The character of the music now changes as we enter upon a long drinking-chorus, with solos by the two revellers, Hophni and Phinehas ("For everything there is a Season"). The change from the seriousness of the preceding numbers is very abrupt, and the music of the chorus is decidedly of the conventional Italian drinking-song character. Eli appears and rebukes them, and after a cantabile aria ("Thou shouldst mark Iniquities"), a short chorus of Levites, for tenors and basses, ensues, introducing a simple, but well-sustained chorale for full chorus ("How mighty is Thy Name"). At this point the "Man of God" appears, rebuking the Levites for their polluted offerings. His denunciations are declaimed in strong, spirited phrases, accompanied by the chorus of the people ("They have profaned it"), beginning in unison. The scene now changes to the camp of the Philistines, where Saph, their man of war, shouts out his angry and boisterous defiance in his solo ("Philistines, hark, the Trumpet sounding"). It is followed by a choral response from the Philistines ("Speed us on to fight"), which is in the same robust and stirring style, though the general effect is theatrical and [87] somewhat commonplace. Combined with it is a choral response by the priests of Dagon, of an Oriental character. After this clash of sound follows an air of a sombre style by Eli ("Hear my Prayer, O Lord"), the introduction and accompaniment of which are very striking. The "Man of God" once more appears, announcing the approaching death of Eli's sons to a weird, sepulchral accompaniment of the reeds and trombones, and leading up to a very effective duet between them ("Lord, cause Thy Face to shine upon Thy Servant"). Another chorale ensues ("O make a joyful Noise"), and after a brief recitative Hannah has a most exultant song, overflowing with love and gratitude at the birth of Samuel ("I will extol Thee, O Lord"). The first part closes with a brief recitative between Hannah and Eli, preluding a fugued chorus ("Hosanna in the highest"), built up on two motives and one of the most elaborate numbers in the oratorio.
The second part opens with a chaste and lovely melody, the morning prayer of the child Samuel ("Lord, from my Bed again I rise"), followed with some pretty recitative between the child and his parents, and an unaccompanied quartet, set to the same choral theme that was heard in the organ prelude to the overture. The next number is the long and showy instrumental march of the Israelites, followed by two very striking choruses,--the first ("Hold not Thy Peace and be not still, O God") of which appeals for divine help against the enemy, and the second, an allegro ("O God, make them [88] like a Wheel"), leads into a fugue ("So persecute them"), which is very energetic in character, and closes with the martial hymn, "God and King of Jacob's Nation," sung to the melody of the preceding march.
The oratorio abounds in contrasts, and here occurs another, the evening prayer of Samuel ("This Night I lift my Heart to Thee"),--a pure, quiet melody, gradually dying away as he drops asleep, and followed by an angel chorus for female voices with harp accompaniment ("No Evil shall befall thee"), the effect of which is very beautiful, especially in the decrescendo at the close. A messenger suddenly arrives, announcing the defeat of Israel by the Philistines, upon which the chorus bursts out with one of the most telling numbers, both in the voice parts and the descriptiveness of the accompaniment ("Woe unto us, we are spoiled!"). Some very dramatic recitative between Samuel and Eli follows, after which the Levites join in the chorus, "Bless ye the Lord," opening with the tenors and closing in four parts, with the call of Eli intervening ("Watchmen, what of the Night?"). A long recitative by Samuel ("The Lord said"), foreshadowing the disasters to the house of Eli; an air by Eli ("Although my House be not with God"); a funeral chorus by the Israelites ("Lament with a doleful Lamentation"); further phrases of recitative announcing more defeats of Israel, the capture of the ark, the death of Eli and his sons, and an appeal by Samuel to blow the trumpet, calling [89] a solemn assembly to implore the pity of the Lord,--prepare the way for the final chorus ("Blessed be the Lord"), closing with a fugue on the word "Hallelujah."
The oratorio was first given in this country by the Boston Handel and Haydn Society, Feb. 15, 1857, under the direction of Carl Zerrahn, with Mr. Thomas Ball as Eli and also as Saph, Mr. Wilde as the Man of God, Mr. C. R. Adams as Elkanah, Mrs. Long as Hannah, and Miss Hawley in the contralto part of Samuel. Writing of that performance, Mr. Dwight, the careful and discriminating critic, summed up the work as follows: "As a whole, 'Eli' is a noble and impressive oratorio. The composition is learned and musician-like, and generally appropriate, tasteful, dignified, often beautiful, and occasionally grand. It is by no means a work of genius, but it is a work of high musical culture, and indicates a mind imbued with the best traditions and familiar with the best masters of the art, and a masterly command of all the modern musical resources, except the 'faculty divine,'"--which, we may be permitted to say, is not included in "modern musical resources." The characterization of the oratorio, however, is thoroughly pertinent and complete. It is somewhat remarkable that a work so excellent and having so many elements of popularity should not be given more frequently in this country.
