racine's "Athalia;" a very large collection of sacred music, such as psalms, hymns, anthems, and cantatas; several beautiful trios and other specimens of chamber-music; and the lovely "Songs without Words," which are to be found upon almost every piano, the beauty and freshness of which time has not impaired. Mendelssohn [208] never wrote a grand opera, owing to his fastidiousness as to a libretto; though he finally obtained one from Geibel, on the subject of the "Loreley," which suited him. He had begun to write it, and had finished the finale to the first act, when death interrupted his work, Nov. 4, 1847. Mendelssohn was a man of remarkable beauty, and his character corresponded to his charm of person. He had a liberal education, was a man of broad culture, a clever artist, and a very skilful writer, as is shown by his volumes of letters from Italy and Switzerland. Possessed of these graces of mind and person, and having all the advantages that wealth could bestow, he lacked those incentives which in other composers have brought out the deepest, highest, and most majestic forms of musical expression. His music is a reflex of his life; grace, elegance, culture, and finish are its characteristics. St. Paul."St. Paul," the first of Mendelssohn's oratorios, was begun in DÜsseldorf and finished in Leipsic in the winter of 1835, the composer being then in his twenty-sixth year. He first applied to Marx to write the text; but the invitation was declined, on the ground that the chorales were unsuited to the period of the narrative. Mendelssohn then consulted with his friends FÜrst and Schubring, and the libretto as it now stands represents their joint [209] compilation. Its three principal themes are the martyrdom of Saint Stephen, the conversion of Saint Paul, and the apostle's subsequent career. One of the clearest statements of the general character of the work is that given by Lampadius; he says:--
The work was written upon a commission given by the Cecilien Verein of Frankfort in 1831; but it was not produced until May 22, 1836, on the occasion of the Lower Rhine Festival at DÜsseldorf. The principal parts were sung by Madame Fischer-Achten, Mademoiselle Grabau, Herren Schmetzer and Wersing, the latter artist taking the part of Paul. The second performance was given at Liverpool, Oct. 3, 1836; and between the two performances Mendelssohn revised the work and cut out fourteen numbers. [210]After a long and expressive overture for orchestra and organ, the first part opens with a strong and exultant chorus ("Lord! Thou alone art God"). It is massively constructed, and in its middle part runs into a restless, agitated theme ("The Heathen furiously rage"). It closes, however, in the same energetic and jubilant manner which characterizes its opening, and leads directly to a chorale ("To God on High"), set to a famous old German hymn-book tune, "Allein Gott in der HÖh' sei Ehr," which is serenely beautiful in its clearly flowing harmony. The martyrdom of Stephen follows. The basses in vigorous recitative accuse him of blasphemy, and the people break out in an angry chorus ("Now this Man ceaseth not to utter blasphemous Words"). At its close Stephen sings a brief but beautiful solo ("Men, Brethren, and Fathers!"); and as the calm protest dies away, again the full chorus gives vent to a tumultuous shout of indignation ("Take him away"). A note of warning is heard in the fervent soprano solo, "Jerusalem, thou that killest the Prophets;" but it is of no avail. Again the chorus hurls its imprecations more furiously than before ("Stone him to death"). The tragedy occurs. A few bars of recitative for tenor, full of pathos, tell the sad story, and then follows another beautiful chorale of submission ("To Thee, O Lord, I yield my Spirit"). Saul's participation in the tragedy is barely touched upon. The lament for Stephen is followed by the chorus, "Happy and blest are they," which is [211] beautifully melodious in character. Saul now appears, "breathing out threatenings and slaughter" against the apostles. His first aria ("Consume them all") is a bass solo which is fiery in its energy. It is followed by the lovely arioso for alto, "But the Lord is mindful of His own,"--fitting companion to the equally beautiful "O rest in the Lord" from "Elijah," and much resembling it in general style. Then occurs the conversion. The voice from heaven ("Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?") is represented, as was often done in the passion-music, by the soprano choir, which gives it peculiar significance and makes it stand out in striking contrast with the rest of the work. A forcible orchestral interlude, worked up in a strong crescendo, leads to the vigorous chorus, "Rise up! arise!" in which the powerful orchestral climax adds great strength to