THE MUSICAL MAGAZINE.

NO. LXVII.

BOSTON, SATURDAY, JULY 31, 1841.

HANDEL'S MESSIAH.

[TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF FR. ROCHLITZ.]

[The approaching Centennial of the birth of Handel's Song of Man's Redemption induces us to translate the following analysis of this glorious work. We hope that it may induce some of our readers to listen to the work itself, when the Handel and Haydn Society will perform it on the 21st of next month, with new and increased interest.]-Ed.

GEORGE FREDERIC HANDEL. In his seventh year of life he was a distinguished organ player; in his tenth year he appeared in public with compositions for the church, in his fifteenth with operas, being made musical director of the Opera in Hamburg; in his nineteenth year he won the admiration of all Italy; in his twenty-fifth he was made chapel-master to the Elector of Hanover, afterwards king of England, George I., and henceforth to his death, in his seventy-fifth year of age (1759), and from that to this day, he reigned a prince of music, with monarchic sway in Great Britain, jointly with his peers in Germany. Of him, his greatest cotemporary, JOHN SEBASTIAN BACH, said he is the only one whom I should like to see, before I die, and who I should like to be, if I were not Bach ;-of him his greatest successor, WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART said, when he heard the above exclamation of Bach: Truly so would I say, if I could

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speak of myself by the side of these men. George Frederic Handel stands in the whole history of music separate in all respects from all before or after him, an apparition singularly heroic, nay, colossal (even his body was so) in its kind; at the same time of such an influence by his works on all nations, that do not wilfully remain ignorent of the most noble and grand in this art, that every one, who reflects on the music of past times, must necessarily often turn his thoughts upon him, and that it must be to every writer on music almost easier to speak of him than to be silent about him.

We follow this natural inclination, and not now for the first time. We do not now enter upon Handel's interesting, rich and much agitated life; that has been done by others, it has been done with spirit and good knowledge;* we do not attempt either a critical sketch of his mind, his art, or of his works generally; that also has been done by others with thorough judgment and praiseworthy care; we take up a single one of his works for the purpose of fully considering it; but it is one, which, created in the fulness of the vigor of manhood (1739 and 1740), was the most cherished by the author up to his death; it became afterwards the most celebrated work, exerting the greatest influence up to this day—and it is in its whole plan the most characteristic, and stands without exception among the most excellent of all the works that ever emanated from this powerful mind. We will consider the MESSIAH.

Handel was, notwithstanding his very violent temper, a pious christian; he was in faith, as in every thing else, earnest, firm, and zealous. He showed this frankly and freely, even at court. He kept for his whole lifetime strictly to his own church; yet not at all entering upon their doctrinal polemics at the time, or troubling his mind about the views and representations of individuals in and out of that church, he looked for instruction and conviction, for rule and direction, for strength and comfort, solely to the holy scriptures. These he therefore read diligently, since his years of full manhood

* It has been done most faithfully and instructively by Hiller, (Biographies of celebrated musical men, etc.) and by Burney (Account of Handel's life and of the celebration to his memory, etc.) Yet in reading these works we must take into consideration that Hiller had devoted himself to a very different kind of music, and that Burney could never entirely forget that Handel was a German and not an Englishman.

+ Especially by the two men just mentioned in the works above referred to, as well as in others.

daily, and thus he became intimately acquainted with them. His mind, his whole nature living and being in the art, was most attracted by the prophets and by the more difficult writings of St. Paul; and it entered, especially in his later years, deeply into the doctrine of the redemption-not merely confining it to the sufferings and death of our Saviour—but meditating upon it in its entire, immense bearing and importance. To glorify this truth before his fellow men, by his art, as far as possible; to bring it as near to their hearts as it was to his own; that was one of his favorite ideas and a wish which he cherished for a good while. And when he had found the first starting point, he went eagerly to work and rejected every thing else, until it was finished. This starting point was not the word of man, however beautiful or eloquent, must be my text, but alone the word of God, without adding to or detracting from it, simple and grand, as we find it in the holy scriptures; and even in these words-the historical facts must be merely alluded to; all must be offered to the thinking mind, to an elevated imagination, to concentrated feelings, in short vigorous sentences for their own further conception and activity; it must be a Cantata of the whole race of redeemed men, in praise of their redemption.

He had communicated his intention to some friends, and from them one of the English Bishops learnt it, and sent word to him, that he might wait a little while; he, the Bishop himself, wished to write the poem for him. But Handel replied in noble anger: How? does he think he can give me a better text than prophets and apostles, full of the holy spirit? or does he think, that I do not esteem the bible as highly or know it as well as he does? Handel alone had conceived the plan, he alone executed it; he asked nobody to chose the sacred words for him. And how grand, how beautiful was his choice! What theologian, what bible friend, be he ever so thorough or enthusiastic, could have chosen better?

