"Audiences don't think—at least, not in England," said Bennett.
"Come, come!" interposed Mendelssohn; and turning to me with a smile he said, "Will you allow Mr. Bennett to slander your countrymen like this?"
"But Mr. Bennett doesn't mean it," I replied; "he knows that English audiences love, and are always faithful to, what stirs them deeply."
"Yes; but what does stir them deeply?" he asked; "look at the enormous popularity of senseless sentimental songs."
"On the other hand," I retorted, "look at our old affection for Handel and our new affection for Mr. Mendelssohn himself."
"Thank you," said Mendelssohn, with a smile; "Handel is certainly yours by adoption. You English love the Bible, and Handel knew well how to wed its beautiful words to noble music. He was happy in having at his command the magnificent prose of the Bible and the magnificent verses of Milton. I, too, am fascinated by the noble language of the Scriptures, and I have used it both in the vernacular and in the sounding Latin of the Vulgate. And I am haunted even now by the words of one of the Psalms which seem to call for an appropriate setting. You recall the verses?
"Hear my prayer; O God;
and hide not thyself from my petition.
Take heed unto me, and hear me,
how I mourn in my prayer and am vexed.
The enemy crieth so, and the ungodly cometh on so fast;
for they are minded to do me some mischief,
so maliciously are they set against me.
My heart is disquieted within me;
and the fear of death is fallen upon me.
Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me;
and a horrible dread hath overwhelmed me.
And I said, O that I had wings like a dove;
for then would I flee away, and be at rest.
Lo, then would I get me away far off;
and remain in the wilderness.
I would make haste to escape;
because of the stormy wind and tempest."
"Yes," said David, nodding emphatically; "they are wonderful words; you must certainly set them."
"The Bible is an inexhaustible mine of song and story for musical setting," continued Mendelssohn; "I have one of its stories in my mind now; but only one man, a greater even than Handel, was worthy to touch the supreme tragedy of all."
The last words were murmured as if to himself rather than to us, and he accompanied them abstractedly with tentative, prelusive chords, which gradually grew into the most strangely moving music I have ever heard.