fyxmll Wlmvmxty |f itag BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME PROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF Wciiry W. Sage 1S91 A>A15A^5 ashflfo. 5931 arV 14458 The art of renderin Cornell University Library 3 1924 031 386 802 olin.anx Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031386802 MECHANICAL PERJOD, C Mechanical Stage..) THE ART OF RENDERING A condensed and comprehensive treatise on the culture of the Three-fold Nature and the Mental Method of Reading and Speaking To be used in connection with FENNO 'S SCIENCE OF SPEECH Comprising Chart of Delsartean Trinities, Aesthetic Physical Culture, Physiology and Culture of Breath and Voice, Gesture, Sixteen Steps in Rendering with Analyses and Classi- cal Studies for Practice, Charts and Illustrations. Designed to be used as a text-book in the class-room, and for private study as well as by readers and speakers generally By FRANK H. FENNO, A. M., F. S. Sc. Teacher, Lecturer, and Author of ' Fenno's Elocution," "Lectures on Elocution", etc., Compiler of "Fenno's Favorites Revised and Enlarged by MRS. FRANK H. FENNO, B. O. CHICAGO EMERSON W. FENNO, Pubusheb 1912 Copyright 1912 By Mbs. Frank H. Fenno. DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF T£mma Tfon^wcll Teittto WHOSE PURE, BEAUTIFUL SPIRIT OF DEVOTION AND WONDERFUL MOTHER-LOVE HAS MADE THIS AND OTHER WORKS POSSIBLE THE GOODNESS OP HER QUIET LIFE SHINES OUT WITH EVER-INCKEASING SPLENDOK PREFACE. An outline of study is presented in the triangular chart following. All culture whether of body, mind or voice, is a growth from the crude to the refined, and all drill must necessarily be in the order : 1. Mechanical ; 2. Natural ; 3. Artistic. Thus, all culture is based upon the Mechan- ical, passes through the Natural, and is completed in the Artistic. This law applied to the rendering of thought gives : — 1. Mechanical ; 2. Intelligent ; 3. Emotional. The basis of speech is Conversation, its higher form is Reading, and its highest form is Oratory. So culture in speech is based on Conversation, continues through Reading, and culminates in Oratory. The character of all human expression is determined by the individuality of the speaker. The center of the indi- viduality is the mind. Psychologically considered, the mind has three sides — the Will, the Intellect, and the Feelings : — the Will corresponding with the Body, Physical or Vital nature ; the Intellect with the Mind, Intellectual or Mental nature ; the Feelings with the Soul, Moral or Emotive nature. So the Audible ( tones ) and Visible ( gestures ) are either Vital, Mental or Emotive, according to which side of the mind prompts the action. Illustrations: Vital, the swagger and bluster of a bully ; Mental, the care- ful utterance and gestures of a thinker ; Emotive, the im- passioned manner of the exhorter. Our practical drill in Rendering trains successively the three sides of the mind. Beginning with the Will, we have our first group of exercises consisting of the three points Animation, Naturalness, and Directness of voice, correspond- vi PREFACE ing with Energy, Simplicity, and Precision of manner. The aim in this Mechanical period is Naturalness and Simplicity, which, when attained, carry the pupil into the second, the Natural Period. In the second period we work for the three points, Cora- pass, Agreeableness, and Flexibility of voice, and Radia- tion, Grace, and Variety of gesture ; the aim being those avtistic qualities; Agreeableness and Grace. This aim being attained the student finds himself in the third, the Artistic Period. Here we work for Propriety, Freedom, and Magnificence of gesture, to cultivate Imagi- nation secure Responsiveness of voice and body to mind, and add Brilliancy — that final polish and artist's touch — since " God himself signifies that his creation is complete by throwing over it the garb of beauty. " TO THE STUDENT. The student should approach this complex and many sided study — this fine art — as an architect who sets before himself the task of constructing some great work even a grand cathedral which shall endure through ages to bless and to ennoble the souls of men because of its beauty and its usefulness. The architect first must have within him. self his well-defined ideal, for his work cannot excel that, though as he works his ideal is constantly changing and ever beholding more complicated and loftier visions to be wrought out He begins to gather about himself material for the work, much that is crude and commonplace and some that is rare and precious. He must chisel, refine and polish, toiling on long and faithfully, ever with positive hope, that he may bring out the ideals hidden in his soul. Out of a dream he constructs a real temple with walls and roof and buttresses, pinnacles, high-pointed arches of windows PREFACE vii deeply recessed entrance way ; within, the vaulted arches, the delicately fluted columns, the niches, carved panels, rose windows and delicate tracery work ; a place worthy to echo back the grandest music of the masters, and the no- blest and best thoughts and feelings of the world. Or let the student begin his task as an organ builder. He gathers about him his material, shapes each part into suit- able form, giving careful attention to measurements to suit the laws of sound. He is careful that all parts of his instru- ment are so nicely adjusted, with parts, each responsive to the other, that when finished, with each part in place, all parts are forgotten when it discourses wonderful harmony as it responds to the skillful touch. In this commercial age, to many this will seem visionary and impracticable ; but " he that hath ears to hear, let him hear. " Let him first have noble ideals for noble pur- poses then " undertake great things and expect great things. •* The student of expression, like the student of music, painting, sculpture, or any other art, should take the needed time for development. < The student should go about his work with energy, with a willingness to work hard. Do not think because you are attracted to the study that you possess " talent. " The pianist or the artist along any other line will tell you that talent is largely the result of hard work. Genius is the re- sult of an endurance and persistence in hard work. These mystic keys hold the treasure. In this study as in no other science or art " a tittle learning is a dangerous thing. " Let us consider briefly the material needed by the student who would be the organ builder and the master musician, the artist and the work of art ( Material in large charts. ) Think of self to be used in this work not only as one but as three; three beings combined in one,— the Physical being, the Mental being, the Spiritual being. In the early viii PREFACE part of the study, separate the three and think of them as distinct and wide apart; later in the study all may be con- sidered as a unit, acting together. The Vital or Physical side of life needs no definition as it is visible and easiest to know and think about. The Mental, with its wonderful faculties of Reason and Memory and Imagination, lives within the body. We can think of the seat of all this power as located in the brain. We often judge of the mental faculties themselves by the shape of the head. We think of the brain and its faculties as something. The Spiritual life dwelling within the Physical body should be thought of as something. It cannot be weighed, measured, and examined as is the brain with its gray matter. No dissecting knife has ever yet found a trace of its presence. It cannot be seen with the X ray. It ever eludes the keen- est search. Though it is so mystic and fleeting, its influence is more real to us than anything else we know about. How- ever mysterious all this may be and whatever may be our belief, let us, to gain the most helpful attitude toward the study in hand — which must be largely of things intangible and subjective — let us learn to think of this spiritual or emotive nature as something. Think of it as a perfect correspondence to the physical body, dwelling within it and fitted to it as though the body were its garment. Think too of this spiritual body as being so delicate and impression- able that the slightest wish of a friend will cause it to vi- brate, as will all feelings, hopes, fears, aspirations. Because of the fact it is so easily moved it is called the Emotive na- ture. This Emotive or Spiritual has its faculties no less than the brain. Physical body has its complicated Vital Organs, Nerves, Muscles, Blood and Breath. Mental has its Perception, Memory, Imagination, Reason, PREFACE ix Generalization. Emotive has its Affectional, Passional, Mystical, Spiritual, Ethical. In this is included a wide range of feelings of which faith, hope, love and their opposites are greatest. Sentiments and ignoble passions belong to the Emotive. All three sides are capable of wonderful culture and de- velopment. The principles and studies in " The Art of Rendering" in connection with " The Science of Speech, " which is an indispensable part of the study — though for convenience is published in a separate volume — give a true Mental Method which allows the child and the sage to study side by side, each working from his own standpoint, the progress of both being equally rapid because of a similar process going on in each — that of a natural, psychological growth. Says Beecher. — " To make men patriots, to make men Christians, to make men the sons of God, let all the doors of heaven be opened, and let God drop down charmed gifts : winged imaginations, all-perceiving reason, andall-adjudg. ing reason. Whatever there is that can make men wiser and better, let it descend upon the head of him who has consecrated himself to the work of mankind, and who has made himself an orator for man's sake and for God's sake. " Mrs. Frank H. Fenno. Chicago, III., March 19th, 1912. CONTENTS Page Formula of Analysis of any Art 1 The Fine Arts 2 The Beautiful 3 The True 4 The Good 5 The Artist 5 Art and Artists 6 Finding the Unity 8 Physical Culture 13 Physical Exercises 24 The Breath of Life 37 Breath Organs 38 Expressions of the Breath 42 Breathing Exercises 43 The Voice 48 First Steps in Voice Culture 49 Organs of Voice . . . . s 50 Vibratory Agents of the Voice 53 Voice Exercises . 54 Order of Daily Voice Drill 58 Gesture 62 Law of Motion 65 Law of Velocity 67 Law of Direction 68 Law of Reaction 69 Law of Form 70 Law of Opposition 71 Law of Sequence 71 Number of Gestures 72 Law of Force 72 Rhythm 72 Direction of Gesture 73 Finesse of Gesture 74 xi xii CONTENTS Page Bearings, Attitudes, Inflections 75 Dual Form of the Study of Expression ... 76 Mental Training 78 Training of the Five Senses 78 Training of the Emotive 80 SIXTEEN STEPS IN RENDERING Animation 83 The Cheerful Locksmith . . Charles Dickens 84 Nebuchadnezzar's Dream . . Daniel II 85 A Rill from the Town-Pump .... . Nathaniel Hawthorne 90 Law ...... Stevens 91 Appledore . . . James Russell Lowell 94 Gratiano .... Shakespeare 96 Conversational Style 97 The Bachelor's Dream . . Thomas Hood 101 Aunt Nancy's Account of a Fashionable Parlor Recital . . . Mary M. Boynton 104 TildySaid .... Booth Lowrey 108 Man Was Saying . . . Victor Hugo 110 The Katydid in Opera . Robert J. Burdette 111 The Gardener . Bishop James A. Quayle 113 Narrative Style 117 Riding on a Crocodile . Charles Waterton 118 Adventures with a Python Charles Waterton 119 A "Sassy" Corpse . . Rev. H. 0. Rowlands 120 Wee Davie . . . Norman Macleod 122 Elizabeth . . . Henry W. Longfellow 126 Descriptive Style 130 Washington .... . Everett 133 John Burns of Gettysburg . Brete Harte 134 John Hancock . . Theodore Parker 134 Evangeline . . Henry W. Longfellow 135 Mary Lew. Wallace 136 CONTENTS xm Priscilla Romola Seneca Lake . The Snow Angel Kaatskill on the Hudson El Capitan Morning Night . The Oak An Idyl The Primrose of the Rock The Violet . The Dandelion Flowers The Butterfly Lichens and Mosses Lake Otsego . The Lovely Shell . On the St. Lawrence River Night . A Cottage The Fire-fly . A Water-fowl The Hawk _ . The Green Linnet . The Ship _ . The Spinning Wheel Rainbow Falls, Watkins Glen Henry W. Longfellow George Eliot James G. Percival Wallace Bruce Washington Irving Bayard Taylor Edward Everett 0. M. Mitchell Southey . C. G. Buck Wordsworth Scott Lowell Wordsworth Wordsworth John Ruskin Cooper . Tennyson Moore Wordsworth Moore Moore Wordsworth Wordsworth Wordsworth Southey Wordsworth Forming Pictures King Robert of Sicily Words Like Arrows A Day in the Mountains Lake Grasmere Henry W. Longfellow The Sphere Rev. David W. Ferry Wordsworth Vital, Animated Pictures and Scenes The Shipwreck . . . Charles Dickens Eruption of Mount Vesuvius Sir Bulwer Lytton The Burning of Moscow . . J.T. Headley Vision of the Heavenly Jerusalem . St. John Page 137 138 140 L41 L42 143 L44 145 145 L46 147 L47 148 148 149 149 151 151 152 153 154 154 155 155 156 157 158 159 160 165 171 177, 180 181 181 185 187 xiv CONTENTS Page Ideal Pictures 190 The Sea Fairies .... Tennyson 190 Paradise and the Peri . . Thomas Moore 192 To a Skylark .... Shelley 195 Slides of the Voice 200 Hamlet's Instruction to the Players . Shakespeare 201 Portia's Plea for Mercy . . Shakespeare 202 Polonius' Advice to Laertes . Shakespeare 203 Thanatopsis . . William Cullen Bryant 204 Vital Slide 207 Wolsey to Cromwell . . Shakespeare 207 Prince Arthur . . . Shakespeare 208 Rip Van Winkle in the Mountains . Joseph Jefferson 213 Slide in Volume 216 Landing of Columbus . . . Rogers 217 The American Flag . Joseph Rodman Drake 218 Battle Hymn of the Republic Julia Ward Howe 220 Erin's Flag .... Father Ryan 221 A Processional Hymn Psalm XXIV 223 Pause 224 A Child's Dream of a Star . Charles Dickens 226 Ode to the Passions . . William Collins 230 A Dagger of the Mind . Shakespeare 233 Relation op Values 234 Look Aloft .... J. Lawrence 239 Self-Dependence . . . Matthew Arnold 240 Pure Cold Water . . . John B. Gough 241 Civic Rights for the Jews . . Macaulay 242 Volume of Voice 245 The Ocean .... Lord Byron 249 Brutus in the Orchard . . Shakespeare 250 CONTENTS' xv Voices of the Sea . Rev . John A. Earl, D. D, Christian Education Rev. H. 0. Rowlands, D. D. God ..... . Derzhavin Patmos . . . Dr. John L. Campbell Peace on Earth . Rev. Sam'l J. Skevington Lyric Page 252 254 255 258 260 264 Nightfall . W. W. Ellsworth 266 Longing for Home . . . Jean Ingelow 267 Song of the Mystic . . Father Ryan 269 The Chambered Nautilus . 0. W. Holmes 272 A Cry from the Wilderness Psalms LXIII 273 The Lost Chord . Adelaide A. Procter 274 Morte D'Arthur . Tennyson 275 The Day is Done . Henry W. Longfellow 276 Allah .... Henry W. Longfellow 277 Song of Love and Death . Tennyson 278 Crossing the Bar . Tennyson 278 Abide with Me Lyte 279 Lead Kindly Light . Cardinal Newman 279 Still, Still with Thee . Harriet Beecher Stowe 280 Soliloquy 281 Hamlet's Soliloquy . . Shakespeare 281 King of Denmark. Remorse . Shakespeare 282 What My Lover Said . . Homer Greene 284 Alone .... Robert J. Burdette 285 Monologue 287 Queen Vashti's Lament . . John Reade 287 A Tale ..... Robert Browning 289 The Wages of Sin . . . Booth Lowrey 293 Subjective Poems It is Not Too Late . . Booth Lowrey 298 You Came . Elizabeth Purser 299 Soul Sympathy Harriet Mabry 299 Sunlight and Shadow Bertrand H. Riggs 300 Youth Memories . Alba Honywell 301 GENERAL ANALYSIS 1 FORMULA OF ANALYSIS FOR ANY ART. I. Place in the arts. 1. Architecture. 2. Sculpture. 3. Literature. 4. Painting. 5. Oratory. 6. Music. II. Purpose. 1. The author himself. 2. Character of the work. 3. a. To entertain, b. To instruct. c To ennoble. III. Treatment. 1. Unity. — The whole. 2. Analysis. — The parts. 3. Symmetry. — Relation of part to whole. 4. Harmony. — Relation of part to part. rV. Essentials. 1. Strong in conception. 2. Interesting in subject. 3. True in details. 4. Good in influence. V. Periods. 1. Colossal. 2. Effective. 3. Realistic. 4. Suggestive. VI. Ultimate Aim. Beauty, Goodness, Truth. 2 THE ART OF RENDERING THE FINE ARTS. As Expression is a fine art, let us consider a few simple definitions of the word Art. Much of a complex and be- wildering character has been written by its devotees, but with such technical terms as leave the uninitiated to wonder and admire. Delsarte has so simplified matters for us as to enable the earnest student of expression to understand and appreciate some of its profound secrets. Even the great art students of our times acknowledge that along certain lines the Delsarte Philosophy has thrown more light on all the arts than in such clearness and simplicity was never known before. We may profit by some of his definitions. " Art is that which aims to touch the heart by the Good the Beautiful and the True. Beauty purifies the sense. Truth illumines the mind. Virtue ( goodness ) sanctifies the soul. Art should interest by the True to illumire the intelli- gence, move by the Beautiful to regenerate the life, per- suade by the Good to perfect the heart Art is not an imitation of nature. Art is better than nature, it is nature illuminated. " Says Charles Dudley Warner : " Art is not nature, it is a suggestion, impregnated with the artist's personality. " Says Walter Crane : " Art is the most subtle and ex- pressive of language, taking all manner of varied forms in all sorts of materials under the paramount impulse of the selective search for beauty. " " Art remains the one way possible of teaching truth. " Browning. " Art is the telescope of a supernatural world. " " The powers of art are the wings of the soul. " THE BEAUTIFUL 3 "The artist — those whose calling is to point to the beautiful, the elevated, the refined, and by so doing to heighten the existence of mankind. " Alaraa Tadema. " Art is the manifestation of emotion, obtaining external interpretation, now by expressive arrangement of line, form or color, now by a series of gestures, sounds or words, gov- erned by particular rhythmical cadence. " Veron. "Poetry, to speak generally, is the faculty of feeling in- ternally the essence of life, and art is the faculty of express- ing the same thing in external form. Artists, literateurs, painters, sculptors, musicians, really invent only the form to be taken by the poetic sentiment breathed into them by nature or by life. " Thore. " Art a search after the best. " " Artists aim : to represent the invisible in the visible , the Infinite in the finite, eternal truth in its priority by rendering it manifest in a sensible form and shape. " THE BEAUTIFUL. " Beautiful purifies the emotions. " " Beauty — and what is beauty? A blind man's question. " Aristotle. " Beauty — the flower of virtue. " Zeno. " Beauty, the result of the good and useful. " Socrates. " My eyes turn toward the beautiful, Autolicus, as to a torch burning at midnight. " Socrates. Beauty is not prettiness, but the outward sign of Good, " He alone is beautiful whose mental corresponds with his physical perfections. " Plato. " Beauty reigns supreme in art, nature, mankind and love. " 4 THE ART OF RENDERING " Beauty is the splendor of truth. Says Delsarte : " Beauty is the reason that presides at the creation of things; it is the invisible power that draws us and subjugates us in them. The beautiful comprises three characters, which we dis- tinguish under the following titles : ideal moral, plastic beauty. " THE TRUE. " The True illumines the thought. Truth is the gravita- tion principle of the universe by which it is supported, and in which it coheres. " William M. Evarts. " Truth is the planet that seeks the sun, yet grasps the soil. " Robert Barclay Fox. " Truth is everlasting, but our ideas of it are not. '' Beecher. " To restore the commonplace truth to its first uncommon lustre, you need only to translate it into action. " Coleridge. " The greatest homage we can pay to truth is to use it. " Emerson. " There is nothing so strong or safe in any emergency of life, as the simple truth. " Charles Dickens. " Truth is the apostle before whom every coward Felix trembles. " Wendell Phillips. "There are some faults slight in the sight of lore, some errors slight in the estimate of wisdom; but Truth forgives no insult and endures no stain. " Ruskin. " He who makes truth disagreeable, commits high trea- son against virtue. " Woodruff. " What is eloquence but truth in earnest." T.L.Cuyler. " Truth is the concept of the Spirit in regard to the real- ity of things, and the laws which govern them. " Rayner. THE GOOD 5 " Moral beauty is the brilliancy of the good. " Says Delsarte: B The good is that which sanctifies the soul." The good seems to be that which can give to the greatest number of beings existing in the universe the greatest sum of happiness and perfection. We never tire of the good; it is a continual feast because we are lifted up and ennobl- ed by it, while that form of art that simply entertains soon becomes stale and unprofitable. The good is the power that lifts the race into an ever widening and higher sphere. The artist who has the power to awaken within us the Divine aspiration for Good becomes our hero. ° He is the living light-fountain, which it is good and pleasant to be near. The light which enlightens : which has enlightened the darkness of the world; and this not as kindled by a lamp only, but rather as a natural luminary shining by the gift of heaven ; a flowing life fountain, as I say, of original insight, of manhood and heroic nobleness; in whose radi- ance all souls feel that it is well with them. " THE ARTIST. Beauty chased he everywhere, In flame, in storm, in clouds of air. He smote the lake to feast his eye With the beryl beam of the broken wave ; He flung in pebbles, well to hear The moment's music which they gave. Oft pealed for him a lofty tone, From nodding pole and belting zone. He heard a voice none else could hear From centered and from errant sphere. The quaking earth did quake in rhyme, Seas ebbed and flowed in epic chime. Bmmtm. 