has yet composed there is nothing he likes better than the
introductions to _The Transfiguration_ and _The Resurrection of Christ_.

The dramatic tendency of these oratorios is very marked, and it is
chiefly on that account that they have conquered Italy. In spite of some
passages which have strayed a little in the direction of opera, or even
melodrama, the music shows great depth of feeling. The figures of the
women especially are drawn with delicacy; and in the second part of
_Lazarus_, Mary's air, "Lord, if Thou hadst been here, my brother had
not died," recalls something of Gluck's _Orfeo_ in its heart-broken
sadness. And again, in the same oratorio, when Jesus gives the order to
raise the stone from the tomb, Martha's speech, "Domine, jam foetet," is
very expressive of her sadness, fear, and shame, and human horror. I
should like to quote one more passage, the most moving of all, which is
found in the _Resurrection of Christ_, when Mary Magdalene is beside the
tomb of Christ; here, in her speech with the angels, in her touching
lamentation, and in the words of the Evangelist, "And when she had thus
said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that
it was Jesus," we hear a melody filled with tenderness, and seem to see
Christ's eyes shining as they rest on Mary before she has recognised
Him.

It is not, however, Perosi's dramatic genius that strikes me in his
work; it is rather his peculiar mournfulness, which is indescribable,
his gift of pure poetry, and the richness of his flowing melody. However
deep the religious feeling in the music may be, the music itself is
often stronger still, and breaks in upon the drama that it may express
itself freely. Take, for instance, the fine symphonic passage that
follows the arrival of Jesus and His friends at Martha and Mary's house,
after the death of their brother (p. 12 _et seq._ of _Lazarus_). It is
true the orchestra expresses regrets and sighs, the excesses of sorrow
mingled with words of consolation and faith, in a sort of languishing
funeral march that is feminine and Christian in character. This,
according to the composer, is a picture he has painted of the persons in
the drama before he makes them speak. But, in spite of himself, the
result is a flood of pure music, and his soul sings its own song of joy
and sadness. Sometimes his spirit, in its naive and delicate charm,
recalls that of Mozart; but his musical visions are always dominated and