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466 and of Wagner once offered by Salzburg and Munich and Bayreuth. Indeed, it was from a larger cup one quaffed in the Pennsylvanian than in the German festival towns. For here it was Bach's gorgeous-sounding music that was performed. This year two supreme examples of the eternal goodman's many masterpieces were presented. On the two successive days of the festival the St Matthew Passion and the B-minor Mass were attacked, and for all the indifference of portions of the medium, marvellously well realized. One was not generally oppressed by the divine tragedy as one was when the Oratorio Society of New York under the baton of a Damrosch proceeded through it. One was not permitted to become a little drowsy during certain movements of the stupendous vocal symphony as one was last winter when Mr Schindler and the Schola essayed it. The two sounding worlds dug deeply in. Bach was enormous over one as a firmament; for the two gigantic works, emanating from about the same years of the cantor's life, are dissimilar in feeling, and well-nigh as opposed to each other as two hemispheres. The one is situate in earth. The tender tones are saturated with the knowledge of inevitable grief and pain. Moussorgsky-like the plangent chords and melancholy flutes paint sorrow of flesh and sorrow of spirit. Heaven is far from the earth-bound soul condemned to drink its hemlock. High over it looms the gate of death; and yet, death the friend and releasing earth-burial, cannot wipe away the sadness of life. In sorrow the work begins, and even after the full major turn of the burial chorus, resolves into high, simple woe. There is no self-commiseration in the work; Bach is wrapped in the thought of the suffering of the innocent Jesus caused by man's grievous sin; he sees the crucified and the tears pour from his eyes and the moans from his mouth, and with his hands he tries to comfort the expiring body. Yet, while he strives to paint the agony of the just man, from what abysses of grief does he not draw his vocal imagery! How well he knows the horrid yell of the crowd demanding Barabbas in place of the one who has healed the sick and done good to all! How raucous the throats of mankind shouting "Crucify him!"; and above the sound-mass, how terrible the shrieking women-brutes. Through endless avenues of pain the little organist of the St Thomas Church had had to go, that he might pen this piteous score!

But if the St Matthew Passion brought forward poignantly a Bach deeply tragical in mood, the mass, its twin-born, produced a