6 THE ART OF RENDERING Art and the Artist may here receive but a passing glance for these subjects are profound as is Philosophy and Relig- ion. " The artist, no less than the preacher, is a proclaim- er of the glory of God ; no less than the philosopher, an expounder of the Absolute Idea. " The aim here is only to drop a few seed thoughts, hoping they may fall into pro- ductive soil and set each student thinking for himself, that he may learn to use in an effective and artistic manner the material lying in abundance at hand ready for use.; Cicero tells us that " all arts that pertain to culture have a certain common bond. " Because of this the student may secure material aid by carefully studying principles in all the arts, especially paintings and artistic pictures. The Reader or Public Speaker should be an artist along several lines. He has far more to do than the artist with the brush if his impressions abide, for the expression the Reader gives is instantaneous, almost like writing in the water, or carving in the air, therefore, what he gives must be enforced with the ability to project mental pictures into the minds of his listeners. This cannot be done with mere words. He must have before he can give and can give only such as he has. The Reader has more to do than he who acts a part in a play, for the reader must paint the scenery, portray the characters and suggest all action. It would be impossible to do all this without a knowledge of the principles of art- In the Drama the same principles are used as the Paint- er uses in the arrangement of his characters on the canvas. He uses superior and inferior — colors contrasts, — all is arranged with the most careful, studied effects that the cen- tral thought be placed in the best possible light. In a Drama presented by a master we have living pictures with such perfect harmony of action and color and setting, should a painting be. produced of a scene at any point, it would THE ARTIST 7 present all the essentials of a high class work of art The reader must do that which will awaken all this, and more, if his impressions are lasting. Because of a lack of carefully prepared and definite; artistic, mental background, we are obliged to listen to much that is utterly forgotten and lost, almost before the speaker has finished. If sermons, lectures and other forms of pub- lic speaking were something beside words, words, words ; if the words had some force back of them to send them home and make them stay, the Stage and Dramatic Reader's platform could not be more fascinating than the Pulpit. The speakers of the pulpit possess, as a class, the greatest intellectual and emotive wealth and have, by far, the broad- est and most fertile subjects from which to draw material. It does pay to see to it that what we give is so strong and alive with every possible advantage back of it that it may be received and accomplish that whereunto it was sent. This is the end that crowns all. There can be no giving without receiving. Attemptir g to give that which fails to be received is a monstrous waste of energy, even though it is practiced so largely and by wise and learned men. It pays to study expression with a pencil, carefully out- lining all details; then to throw mentally a bold sketch on a great canvas and lay upon it the suitable colors to make it a living, breathing reality, pulsating with a life so genuine that the listener may comprehend and participate in it; that he may gain an actual experience which will not easily be blurred and lost. It pays to so identify yourself with the scene and situa- tion as to be a part of it, presenting, beside the scene, the spirit and feeling it awakens, manifesting it earnestly, heart- ily and with fervor. It does not pay to undertake anything that is not worth doing well, or anything you cannot enter into with all your heart and art. 8 THE ART OF RENDERING Too much can hardly be said of the importance of going thoroughly over the matter to be presented, making a clear analysis of all scenery, characters and feeling hidden under the lines. When this is once properly done, we have a key to gesture, voice, inflection and the elements of modulation. In this analysis may be found a way to avoid a common fault — unnatural expression. Analysis is often the most difficult part of the study. While some selections require careful study to bring out the subtle meaning, others are simple and easily disposed of. FINDING THE UNITY. Following are some homely illustrations so simplified as to assist the youngest to gain a clear and certain under- standing of what we mean by Unity, for this is the starting point. By Unity of a studywe mean the Central Idea. It may be some object, a person, an emotion, a passion or some sub- jective feeling. A whole poem may have been written to bring out one sentence, or one idea. As a selection of the Unity is the center of the study, and all harmony of arrangement of subordinate ideas depends upon it, let us use the simplest illustration possible to ex- plain our meaning of this first step of analysis. Here is a large pink rose we wish to place in a bouquet where it will be brought out to. the best advantage. This rose is our unity. We easily decide that it should occupy the central position in our bouquet. Now follows that which is moie difficult, for we have much liberty in our selection of something to place with this rose to bring it out best. Surely it will never do to place it surrounded by other roses or even with lilies, for such rival beauties will obscure the favorite. We must select something inferior to be the FINDING THE UNITY 9 background. We find too beside this contrast of superior with inferior, as to position, contrasts in color must next be thought about. The complimentary color of our pink rose is its own natural green leaves. There could be no mistake in using this background. Should we use flowers instead of leaves some inferior in size, white or cream may be used. A few pink rose buds may also be used as they will not assert themselves but lend themselves to the unity, the rose. By position, by contrasting superior with inferior, by con- trast in color we have brought out our rose. The artist, may find much more than this to do, but let this simple analysis open the way for more complex work in the read- ings. Let us next study a Selection with a single Character instead of a flower for our unity. " The Cheerful Lock- smith " by Charles Dickens affords a simple, yet a useful study. Find the above study in " Studies in ^Rendering, '' under " Animation. " In this study we readily select the cheerful Locksmith himself as the central subject for our attention. The study divides into two scenes, ( though it might be given in one, depending on the view point. ) Scene I. is on the street, with) workshop in sight Scene II. is inside the workshop. We ourselves must be only an on- looker in both scenes. In the street we listen to the Lock- smith ; in the shop we see him. Picture the whole scene vividly, the locksmith and the interior of the shop. Bring out all the details, as the window, " the locks that hung around, " the cat ; see however that nothing eclipses the Locksmith himself. Take advantage of " a gleam of sun shining through the unsashed window and checkering the dark workshop with a broad patch of light, fell full upon him as though attracted by his sunny heart. " and make use of this high light and get the full artistic value. Contrast the Locksmith's music with all the discordant 10 THE ART OF RENDERING sounds, as the carts rumbling by, scolding, prison-door and jolting wagon, etc. Use all negative ideas as shade — all cheerful, musical ideas as light, bringing out the contrast, with light more pronounced than darkness This may be done by speaking of the " tink, tink, tink, " the music, and light as that of which we approve, while of the noise, the shade, the dark and disagreeable we disapprove. The light may be given on a touch of high pitch, the shade a slight degree of low pitch, a departure from the medium. Make a careful study of the whole selection as if to illus- trate it. See more than is mentioned in the selection, all details of the workshop, tools around, forge, anvil, the cat, most important of all, the man himself, his dress, and his facial expression. Do not be sparing of effort expended on this side of the Btudy, all this gives to your expression a mental value of life and real interest. All this concen- tration of the mind on the scene and a participation in the spirit oE it will give it such a value and an interest to the reader himself as will readily be imparted to the listener. Paintings furnish excellent suggestions and helps for the reader or speaker. The student is asked to look over some helpful suggestions and to observe how the artist has made many things contribute to the central idea in one of the greatest of the world's paintings, " Christ Before Pilate. " This painting is great, not alone from the fact that it is supposed to have cost $120,000.00, but because it leaves a never-to-be-forgotten impression on the mind of him who stands before it with a responsive heart and mind. This painting is costly and famous because of the thought and feeling the artist has put into it. Let the student observe how the artist has brought out the chief and central theme, Christ Before Pilate. As to importance Christ star ds first, Pilate second. Christ and Pilate are superior, all the other characters, inferior, lend- PRESERVING THE UNITY 11 ing themselves to the unity. Great preeminence is given to the chief figure as it stands under the magnificent arch a little to the right of the center, with many long lines to add prominence. The second character, Pilate, has an exalted seat, the center of an inferior arch. Observe how the art- ist has made obscure the heads forming a background for the central head. Note the force of this. We can readily see in the painting how the artistic value would have been sacrificed had this background of inferior heads been made as large and clear cut as the central one. Other contrasts are marked. The robes of the central characters alone are white, in contrast with all the other robes. A great study is in the expression of the faces of the characters. The noble, kingly expression of the central character is sharply contrasted with much that is ignoble, — insolence, pride, hatred, scorn and mockrey. The hesitation and perplexity on the face of Pilate is contrasted with the con- fidence and assurance of the accusers. Another contrast is between the Roman soldier with his spear and the man with fettered wrists. We have noted a few simple suggestions for the student of expression hoping they may be useful in the analysis of the readings. In Nebuchadnezzar's Dream, Daniel II , we find some points of similarity in the analysis to the painting we have above considered. We have two important characters, a few prominent characters, a crowd of people. The central theme however is neither the King nor Daniel, but the Dream. We find the study divides into one important scene and several little scenes. Scene I. the King's bed chamber. The principal scene is in the throne room, where three acts take place : the astrologers, before the King, sending out a decree to destroy the wise men ; Daniel before the King; Daniel's second appearance before the King and the in- 12 THE ART OF RENDERING terpretation of the dream . Picture the -whole scene vividly, The King may be seated a little at the right of the center, all ideas of the study are grouped about him. Daniel may stand on the left of the center, where he gives his speech as an oration. In telling the dream, near climax is reached on — "a stone was cut out without hands, .... and the stone that smote the image became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth. " The climax of the whole study comes near the last of the interpretation — " In the days of these Kings shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom which shall never be destroyed : . . . and it shall stand forever." The interpretation may be given as an explanation, with mental inflections, rising to a climax of fervor on the part about the kingdom, reaching highest point on — " it gkaR stand forever. " Bring out the side scenes, as the scene between Daniel and Arioch, another at Daniel's house when he tells his companions, then the night vision and Daniel's prayer and thanksgiving, a second scene between Daniel and Arioch, promotion of Daniel and companions at the close. Work out a contrast between Daniel and the King, — Daniel, always noble, while the King varies from perplex- ity in verse 3, angry threat in part of verse 5, angry accusa- tion 5 and 9, furious command verse 12, awe and submis- sion verse 47. Contrast Daniel with magicians who boast then argue; Daniel humble, for he says : " this secret is not revealed to me for any wisdom I have more than any living, '" Subjective studies, lyrics, psalms etc. are more difficult to analyze than the above numbers as the real heart of it lies hidden beneath the surface. It is often one mood, or one feeling. For example the Psalm XXIII is a song of trust. The love and trust is told over and over again in different ways, but never the occasion of sadness. PHYSICAL CULTURE 13 In Psalm Vlll, the unity is contemplation. The poet is contemplating all God's works. He compares nature with man and decides man is greater than the other creatures because he has dominion over them. The poet seems to be talking to himself. « Nightfall, "in the " Studies in Rendering, " has for the key thought " a melody of other days. " The nightfall meditations are all grouped about this thought. But there is little to indicate whether the memory is pleasant or sad so the student must add that important point. Subjective lyrics are in the " Studies in Rendering. " No study should be attempted without first making an analysis. The foregoing suggestions are far from complete, the aim being to set each pupil thinking for himself with a hope that individuality may be developed and natural expression result PHYSICAL CULTURE- " Be ye therefore perfect " The upright man with bis high Moral and Spiritual uprightness with elements of TruthfulnesSj Conscientious- ness, Courage, and Duty Fulfilled should be Erect Manly, Commanding. We can do no better at this point than to quote from " The Place and Power of the Personality in Expression." by Dr. William R Alger. Below the following principle he has given us two word pictures : — A pure and free personality is a transparent me- dium for divine realities to shine through : but one preoccupied with individual peculiarities intercepts the divine realities it should reveal, and fixes attention on itself. 14 THE ART OF RENDERING Suppose a person to advance in front of an audience with a club foot, a bent knee, a stiff hip, a crooked arm, a hunch back, a wry neck, a wabbling jaw, a lifeless lip, a sunken nose, a squint eye, a cadaverous skin and a wheezy voice. Suppose in addition, that in correspondence with this physical side of his being the spiritual side is made up of faculties narrow, mean, feeble and empty, des- titute of knowledge or training and infested with all sorts of odious antipathies, envies, spites, so that he is as igno- rant and bad as he is hideous. Suppose then that he should undertake to deliver an oration, or read a poem, or imper- sonate a dramatic character. The spectators, according to their several characters, would experience sensations of mirth, curiosity, amazement, pity, scorn, disgust, sorrow, distress or hatred. They could not experience emotions of approval, admiration, reverence or delight. They could not feel themselves pleased, enriched, edified, inspired. Why not? The reason is clear. It is because the ignoble, repulsive marks stamped into the unfortunate performer are the language of weakness, discord, vice, sin and misery: expressions of wrong and degradation, which inflict suffer- ing and awaken instinctive abhorrence or pity. Beside they prove that he is so tied to himself, so confined to the revolting consciousness of his own wretched experience — such a symbolizer or reflecting mirror of the false, the bad, the ugly, — that he is utterly incapacitated to be a revela- tory medium of the godlike freedom and glory of any noble forms of truth, goodness and beauty. Every deformity or stricture of the body, every bias of the soul, enslaves the personality itself, and by this pre- occupation of the medium with the individual, blocks the reception and transmission of what is universal. But the business of the artist is to represent nature, jus- PHYSICAL CULTURE 15 tice, law, use, humanity, virtue, liberty, God — not to ex- hibit himself and his infirmities. Just so far as private peculiarities, either physical or spiritual, are protruded by him, his personality, instead of reflecting, intercepts those divine attributes, which alone have any claim to be loved and worshipped, and which alone, therefore, should ever be exhibited by any one for assimilation by others. In contrast with this hideous and painful example, imag- ine now the opposite extreme. Conceive an orator whose physique is all symmetry and whose morale is all excel- lence. Let his form be perfect in proportions ; his feat- ures vivacious, and glowing with health ; his nerves sur- charged with energy ; his voice disciplined to every variety of tone, emphasis and inflection ; his actions faultless in grace and dignity ; his reason and imagination of the high- est order; his knowledge covering all departments of history, science, art, and philosophy ; his character everything that is pure and exalted; a devout patriot, philanthropist, seeker of perfection, and worshipper of God. Suppose him on an important occasion to address an assembly capable of appieciating the facts of the case. The effect must be overwhelming. The exemplification of all that can charm, instruct, move, convince and command — all that is cloth- ed with divinest loveliness and authority, — would be such as to enthrall, and ravish his auditors, and carry them quite beyond themselves. Such would be the transcendent influ- ence lent to his personality by the divine qualities dwelling in it and shining through it- All the way between these two ideal extremes of repul- siveness and fascination, each example of personal expres- sion will be charged with power to kindle loathing or long- ing in the measure of its climacteric type. Dr. Wmiam B. Jllger. Publisher. E. S. Werner, 43 E. 19 th St. New York City. 16 THE ART OF RENDERING Physical uprightness may be attained by a proper moral state, a proper mental state, a correct carriage of the body. Physical uprightness may be attained by Physical Culture. The Physical Culture of the early Greeks has, so far as education is concerned, made them " the despair of all succeeding ages. " " Greece has given us representative men in every department. We point to Greece for the greatest orator, for the greatest creative poet, for the great- est sculptor, for the first man in what we consider the high, est mental philosophy. Plato intellectually stands at the head of all the philosophers of the world. We must re- member, then, that that which made the Greeks what they were about four or five hundred years before Christ, was the natural evolution from physical culture. " The education of the ancient Greeks was more of a phys- ical than of a mental culture. Young children till about their sixth year were trained at home, after this they were sent to a private instructor, music and gymnastics being the foremost subjects. In this way was attained a sound mind in a sound body. Physical uprightness as related to the moral is illustrat- ed by dwarfs and deformed characters, as Shakespeare's Richard III, Dickens's Fagain. There are however some exceptions. The moral shows its relation to the physical by the beauty the spirit imparts to it, moulding even ugly features into beauty of expression. Real beauty emanates from the soul, chiseling the features into harmony and grace by the character that permeates the entire being and leaves its imprint on the countenance from the life back of it. Of the various Systems of Physical Culture may be men- tioned that of the ancient Greeks with severe muscular ex- ercise with games and races; the Romans, wrestling, gladia- PHYSICAL CULTURE 17 torial sports. In mediaeval history were the tilts, tourna- ments, horsemanship and archery ; more modern, German Calisthenics and military training. To-day we have beside what is known as athletics, physical exercise found in our gymnasiums and what is known as German, Swedish, the French or Delsarte, Americanized Delsarte or iEsthetic Physical Culture. The Emerson System may be called a modified Delsarte, with such changes as secure strength as well as grace. The results secured in the last named are sufficient proof of the merits of this system of exercises. UNIQUE FEATURES OF EMERSON SYSTEM. 