which, in those days, forced Jews into paying toll at the gates of cities,
under the title of 'swine,' but caressed their infidel philosophers. Now,
in this category of Jew and infidel, stood the author of 'Phaedon.' He was
certainly liable to toll as a hog; but, on the other hand, he was much
admired as one who despised the Pentateuch. Now _that_ Mendelssohn,
whose learned labors lined our trunks, was the father of _this_
Mendelssohn, whose Greek music afflicts our ears. Naturally, then, it
strikes me, that as 'papa' Mendelssohn attended the synagogue to save
appearances, the filial Mendelssohn would also attend it. I likewise
attended the synagogue now and then at Liverpool, and elsewhere. We all
three have been cruising in the same latitudes; and, trusting to my own
remembrances, I should pronounce that Mendelssohn has stolen his Greek
music from the synagogue. There was, in the first chorus of the
'Antigone,' one sublime ascent (and once repeated) that rang to heaven: it
might have entered into the music of Jubal's lyre, or have glorified the
timbrel of Miriam. All the rest, tried by the deep standard of my own
feeling, that clamors for the impassioned in music, even as the daughter
of the horse-leech says, 'Give, give,' is as much without meaning as most
of the Hebrew chanting that I heard at the Liverpool synagogue. I advise
Mr. Murray, in the event of his ever reviving the 'Antigone,' to make the
chorus sing the Hundredth Psalm, rather than Mendelssohn's music; or,
which would be better still, to import from Lancashire the Handel chorus-
singers.

But then, again, whatever change in the music were made, so as to 'better
the condition' of the poor audience, something should really be done to
'better the condition' of the poor chorus. Think of these worthy men, in
their white and skyblue liveries, kept standing the whole evening; no
seats allowed, no dancing; no tobacco; nothing to console them but
Antigone's beauty; and all this in our climate, latitude fifty-five