the vocal part. It is a vigorously constructed chorus, and is followed by a chorale ("Sleepers, wake! a Voice is calling"), which still further heightens the effect by its trumpet notes between the lines. At the close of the imposing harmony the music grows deeper and more serious in character as Saul breathes out his prayer, "O God, have Mercy upon me;" and again, after the message of forgiveness and mercy delivered by Ananias, more joyful and exultant in the bass solo with chorus ("I praise Thee, O Lord, my God"), Saul receives his sight, and straightway begins his ministrations. A grand reflective chorus ("O great is the Depth of the Riches of Wisdom"), strong and jubilant in [212] character, and rising to a powerful climax, closes the first part. The second part opens with the five-part chorus, "The Nations are now the Lord's,"--a clear fugue, very stately and dignified in its style, leading, after a tenor and bass duet ("Now all are Ambassadors in the Name of Christ"), to the beautifully melodious chorus, "How lovely are the Messengers that preach us the Gospel of Peace," and the equally beautiful soprano arioso, "I will sing of Thy great Mercies." After the chorus, "Thus saith the Lord," and a second tumultuous chorus expressive of rage and scorn ("Is this He who in Jerusalem"), another chorale occurs ("O Thou, the true and only Light"), in which the Church prays for direction. The tenor recitative announcing the departure of Paul and Barnabas to the Gentiles, followed by the tenor and bass duet, "For so hath the Lord Himself commanded," bring us to the scene of the sacrifice at Lystra, in which the two choruses, "The Gods themselves as Mortals," and "O be gracious, ye Immortals," are full of genuine Greek sensuousness and in striking contrast with the seriousness and majestic character of the harmony in the Christian chorus ("But our God abideth in Heaven") which follows. Once more the Jews interfere, in the raging, wrathful chorus, "This is Jehovah's Temple." In a pathetic tenor aria ("Be thou faithful unto Death") Paul takes a sorrowful leave of his brethren, and in response comes an equally tender chorus, "Far be it from thy [213] Path." Two stately choruses ("See what Love hath the Father," and "Now only unto Him") close the work. The "Lobgesang" ("Hymn of Praise") was written at Leipsic in 1840, the occasion which gave birth to it being the fourth centennial celebration of the art of printing. The musical features of the festival were intrusted to Mendelssohn, the ceremonies occupying two days, June 24 and 25 of the above year. On the evening of the 23d there was a performance of Lortzing's opera, "Hans Sachs," written for the occasion. On the morning of the 24th there was a service in the church, followed by the unveiling of the statue of Guttenberg in the public square, and an open-air performance of the composer's "Festgesang" for two choirs, with trombone accompaniment, David conducting one choir, and Mendelssohn the other. In the afternoon of the 25th the "Hymn of Praise" was given for the first time in St. Thomas's Church, preceded by Weber's "Jubilee Overture" and Handel's "Dettingen Te Deum." Lampadius, who was present at the performance, says:--
Its next performance was at Birmingham, Sept. 23, 1840, Mendelssohn himself conducting. After this performance it was considerably changed, and the whole scene of the watchman was added. The idea occurred to him after a sleepless night, during which, as he informed a friend, the words, "Will the night soon pass?" incessantly came into his mind. The title given to the "Hymn of Praise," "a symphony-cantata," was first suggested by his friend Carl Klingemann, of London, as will be seen by the following interesting extract from a letter written by Mendelssohn to him, Nov. 18, 1840:--
The text to the "Hymn of Praise" is not in narrative form, nor has it any particular dramatic significance. It is what its name indicates,--a tribute of praise. Lampadius says the composer undertook to show "the triumph at the creation of light over darkness. With his pious and believing heart he could easily enter into that theme, and show with matchless power and skill the closing-in of those ancient foes, and the victory of light when darkness cowered and ignobly shrank away." The expression of delight over this victory is very well brought out, not only in the music, but also in the arrangement of the Scriptural texts, which begin with exhortations of praise, and appeals to those who have been in distress and affliction to trust the Lord. [216] The tenor, who may be regarded as the Narrator, calls upon the Watchman, "What of the night?" The response comes that the night has passed. In exultation over the victory, once more the text ascribes praise to the Lord. "All that has life and breath" sings