1. Repetition — ( Understood by the Greeks ). 2. Movements authorized and required by the laws of our being. Objects Sought. 1. Vital supply of the entire body. 2. Proper position of the vital organs. 3. Develop vital organs by exercising the muscles that surround them. 4. Deep breathing. 5. Preserve the due balance between the energy that supplies and the energy that wastes. 6. Strengthen the centers while freeing the surfaces. i Chest center of body. Dominant Centers j Lips center of articulation. ' Nerve centers. Spinal Column ( Conservation of energy at centers. Control of Centers j Freeing of Articulations. ' Sympathetic action of parts. 7. To develop due relationship between different groups of muscles. 18 THE ART OF RENDERING 8. Develop opposing muscles or opposition of agents. a. Muscular sense and equilibrium. b. Kelation of muscles to nerves. c. Education of nerve centers. d. Reflex action. e. Overworked muscles and nerves relieved. 9. Preserve true balance between the life sustaining forces and the brain. a. Healthy attitudes of mind. b. Hygienic and Esthetic value. c. Hygienic: strength, symmetry, health. d. Esthetic : grace, harmony, beauty. Manner of Taking Exercises. a. Slowness. b. Evenness. c. Perfect time. d. Animation. Summary of Advantages. Health. Strength. Grace. Expression. Improved address, f In Social Life. Improved Manners \ In Business Life. In Public Life. The Ideal System:— For home use. No apparatus. Adapted to the strength of all. Grace not ugliness. Movements psychological, not acrobatic; not an over- development of large muscles at expense of delicate or heart. PHYSICAL CULTURE 19 Aim to cultivate the blood-making power. Vital organs are diminished in size by carelessness. Vital organs often abnormally low from the cramped position of the chest pressing them down. Exercise assists the arteries, so the blood may flow without pressure. Muscles of vital organs never rest but alternate. Physical Culture strengthens them. We may compare the culture of the body to the thought- ful construction and adjustment of parts of a system with all connections ready to turn on the power, when the unobstructed message may carry with uneiring force. That nature gives body, mind and voice, and that the high- est results may be secured only through culture, none can deny. It is to be regretted that the training the average person receives in school is largely of the mind with a dis- regard to the other sides of the individual. The physical body is capable of culture as well as the mind. The body may be made strong, flexible, and so ex- pressive, one may almost say " his body thought. " The body may be so trained that instead of being as an instru- ment, all in one piece, like an axe, for example, it may be trained to act in parts, independent as well as dependent upon each other, complex yet each self-centered. The body may be trained to move without friction, in this way securing economy of energy. When the body is properly adjusted to the soul, and an all-round harmony of being is secured, with the physical body at its best, it is found that the influence of reflex action is most elevating and refining on the inner life. By placing the body in noble attitudes we cultivate noble feel- ing. So as we physically assume a virtue, repeatedly we unconsciously grow along that line. James's Psychology under '• Consciousness and Movement " says : — 20 THE ART OF RENDERING Using sweeping terms and ignoring exceptions, we might say that every possible feeling produces a movement, and that the movement is of the entire organism, and of each and all its parts We have now experimental proof that the heart beats, the arterial pressure, the respiration, the sweat glands, the pupil, some of the vital organs, as well as the voluntary muscles, may have their tone and de- gree of contraction altered by the most insignificant sensorial stimuli. In short, a process set up anywhere in the centers reverberates everywhere, and in some way or other affects the organism throughout, making its activities greater or less. The whole neural organism is, physiologically con- sidered, but a machine for converting stimuli into reactions. Under the chapter on " Emotion " Prof. James says:— The feeling in the coarser emotions, results from bodily expression. Our natural way of thinking about these coars- er emotions is that the mental perception of some fact ex- cites the mental affection called the emotion, and that this latter state of mind gives rise to bodily expression. My theory, on the contrary, is that the bodily changes follow directly the perception of the exciting fact, and that our feelings of the same changes as they occur is the emotion. Common sense says, we lose our fortune, are sorry and weep; meet a bear, are frightened and we run; we are insulted by a rival, are angry and strike. The hypothesis here to be defended says, that this order of sequence is incorrect, that one mental state is not imme- diately induced by the other, that the bodily manifestations must first be interposed between, and that the more rational statement is that we feel sorry because we cry, angry be- cause we strike, afraid because we tremble, and not that we cry, strike or tremble because we are sorry, angry or fearful as the case may be. Without the bodily states fol- lowing on the perception, the latter would be purely cog- PHYSICAL CULTURE 21 nitive in form, pale, colorless, destitute of emotional warmth. Particular perceptions certainly do produce wide-spread bodily effects by a sort of immediate physical influence, antecedent to the arousal of an emotional idea. From the foregoing from such a recognized authority we may gather most important scientific facts : that there is a reflex relation between action and feeling as well as between feeling and action. Much may be gained by assuming a noble feeling though we possess it not. Continued repeti- tion of noble attitudes will cultivate noble feelings. The mental impression causes action of the body. The action of the body causes emotion in harmony with the expression. This is a fact of importance in character building with the physical culture as an aid and in training the body for gesture. The coarser feelings and passions may be tamed, cultivated, refined and mastered as the body acquires skill in noble, graceful movement. No thoughtful person who is interested in the betterment of the race can ignore facts of such value. We find an astonishing amount of ignorance and indif- ference along these lines, even among the learned who do not stop to think the matter through. Little distinction is made between Physical Culture and physical exercise while the difference may be as great as between the pugilist and the pianist; both exercise — but the pianist may send out his very soul into his finger tips, causing them to vibrate with emotion second only to the vocal cords of the human voice- Such skill comes not by nature or by exercise alone, but by careful, thoughtful culture. Other parts of the body beside the fingers may be so cultivated as to quiver and pulsate with the thought and feeling from the inner life. Even as the pianist is benefited by the expressions sent out of exalted emotions, so the other parts of the body may respond to noble thoughts and feeling and find satisfaction 22 THE ART OF RENDERING through the reaction back to the source. Men and women will tell you they get all the physical culture needed in their daily work and so believe it to be, making no distinction between physical exercise and physi- cal culture, ignoring the fact that the way in which they are taking their exercise is cramping and deforming their bodies and souls too, day after day. Such thoughtlessness as is exhibited in looking after the bands and sockets and levers of the human body bestowed on any ordinary piece of machinery would soon work its ruin. Too much strain on any one part or on all parts causes friction and waste of energy and inability to perform its proper functions. All ready to repair the loss stands the grand army of physicians, it would seem outnumbering the grand army of the world. The Creator of us all is the author of order and harmony, in all nature. Man must be taught " be ye perfect. " In order to be so we must give some attention to the joints and pulleys and see to it that some of the wheels are not clog- ged or overworked,instead of tugging along just any way till there comes a general breakdown. It sometimes is true the flaw at first might have been covered with the point of a pin, some point in a nerve where the energy failed to pass. There is sometimes an unconscious stiffening of some part of the spine, causing a jar and discord. There may be, for some cause, a frown on the face or some anxiety within disturbing the breath and circulation. Numberless things might happen to interfere with the perfect, harmonious balanced, rhythmic action of the physical body. " In times of peace prepare for war. " No person should think himself too strong or too busy or too wise to give not only exercise but culture to the body. "With proper attention to these matters one may not only add life to one's years but years to one's life. Surely here if anywhere is discovered the long sought " Fountain of Perpetual Youth." THE THREEFOLD NATURE _ The Threefold Nature manifests through chosen tracts as indicated by divisions and subdivisions. I. Physical II. Mental III. Emotive PHYSICAL CULTURE 23 The following physical exercises are based on Psycholog- ical principles and the Delsarte Philosophy. • Let us consider briefly Delsarte's threefold division of the body in harmony with the threefold nature as illustra- ted by the chart. We find the three forms of nature are manifested through the three tracts — from the waist line down the physical, — the head, mental, — the chest is a center of the emotive. As an illustration of an expression of the physical is the man who stands with his hands in his pockets and gesticulates with his thumb. An example of the mental, a teacher would be conscious of her head and mark nice mental points with the first and little fingers. An illustration of the emotive, the chest as the leading agent of expression — courage, the chest high and square to the front. Pity seems to come from the chest. We turn the chest away from what we dislike, " give the cold shoul- der, " and " get the back up. " The - following exercises aim to give a harmonious action of the parts of the body acting together ; for example, in a salutation the expression comes from all the emotive divi- sions and subdivisions, the chest, the top of the head and the palm of the hand. Says Henry Ward Beecher whose oratory is still ringing and will continue to ring down through the ages: — " One of the very first steps in Oratory is that which trains the body to be the welcome and glad servant of the soul — which it is not always ; for many and many a one who has acres of thought has little of bodily culture, and as little grace of manners; and many and many a one who has sweetening inside has cacophony when he speaks. Harsh, rude, hard, bruising, are his words. The first work therefore is to teach a man's body to serve his soul. " " Not stark and stiffened persons, but the new-born poetry of God— Apollo and the muses chanting still. " 24 THE ART OF RENDERING PHYSICAL EXERCISES. Poise. Our first step will be to poise the body properly- As a reason governing what follows we take the chest as the center because it is the seat of manifestation of the highest life. The immortal soul, whose servant is the mind, stands first; not the physical body, for it is not immortal, it soon dies. The highest nature manifests its emotions through the chest, the great emotive center of the whole. So we should aim to train the chest as the center of the body ; the center of strength; the center of expression. Let us now use a Rule to govern the poising of the body. In that the emotive nature is superior to the physical nature and on this account we say, should be carried with greatest prominence, we find a reason for Da Vinci's Law for rosing Statues,— A vertical line from the chest should fall through the ball of the foot. An other poise: stand with the toes about three inches from the wall the chest touching the wall should leave the abdomen free. This poise with the chest over the balls of the feet should be observed in walking and standing. With the chest in the lead instead of the abdomen, one not only presents a better appearance and feels nobler, but it is found in walk- ing gravity works for one instead of against, which is a point of economy of energy. In walking let the chest lead. It is quite impossible to put the weight on the ball of the foot first, but let the chest go first so walking is a series of falling down. Do not strike out and overdo on this way of carrying the body when the idea is new, as the carriage may at first be far from graceful; but practice the poising exercises. Think the idea of proper poise till it naturally takes possession of you, so it may be as natural to carry yourself with ease and grace as it was to do otherwise before. Do not " put on " any unnatural manner, PHYSICAL EXERCISES 25 We need not only to give attention to the position of the chest with relation to the feet but to the positions of the feet themselves. Principle,— Weakness takes a strong attitude and strength a weak attitude. Weakness would stand on a broad base with the feet wide apart, while strength would take a narrow base, feet near together or weight on one foot Weakness taking a strong attitude is illustrated in the child learning to walk, or in a drunken person, or the old and feeble who stand with the feet wide apart or braced. The narrow base is not only an expression of strength but grace as well. The narrow base makes most promi- nent the longest line of beauty in the body. An active chest bears us up as on wings. Let us rather than plod with the whole flat foot, touch the earth lightly with the ball of the foot. Poise. Exercise I With a sense of strength in the chest, with weight on both feet, poise the body forward while counting one meas- ure — then back to position — back — position, ( Let the ankles serve as hinges for the sway forward and backward as far as is possible either way without loosing poise. ) Now rise on tips of toes — down — rise again — hold — down to position. Eight foot. Repeat with weight on right foot same as both feet. Left foot. Repeat the same as right In poising feel you are drawn in each movement by an influence leading or drawing out from the chest. Hips. Exercise II. With tips of fingers on shoulders, first count, sway onto right foot; second, push the hip out; third count still hold push down; forth count, glide weight over onto the left foot and repeat same as right. Repeat right Repeat left. 26 ART OF RENDERING Waist. Exercise III. . Exercise the muscles of the waist, as carefully directed in chapter on Breathing, before attempting this exercise. Practice carefully the panting exercise there described and see that the waist exercises here are taken with the same action as in the panting. Contracting and expanding is simply long pants. The training of the waist muscles is so important in correct breathing and voice culture, wrong practice will do more harm than good. The assistance of a competent teacher is almost indispensable. Place the hands lightly at sides of the waist, contract through two counts ; expand through two counts ; repeat expanding; repeat contracting. Position. Chest. Exercise IV. With tips of fingers lightly touching the chest, lower it slowly, at the same time pushing the chin out; that is to say, take a mean attitude, slowly through two counts; now lift the chest high as possible, chin in; that is take a noble atti- tude. Repeat both down and up, giving two measures for each movement. Position - Bending. Exercise V. The Bending exercise at any time and apart from the other movements is most restful and may act in the place of the doctor for some ailments. The spine with its " silver cord " demands careful attention. The Physician tells us that the nerves supply life and motion to every organ and muscle of the body. The nerves come down from the brain through the spinal column and pass inside through holes between the vertebrae. The openings for the nerves may be injured giving us " pinched nerves. " " Respectability" stiffens the spine; pride stiffens the neck; uncomfortable clothing imposes a burden with derangement of the vital organs. The spinal column has a responsible part to play PHYSICAL EXERCISES 27 as the backbone of life. From the pressure upon it, it is shorter at night than in the morning. Now let us relax, with arms hanging lifeless at the sides begin to bend. Relax as if going to sleep. Feel as if the head is tied on with a string. Think to bend at the top- most joint, following along down, one vertebra at a time, continue to bend till the head hangs limp in front, through two measures. Still relaxed, head hanging, sway with one measure to each position following. Left — front — right — front — left — front — right — back — left — front — left — back — right — front — Position. Head. Exercise VI. With head easily erect, facing front, rest of the body dead still, turn face till it looks straight over the right shoulder ; up — ( Look directly overhead. ) twist back — down — front. Repeat the same as to the left side. Count one measure of four beats for each position. Inhaling. Exercise VII. All arm exercises are to be taken with the weight of the body on the right foot when the right arm is active, on the left foot when the left arm is active, on both feet when both arms are active. The student will be saved from con- fusion in working out the following by observing the above which is true of gesture. Suggestions for inhaling will be found in the chapter on Breathing. In practicing the Inhaling, take the breath in through the nostrils while raising the arm and exhale while lower- ing it Reach the arm well out, making large circles with a vigorous backward reach. Right foot — right arm — ( Inhale through two measures and exhale through two ) up down — again. Repeat same left Repeat both. 28 THE ART OF RENDERING Reaching. ExerciseVIII. In practicing this exercise and all following in the series the important principles " Opposition of Agents, " found in chapter on " Gesture, " and what is given at the close of this treatment of the Physical Exercises about Flexibility and Strength at the center and freedom at the extremities should he continually borne in mind as the foremost aim in view. This of course must come after the mechan- ical order of learning the movements. Prepare to learn the Reaching Exercise by imagining yourself inside a cage about 12 ft. high by 8 ft. wide. The reaches are in six directions. In each reach the foot is opposed to the hand : for illustration, when the right hand pushes toward the right side of the cage the left foot pushes toward the left