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 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