to His name. The symphony is in three parts, beginning with a maestoso movement, in which the trombones at once give out the choral motive, "All that has life and breath sing to the Lord,"--a favorite theme of Mendelssohn. This movement, which is strong and energetic in character, is followed by an allegretto based upon a beautiful melody, and to this in turn succeeds an adagio religioso rich in harmony. The symphony clearly reflects the spirit of the cantata, which follows. The opening chorus ("All that has Life and Breath") is based upon the choral motive, and enunciates the real hymn of praise. It moves along in a stately manner, and finally leads without break into a semi-chorus, "Praise thou the Lord, O my Spirit," a soprano solo with accompaniment of female voices. The tenor in a long dramatic recitative ("Sing ye Praise, all ye redeemed of the Lord") urges the faithful to join in praise and extol His goodness, and the chorus responds, first, the tenors, and then all the parts, in a beautiful number, "All ye that cried unto the Lord." The next number is an exquisite duet for soprano and alto with chorus ("I waited for the Lord"). It is thoroughly devotional in style, and in its general color and effect reminds one [217] of the arias, "O Rest in the Lord" from "Elijah," and "The Lord is mindful of His own" from "St. Paul." This duet is followed by a sorrowful, almost wailing tenor solo, "The Sorrows of Death had closed all around me," ending with the piercing, anxious cry in recitative, "Watchman! will the Night soon pass?" set to a restless, agitated accompaniment and thrice repeated. Like a flash from a cloud comes the quick response of the chorus, "The Night is departing," which forms the climax of the work. The chorus is beautifully constructed, and very impressive in its effect. At first the full chorus proclaims the night's departure; it then takes the fugal form on the words, "Therefore let us cast off the works of darkness," which is most effectively worked out. In the finale the male voices are massed on the declaration, "The Night is departing," and the female voices on the response, "The Day is approaching;" and after alternating repetitions all close in broad, flowing harmony. This chorus leads directly to the chorale, "Let all Men praise the Lord," sung first without accompaniment, and then in unison with orchestra. Another beautiful duet, "My Song shall alway be Thy Mercy," this time for soprano and tenor, follows, and prepares the way for the final fugued chorus, "Ye Nations, offer to the Lord," a massive number, stately in its proportions and impressive in its effect, and closing with a fortissimo delivery of the splendid choral motive, "All that has Life and Breath." [218]Notwithstanding that the choral part is brief as compared with the "St. Paul" and "Elijah," there are many critics who are inclined to pronounce the "Hymn of Praise" Mendelssohn's greatest work. In its combination of the symphony and the voice parts, the one growing out of the other and both so intimately connected, it stands almost alone. Some critics have condemned Mendelssohn for imitating Beethoven's Choral Symphony, though in that colossal work the chorus is not only subordinate to the symphony, but is even trifling in length as compared with it, and very inferior in style. While in Mendelssohn's work the symphony is subordinated to the choral part, and serves only as an introduction to it, they are yet conventionally connected; but in Beethoven's work the chorus was the product of necessity, as the idea could not have been developed without it. The instruments had gone as far as possible; the voices must speak. Elijah."Elijah," the most admired of all Mendelssohn's compositions, was finished in 1846. The plan of the work was first considered in 1837, and was discussed with his friend Klingemann in London. During the next year he had frequent consultations with another friend, Schubring, as to the preparation of the book, and many of the passages were selected and scenes sketched out; but [219] it was not until 1840 that he really began to put it into shape. We learn by a letter that in 1842 he was still at work upon the book itself. Two years later he received an invitation to conduct the Birmingham Festival of 1846; and it was evidently at that time he decided to prepare the work for that occasion. We learn by another letter that on the 23d of May, 1846, the entire first part and six or eight numbers of the second part were sent to London to a Mr. Bartholomew, who was engaged translating the text into English. That Mendelssohn himself was pleased with his work is evident from his own words, written to a friend after he had finished the first part: "I am jumping about my room for joy. If it only turns out half as good as I fancy, how pleased I shall be!" By the latter part of July the entire oratorio was in the hands of Mr. Bartholomew, and on August 18 Mendelssohn himself arrived in London and immediately began the rehearsals. The work was first performed on the 26th at Birmingham, coming between Haydn's "Creation" on the 25th, and Handel's "Messiah" on the 27th, the latter oratorio being followed by Beethoven's Mass in D. A correspondent who was present writes:--