side, and so in all the directions the hand and foot are opposed. This makes a sort of a diagonal stretch of the body equal to a vigorous yawn. The reaches are Lateral Right ; Lateral Left ; Backward Right; Backward Left; Forward Right; Forward Left. Preceding each arm action the free limb is given a full swing around the one bearing the weight. Position of the foot or both feet is always taken first as in all the other movements and in gesture. Give particular attention to the progressive order of the energy of each movement. Begin with the body lifeless, sway the weight over on to the right foot, swing the left one count, gradually begin to raise the arm, with the wrist leading ; as the arm rises increase the tension till the whole energy is exerted ; push with the palm near the wrist, the opposite foot near the heel. Take two measures to reach the highest tension, hold one measure, relax slowly as the arm falls through two measures, limp at the side ready for the next reach. Alternate relaxation and tension. This is as much an exercise for the foot as for the hand; make the PHYSICAL EXERCISES 29 stroke of foot and hand together. Stretch and grow. Stretching makes straight. Stretching makes flexible. "Weight on right foot— swing left— right arm — up — reach — hold — rest — down — Same as to Lateral JLeft, Back Right, Back Left, Front Eight, Front Left. In all but the lateral reaches the hand reaches toward the different upper corners of the cage and the foot toward the lower corners. Hands and Wrists. Exercise IX. The aim in this exercise should be for flexibility of wrist. A stiff wrist is as great a detriment to ease and grace of expression as a stiff neck, and far more common. We say the hand is a second face. In many cases it seems to be a tool only. How often people tell us, if not always in words, " I do not know what to do with my hands. " Really our hands should be no more in the way than our faces, and will not be when they have been made expressive. Let us first work out the stiffness out of the wrist. Let the wrist bend a bit, it is not the handle of a shovel which will be ruined if you let go. A bend of the wrist will give more grace. In all the arm movements let the wrist lead rather than the tips of the fingers. . In lifting the arm feel the hand is being drawn through the water, the fingers trail- ing, Move the arms in all directions, up, down, out and in, fingers floating in the water. Train the palm to come well open, let it touch the imaginary water too. Cultivate " openhandedness " rather than " tightfistedness. " The hand not only reveals but trained to express thought helps to cultivate correct thinking. Train the hand to manifest thought and feeling ; do not allow it to wear the face of an idiot, without any thought. When it is made responsive the public speaker will have something in it to give and will not need to hide it behind him, or gut it in his pocket 30 ART OF RENDERING or what is worse, use it in meaningless gesticulation ; this being a way of showing how empty it is. This series of ex- ercises for the flexibility of the wrist is especially helpful to the pianist. For further study of the hand see chapter on " Gesture, " and Laws of the Hands in " Science of Speech. " Take the Wrist exercise with active chest, free, limp arms, shake the forearm vigorously, up and down — out — ( Make large circles outward. ) in — ( Making large circles inward, rotating the wrist in both outward and inward movements. ) — up and down — Rest. Arms. Exercise X. The arm moves in opposition to the head. When the arm is raised the head is lowered, when the arm is lowered the head is raised, when the arm sweeps out to the right the face turns as far to the left, etc. This is as much an exercise for the head as for the arm. Weight on right foot — right arm — up— down — push back — up again — down. Same as to left foot and arm. Same as to both feet and both arms. Both arms overhead, fingers of both hands nearly touch- ing^ — out, back of hands leading to arm's length out — up overhead, palms leading up — out again, palms leading out — up, backs of hands leading up — front of chest, push — out, arms length at the sides — down to position. In all arm movements let the wrist lead. Observe in all the movements the points of action and the points of rest. Sweeps of arms. Exercise XI. Sweeps of arm out from the chest to the lateral are to be made with the hand in three different positions. First the back of hand leads out, palm leads back ; second, the palm of the hand leads out and the back of the hand PHYSICAL CULTURE 31 leads back ; third, the side of the hand leads out, palm down and the side of the hand leads back. Observe the oppositions of hand and head. Work for an active chest, making climax of the stroke with chest and arm reach to- gether, relax on arm's return. Weight on the right foot — right arm — out — back — out — back — out — back — Position. Repeat the same as to left side. Arms, Salutation. Exercise XII. Weight on right foot reacting back on left as the body inclines slightly as head is lowered to meet the hand. Weight on right foot, raise the right arm, with the palm facing outward, as the hand rises the head is bowed to meet the palm as if to be placed on the head, two measures, next the hand falls to the side as the head is raised and the weight of the body returns to the right foot, two measures ; repeat the same with the same time; the third time the same save the hand rises only on a level with the chest; fourth the same as the first only a sweep of arm overhead with the fingers nearly touching left side of head ; fifth same as the third; the sixth the same as the fourth; the seventh the same as the third. Position. Repeat the same, leftfoot and arm. Kepulsion. Attraction. ExerciseXIII. In this exercise, as well as in all the others be particular to let the chest lead. Feel conscious of the action in the chest first. In repulsion, let the chest slightly react before the hand attempts to push outward. Try to respond with the whole body. Weight on the right foot, bring hand to the ear as if listening, hold one count ; body reacts and hand pushes out- ward as if repulsing something offensive, hold one count; repeat the same; listen, the third time something attractive, the arm is raised, hand held as expecting to receive, the 32 THE ART OF RENDERING whole body, chest, face, ear, eye and hand is attracted. The measures for attraction are: right arm — up — hand — hold — back — repeat the same then rest. Weight on left foot repeat both " repulsion, " and " at- traction, " Position. Hands Finish. Exercise XIV. Weight on both feet; wrists leading, backs of both hands uppermost, lifted above waist line, one count ; down, backs leading down. Repeat, palms leading up; over, palms leading down. Position. Bow. Exercise XV. In order to acquire this useful accomplishment so it is a genuine expression of our feelings without affectation let us find the reason back of the bow. Review the chart given concerning the threefold divisions of the body. The bow should be an expression of respect, admiration, love or reverence. Of whatever degree, it is an expression from the emotive nature. In this all the emotive divisions of the body respond together : eye first, chest, top of head, palm of hand. The free foot is inclined to swing behind the strong foot, crossing behind it as the knees are crooked and the chest lowered- Bend at the hips. The hearty bow moves the body with a long diagonal sweep toward the strong foot. The formal bow, without heart, with the weight on both feet, bow more directly in front. The heathen bows or prostrates himself directly before his lifeless, loveless idol ; true warmth and hearty love and reverence give more sway and grace to the bow- With the meaning of the bow in mind overdo in practice. Bow slowly and profoundly. In one form : stand with the weight on the right foot, as the body is bowing, the chest lowered, sway the body toward the active right foot; on return to position, let the weight fall back onto the left foot. PHYSICAL EXERCISES 33 The eyes should not be allowed to drop while making a bow, save in humility or timidity, but should rest upon the person or persons to whom the respect is shown. Sitting and kneeling are simply forms of bowing, though sitting has not a similar significance in meaning. Practice with the weight on the right foot, bow, 2, 3, 4, 1,2,3,4; rise, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. After overdone practice, greet the friends with but a slight suggestion of that overdone, yet feel it pass like a wave passing over the entire body even as in the deep bow, with movements of ease, grace and expression instead of a bob or jerk of the head, so common, expressing an attack of recognition merely, but of little respect. Let us manifest all noble feeling in a noble manner. To associate exalted thought and Eeeling with all the Physical Exercises adds much to their value giving fervor and earnestness. STRENGTH AT THE CENTER. Law. — Strength at the center gives freedom at the extremities. No law of Expression can be of greater value than this if fully appreciated and mastered. As we have said before, the chest is the center of the body, the center of physical strength, the center of feeling. Think of the chest as the great powerhouse and dynamo that demands attention that it may be supplied with all needed to maintain it and to prevent waste and leakage of valuable power. The nerve energy being wasted is quite as valuable as electricity and it is time to learn to save it for we need it in the serious business of life. We can readily understand it is a waste of electricity to turn on the lights in the day time, or to send out power when it is not needed. We may not be aware of the fact we are daily doing this very wasteful thing when we send 34 THE ART OF RENDERING out to the hands or feet or head or any part of the body nerve force when it is not needed, or too much when it is needed, or what is still worse, leave it all turned on all the time. To illustrate what we mean by wasting the nerve energy, observe the child just learning to write. The little hand uses enough energy to drive a plane instead of a pen. Look at women out shopping grasping a hand bag with sufficient energy to hold the reins in driving a high-spirited horse. They return home wondering why they are so tired. To multiply illustrations is quite useless for you are apt to find a living illustration of this unconscious slavery in the first person you meet, even should it chance to be in the mirror. In fact very few have learned this priceless secret of economy of human energy. No attempt can be made in this limited space to treat fully this important matter. A few hints on the practical side of it may help the student to find out for himself the value of saving and wisely spending his life energy. We go to sleep and rest. We relax and the energy goes to vital centers of life and we are renewed in strength. We may not sleep while we are awake but we may train our- selves to rest while we are awake. Not to rest from our la- bors but rest in our labors. Those who gain this rare ability must be willing to pay the price for it. It cannot be taken like patent medicine from a spoon, leaving you only to just wait for a charm to be wrought upon you. It may not be attained by hearing about it though hearing may be needful. The race is to the swift. Get the idea of carrying the chest high — a noble atti- tude firmly fixed. Feel that in the chest is the center of life, the hub of the wheel. Learn to relax the extremities when not necessary to use them. Let the hands and feet relax and go to sleep when not employed. This is really easier said than done. We may tell a wire to relax, it may PHYSICAL EXERCISES 35 try but cannot. "We may tell a bow-string as stiff as a wire to relax. It is nearly as helpless as the wire, but as it is made of yielding material by working it and stretching it it may be limbered up so it can be made tense or slack at will. So there may need to be considerable working and stretching of muscles and tense cords before they can relax even when they will to do so. Stretching exercises make plastic and responsive. In exerting great energy send it out from the chest. In lifting think to put the strain on the chest instead of on the biceps. It often happens, the man with the great bi- ceps has a weak chest for the great arm muscles have been quietly robbing the vital organs and the weaker and more delicate muscles. The great athlete often suddenly breaks down, because the balance has been taken from the natural vital center and the harmony broken. In working for strength at the center, we may find an unerring guide in nature's own gymnastic : the yawn with a stretch. Observe how this homely exercise is performed. We first fill the lungs with a good full breath that seems to be drawn from the tips of the toes, then with the breath begin to lift the chest, raise one shoulder and the opposite limb a bit at the same time, send out the energy to all the extremities, hold tense an instant then relax — but not sud- denly — slowly the energy returns to the center, and we come out of it with a sense of being awakened and invig- orated or if not we try again. "When we practice the Phys- ical Culture as yawn culture we come near to nature's way and need not fear the results. So let the yawn be a guide for the stretching in the physical exercises. There is a rhythm in this alternate, even contraction and relaxation of the muscles, quieting the nerves and stimulating as a nerve tonic. In taking the stretching, feel that the muscles are rubber — stretch slowly and evenly to their limit — let 36 ART OF RENDERING the tension out evenly so the cords will not kink. In this way we may gain flexibility of body capable of responding to the most delicate thought and feeling, even as the violin strings may be attuned to finest expression because of the flexibility. So make the whole physical body flexible that there may be a responsive element for the divine soul within to play upon. PHYSICAL CULTURE NOTES. "The spinal column contains all of the motive power of man ; upon the spinal column depends all the symmetry of the body. Nearly every malformation results from wrong positions of the spinal column. Preach the gospel of the spinal column everywhere, as our physical culture is based upon it. The spinal column cannot be overstraightened. Elevating it produces instantaneous effect upon the stomach nerve, with very beneficial effect upon digestion. Going up stairs is hurtful or not, according to how it is done. The mind has much to do with it. If you feel hurried, you do not do it easily or gracefully. Think only of keeping the chest high, then the head seems to float up. Various ways of ascending stairs, — pounding up because a feeble will makes any one feeble ; bustling up out of breath. Don't put the foot up and climb up after it. Learn from the Greeks to poise the Mental Kingdom on the physical, with the mind shining from the candlestick of the body. Keep the crown of the head firm. Never surrender your manhood or womanhood to your activity — your individuality is greater than anything you can do; maintain it ever. Leadership of the spinal column is the crown of the head, leadership of torso, the chest; of arm, between hand and elbow; limb, in walking, half between the knee and ankle." Dr. Charles W. Emerson- THE BREATH 37 THE BREATH OP LIFE. The blood and breath are the vital forces of life; neither can exist without the other. It has come to be of greater importance that we have red blood in our veins than that we have blue blood even. It is the breath that keeps the flame of life glowing and gives the red blood. It makes a difference what you breathe, how you breathe, and how much you breathe. If all virtues of medicine, all kinds of physical exercises all kinds of voice culture could be summed up in one thing, it would come nearer to being a concentrated whole in this one act : correct breathing. It is through this more than through any one thing you may gain nerve to master your circumstances ; and in this way, if any may you " add years to your life and life to your years. " No person can any more afford to be careless about breathing than about other nourishment for his body. The advantages gained by cultivating the breath are very numerous; among them may be mentioned, health and strength; a cure for nervousness and embarrassment; in- crease of bodily warmth ; control ,of rhythmic circulation of the blood; a basis for improved voice production and means of speech. " Calenus and Galen and other Greek and Soman phy- sicians recommended deep breathing and retention of air as a daily exercise and as a remedy. They believed thereby to increase the heat of the inner organism, to enlarge the chest, to strengthen the respiratory organs, to remove the impurities from the breast, to open the pores of the skin, to thin the skin itself, to drive the fluids through it. " Says Gladstone — " All time and money spent in train- ing the voice and body is an investment that pays a larger interest than any other. " 38 THE ART OF RENDERING BKEATH ORGANS. The Organs of Breath are the Diaphragm, Lungs, Trachea and Bronchial tubes with all their Muscles and assisting Motive Organs. Think of the lungs themselves in a general way as a big rubber bag without power of its own to act. It possesses great elasticity and can be expanded. The pressure of the outside air comes in the lungs when opened and fills them as a bottle is filled with air when the cork is taken out. Of course certain muscles assist in pumping in the air besides. The air may be expelled from the lungs by the pressure of certain muscles. There are several ways of doing this, some of which are far from right, yet we pass without dis- cussion ; but will endeavor to present that which experience and careful investigation have shown to be the right way. However large and ample the lung capacity may bo, nat- urally with a cramped chest there can be but little room for the expansion of the lungs, as the case of bone and flesh covering them is heavy, and easily crushes the very delicate lung tissue out of its rightful place and gives too little room for vigorous and healthy working. In expanding the lungs, first stand erect, lift the bony corselet with the ribs at the sides, lifting up and out like two bucket handles, that there may be room for the air of heaven to come in. Do not be satisfied with little sips of air, the whole heaven is full of it free at your disposal ; so as you value your life and want to nourish it partake freely of all of this life giving sustenance, and cultivate a camel's capacity for holding it. Feel as if the limbs are hollow tubes through which you draw the air into your body. In this way seem to breathe from the tips of the toes. Try to inflate the whole lung tract. And it is wonderful how accommodating the lungs are, how elastic, how quickly a THE BREATH 39 little effort will cause them to expand. The progress may be noted with the aid of a Spirometer. As in blowing up a rubber bag you aim directly at the bottom of it first, in the same way aim to fill the lower part of the lungs first. People afflicted with some forms of lung difficulties often receive benefit by going to a climate of rarer atmos- phere. This kind of a change of climate makes it necessa- ry for the patient to breathe deeply in order to satisfy, thus making it needful to exert the breathing organs with more vigor. From this increased activity of the breath organs comes much of the benefit derived from the change. One may gain the same advantage at home by exerting the will and learning to expand the lungs and to take in the breath of life- When we consider how few people breathe correctly we must admit nature is very generous with her children, and compromises in every way possible to help out in some oth- er way, even making it more difficult for us to do wrong than to do right. Most people are unwilling to be convinced that they are breathing incorrectly, thus allowing themselves to be delud- ed and cheated. While being able to breathe naturally is an advantage, yet the trained cultivated breathing organs far surpass the natural. We find examples of natural breath- ing in animals and little children. The natural breathing in children begins to change when selfconsciousness begins ; still greater changes come with embarrassment, which is little fear and disturbs the breath. The diaphragm is the great motor muscle concerned in breathing. This muscle may be trained even as a hand to work the bellows that supplies the wind for a great organ. The exercises for training this most important muscle will be found at close of the chapter under Breathing Exercises. 