cannot to-day be even approximately estimated. [Illustration: STATUE OF HANDEL IN PARIS OPERA HOUSE. Reproduced from a photograph made for this work by special permission. One of four life-size statues placed in the vestibule of the Opera House, at the foot of the grand marble staircase.] Exactly the same characteristic form of musical representation which is peculiar to Handel's operas constitutes, in a still greater degree, the essence of his oratorios. From an external point of view the oratorios stand higher, because they are produced with so much richer musical resources and because, in order to employ these properly, a much higher order of art is required. The chorus, which was almost wholly excluded from the operas, is here made use of in manifold ways, taking at least equal rank with the solo-song, while it often predominates. But the inner worth of the oratorio is greater, because in this we are no longer concerned with transient emotions, confined to a narrow circle of fictitious personages, who, in their totality, are indifferent to us, but with the feelings aroused by momentous events in the world's history, by the deeds and sorrows of great men and women, by legends full of the deepest symbolism, by lofty, divine decrees, extending even to the life, sufferings and resurrection of Christ, the son of God. The mighty choruses in Handel's oratorios took a powerful hold upon his contemporaries, to whom they appeared in the light of something wholly new. His Italian predecessors were more or less wanting in that sense of the sublime which caused Handel to seize upon such material as demanded the full co-operation of a large body of singers, and in this very direction was displayed most strikingly the immense superiority of his genius and his strength as an artist. The imposing array of figures which he leads before us in his choral pictures is astounding. From the simplest choral melodies, like the songs of victory in "Saul" and in "Judas Maccabaeus," to the gigantically towering, yet easily animated masses of the chorus in "Israel in Egypt," they stand forth, exuberant in strength, overpowering in the impression they produce, but at the same time simple and easily understood, as if they were created by the power of Nature herself. And in the case of these choruses again, the equipment and co-operation of the orchestra are limited, the principal task devolving here also upon the singers. With Bach the effect consists in the complete blending of organ, chorus, and orchestral tone. The hearer must be conscious neither of those who sing nor those who play; the incorporeal essence of melody floats through the spaces of the church. In listening to Handel's choruses, one rejoices in the consciousness that it is human beings who are singing. Their tones are like the voice of a victorious army, of nations blessed by God, of all sympathetic humanity. The greater the number of people united in the expression of an emotion,