Mendelssohn himself on the day after the performance writes to his brother in Berlin:--
Notwithstanding his delight with the performance, he was not satisfied with the oratorio as a whole. He made numerous changes and re-wrote portions of the work,--indeed there was scarcely a movement that was not retouched. It is interesting to note in this connection that the beautiful trio, "Lift thine Eyes," was originally a duet, and very different in character. The first performance of the work in London took place April 16, 1847, when it was given by the Sacred Harmonic Society. Her Majesty and Prince Albert were in attendance; and after the performance the Prince sent to Mendelssohn the score which he had used in following the music, with the following tribute written in it:--
The text was mainly compiled from the First Book of Kings, and was translated, as has been said, by Mr. Bartholomew. Hiller says that the idea of the oratorio was first suggested by the verse in the nineteenth chapter, "Behold, the Lord passed by," and that Mendelssohn, while reading it, remarked to him, "Would not that be splendid for an oratorio?" The prominent scenes treated are the drought prophecy, the raising of the widow's son, the rival sacrifices, the appearance of the rain in answer to Elijah's appeal, Jezebel's persecution of Elijah, the sojourn in the desert, his return, his disappearance in the fiery chariot, and the finale, which reflects upon the meaning of the sacred narrative. The scenes themselves indicate the dramatic character of the oratorio. In this respect, indeed, Mendelssohn may almost be said to have created a new school of oratorio construction. "Elijah" could be placed upon the stage with scenery, costume, and properties as a sacred opera, and make a powerful impression,--almost as much so, indeed, as Rossini's "Moses." Mendelssohn's own testimony on this point is interesting. In a letter written Nov. 2, 1838, to Pastor Julius Schubring, who was assisting him in the preparation of the book, he says:-- [223]
Again, on the 6th of December, he writes:--
The introduction to the oratorio is prefaced by a brief but very impressive recitative,--Elijah's prophecy of the drought; leading directly to the overture, a sombre, despairing prelude, picturing the distress which is to follow as the curse settles down upon the streams and valleys. At last the suffering is voiced in the opening chorus ("Help, [224] Lord"), which, after three passionate appeals, moves along in plaintive beauty, developing phrase after phrase of touching appeal, and leading to a second chorus, with duet for two sopranos ("Lord, bow Thine Ear to our Prayer"), the choral part of which is an old Jewish chant, sung alternately by the male and female voices in unison. It is followed by Obadiah's lovely tenor aria, "If with all your Hearts," full of tenderness and consolation. Again the People break out into a chorus of lamentation ("Yet doth the Lord see it not"), which at the close develops into a chorale of graceful and serene beauty ("For He the Lord our God"). Then follows the voice of an Angel summoning Elijah to the brook of Cherith, leading to the beautiful double quartet, "For He shall give His Angels Charge over thee," the melody of which is simple, but full of animation, and worked up with a skilful effect. Again the Angel summons Elijah to go to the Widow's house at Zarephath. The dramatic scene of the raising of her son ensues, comprising a passionate song by the mother ("What have I to do with thee?") and the noble declaration of the prophet, "Give me thy Son," and closing with the reflective chorus, "Blessed are the Men who fear Him." In the next scene we have the appearance of Elijah before Ahab, and the challenge of the Priests of Baal to the sacrifice on Mount Carmel, set forth in vigorous recitative, accompanied by short choral outbursts. At the words of Elijah, "Invoke your [225] forest gods and mountain deities," the Priests of Baal break out into the stirring double-chorus, "Baal, we cry to thee," which is fairly sensual and heathenish in its rugged, abrupt melodies, as compared with the Christian music. At its close Elijah bids them "call him louder, for he is a god; he talketh, or he is pursuing." Again they break out into a chorus of barbaric energy ("Hear our Cry, O Baal"), in the intervals of which Elijah taunts them again