40 THE ART OF RENDERING Lung capacity. Kecognized authorities tell us that the lung capacity of a man of average height is 335 cubic inches. 225 cubic inches of air can be expelled, while 109 cubic inches remain in the lungs. The lung capacity bears a uni- form relation to the height of the person — increasing 8 cubic inches for every inch above 5 feet. When sitting or lying down the lung capacity is diminished. After a hearty meal the lung capacity is lessened from 10 to 20 cubic inches. Skill more tfi an strength. Inspiration is the opening and enlarging of the chest cavity. Expiration is the dimin- ishing of the size of the chest cavity. Inhalation is the passive part of breathing. Exhalation is the active part of breathing. Inhale only through the nostrils. " Shut the mouth and stretch the nostrils wide. " The reasons for doing so are plain. The nose is so made as to filter out the dust from the air. The crooked passage through the nostrils to the lungs affords au opportunity to warm the air, that it may be of the same temperature of the body before it comes into the lungs, that it may not chill the delicate membrane. Taking the breath through the nose prevents dryness in the throat of the speaker. The breath taken through the mouth, even in speaking or singing absorbs the saliva and causes dryness making it necessary to exert greater energy, causing unnecessary fatigue. The tongue pressed against the hard palate at the mo- ment of taking the breath serves as a barrier to prevent the passage of the air beyond through the mouth. Mouth breathing cannot be too strongly condemned. Aside from the bad effects on the organs of respiration, lungs, bronchial tubes, throat etc., it has a harmful influence on the nervous system. Careful tests show that mouth breathing weakens the intellect. The habitual mouth 1. Windpipe BREATH ORGANS 2. Lungs 3. Diaphragm THE BREATH 41 breathers of the public schools axe, almost without excep- tion, dull and stupid and from no other cause than this vicious habit of breathing through the mouth. Athletes keep the mouth closed while under great physi- cal exertion. The mouth is closed in any feat requiring great physical power. " Upton's Tactics " which has been adopted as the offi- cial drill book of the United States Army contains the following — " In marching double time and at the run, the men breathe as much as possible through the nose, keep- ing the mouth closed. Experience has proved that by conforming to this principle men can go much further with less fatigue. " The face of the mouth breather is branded with an ex- pression that grows more aud more repulsive the longer it is practiced. Dr. Clinton Wagner gives a picture of this face. " The habitual mouth breathers can at once be recognized, there is no mistaking them as the practice stamps itself indelibly on the physiognomy. The retracted lips, open mouth, receding gums, protruding teeth — especially the upper ones — shrunken alse, diminished size of the orifices of the nostrils, wrinkles at the outer angles of the eyes, giving the wearer an idiotic and silly expression, which is by no means agreeable to look upon. " The student will not need to search long among the wretched, who are not to be found entirely among the poor and ignorant for such faces as described above. When once the attention iscalled to the cause of such ugly faces and conditions, we should find here a warning in the impression of mouth breathing on the countenance, if it had no other, to prevent any sane person breathing through the mouth either asleep or awake- It has been proven beyond a doubt that a long list of lung, throat, nose and ear disorders, difficulties in other parts of the body, are traced directly to mouth breathing as a cause. 42 THE ART OF RENDERING We are told that insanity and diseases of the mind are unknown among tribes of Indians who breathe through t he nose only. EXPRESSIONS OF THE BREATH. Says Delsarte — " Logical respiration constitutes respi- ration itself. Suspension expresses reticence, disquietude. Inspiration is an element of dissimulation, concentration, pain. Hence, we have normal, oppressive, spasmodic, su- perior, sibilant, rattling, intermittent, crackling, and hic- coughing, respiration. Expiration is an element of trust, expansion, confidence and tenderness. If the expression contains both pain and love, the inspiration and expiration will both be noisy; but the one or the other will predomi- nate according as pain predominates over love, or vice versa. The source of passional respiration lies in the heart. The effect of respiration is most powerful, for the slighter and more imperceptible the phenomena are, the more effect they have upon the auditors. " Respiration and silence are a means of falling exactly upon the suitable tone and inflection. As the breath has a powerful influence over the pulse to quicken or quiet its action the breath plays an impor- tant part in pause and pitch in expression. There seems to be a rhythmic relation between the pulse and breath and the pulsations of attention. Some verse we find is so ar- ranged as to breathe out a single idea with each expiration. The action of the breath may have some influence over the average length of sentences used by some writers. The " long winded " sentences are tedious and tiresome, while the sentences just suited to a gentle respiration with its proper pulse or accent charms the ear and holds the atten- tion. BREATHING EXERCISES 43 BREATHING EXERCISES. In breathing, nearly all of the muscles of the trunk of the body, both front and back, should be brought into ac- tion . The diaphragm is the great motor muscle in breath . ing and to the training of this muscle as the center of the breath we now turn our attention. A study of the physi- ology of this muscle would be helpful at this point The active part of this muscle is in the middle of the organ. It has the power to contract and relax like a puckering string ; or it is a round muscle like the muscle around the mouth and can, like the mouth, pucker up at will, gently or forcibly. It is also an involuntary muscle and does its work so quietly many are never aware they own such a muscle ; but there it is waiting like a willing servant all ready to be trained for our service. Let us come into our possessions and train this dormant muscle and make of it a voluntary muscle, strong and active ready to help the breath, the circulation and the digestion. As we begin to train this muscle let us remember that " it is hard to teach an old dog new tricks. " With some the wrong way of taking the breath has become so settled and established through long practice, it is difficult to draw a breath save in the same old way. The involuntary is so much easier than the voluntary, besides the old servants cannot be turned out of business so easily. We also find that even when the new way is supposed to be settled and the new habit fixed, unconsciously the muscles fall back to the old way. There are a number of wrong ways with only one right way. The farther you travel on the wrong road, remember at this point, the farther you are from the destination — even farther away than before you ever start- ed. The old adage " Well begun is half done, " is partic- ularly applicable in learning the Breathing Exercises. 44 THE ART OF RENDERING To gain a consciousness of the Diaphragm and to secure a sense of relaxation of the muscles of the waist, practice the following panting exercise. Exercise I. Panting. Place the hands lightly at the waist line, with muscles relaxed, pant like a dog when he ia tired. This is to be done with the breath. Think to draw in the breath as if astonished or frightened, puff it out as if blowing out a candle. This may be practiced slowly at first then make the action rapidly when it becomes panting. Some find difficulty in the very simplicity of this exercise and fail be- cause of too great effort. Any such may practice the follow- ing to help in awakening the muscles used in the breathing exercises. Lie on the back with the clothing loose; place the hand on the waist in front ; raise and lower the hand by the inhaling and exhaling of the breath or panting as directed above. In beginning to train the diaphragm take some time, perhaps a week practicing daily the preliminary panting, and make sure of action of proper muscles before attempting other breathing exercises. Caution — Do not let the chest rise and fall in panting, keep it perfectly quiet with the action at the waist. The aim should be for a quiet chest in breathing. Aim also to gain more and more ability to relax the waist muscles and the diaphragm. Practice the panting a little in contrasting ways — the first named, with muscles of waist stiff, is wrong. First hold up the chest as high as possible, stiffen the waist, pant forcibly. Second, relax all possible, dropping the chest, pant easily and gently. " Shake the diaphragm down to a jelly. " Note the difference between the two ways- beware the first, cultivate the second. Work for a quiet chest, relaxed muscles at the waist, shaking like " jelly " the diaphragm. Breathing is an outgrowth of panting. BREATHING EXERCISES 45 Exercise II. Contracting and Expanding. Place the hands at the waist near the floating ribs, with the chest perfectly quiet. Contract slowly through two measures— 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. Expand through two measures — 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. Repeat both Contracting and Expanding. Count silently so the action of the mus- cles may move slowly and evenly. Aim to bring into action the same muscles and in the same way as in the Panting Exercises, save with slower movements. See page 26. Exercise HE. Hygienic Exercise. Lie flat on the back — the floor is a suitable place — with the body relaxed and dead still, save the breathing muscles, arms thrown over the head, or if too difficult, the hands may be placed at the waist as in the panting. Now slowly inhale, packing the lungs to their fullest capacity hold an instant, exhale slowly whispering " one, " prolong the breath as long as possible, at the last, contract the mus- cles tightly as if to squeeze out the last bit of air. Eelax slowly and evenly. Repeat the same whispering " two, " and so continue to repeat up to " fifty " when you will be conscious of the fact you have exercised. If too vigorous for one in feeble health, the number of counts may be less but not the energy. Each should exert his full strength. Practice the same exercise for the voice by substituting the vowels for the counts which may be given in different ways, either whispering, spoken aloud or shouted, as may also the counting. Blowing also may be substituted. This exercise is positive and immediate aid for indigestion. It immediately quickens the circulation, for it is exercise. The dyspeptic will find it better than medicine, for it brings the blood where it is needed to invigorate and give strength. For voice production train the breathing muscles till like bands of steel ; the diaphragm a muscle of resisting power. 46 THE ART OF RENDERING Exercise IV. With Breathing Pipe. Beside the work to develop the breathing mvxchs and streng- then them there must be practice to gain breath capacity and breath control. These three points are almost concen- trated in the following exercise with the Breathing Pipe. Let us remember that the voice is produced with the out- going breath; the active part of breathing is this exhallng, Too much breath sent out in making a tone destroys its purity. So work for breath control must advance with the increase in lung capacity. We may cultivate a muscle by training it to move slowly, evenly, with energy through the alternating extremes of relaxation and tension. A quick, jerky movement requires less strength than a slow, even movement. Applying this to the breathing muscles we find in order to control them and to secure slow even action while inhaling and exhaling we may gain much of the de- sired control by practice with a breathing pipe. A short piece of hollow reed or piece of a clay pipe stem may serve for a breathing pipe. Place this between the lips through which you may inhale and exhale. While this practice is through the mouth it is not to encourage mouth breath- ing but, more particularly, to train the diaphragm and other breathing muscles to send out a small, even, vigorous flow of breath. When inhaling through the nostrils it is quite impossible for one to take in a small stream of air. When one exhales through the mouth the breath is not easily con- trolled, before the muscles are trained, but comes with a puff over the vocal cords. In this, aim to inhale and to ex- hale a small, even, concentrated stream of breath and to train the breath organs that they may attain skill in per- forming all their work. To practice this exercise : after panting, place the breath- ing pipe between the lips ; inhale slowly at the same time raise both arms as in Inhaling, Exercise VII. Page 27. BREATHING EXERCISES 47 When the arms are lifted as high as possible and the lungs filled, hold an instant, — exhale slowly through the pipe as the arms are lowered. Pant,— Inhale,— Hold,— Exhale. Repeat five or six times at a practice time. Practice daily you may do so to advantage several times a day, in open air. One should be able to inhale from 30 to 45 seconds and to exhale the same length of time. The first efforts will be less than this. The beginner need not be discouraged if his best is only 10 seconds. Should it be so, here is an op- portunity to test what persistent effort will accomplish in a short space of time. In whatever stage of practice never try to do more than can be done without straining, lest there be injury instead of growth. It is more important to prolong the outgoing a little Ion. ger than the ingoing breath, for it is on the outgoing breath we send out the speech and song. As the prolonged exha- lation is more difficult for some than the inhalation, the ex- halation may be prolonged somewhat longer if the inhala- tion is not prolonged to the full limit of the capacity. Do all gently. Do not force the breath. There should be no sound. This exercise may be varied giving vigorous exercise for all the breathing muscles,especially the diaphragm, giving it sustaining power. Practice the same as that given above lifting a chair or some weight above the head while inhal- ing, lowering it while exhaling. The panting should be taken while bending over the back of the chair before the inhaling and lifting it at arm's length overhead. To this drill with the chair may be substituted voice exercises in the place of exhaling through the pipe as the arms are lowered. Remember, in voice production it is not so much how full you are able to fill the lungs with air as how to manage and control it when you come to spend it Skill comes through repetition, repetition, repetition. 48 THE ART OF RENDERING THE VOICE. " The voice is like an orchestra. It ranges high up, and can shriek like the scream of an eagle j or it is low as a lion's tone; and at every intermediate point is some peculiar quality. It has in it the mother's whisper and the father's command. It has in it warning and alarm. It has in it sweetness. It is full of mirth and full of gaiety. Itglitters f though it is not seen with all its sparkl ing fancies. It ranges high, intermediate or low, in obedience to the will, uncon- scious to him who uses it ; and men listen through the long hour, wondering that it is so short, and quite unaware that they have been bewitched out of their weariness by the charm of a voice, not artifical, not prearranged in man's thought, but by assiduous training made to be his second nature. Such a voice answers the soul, and is its beating. " Henry Ward Beecker. " There is no power of love so hard to get and keep as a kind voice. A kind hand is deaf and dumb. It may be rough in flesh and blood, yet do the work of a soft heart, and do it with a soft touch. But there is no one thing that love so much needs as a sweet voice to tell what it means and feels ; and it is hard to get and keep it in the right tone. One must start in youth, and be on the watch night and day, at work and play, to get and keep a voice that shall speak at all times the thoughts of a kind heart. It is often in youth that one gets a voice or a tone that is sharp, and it sticks to him through life, and stirs up ill will and grief, and falls like a drop of gall on the sweet of home. Watch it day by day as a pearl of great price, for it will be worth more to you in days to come than the best pearl hid in the seas. A kind voice is to the heart as light is to the eye. It is a light that sings as well as shines- " Elihu Burritt. THE VOICE 49 There is nothing in the nature of man more intimately connected with his happiness than the human voice. By it we may manifest our desires and feelings, hold communi- cation with our friends and convey to them words of cheer hope and encouragement. By the aid of the voice we ob- tain instruction, and by its aid we may impart it to others. In business life, in public life, in the home circle the voice is daily employed ; should we bestow on it a passing thought we would find it is of tenfold the importance we had ever once given it. " There is no one thing in man that he has in perfection till he has it by culture. " " The Voice in rudimentary state, is like an image leav- ing the mould; a canvas with the design, without the em- broidery; the mere outline of an instrument ; a body with- out a soul. " FIRST STEPS IN VOICE CULTURE. The first steps in Voice Culture are quite the same as the first steps toward purchasing a grand piano. Do not mis- understand — purchasing a piano. Not having it given, but having to personally earn the means for it. Having no instrument, no money, no capital save a desire to own so great a treasure. If the desire be genuine and strong the other difficulties soon vanish. So the first steps in voice culture must be a high ideal to awaken a desire. This must be more than a burst of schoolgirl enthusiasm, but a deep, settled longing after an inborn ideal, strong enough to cost sacrifice and make one willing to do genuine hard work. Voice Culture cannot be given only as the learner is able to take. Begin this study then with lofty ideals, for we must ever remember : water never rises higher than its source, As the study advances, it charms and grows ideals Second inourstudv comes a knowledge of the instrument. 50 THE ART OF RENDERING ORGANS OF VOICE. While the human voice has been compared to an orches- tra, yet when we consider the instrument, it is like an organ with its bellows, its vibrating tongues, its body to modify the tone. Briefly stated : voice is produced by the air from the lungs passing over the vocal cords, being modified by the cavities of the mouth and nose. The vocal cords are in structure, a bundle of elastic tissues, covered with mucus membrane, in color a pearly white. They are capable of won'derful rapidity of motion. Average length in man a little more than \ inch, in woman some less. As in the violin, the more the cords are tightened the higher the tone ; the more the cords are slackened the lower the tone. The glottis is the opening between the vocal cords. The high tones with tense cords make the chink of the glottis narrow. The low tones with the cords relaxed give wide opening of the glottis. The medium tones make the medium opening of the chink of the glottis. The larynx is the expanded upper end of the trachea or windpipe. The Larynx may be depressed to produce a low tone — for the deepest tone it may be depressed \ inch. For the highest tones the larynx may rise \ inch. Resonance of the voice depends on the cavities of the mouth, nose and chest, making a secondary vibration with the vocal cords. The vibration of the vocal cords is mod- ified and mellowed by these resonators as the violin body is made to vibrate with the strings, or the box of the piano with its strings. The resonance modifying the first tone may also be illustrated by a tuning fork. Ring it, listen; hold it against the table. Ring it again, hold it against a glass; again, now against a silver bell ; against different THE VOICE 51 objects and note how the same tone from this tuning fork is changed in quality by the article it touches. Note also how hard substance gives a clearer ring than soft substance. Ring the tuning fork once more, place it against a silver bell ; again, now against a rubber ball. Let us remember for our profit this simple fact : hard substance modifies the tone giving a clear ringing sound while soft substance gives a mutHed, deadened sound. In taking advantage of this self evident, simple fact and right use of the breath lie the secrets of voice development Think again how the voice is formed : the breath passing over the vocal cords giving a sound like the tuning fork but what we hear in the voice is modified by the mouth cavity, nose and chest. Let us examine some of these modifiers and find out what kind of substance thty are made of- We find in the front of the roof of the mouth a hard, firm bone, in the back of the mouth quite the opposite, soft yielding substance. We may naturally decide that it makes quite a difference which of the two vibrates with the vocal cords, the front or the back of the mouth, for the difference in substance is as the silver bell compared with the rubber ball. Let us learn to use this bone in the front of the mouth, called the nares, as the resonator instead of the back of the mouth, for it is the hard- est, firmest bone in the body. Let us think of the nares as the center of the voice. The voice being allowed to fall back into the throat for resonance accounts for the cause of so many poor voices and for the cause of many forms of throat disorders. Throat diseases of a chronic character are relieved and cured by training the resonance of the voice to focus in the hard bone in the front of the mouth. This fact concerning the resonance in the front of the mouth is no longer kept a guarded secret, being bequeathed as a legacy and sold for fabulous prices, but its value is still unchanged and here it is revealed, free for your profit. 