before they begin to hurl the stones, Daniel steps forward and by sheer eloquent impudence persuades the people to have the case re-tried, with him for judge.  He sends one elder out of court, and asks the other under what tree Susanna committed the indiscretion.  The poor wretch, knowing no science, foolishly makes a wild shot instead of pleading a defective education, and says, “A verdant mastick, pride of all the grove.”  The other, in response to the same question, says, “Yon tall holm-tree.”  Incredible as it seems, on the strength of this error, which would merely gain a policeman the commendation of an average London magistrate, the two Elders are sent off to be hanged!  Why, even the late Mr. Justice Stephen never put away an innocent man or woman on less evidence!  But the chorus flatters Daniel just as the Press used to flatter Mr. Justice Stephen; Susanna is complimented on her chastity; and all ends with some general reflections—­

    “A virtuous wife shall soften fortune’s frown,
    She’s far more precious than a golden crown.”

Nothing is said about the market value of a virtuous husband.  Probably the eighteenth century regarded such a thing as out of the question.  As I have said, I tell this story to show what the British public will put up with if you mention the word oratorio.  Voltaire’s dictum needs revision thus:  “Whatever is too improper to be spoken (in England) is sung, and whatever is too improper to be sung on the stage may be sung in a church.”

Nevertheless, out of this wretched book Handel made a masterpiece.  The tale of Susanna is not one in which a man of his character might be expected to take a profound interest; though it should always be remembered that hardly anything is known of his relations with the other sex save that he took a keen and lifelong interest in the Foundling Hospital.  But so strong had the habit of making masterpieces become with him that he could not resist the temptation to create just one more, even when he had nothing better than “Susanna” to base it on; just as a confirmed drunkard cannot resist the temptation to get one drink more, even if he be accustomed to the gilded chambers of the West End, and must go for really the last to-night into the lowest drinking-saloon of the East.  Some of the choruses are of Handel’s best.  The first, “How long, O Lord,” shows that he could write expressive chromatic passages as well as Purcell and Bach; the second is surcharged with emotion; “Righteous Heaven” is picturesque and full of splendid vigour; “Impartial Heaven” contains some of the most gorgeous writing that even Handel achieved.  But the last two choruses, and “The Cause is decided” and “Oh, Joachim,” are common, colourless, barren; and were evidently written without delight, to maintain the pretext that the work was an oratorio.  But it stands to this day, unmistakably an opera; and it is the songs that will certainly make it popular some day; for some