And now I must turn to one of the finest of Purcell's contributions to the Services of the Church. In 1694 he wrote an elaborate _Te Deum_ and _Jubilate_ with orchestral accompaniment: this is the first of its kind by an English composer. It was written for the festival of _St Cecilia's Day_, 1694, but was not published until after the composer's death. The _Te Deum_ was performed in St Paul's at the Annual Festival Service of the Sons of the Clergy until 1713, when Handel's _Te Deum_, composed for the Peace of Utrecht, took its place. From that time for some years the {135} two rival _Te Deums_ were performed alternately. There are some points of resemblance. Handel must have heard Purcell's setting, but the version of it which, until lately, was known--and sometimes performed--was a sad corruption of the original. Boyce, with the intention no doubt of helping Purcell's _Te Deum_ to compete with Handel's, broke it up into various movements, made some alterations in the harmony, and added many dull symphonies. The original Purcell score consisted of 325 bars and Boyce added 149 more! The result was disastrous and practically killed the Purcell setting. A performance of it was given in 1829, again at the Festival of the Sons of the Clergy. A very interesting letter from M. Fétis, the great French writer, is preserved in a musical paper of June 1829, which I will quote: I must confess that my curiosity was considerable to hear the music of Purcell, whom the English proudly cite as being worthy of being placed in the same rank with the greatest composers of Germany and Italy. I was in a perfectly admiring disposition of mind when the Te Deum of this giant began; but what was my disappointment upon hearing, instead of the masterpiece which they had promised me, a long succession of insignificant phrases, ill-connected modulations and incorrect, albeit pretending harmonies. At first I imagined myself deceived, and that I ought to doubt my judgment on a style of music to which I was unaccustomed {136} but M. Felix Mendelssohn, a young and highly distinguished German composer, who stood beside me, received precisely the same impressions. Such indeed was the inconvenience felt by him that he would not prolong it, but escaped, leaving me to encounter Purcell alone during the performance of the Jubilate[3], which appeared to me no way superior.