52 THE ART OF RENDERING Rule, — Front tones are human ; back tones are animal. Tone made to vibrate in the front of the mouth may be made " clear as a silver bell, " with wonderful car- rying power, because it is musical. The tones formed in the throat are dull and rasping, harsh noises, requiring far greater exertion and, consequently, soon cause fatigue. The front tones are produced with perfect ease and like the rare old violin, grow sweeter with age. We can well afford to give careful study to this point of resonance. There are three essentials in producing tone, either with a musical instrument or the human voice, — a motive ele- ment, — a vibratory element, — a resonant element. In the organ the power that operates the bellows is the motor ele- ment The reeds or little tongues are the vibrant element. The body of the organ, with certain parts, specially arranged for that purpose is the resonant element. In the violin the hand that wields the bow is the motor, the strings the vibrant, the body of the violin the resonant. In the piano the motor element is in the fingers that strike the keys causing little hammers to strike the strings which are the vibratory element. The vibrations of the strings are modified by the body of the piano and the space within it, making it mellow and resonant. The quality of the tone may be changed by lifting the top of the piano. The human voice is much like the organ. The Motor element is the diaphragm, — the Vibrant element, the vocal cords; the mouth and nasal cavities, the chest and other parts of the body are the Resonant element. The organ builder gives careful and patient attention to adjusting all parts, that the bellows may be ample in size and just strong enough for the work it is to do — that the power that furnishes the air works evenly and vigorous- ly — that the vibrating tongues or reeds have free play — that nothing obstructs the sound after it is once produced. VIBRATORY ORGANS OF VOICE 1. Vocal Cords 3. Pharynx 5. Hard Palate 2. Larynx 4- Trachea TENSION OP VOCAL CORDS 1. High Pitch 2. Low Pitch 3. Medium Pitch THE VOICE 53 Then beside all this, much care and thoughtful attention must be given to the resonant body : the pipes, the stops; how to reinforce and modify all into a harmony pleasing and musical. We can hardly say too muchof the importance of develop- ing the lungs to their fullest capacity. It is surprising how readily the lungs may be expanded, sometimes to dou- ble their undeveloped capacity. A great lung capacity without corresponding breath control, especially the out- going breath, is of no advantage to the voice. Too much wind forced against the reeds of the organ makes the tone wheezy and impure. Too much air from the lungs gives a breathy, labored tme in either speech or song. VIBRATORY AGENTS OF THE VOICE. The culture of the Vibratory agents of the voice, the vocal cords, is left largely to the soul that must play upon these mystic strings with thought and feeling, yet teachers of voice attempt to give exercises for tensioning the vocal cords — for the stroke of the glottis etc. This particular, delicate work best be taken under the direction of a careful, experienced teacher. The Larynx may be exercised by use of the following — e- ( as in eve ) a- ( as in father. ) oo- f as in boon.) Larynx may be lowered on e, a, oo. Larynx may be raised on oo, A, e. The drill to develop resonance in the nares.and the drill for dynamic, proper breathing,reward the student's efforts with immediate results indicating a start and growth most encouraging, when the exercises have been faithfully taken. In the efforts to focus the voice in the front of the mouth the student may know and feel the vibrations distinctly. To illustrate and leave no room for blunder, the student is asked to hold lightly the bridge of the nose, closing thenos- 54 THE ART OF RENDERING trils, pronounce " knee, knee, knee, " observe the little vi- bration or buzz in the nose against the fingers. This kind of tingle, buzz, or ring or vibration of .the hard bone just back of the upper, front teeth is what we should aim to se- cure. The vowel formed farthest front is long e. Repeat " e, e, e, " many times rapidly and note the vibrations in the front of the mouth. Caution. In working for this quality in the voice, while practicing the following exercises, there are two important points to observe — Do not practice any of this series of voice building exercises forcibly. Gently, gently. Loudness overshoots the mark. Noise is not music. Force tensions the muscles of the throat and pinches off the vibrations and defeats the whole effort. The second point is more difficult than the first, — Start the tone with the breath, snuff it through the nose as if gently blowing thistle down or some airy substance through the nose. Whisper the exercise first then make the tone, always as gently as possible. VOICE EXERCISES. Exercise I. Hold the nose, practice up and down the scale, letting go the nose on the seventh note coming down the scale when the tone should ring clear. Practice " knee, " knee knee knee knee knee knee kn ee knee knee knee knee knee knee knee knee knee VOICE EXERCISES 55 Exercise II, Practice " hng " up and down the scale, letting it ring in the roof of the mouth and the nasal cavity. Let the mouth come well open, wide enough to insert between the teeth the width of the first and second fingersXet the lower jaw hang lifeless, the throat open as if to yawn. Inhale through the nose, making one breath last as long as possible. hug hng hng hng" hng hng hng hng hng hng hng hng hng hng hng hng Exercise III. Practice the same as Exercise II. " hng-ah-nah " up and down the scale. Exercise IV. Practice up and down the scale with much lip action. " Mnome. " Exercise V. Practice with much lip action on three pitches, the voice medium, high and low — " Most men want poise and more royal margin. " Exercise VI. Say lightly on different scales and pitches, prolonging at the close " ah. " " 1, % 3, 4, 5, 6, ah. " Exercise VII. Practice saying and singing on different pitches, prolong- ing " o " and " en " in " golden, golden, golden, golden." 56 THE ART OF RENDERING Open the mouth that the tone may come out. You may as well place the hand over the mouth in producing tone as to keep the mouth closed or the jaws near together. The tone so is muffled and shorn of carrying power. A device for opening the mouth used by some teachers gives an idea of the position of the jaws for the leading vowels. The ivory wedge to place between the teeth while making a tone is 2\ inches long at the base, 1$ inches at the long end and J inch on the short end with 18 notches on the upper edge. With this wedge we may test ourselves and find what we are able to do, though we should not use it in voice drill as it would cause unnatural action of the muscles. A pronounced as in the word father opens the jaws the widest, as measured by the ivory wedge, 10 to 14 notches. o as in rose from 8 to 12 notches. a as in pale from 4 to 6 notches. oo as in coo, from 6 to 8 notches. e as in see the least open Order of exercise — A, o, A, oo, e Sounds as above A as in father is the vowel on which the voice should be most frequently exercised. Practice also lists of woids with the following vowels j ( o as in moan. ( e as in breeze. A as in ah. * j A as in day. oo as in moon. * A as in that. u as in use. f e as in end. r as in night. '"j i as in it. TT HQ in 11T1 V rw no !« ^v u as in up. ' oy as in joy. i in loud. 1. a.k as in air. | ou & ow as ii •i A as in and. VOICE EXERCISES 57 The speech organs are passive in the vowels and active in the consonants. The tongue must be trained to lie flat in the mouth and not be allowed to take a whale-back shape in the back or middle of the mouth ; rather the reverse shape. This is the unruly member, but it must not be allowed to rise up and obstruct the tone. While it is unruly, exercise with a mirror shows it too can be trained. The throat must be open and free. A stiff jaw puts a strain on the throat and closes it, giving hard tones and makes voice production tiresome and injurious to the throat mangles the words, making them indistinct. A complete list of exercises for each set of muscles sepa- rately might be given for opening the mouth, for lowering the tongue, for opening the throat, for relaxing the jaw, but all may be condensed into one simple exercise, thus saving time and producing better results. Yawning relaxes all the muscles of the throat and jaw, relaxes and flattens the tongue and opens the mouth. In practicing — draw in the breath, yawn, making the throat pear shaped. Now the muscles are in readiness for voice exercises. Still another idea to secure relaxation, open throat and open mouth : try to think the lower jaw is useless in making tone. It is physical, so drop the jaw and tongue as if not needed, especially in song ; the voice being produced above the larynx then resounding in the roof of the mouth. The lips must not be allowed to be drawn tightly over the teeth as they slightly prevent the unobstructed tone. Practice with a smile to lift the lip from the teeth. Let it be a smile from within and from the eyes ; not altogether a «' grin. " With a clear passage from the vocal cords, tone has the right of way and will grow in strength and beauty. 58 THE ART OF RENDERING After once securing a clear understanding of the reasons of the foregoing Voice Exercises, all may be summed up in short gymnastics of the voice to be used in daily voice drill, requiring only a few minutes at each practice time. Daily, systematic work, even though little time is given to it, will yield better results than irregular exercise. Repetition, rep- etition, repetition with thoughtful practice will transform the natural into the cultured, beautiful, responsive voice. Remember " the constant dropping wears the rock. " In this brief space we have not exhausted the subject of voice exercise, but have given the fewest possible of the best and the most essential exercises for voice building. ORDER OF DADLY VOICE DRILL. I. Panting. II. Breathing Exercise. ( Exercise IV. with pipe.) III. Voice Exercise I — " knee. " IV. Voice Exercise II — " hng. " V. Voice Exercise III — " hng-ah-nah. " VI. Voice Exercise IV — " mnome. " VII. Voice Exercise V — " most men want poise. " VIII. Voice Exercise VI— « 1,2, 3,4,5,6, ah." IX. Voice Exercise VII — " golden. " Practice the above voice exercises with the relaxed, pear shaped throat as if ready to yawn. Take the panting be- fore each breathing and before each voice exercise. Keep up the breathing exercises, the work for resonance, for the proper action of the jaw, tongue, lips, and throat. Do not be discouraged because of the many things to be done. Take plenty of time to do this work well, giving the voice time enough to grow and become established. It is to be your own for life. It necessarily requires time to train these delicate, wonderful muscles of the voice to respond in a new THE VOICE 59 way, naturally. "We may be surprised to find how readily the muscles go back to the old way of producing tone, es- pecially is this true when one is not in the best humor. The old muscles are so used to responding they spring into action before one is aware. Much may be gained by silent practice, by thought, and by gently whispering and humming the voice exercises, using care to bring into play the proper muscles as when practicing aloud. The whispering and humming have the advantage of no strain on the throat. In the early part of this work do not use the voice in singing or speaking care- lessly or loudly, but treat the voice organs while learn- ing, to yield themselves to be awakened and trained as deli- cate creatures, newly born requiring gentle nurture in their infancy. It is best to leave the heavier exercises of the voice — especially the impure qualities found in some readings, till the voice has become well established. But should it be found necessary to do some of this heavy work, the voice may be saved much strain by putting the expres- sion on to the body instead of the voice. To illustrate — In the quarrel scene between Cassius and Brutus in Shake- speare's " Julius Caesar, " Cassius says, — " Urge me no more, I shall forget myself : have mind upon your health, tempt me no further. " In this threat the muscles of the body should be tense, the fists clenched in anger. This bodily action relieves the voice and is as if the expression were from life and natural ; but if in making this angry threat the muscles are relaxed and the strain of this assumed feeling comes on the voice this agent of expression would be overloaded and thereby injured. Should it be necessary to overload any part, let it be the large muscles of the body as in gesture rather than the most delicate muscles of all, the muscles of the voice. Let the action of the body lead. This helps to give natural expression to the voice. 60 THE ART OF RENDERING We may wonder why we are hedged in with such caution as to the use of the voice but a child can kick and scream all day and come out with a voice uninjured for the next day. Let an adult try to imitate the child's cry and he has rasped the throat and made himself hoarse in five min- utes. It would seem in this the child has superior skill to the man. But the child obeys natures laws and kicks and screams all over. The man screams only with his throat which is unnatural to put on the voice alone. The child's scream comes from his innermost, from the man it is a cry " put on, " so it instantly makes him hoarse. Great care should be exercised in expressing the baser passions and emotions. No person should undertake to render selections of this character who has a throat trouble, only as the body is able to lead in the expression. * The mechanical drill and gymnastics of the voice are of great value which may be increased by associating noble thought and feeling with the practice for voice building, but all artistic, magnetic effects come from the thought and feeling, expressions of the mind and soul. Let us think of the vibrations and resonance of the voice as the physical medium — the telegraph wire, if you please, over which travel the magnetic messages from the mind and soul. Though the voice be the medium, important as it is, yet the messages to be sent out are far greater. The voice is the mystic hand with which we reach out from our minds and souls and touch the very minds and souls of those around us. If the spirit within be gentle and filled with the love of human welfare, then will the touch of this hand be most gracious and charming, blessing whatever it touches, and attracting by its magnetic sweetness. If, on the other hand, the life within be a den of wild beasts, then the touch of the voice will be as the sting of the serpent, the growl, the snarl that cause anxiety and fear. THE VOICE 61 Voice culture should begin with soul and mind culture and should end -with mind and soul culture. The voice is like the perfume of a flower, subtle and mysterious in its influence, yet ever certain in effectiveness. A beautiful voice is more to be coveted than costly jewels, yet is within the reach of nearly every person who will appreciate its worth and cultivate the voice organs and develop the latent possibilities within. A good voice is often thought to be a gift. In reality, vocal cords, diaphragm and voice organs are gifts common to all. All own a musical instrument far superior to any mechanical instrument ever produced by mechanical skill, in the human voice. No one has a right to own a disagreeable voice, when a little study and drill will result in improvement to any one. The student will note as he progresses that the more res- onant the voice grows the less breath is used in making tone. Breath control helps to make the voice resonant. It will be found that breathing exercises aid the voice and voice exercises aid the breath. The progress of both may be tested by inhaling and counting aloud as far as possible. Volume of voice : deep, rich tones should be cultivated. Chest resonance should be cultivated with resonance of the nares. Chest resonance may be felt by placing the hand on the chest and in lowest pitch repeat " awe, awe, awe. " Volume of voice comes from the mind side. Drill for this element of voice is found under Volume of Voice in the " Studies in Rendering. " Scientific experiments reveal the fact that there are flow- ers of speech not only in a literary but in a real sense made by vibrations of the voice. The cultured voice vibrates in waves producing varied flowers and geometric shapes. The following illustrations are of the voice vibrations on a delicate film, given in the famous lecture " Harp of the Senses, " by John B. DeMotte, A. M. Ph. D. 62 THE ART OF RENDERING GESTURE. Gesture may be defined as muscular expression, also as visible expression. Gesture is the interpreter of the emo- tions ; it is the language of the soul. Gesture appeals to the innermost soul of the beholder. Gesture is an elliptical language given to man to express what speech is power- less to say. There is something marvelous in the language of gesture. " A gesture, like a ray of light, can reflect all there is in the soul. " It has relations with another sphere. It is the world of grace. " Gesture is carving in the air. " Gesture is magnetic. Gesture is soul communicating with soul. It is even more than music, or any other form of ex- pression, a universal language. Gesture is the ancestor of the word and goes before it to foretell its coming. Of the three modes of manifesting thought. — word, voice, gesture — gesture stands the highest. It is the language of our highest nature. It makes appeal to the highest by way of the finest of the senses, the eye. Some may not at first see the way clear to accept the statement concerning the rank of gesture as compared with voice and the spoken word but study will convince one of the importance of this subtle language. Culture of the muscles and how to speak through them require special study and exercise, for skill can no more be attained, without effort, than skill of a pianist can be acquired through the study of mere theory. In this, one becomes by doing. The gesture language is not so much with many a " dead language " as a dormant language. " The body needs educating as well as the mind. " A person without this physical education, even though he may have the mental, should not presume to set himself up as an authority being guided by his own blind fancy, a case of V 4 1 KSHS l V; *■ ■ ■ ■ u<4 * 'fcSCS ! .*■* .