The work was finished; he performed it. After the first excitement, and satisfied curiosity, it found but little favor. It is too serious and too difficult, the public said; he did not care, and repeated his Messiah; he lost his property by the empty concerts; he did not care, but repeated his Messiah.* At last the spirit and the excel

* The well known lord Chesterfield one day returned from one of these repetitions. He met a friend. Is the concert already over? asked the friend. Oh no! was the answer. I had only to present myself before the king, further I

lence of the work prevailed; the best judges spoke loudly in favor of it; many of the people assented, and they began already to consider it a national work; however, the noble author had in the mean time grown old and blind; he laid down and was gathered to his fathers.*

In Germany the work was known for a long while only to a few connoiseurs. Only the reports in public papers of its brilliant, highly successful performances by the great associations on occasion of the festival in commemoration of Handel in London, directed general attention to it, and father Hiller was the first to meet it. The effect of its being transferred to the German soil was every where, where it enjoyed only a tolerable execution, decidedly great; and such it is still and always will be. Yet the great public in Germany has not yet received it as an independent, classic, and therefore always again and again demanded national work-such as Mozart's Don Juan and his Requiem, Haydn's Creation, and some others. The cause is, if I do not mistake mainly, this, that the public has not entered into its whole as a unity-in its idea, in its sharply defined plan, and in its characteristic style and form, originating in this idea. We listen to the work and praise it generally more for some of its most powerful and brilliant pieces, such as: "For unto us a child

did not want to encroach upon his solitude. A friend, pitying him, said: "your best work will make you poor!" See, he replied, that is my comfort that it is my best work.

* This is the common course of the world; and it can hardly be otherwise. How were it possible that a work of the mind, new from its very foundation, created from the depth of the author's own peculiar character, constructed upon a mountain top hitherto unexplored, should be at once justly esteemed by every one, even though it did not suffer from any extraneous obstacles? The gap between the author and the public is still too great; the latter must first be elevated and cultivated to the standard of the author. That requires time and opportunity. That work, which is to be at once fully appreciated by every one, must strike just those conceptions and feelings, which lay hidden in every body, however unclear and undefined they may naturally be; it must well define them and represent them clearly, and if so it may be, beautifully too; the work must, therefore, stand above the public, but not much. In matters of art every one thinks he has the right to give his judgment (in general this is not wrong); but among a hundred, who judge, there is hardly one who thinks, if the work does not please him, that the fault might be his own.. (Lichtenberg makes the same observation thus: when a book and a head come in contact, giving a hollow sound, it does not always originate in the book). This puts particular obstacles in the way of a new work; that is for some time. But man lives, to be

sure, only for some time! that is, on this earth, in his body.

is born"-"Halleluja, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth,""Worthy is the lamb, that was slain ;" and these we hear, therefore, often alone, separate from the rest. But in this way just the most essential, the highest quality of the work, is not realized; its main object is not obtained, and its master is deprived of his less shining, yet the more imperishable wreath of laurels. Nay even these pieces themselves lose part of their great effect by being broken out of their place and connection.

Who, knowing and appreciating the work, would not like to contribute according to his powers to its full understanding? Let me then try to do this, by analyzing the work in all its parts, with constant reference however to it as a whole, and to its before mentioned fundamental idea. I hope you will willingly follow me, for I lead you to something truly great and beautiful; and whatever in my words, short and roughly sketched as they are, (for if I would fully exhaust the theme, it would be too much for you,) may appear cold and lifeless to you, that will gain new life and warmth, when you hear the work again with my words in your heart and mind.

The Overture of the Messiah begins with a sombre, flat, very monotonous largo, in which the whole human race groans and sighs under its burthen, under which it succumbs; in the fugue attached to it, however, it once more gathers its strength, though forcedly, violently to fight one against the other, and each one against himself. Theme-setting in of the principal parts, especially the bass parts, the whole management—all are driving, and pressing and laboring without any other result than that in the end all again sink monotonously down together.* Help-there must be help and comfort; but it cannot come by man himself. A soft, very simple, tranquillizing, truly refreshing melody (in E major, the overture was in E minor) begins, and a voice sings gently and cheerfully: "Comfort ye my people, says your God! speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem"-and when this heavenly comfort has opened our heart, the voice speaks louder and shorter: "The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness,

* Considered as a mere piece of music this overture is the most unimportant one of all that Handel ever wrote. How difficult must it have come to him, to write just so in just this work! How clear and manly does he prove himself by thus sacrificing his own self to his higher object! That in later arrangements it has been tried to give greater effect to this overture by a richer instrumentation is evidently mistaking this higher object, and a great error.