to
Handel, in whose works he lived and moved and had his being, that the
heroic histories of the Jews offered no fit material for dramatic
representation. In his view the Jews never created dramatic poetry,
partly because of the Mosaic prohibition against plastic delineation of
their Deity, partly because the tragic element, which was so potent an
influence in the development of the Greek drama, was wanting in their
heroes. The theory that the Song of Songs, that canticle of canticles
of love, was a pastoral play had no lodgment in his mind; the poem
seemed less dramatic to him than the Book of Job. The former sprang
from the idyllic life of the northern tribes and reflected that life;
the latter, much more profound in conception, proved by its form that
the road to a real stage-play was insurmountably barred to the Hebrew
poet. What poetic field was open to him then? Only the hymning of a
Deity, invisible, omnipresent and omnipotent, the swelling call to
combat for the glory of God against an inimical world, and the
celebration of an ideal consisting in a peaceful, happy existence in
the Land of Promise under God's protecting care. This God presented
Himself occasionally as a militant, all-powerful warrior, but only in
moments when the fortunes of His people were critically at issue. These
moments, however, were exceptional and few; as a rule, God manifested
Himself in prophecy, through words and music. The laws were promulgated
in song; so were the prophetic promises, denunciations, and calls to
repentance; and there grew up a magnificent liturgical service in the
temple.

Hebrew poetry, epic and lyrical, was thus antagonistic to the drama.
So, also, Dr. Chrysander contends, was the Hebrew himself. Not only had
he no predilection for plastic creation, his life was not dramatic in
the sense illustrated in Greek tragedy. He lived a care-free, sensuous
existence, and either fell under righteous condemnation for his
transgressions or walked in the way prescribed of the Lord and found
rest at last in Abraham's bosom. His life was simple; so were his
strivings, his longings, his hopes. Yet when it came to the defence or
celebration of his spiritual possessions his soul was filled with such
a spirit of heroic daring, such a glow of enthusiasm, as are not to be
paralleled among another of the peoples of antiquity. He thus became a
fit subject for only one of the arts--music; in this art for only one
of its spheres, the subli