*' &? "■» ^ Impressions made by VIBRATIONS OF VOICE on a delicate film Photographed from experiments with the voice in the laboratory of of Prof . John B. DeMotte, A. M., M. D., Ph. D. and reproduced here by his permission. GESTURE 63 the blind leading the blind, an invasion not to be tolerated in any other department of study. A thorough knowledge of this muscular language requires careful investigation as that of anatomy by the student of medicine before he can secure his M. D. The medical student must dissect and examine the muscles themselves, while the student of ex- pression must study the action of the muscles under the influence of endless emotions playing upon them. He also must study this subject in a twofold manner — as self ex- pression and as the impression the gesture makes on the listener or beholder. Gesture is important in that it reveals the noble emotions of the soul. As we manifest our noble emotions through the muscles we also cultivate and refine the feelings while we cultivate the muscles. Gesture makes its appeal to the highest of the five senses, the eye. That which offends the eye cannot be tolerated. But what charms the eye will allow other defects to pass. " If the gesture is good, the most wretched speaker is tolerated. " By gesture we do not mean gesticulating with some part of the body — the hand and arm, for instance, with the rest of the body dead still. Such action is a spasm rather than gesture. One definition of the word muscle is " a little mouse." The ancients compared the action of the muscles to mice under the skin. We may use this ancient idea to illustrate a principle of value in gesture. Suppose one mouse be- came frightened and bristled with fear; we can readily see what the result would be should there be more than two hundred of them instead of one expressing the same thing. Should there be a single one in the number that kept it- self inactive while all the others were wild with action, we could but think it stupid or asleep or dead. With the per- son whose muscles have not been awakened it happens that 64 THE ART OF RENDERING the two hundred or more are asleep with one awake and active to respond to the feeling. This is an imperfect ex- pression. We may sum up the whole matter into a Law — The highest expression results when the greatest num- ber of muscles unite in harmonious action. There would be a decided lack of harmony, if some of the muscles were inactive, others stiffened with chronic pride or anxiety. Any effort to secure a harmony of action has its reward in feelings of poise and self possession. We may simplify this complicated study of gesture by dividing it up under headings — the culture of the mus- cles — a knowledge of Expression. A knowledge of expression would include self expression and the ability to interpret in others. We should also be ableito know some- thing of the kind of impression an expression is likely to make or does make on the listener or beholder. The first named, the culture of the muscles is treated under the chap- ter on Physical Culture. The second, the study of Expres- sion has an almost limitless field. We may say, wherever we find life we find some kind of expression worthy of our attention ; and all the Arts, especially music, painting and sculpture. Of great importance is the study of human ex- pression from life on the streets, in public or private, any- where. Children, animals and even birds offer a rich field. It is well to keep a note book for this purpose also a scrap book for reproductions of paintings and artistic pictures and photographs from life. Studies of statuary and works of the masters help one to form correct ideals ; then with a free body, natural expression should result, after the laws of expression and the ideals are established in the subjective mind. A careful study of laws of expression can not be over estimated. We should so prize the truth as to be willing to accept it though it may not be of some favorite system. Delsarte's Nine Laws of Gesture contain much LAW OF MOTION 65 from a Philosophy of great value in all the fine arts. In substance they are as follows. LAW OF MOTION. Motion is force expending itself. Gesture is the mus- cular action by which the soul expresses itself. There are three kinds of motion: — Eccentric or from the center. Concentric or toward the center. Poised or balanced. All thought or feeling is either of self or something outside of self or a ^lending together of the two. Thought about any thins; outside of self requires 'ec- centric motion. Thought about self requires concentric motion. Thought about self and something outside of self at the same time requires poised motion. Eccentric motion is in harmony with the physical side of the being. It has to do with objective thought. Concentric motion is subjective and has to do with concentric, mental states. Poised motion is expressive of exalted moods and noble emotions. Examples of Eccentric Motion, — Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain storm ! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds ! Ye signs and wonders of the elements ! Utter forth God and fill the hills with praise. Coleridge 66 THE ART OF RENDERING " The battle, the battle ! How goes the battle? " " Be it said in letters both bold and bright : Here is the steed that saved the day By carrying Sheridan into the fight From Winchester — twenty miles away. " Examples of Concentric Motion. " The tender tune, faint floating, plays, In moonlit lays, a melody of other days. " " O Hamlet speak no more : Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul : And there I see such black and grained spots As will not leave their tinct. " Examples of Poised Motion. " My heart is awed within me, when I think Of the great miracle that still goes on In silence round me, — the perpetual work Of thy creation, finished yet renewed forever. " " My lord, if you ask me, if in my life-time I thought any treason, or did any crime That should call to my cheek, as I stand alone here, The hot blush of shame or the coldness of fear, Though I stood by the grave to receive my death-blow, Before God and the world I would answer you, no I " " My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep ; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite. " Passion tends to expansion. Thought tends to con- traction. Love or affection moderates gesture. LAW OF VELOCITY 67 LAW OF VELOCITY. Velocity is in proportion to the mass moved and the force moving it. Sublime sentiment with profound ap- preciation moves slowly. Light feeling moves rapidly. Examples of Slow Movement, — And slowly, slowly, more and more, The moony vapor rolling around the king, Who seem'd the phantom of a giant in it, Enwound him fold by fold, and made him grey And greyer, till himself became as mist Before her, moving ghost-like to his doom. Tennyson. " It must be by his death and for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him, But for the general. He would be crown 'd. .... What he is, augmented, Would run to these and these extremities : And therefore, think him as a serpent's egg which, Hatched, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, And kill him in the shell. " " The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firma- ment showeth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard. " The above lines read by a careless schoolboy would move more rapidly than if rendered by one who could compre- hend and appreciate the full value of the thought Whatever the sentiment the above law holds good. In speech large bodies move slowly. Superficial sentiment moves lightly as in the following examples. 68 THE ART OF RENDERING Examples of Rapid Movement. " Fill again to the brim ! again to the brim J For water strengthened life and limb ! To the days of the aged it addeth length, To the might of the strong it addeth strength ; It freshens the heart, it brightens the sight, ' Tis like quaffing a goblet of morning light ! " " Oh, the buxom girls that help the boys, The nobler Helens of the humbler Troys As they strip the husk with rustling fold From eight rowed corn as yellow as gold, By the candle-light, in pumpkin bowls, And the gleams that showed fantastic holes In the quaint old lantern's tattooed tin, From the hermit glim set up within ; By the rarer light in girlish eyes As dark as wells, or as blue as skies. " LAW OF DIRECTION. The lengths are vital. The heights and depths are mental. The breadths are emotive. Concentration tends toward our selfish states, while giving out and going out of self corresponds to our benevolent states. Example of Vital Action in Lengths. Lie still, lie still I till I lean o'er And clutch your red blade to the shore. Ha, ha ! Take that, and that, and that 1 Ha ! ha ! So through your coward throat The full day shines ! Jaquin Miller. Down Eros ! Up Mars ! Chariot Race." BeruHur. " LAW OF DIRECTION 69 In meditation and other thoughtful moods the eyes seek the blue — either the height of the blue sky or the depth of the blue water. Examples of Mental Action in Heights and Depths, — When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained ; what is man that Thou art mindful of him? and the son of man that Thou visitest him? Contemplation. Pialms VIIL " Ah, once more, " I cried, " ye stars, ye waters, On my heart your mighty charm renew ; Still, still let me as I gaze upon you, Feel my soul becoming vast like you ! " " Self. Dependence. " Matthew Arnold. Examples of Benevolent Action in Breadths , — " These glorious truths shall be diffused throughout the whole earth. " " The Lord doth build up Jerusalem : He gathereth to- gether the outcasts of Israel. He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds. " LAW OF KEACTION. Action and reaction are equal. Extreme emotion tends to react to its opposite. Elasticity, spring and a tendency to rebound ate marks of life. Examples of reaction are found in expressions of admiration : a painter admiring his work would re- act away from it. In anger there is a recoil before the blow. In milder emotions action and reaction are equal. 70 THE ART OF RENDERING LAW OF FORM. Forms bounded by straight lines are vital in their significance. Forms bounded by curved lines are mental and re- flective. This subject will be found treated further under the heading — " Significance of Lines, " in " Science of Speech," page 42. Examples of Vital Action in Straight Lines, — " Charge for the golden lilies, upon them with the lance. " " Then clasp me round the neck once more, and give me one more kiss ; And now, my own dear little girl, there is no way but this. " With that, he lifted high the steel, and smote her in the side, And in her blood she sank to earth, and with one groan she died. " The Fate of Virginia. " T. B. Macaulay, Mental gestures may trace out all the lines of geom- etry, — circles, illustrate shapes, measure, indicate lines. The mystic is suggested in the motion of smoke. u And my prayer like a perfume from censers Ascendeth to God night and day. " " And the glory of the Lord abode upon mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it six days. . . . And the sight of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mount in the eyes of the children of Israel- " " And Aaron shall burn thereon sweet Id cense every morning when he dresseth the lamps. " Exodus, 24, 30. LAW OF SEQUENCE 71 LAW OF OPPOSITION. " In opposition of the agents of expression is the harmony of gesture. Harmony is born of contrasts. From opposition, equilibrium is born in turn. Equi- librium is the great law of gesture and condemns par- allelism. " In so far as we observe this law may we have grace of motion. Opposition is the balance of parts around the center of gravity. In gesture the chest should be the center of balance. The greater the number of agents of expression acting in harmonious opposition the higher the form of expression. Study poise in ideal figures in paintings and statuary observing oppositions of head and hand, — of all parts of of the body. LAW OF SEQUENCE. Impression precedes expression. We must have be- fore lie can give,, and give in the order of having. The eye is the central agent of expression. The eye leads in expression, next the face, head, hands, then the rest of the body, the word last. If the expression be vital it is expressed in shorter time than if emotive. Vital springs into action quickly. Mental takes time to consider. The emotive is influenced by both mental and vital. It is second to the vital in point of time. The gestures of the face should make those of the arm forgotten. 72 THE ART OF RENDERING NUMBER OF GESTURES. Gestures should not be too numerous. We are moved by only one sentiment at a time ; it is useless to multi- ply gestures. But one gesture is needed for the expres- sion of an entire thought. The gesture is not to express the inord, but the thought. As much expression as is possible should be given to the face. LAW OF FORCE. Weakness takes a strong attitude and strength takes a weak attitude. This law applies to the mental and to the moral life as well as to the physical life. RHYTHM. Rhythm is the measure of time or motion in regularly recurring impulses or accents, -as in poetry and music. In gesture it is the inflection with the unfolding of the parts of the body as the action passes ovet it from joint to joint. Rhythm of gesture is subjective and objetive. Objective rhythm is expresswe of the vital nature. Examples of Objective Rhythm may be found in various expressions, — it delights in beating time with a sharp ac- cent, as in ragtime music. As to gesture, the accent is eccentric, outward. The stroke is as in the old calisthenics, and as in certain gestures known as " sledge hammer " and " pump handle " gestures and gestures often used to " pound " the Word, rather than to expound it. Children and savages and natures where the vital is in the ascenden- cy delight in this outward stroke or Objective Rhythm. SUBJECTIVE RHYTHM 73 Subjective Rhythm is a manifestation of the mental and emotive natures. It expresses itself in subtle pul- sations from the center with a return to the center. Pulsations of motion correspond to pulsations of emotion. Subjective Rhythm delights in the artistic — literature, music, heavy and light, making rhythmic inflections. Subjective Rhythm may be likened to a person who when expressing a thought is mindful of its impression on the listener. The thought sent out returns to its source but is colored in the mind of the speaker with the impression it has made. Objective Rhythm is like the person who speaks hit or miss, unmoved as to the impression it makes. One thing is sent out, nothing returns. It is like the child who delights himself pounding with a stick, even to the dis- traction of sensitive nerves, is unmoved and satisfied so long as he may give vent to his animal spirits. Applied to gesture, Subjective Rhythm starts from the center with impulses in turn from each of the bodily agents of expression in natural sequence. For example : the bow begins with a look from the eye. The start in giving the feeling of respect is sent out from the lower chest as a cen- ter', passes to the head, the hands, the feet ; then the body returns to position with the chest lifting or leading back to the erect position. DIRECTION OP GESTURE. It has been said that man stands on one globe and bears another on his shoulders. We may say he lives within a globe limited by his reach from the soles of his feet to the arm's reach overhead and to the tips of the fingers with the arms reaching horizontally. Our gestures are made to correspond with this globe in which we live. 74 THE ART OF RENDERING This globe of which we are the center may be divided into three general divisions, — the Zone of the Superior, the Zone of the Inferior, the Zone of Equality. The .Zone of the Superior is the region of the Beautiful, the Good, the True, Faith, Hope, Love, Heaven, the dwell- ing place of God, the Positive Pole. The Zone of the Inferior is the region of the Bad, the False, the Ugly, the Uncertain, the Occult, the Evil, Fear, Unbelief, Hate, the abode of the Evil One, the Negative Pole. The Zone of Equality is the region of Here, Now, the Real, Zone of the Senses, Material Things, Our Fellows on our own plane. Zone of Superior corresponds to Ascending, — Zone of the Inferior to Descending, — Zone of Equality to the Horizontal in Law XCIII, page 144 " Science of Speech." FINESSE OF GESTURE. Suggestions of a subtle and delicate character often make a strong appeal, especially is this true of that which appeals to any of the five senses. The finders may indicate different kinds o£ surface as hard like marble, delicate as velvet, the feel of granulated or powdered substance, temperature, hot and cold. Each of the five senses may play an important part in gesture. Touch can suggest heat, cold, hardness, softness, rough- ness, smoothness, figure, solidity, motion, extension, agree- able, gentle heat, stroke of a soft body — fur, a zephyr. Smell may suggest the odor of flowers, perfumes, etc. In offensive odors an effort is made to close the nostrils, to hold the nose, to snuff the offensive odor out of the nos- trils. The unpleasant odor is rejected, scorned. In the impolite " turning up the nose " is an effort to close the nose. FINESSE OF GESTURE 75 Taste has a part to play in expression. Bitter taste af- fects the back part of the tongue; sour affects the front or near the middle ; sweet the tip of the tongue ; salt the ex- treme tip of the tongue. Figurative language that refers to the taste is expressed as tasting of the literal things them- selves. We speak of " bitter experiences, " " sour words," " sweet child. " We " smack the lips " and the " mouth waters, " some things " set the teeth on edge. " We puff out of the mouth that which is distasteful. Pooh ! Pshaw ! Hearing is an exalted sense. Various sounds in life, in nature may be suggested, pleasant and unpleasant. The impression of the imaginary sounds demands a response as well as what the eye sees. The eye and the ear are the leading avenues of impression, and enter largely into all gesture. The eye is the central agent of expression. BEARINGS, ATTITUDES, INFLECTIONS. The bearing is the air, the mien, behavior, deportment, the habitual carriage of the body. Attitude is an arrest of motion. A gesture held for a moment is an attitude. Inflections are little gestures, movements of the head the brows, the mouth, expressions of the hands, and fingers. The public speaker, the singer the musician may awak- en his own feelings and cultivate the emotions by throwing the body strongly into the attitude necessary to portray the desired emotion which is not always ready to respond. Repeat over and over. You may overdo in practice and work up a background of fervor, then the public perform- ance may be with few gestures. Acquire a broad knowledge of Laws of Expression and well trained responsive body. 76 THE ART OF RENDERING DUAL FORM OF STUDY OF EXPRESSION. Scientific. Artistic. Theory. Practice. We may avoid confusion in the study of this many sided subject, and bring harmony out of what would otherwise be confusion by dividing the whole subject into the Scientific and the Artistic. By the Scientific we mean a knowledge of the Laws however. 