and again with the appeal, "Call him louder." The Priests renew their shouts, each time with increasing force, "pausing in vain for the reply, and closing with a rapid, almost angry expostulation ("Hear and answer"). Then follows the calm, dignified prayer of the prophet ("Lord God of Abraham"), succeeded by a simple, but beautiful chorale ("Cast thy Burden upon the Lord"). It is the moment of quiet before the storm which is to come. He calls for the fire to descend upon the altar, and a chorus of passionate energy replies, "The Fire descends from Heaven," accompanied by imitative music, and closing with a brief movement in broad harmony. In fierce recitative Elijah dooms the Priests of Baal to destruction, and after a short choral reply sings the bass aria, "Is not His Word like a Fire?"--a song of extraordinary difficulty, and requiring a voice of exceptional accuracy and power for its proper performance. A lovely arioso for alto ("Woe unto them") follows Elijah's vigorous declamation. These two arias are connecting links between the fire chorus and [226] the rain scene which ensues. Obadiah summons Elijah to help the People, and Elijah replies in an exquisite little andante passage, repeated by the chorus ("Open the Heavens and send us Relief"). Then follows a dialogue-passage between the prophet, the People, and the Youth, whom he bids "look toward the sea,"--the most striking features of which are the responses of the Youth and the orchestral climax as the heavens grow black and "the storm rushes louder and louder." As the deluge of rain descends, the thankful People break out into a passionate shout of delight ("Thanks be to God"), heard above the tempest in the orchestra. At first it is a brief expression of gratitude. The voices come to a pause, and Elijah repeats the tribute of praise. Then all join in a surging tumult of harmony, as fresh and delightful as was the pouring rain to the thirsty land, voices and instruments vying with each other in joyful acclamations, until the end is reached and the first part closes. The second part opens with a brilliant soprano solo ("Hear ye, Israel"), beginning with a note of warning, and then with trumpet obligato developing into another melody of an impetuous and animated description ("I, I am He that comforteth"). The solo leads to the magnificent chorus, "Be not afraid," in which, after a short pause, the entire force of voices, orchestra, and organ join in the sublime strain, sweeping on in broad, full harmony. There is a pause of the voices for two bars, then [227] they move on in a strong fugue ("Though Thousands languish and fall"). At its close they are all merged again in the grand announcement, "Be not afraid," delivered with impetuosity, and ending with the same subject in powerful chorale form. The scene which follows is intensely dramatic. The prophet rebukes Ahab and condemns the Baal worship. Jezebel fiercely accuses Elijah of conspiring against Israel, and the People in sharp, impetuous phrases declare, "He shall perish," leading to the chorus, "Woe to him!" After a few bars for the instruments, Obadiah, in an exquisite recitative, counsels him to fly to the wilderness. In the next scene we behold Elijah alone, and in a feeble but infinitely tender plaint he resigns himself. It is hard to conceive anything grander and yet more pathetic than this aria, "It is enough," in which the prophet prays for death. A few bars of tenor recitative tell us that, wearied out, he has fallen asleep ("See, now he sleepeth beneath a juniper-tree in the wilderness, and there the angels of the Lord encamp round about all them that fear Him"). It introduces the trio of the Angels, "Lift thine Eyes to the Mountains," sung without accompaniment,--one of the purest, loveliest, and most delightful of all vocal trios. An exquisite chorus ("He watching over Israel") follows, in which the second theme, introduced by the tenors ("Shouldst thou, walking in Grief"), is full of tender beauty; the trio and chorus are the perfection of dream-music. At its close the Angel awakes Elijah, and once more [228] we hear his pathetic complaint, "O Lord, I have labored in vain; oh, that I now might die!" In response comes an aria of celestial beauty, sung by the Angel ("Oh, rest in the Lord"), breathing the very spirit of heavenly peace and consolation,--an aria of almost matchless purity, beauty, and grace. Firmly and with a certain sort of majestic severity follows the chorus, "He that shall endure to the end." The next scene is one of the most impressive and dramatic in the oratorio. Elijah no longer prays for death; he longs for the divine presence. He hears the voice of the Angel: "Arise now, get thee without, stand on the mount before the Lord; for there His glory will appear and shine on thee. Thy face must