[90]
ANTON DVORÁK.
Anton Dvorák, the Bohemian composer who has risen so suddenly into prominence, was born at Mülhausen, near Prague, Sept. 8, 1841. His father combined the businesses of tavern-keeper and butcher, and young Dvorák assisted him in waiting upon customers, as well as in the slaughtering business. As the laws of Bohemia stipulate that music shall be a part of common-school education, Dvorák learned the rudiments in the village school, and also received violin instruction. At the age of thirteen he went to work for an uncle who resided in a village where the schoolmaster was a proficient musician. The latter, recognizing his ability, gave him lessons on the organ, and allowed him to copy music. Piano-lessons followed, and he had soon grounded himself quite thoroughly in counterpoint. At the age of sixteen he was admitted to the organ-school at Prague, of which Joseph Pitsch was the principal. Pitsch died shortly after, and was succeeded by Kreyci, who made Dvorák acquainted with the music of Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn. [91] The first orchestral work which he heard was Beethoven's "Ninth Symphony," during its rehearsal under Spohr's direction. In 1860, being then in his nineteenth year, he obtained an engagement, with the meagre salary of $125 a year, as violinist in a band that played at cafés and dances. Two years later he secured a position in the Bohemian Opera-House at Prague, then under the direction of Mayer, where he remained until 1871, in which year he left the theatre and devoted himself to teaching, with the prospect of earning $250 a year. These were hard days for the young musician; but while he was thus struggling for a bare subsistence he continued writing compositions, though he had no prospect of selling them or of having them played. One writer remarks on this point: "It is far from difficult to compare him in this respect with that marvellous embodiment of patience and enthusiasm, Franz Schubert; only, more fortunate than the Viennese master, the Bohemian has lived to receive his reward. Between these two men another point of resemblance appears. Neither can be charged with pushing or intriguing himself into prominence. Schubert had plenty of artistic ambition, but of personal ambition none; while the quality he so entirely lacked cannot be accredited to Dvorák, who spent the best part of his life in the enjoyment of merely local fame." About this time he wrote his "Patriotic Hymn" and the opera "König und Köhler." The latter was rejected after an orchestral trial; but he continued his work, undaunted by [92] failure. Shortly after this he received the appointment of organist at the Adelbert Church, Prague, and fortune began to smile upon him. His symphony in F was laid before the Minister of Instruction in Vienna, and upon the recommendation of Herbeck secured him a grant of $200. When Brahms replaced Herbeck on the committee which reported upon artists' stipends, he fully recognized Dvorák's ability, and not only encouraged him, but also brought him before the world by securing him a publisher and commending him to Joachim, who still further advanced his interests by securing performances of his works in Germany and England. Since that time he has risen rapidly, and is now recognized as one of the most promising of living composers. Among his works which have been produced during the past few years are the "Stabat Mater," the cantata "The Spectre Bride," three operas in the Czechist dialect, three orchestral symphonies, several Slavonic rhapsodies, overtures, violin and piano concertos, an exceedingly beautiful sextet, and numerous songs.
The Stabat Mater.
Dvorák's "Stabat Mater" was written in 1875. It was sent to the Austrian Minister of Instruction, but was not deemed worthy of the grant of $200 which the composer had expected. Its merit was subsequently recognized by Brahms and Joachim, [93] and the latter secured a hearing of it in London in 1883. It immediately made its composer famous. The Philharmonic Society invited him to London, and the work was given with great success at the Albert Hall, and later at the Worcester and Hereford festivals. It was in England indeed that his celebrity was established, and for that country all his new works are now written.
The "Stabat Mater" is written for soli, chorus, and orchestra, and comprises ten numbers. The first is the quartet and chorus, "Stabat Mater dolorosa," and carries the old Latin hymn as far as the "Quis est homo." After an orchestral introduction which gives out the principal motives on which the number is based, the vocal quartet begins. The materials of which it is composed are very simple, but they are worked up with great technical skill. The general effect is tragic rather than pathetic, as if the composer were contemplating not so much the grief of the Virgin Mother at the foot of the Cross as the awful nature of the tragedy itself and its far-reaching consequences.