he evening of Good Friday, in the Sing Akademie of Berlin.
There was a trained chorus of about four hundred voices, with the
best orchestra in the city, besides solo singers of repute,--one, a
charming alto from Cologne. The simple and touching narrative of the
Betrayal and the Crucifixion was sung as it is written in the
twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh chapters of Matthew, certain phrases
and sentences repeated and adapted to the music, but none of it
essentially changed in form. One of the bass soloists took, with the
tenor, the soprano and the alto alternating, most of the narrative;
and another bass solo took the words of Jesus, whenever these occur in
the sad story. The _arias_ and _recitatives_ were finely given, but no
effect was comparable to that of the grand chorus. The single word
"Barabbas!" sung, or rather shouted, by these hundreds of voices in
perfect time and tune, was overwhelming. Another passage of most
thrilling effect was that in which every instrument and every voice
joined in the deafening but harmonious description of the multitude
who went out with swords and staves in the midnight, to take the
unoffending Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. And one could almost
hear in the music the sobbing of Peter when, after his denial of the
Lord, "he went out and wept bitterly." Another most touching passage
was that representing the love of the woman who anointed the feet of
Jesus. When the shout of the multitude arose in the words "Crucify
Him!" the awfulness was intense. There were times when the audience
scarcely seemed to breathe freely, so strong was the spell, so vivid
the reality of this saddest and most touching of narratives, as
interpreted by this wonderful music. Never but once have I heard the
perfection of choral music. It was one of the grand and solemn ancient
hymn-tunes which are introduced at certain stages of this composition.
I closed my eyes to the brilliance of the scene before me, that the
ear might be the sole avenue of impression. Not the slightest jar or
dissonance revealed any difference in the four hundred voices speaking
as one; there seemed but one great soul pouring forth the vast volume
of the harmony. The mighty cadences rose and fell, breaking in waves
of sound against walls and roof, and must have floated far out into
the night, now soaring in triumph, now sweet and soft and low as the
tones of an Eolian harp; but the voice of hundreds was only as the
voice of one. Three ho