be veiled, for He draweth near." With great and sudden strength the chorus announces: "Behold! God the Lord passed by." With equal suddenness it drops to a pianissimo, gradually worked up in a crescendo movement, and we hear the winds "rending the mountains around;" but once more in pianissimo it tells us "the Lord was not in the tempest." The earthquake and the fire pass by, each treated in a similar manner; but the Lord was not in those elements. Then, in gentle tones of ineffable sweetness, it declares, "After the fire there came a still, small voice, ... and in that still, small voice onward came the Lord;" and onward sings the chorus in low, sweet, ravishing tones to the end: "The Seraphim above Him cried one to the other, Holy, holy, holy, is God the Lord!"--a double chorus of majestic proportions. Once [229] more Elijah goes on his way, no longer dejected, but clothed with "the strength of the Lord." His aria, "For the Mountains shall depart," prepares us for the final climax. In strong accents the chorus announce, "Then did Elijah the prophet break forth like a fire;" his words were like "burning torches;" he overthrew kings; he stood on Sinai and heard the vengeance of the future on Horeb. Then comes a significant pause. The basses begin, "And when the Lord would take him away;" another brief pause, and the full chorus pictures in vivid color the coming of the fiery chariot and the whirlwind by which he was caught up into heaven. The picturesqueness and dramatic intensity of this splendid chorus can hardly be described in words. One more tenor aria ("Then, then shall the Righteous shine") and a brief soprano solo introduce the chorus, "Behold My servant." A beautiful quartet ("Oh! come, every one that thirsteth") follows, and the massive fugue, "And then shall your Light break forth as the Light of the Morning," closes this great masterpiece. [6]Mr. Lockey was the tenor on this occasion; the part of Elijah was sung by Standigl. Christus."Christus," which Mendelssohn intended as the third in the series with "Elijah" and "St. Paul," was left unfinished. The words were written by the Chevalier Bunsen and given to the composer in [230] 1844, before he began "Elijah." With his customary fastidiousness, he altered and rearranged the text, and it was not until 1847, after "Elijah" was finished, that he touched the music. At this time he was in delicate health, and had not recovered from the shock of his sister's death. He sought consolation for his troubles and relief for his ailments among the mountains of Switzerland. Part of his time was devoted to mountain-rambling, and the remainder to work upon "Christus" and the opera "Loreley," neither of which he lived to finish. It is interesting to note in this connection that before Mendelssohn settled upon "Christus," the subject of Saint Peter occupied his attention, although he still had the former in view for later consideration. In a letter to his friend Schubring, written at Bingen-on-the-Rhine, July 14, 1837, he says:--
Another extract from the same letter will show the keenness with which he analyzed his themes. He writes:--
The project was never carried out; but the deep earnestness with which Mendelssohn considered it [232] shows how thoughtfully he must have devoted himself to the scheme which took its place. Neither his letters nor his biographers throw much light upon the history of "Christus." Lampadius says: "The oratorio was laid out upon a grand scale. It was to be in three parts,--the career on earth, the descent into hell, the ascent to heaven." This plan must have been subsequently changed, for the fragments of the oratorio are included in two parts, though they entirely pertain to the earthly career. There are in all eight complete numbers,--three from the first part, and five from the second. The first part opens with a soprano recitative ("When Jesus our Lord was born in Bethlehem"), leading to a strong trio for tenor and two basses ("Say, where is he born?"), the question of the Wise Men from the East. The chorus replies, "Then shall a Star from Jacob come forth," closing with the old German chorale, "Wie schÖn leuchtet der Morgenstern" ("How brightly shines the Morning Star!"), in plain, flowing harmony. The fragments of the second part are in the form of the passion-music, and include five tenor recitatives, narrating the dialogue between Pilate, the Elders and the People, and his final order, "Take ye him and crucify him, for I cannot find a fault in him," and several short, angry choruses of the Jews, accusing Jesus and calling for his death, leading to a beautiful chorus for mixed voices ("Daughters of Zion, weep"), and closing [233] with an effective chorale for male voices in the genuine Bach style:--
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