80 long as they do sing, they sing their best. But in spite of that, the autumnal performance on the whole is pathetic. For they choose mournful themes ; they sing of the golden summer that is gone, and their music shudders with the dread of frosty nights and the cruel win- ter that is coming; they play dirges for their dead comrades; they sing of purple aster and royal golden-rod ; the plumy lances of the iron weed in old meadows; the yellow prim- 112 THE ART OF RENDERING rose, gleaming like stars in the gray twilight; the ghostly thistle-down,dtifting over the reedy marshes where the fire- flies died ; of grotesque shadows in the old stump lot ; of cold winds, creeping with eerie whispers across the fields where the corn stands in ragged shocks with stiffened blades ; of wheeling colonies of summer birds that flecked the fields with restless shadows as they gathered the clans together and sped away to the gayety of the winter resorts ; of faded ferns in the glens, of withered grasses in the fence corners and blighted flowers in the old-fashioned gardens, until at last the merry voices cease, all the daughters of music are brought low, the last little soloist sings his good-bye song with a brave little trill in his far-reaching voice, and goeth the way of all grasshoppers. * * * * So he sings for us in the lengthening nights. And as he sings, some there are in his audience who hear as in a dream, the songs he sung on yester eye ; songs of that happy Past ( " whose yesterdays look backward with a smile. " To them his strident solo is a talisman that opens wide the doors of Memoryland, with the old walks we only take when time is swifter than a thought and longer than eternity. Down winding paths beneath the whispering oaks; through tangled grasses in the orchard glooms ; across the foot-bridge where the brook goes singing softly all night long ; through forest vistas, where the sunset loiters with its benediction to the day — all the dear paths that only lovers know and love ; even by shadowed ways that lead through valleys where the damps are chill ; through desert paths of tears, and rankling pain, where Marah's waters darken in the solemn pools ; and all the way and all the time the clasp of a fluttering hand, the gleam of starlight in the love-lit eyes. Until, at last, the song and the dream lead on to where the singing brook, its laughter silenced and its music hushed, deepens into the darkly flowing river THE GARDENER 113 and in the morning light that lights our sun, the shadows pass away forever. Ah, katydid, in other worlds than ours you must have sung and learned new melodies since all the days were gold and all the world was young. For who, in this bright world of ours, this land of hope and song, this sunlit world of happy hearts and summer skies, could teach your tiny harp these minor chords? Where could you learn on all this laughing earth, that Joy and Sorrow, sisters born of Love, walk ever hand in hand ? Where could you learn to sing of tears and loneliness ? "Chimes from a Jester's Bells. " Robert J. Burdette. THE GARDENER. And if you ever planted a morning glory seed, which I advise you to do for the sheer pleasure of it — a poor thing brown and hopeless and almost formless in shape or in beau- ty, but put it in the ground, and the sky will call it, " Come, come ! " And if you and I hear what the gardener doth you can hear the morning glory flower saying, " I am coming. " It is like the sleepy voice, that is only half awake, not quite half awake, " Who called me? Was I called ? " " Hurry, hurry ! " says the wind. " I am get- ting my things on, " says the flower. " Oh, hurry, hurry, hurry ! " says the sky, and then above the ground comes the flash of leaves. And then, if you care to mark a miracle, all foul and dispirited, and out of humor apparently with all the world, and with self included, and looks clean down, lips clamped together as with an iron band, and the sky says, " Cheer up ! Come on up here, I am waiting for you to flower up here, " and then the leaves expand, and the sprangles fling out, and the tendrils climb and climb. 114 THE ART OF RENDERING Oh, morning glory flower, where are you going, morning glory flower ? And the morning glory says, " Into the sky. into the sky, into the sky I " Tendrils fling out, climbing on whatsoever thing there is to climb on, on the wire netting! or the string the child put up, but always climbing into the sky. And the ground says, " You belong down here, you seem to be getting aristocratical. You belong down here. I am your mother. " But the morning glory says, " Aye, but the sky is my father. I belong to the sky. " And when the summer comes, and the autumn approaches, there is the morning glory with its purple trumpets of flowers and every trumpet, if you had the ear to bear it, and the ear of the poet to listen to what it said, would say, " I be- long in the sky. " And the gardener believes in the sky- And then the gardener believes in tending. The gardener knows that the sincerest poetry of life is just digging a- round in the dirt, just that ! Oh, beloved, don't you folks get tired just doing the same thing all the time? Woman> have you ever been known to make a word of remark about the dishwashing coming three times a day? Have you? Have you been heard to say that you didn't so much mind to cook, but that the cleaning up hampered your finer sensi- bilities and that your sesth etical tendencies were hampered by the dish cloth? And if it came only once a week, not to say three times a day, there might be some comfort in preparing a meal, and the garments are around, and the stockings must be fixed for the feet, and the dinner must be fixed for the lips, and things must be done over and over and over. And I confess that I feel with anybody who gets tired of the eternal reiteration of things. But what is the gardener doing? Oh, what he did yesterday, digging in the dirt, digging in the dirt, planting the seeds, digging in the dirt, tending. Oh, Gardener, blessed Gardener, don't get tired digging in the dirt of my heart. Oh, blessed CONVERSATIONAL STYLE 115 Gardener, don't get tired sowing the seeds in my heart. Oh, kind Gardener, don't forget to furnish me a sky. Oh, Gar- dener, drench me with thy rain, and enswathe me with thy dew. Sweeten my breath with thy south wind's gust, and shine the lamp light of thy stars on my sleeping face, turn the wonder of thy moonlight on the place where we are trying to get into the sky, and waken me with the wonder of thy winsome look along the eastern window of my heart. Oh, Gardener, don't get tired of tending to my garden. He says, " Don't worry, I never will ! " I would have you mark what seed the Gardener grows. I will talk of the flowers that the Christ Gardener grows in the heart. One of these is the crocus. It is the earliest flower of the lawn. It blooms close against the winter. It barely waits till the last winter wave laps on the shore — and there is the crocus. Thank God, there is a flower that does not wait till spring is here, but grows ere spring has come, gives a prophecy. Some of you people have no call to wait, you are anguish bound, you are winter girt, you look afar, the hills are still clad with snow, the gray skies lower, the falling rain is snowflakes, and you say, " Winter, win- ter, winter ! " And then the Gardener, so we may not die from the winter, and being winter bound, and storm bound, and snow bound, where the winter's drift is barely vanished displays the crocus blooms. Oh, the Gardener plants in the heart the crocus flower. Andthe Gardener plants in the heart the pansies. "Pan- sies, that's for thoughts, " said Brother Shakespeare. Does the Gardener plant thoughts? Quite true. Do we chance to need flowers, any of them, more than thought flowers ? None. The Gardener is planting thoughts, thoughts of a better life, thoughts of a day undimmed by despair. True. Thoughts of service. True. Thoughts of a life that has no weariness. True. Thoughts of a day that is not dark. 116 THE ART OF RENDERING Truly. Thoughts of a prayer a heart may offer that shall do somebody help. Thoughts. And then the Gardener plants heart's ease. Oh, maybe you need that flower — heart's ease. What ails your fingers beloved, that you clutch them so tight? What ails your breath that it stops and then hastens like the beating of a diseased heart? What ails your voice that it breaks like an instrument out of tune? What ails your hand that when you reach out to a friend, then all of a sudden you turn your face away and your hand shakes, and you say " Excuse me, excuse me ? " Oh, well, you have heartache and you need heart's ease. And then the Gardener, this beautiful Gardener, this blessed Gardener, he is planting the flower called heart's ease, and it is for the heartening of the nations. Oh, heart, hast thou this heart's ease flower ? And then this Gardener plants the red rose of love. Every heart hath room for its red rose flower. And this Gardener plants the amaranth, that is the flow- er of immortality. And when day darkens, then we take the amaranth flower of purple and put it up before our sight^ and then we know time cometh when the curtain of dark is not put down and when the dull lamp of evening star is snuffed out by daylight. And then this Gardener plants the flower of the lily, the white flower of a blameless life. This bad life, yes, and the bleak? And in that dull drear ground he plants the seed and lo, there is the white flower of a blameless life. True. And there is the lily flower of resurrection. I cannot, I cannot, I cannot pass this place. I must go in. What place is this? It is an acre. Yes. Whose is it? God's acre. And I must go in. It has winter on it. And all wonder- ful enough, when you go in, to find the dull grave ye left and wept across with broken hearts, it is all grown white as the moonlight of June with lilies of the resurrection. Bishop James A. Qtjayle. NARRATIVE STYLE 117 THE THIRD STEP IN RENDERING. NARRATIVE STYLE. A Narrative is a connected account of events related as a story, an incident or an event. This style may include Anecdotes, Histories, Biographies and Travels. The Narrative style is closely related to the Conver- sational style, therefore directions for rendering that style may be followed in this. A narration or story must have a Purpose. It may be either to entertain, to instruct or to ennoble. Beside this, the effect the narration is likely to produce must be taken into consideration. It must have a Unity to be preserved throughout, with the unimportant subordinate to the central idea. It must be Complete that the mind may be satisfied. In relating an Anecdote, reserve the point till all the circumstances are related. Remember: " Brevity is the soul of wit. " Successful story telling is a rare and charming gift. Simple narration seems to be the easiest thing possible, yet few are able to successfully tell a good story. Young and old alike are interested in stories. A story appropriate and in harmony with the occasion is seldom out of place. Simple events may be told in the order of their hap- pening, leaving out parts that do not bear on the story. Describing minutely all details is tedious to the listener. Train the mind to select readily the essentials, leaving out the unessential. 118 THE ART OF RENDERING Suggestions found in the chapter on Imagination will be found helpful at this point. It treats of how the mind may take up the bare facts and through the imagination re-create them with the aid of the fancy, in this way creat- ing in commonplace happenings a new life and interest, always, of course, keeping within the bonds of truth, unless the story is a novel. The culture of the imagination aids original story telling and in rendering stories written by others. In reading, the mind must first secure the facts, the events, as they happened, as nearly as possible. Then use such material as if an actual experience, when the mind may do the re-creative work, coloring the expression with the personality of the reader, where he may respond showing his attitude toward all the incidents he narrates. The aged, because of a large experience are especially narrative in style. " The poor, the rich, the valliant, and the sage, The boasting youth, and narrative old age. " RIDING ON A CROCODILE. By the time the cayman was within two yards of me, I saw he was in a state of fear and perturbation. I instantly dropped the mast, sprung up and jumped on his back, turn, ing half round as I vaulted, so that I gained my seat with my face in a right position. I immediately seized his fore- legs and by main force twisted them on his back; thus they served for a bridle. He now seemed to have recovered from his surprise, and, probably fancying himself in hostile company, began to plunge furiously and lashed the sand with his long and powerful tail. I was out of reach of it by being near his head. He continued to plunge and strike and mademy seat very uncomfortable. It must have been NARRATIVE STYLE 119 a fine sight for an unoccupied spectator. The people roared out in triumph, and were so vociferous, that it was some time before they heard me tell them to pull me and my beast of burden further inland. I was appre- hensive the rope might break and then there would have been every chance of going down to the regions under the water with the cayman. The people dragged us about forty yards on the sand. It was the first and last time I was ever on a cayman's back. Should it be asked how I managed to keep my seat, I would answer, I hunted some years with Lord Darlington's fox hounds. Charles Waterton. ADVENTURE WITH A PYTHON. That moment the negro next to me seized the lance and held it firm in its place while I dashed head foremost into the den to grapple with the snake, and to get hold of hia tail before he could do any mischief. On pinning him to the ground with the lance, he gave a tremendous loud hiss, and the little dog ran away, howling as he went. We had a sharp fray in the den, the rotten sticks flying on all sides, and each party struggling for the superiority. I called out to the second negro to throw himself upon me as I found I was not heavy enough. He did so, and his additional weight was of great service. I had now got firm hold of his tail, and after a violent struggle or two, he gave in, finding himself overpowered. This was the moment to secure him. So while the first negro con- tinued to hold the lance firm to the ground, and the other was helping me, I contrived to unloose my braces and with them tied up the snake's mouth. 120 THE ART OF RENDERING The snake finding himself in an unpleasant situation, tried to better himself, and set resolutely to work, but we overpowered him. It measured fourteen feet and was of great thickness. We contrived to make him twist himself around the shaft of the lance, and then prepared to convey him out of the forest. 1 stood at his head and held it firmly under my arm, one negro supported the belly, and the other the tail. In this order we began to move slowly towards home, and reached it after resting ten times. Charles Waterton. A " SASSY " CORPSE. Jehoida Brown and his good wife Abigail had been mem- bers of the Wekamen Baptist church for many years. Jehoida was a deacon and his wife was all that except the name. About this time an uncertain number of spooks appeared in and about Wekamen and Wahoo and became obtrusively familiar and oppressively impertinent in the affairs of the community. Abigail was sure she had seen the trailing skirts of one or two and she became at once a confirmed, zealous, and " rantankerous " spiritualist. She was not only interested, but on terms of constant social in- tei course with the uncanny denizens of " Spookland. " In the course of time " Deekin " Brown died. Abigail had 'still remaining in her soul a fragment of respect for the " Deekin 's " religious convictions and church affiliations so she sent for Elder Donnelly — for years the" Deekin's" pastor — to come and officiate in the funeral. When the hour for the services arrived the spiritual and spirited Abigail declared " on her conscience " she would not listen to the Elder's nonsense ; but she would retire to NARRATIVE STYLE 121 a private room where she could commune with the " sperit " of her dear companion while the minister was entertaining and comforting the neighbors and mourners with an end- less funeral " sarmin. " The Elder delivered the usual homily on such occasions — dilating on the virtue and piety of the departed Deacon and closing with a descriptive bird's-eye of his present home, condition, and business. The " Deekin " he said t was in glory, was perfectly happy, and " singin' among the An-gels, " ( forgetful of his late spouse. ) He closed the " sarmin " leaving the " Deekin " in the midst of some entrancing lyric — oblivious to all mundane interests. As the meeting was being dismissed, the widow rushed out of her " private room. " She had been quite attentive to the Elder's " sarmin " notwithstanding the presence of the visiting "sperit" of Mr. Brown. She called a halt in the movement of the congregation and pre-emptorily order- ed them seated a moment. As it was " her funeral » and they were there to accomodate her, the people sat down. In a sharp and acrid tone of voice she declared that Eld- er Donnely had lied through his whole " sarmin. " She had been in communion with the " Deekin " during the whole time ; he was not among the Angels ; but with her. He was " not singin' neither, " but nebulously hovering over Abigail's head. She added that the " Deekin " sent a message that he did not want Elder Donnely to lie about him; he — the Elder — " better go home and tend to his own business. " Such she said was the message of " Deekin " Brown to his friends and the Elder. Elder Donnely rose with a sad countenance which he partially covered with a red bandana ; in a doleful tone of voice, and a suspicion of a make-believe tear in one eye he declared with his rich Irish brogue: 122 THE ART OF RENDERING " Oi have preached many a fun'ral sarmin; but the Lord knows this is the first time I've been sassed by the corpse for me effort. " Then the procession moved on. Rev. H. O. Rowlands. WEE DAVIE. " Wee Davie " was the only child of William Thorburn, blacksmith. He had reached the age at which he could venture, with prudence and reflection, on a journey from one chair to another ; his wits kept alive by maternal warn- ings of " Tak care, Davie; mind the fire, Davie. " When the journey was 6nded in safety, and he looked over his shoulder with a crow of joy to his mother, he was re- warded, in addition to the rewards of his own brave and adventurous spirit, by such a smile as equalled only his own, and by the well-merited approval of " Weel done, Davie ! " Davie was the most powerful member of the household. Neither the British fleet, nor the French army, nor the Armstrong gun had the power of doing what Davie did. They might as well have tried to make a primrose grow or a lark sing! He was for example a wonderful stimulus to labor. The smith had been rather disposed to idleness before his son's arrival. He did not take to his work on cold mornings as he might have done, and was apt to neglect many oppor- tunities, which offered themselves, of bettering his condi- tion ; and Jeanie was easily put off by some plausible ob- jection when she urged her husband to make an additional honest penny to keep the house. But " the bairn " be- came a new motive to exertion ; and the thought of leaving him and Jeanie more comfortable, in case sickness laid the NARRATIVE STYLE 123 smith aside, or death took him away, became like a new sinew to his powerful arm, as he wielded the hammer and made it ring the music of hearty work on the sounding anvil. The meaning of benefit-clubs, sick-societies, and penny-banks was fully explained by " wee Davie. " Davie also exercised a remarkable influence on his father's political views and social habits. The smith had been fond of debates on political questions : and no more sonorous growl of discontent than his could be heard a- gainst the " powers that be, " the injustice done to the masses, or the misery which was occasioned by class leg- islation. He had also made up his mind not to be happy or contented, but only to endure life as a necessity laid up- on him, until the required reforms in church and state, at home and abroad, had been attained. But his wife, without uttering a syllable on matters which she did not even pre- tend to understand ; by a series of acts out of Parliament ; by reforms in household arrangements ; by introducing good bills into her own House of Commons ; and by a charter, whose points were very commonplace ones — such as a com- fortable meal, a tidy home, a clean fireside, a polished grate, above all, a cheerful countenance and womanly love — by these radical changes she had made her husband wonder- fully fond of his home. He was, under this teaching, get- ting too contented for a patriot, and too happy for a man in an ill-governed world. His old companions at last could not coax him out at night. He was lost as a member of one of the most philosophical clubs in the neighborhood. " His old pluck, " they said, " was gone. " The wife, it was alleged by the patriotic bachelors, had " cowed " him and driven all the spirit out of him. But " wee Davie " completed this revolution. I shall tell you how. One failing of William's had hitherto resisted Jeanie's silent influence. The smith had formed the habit, before 124 THE ART OF RENDERING he was married, of meeting a few companions, " just in a friendly way, " on pay-nights at a public-house. It was true that he was never what might be called a drunkard — never lost a day's work — never was the worst for liquor, etc. But, nevertheless, when he entered the snuggery in Peter Wilson's whisky-shop, with the blazing fire and com- fortable atmosphere ; and when, with half-a-dozen talkative, and to him, pleasant fellows and old companions, he sat around the fire, and the glasses circulated; and the gos- sip of the week was discussed ; and racy stories were told : and one or two songs sung, linked together by memories of old merry-meetings ; and current jokes were repeated with humor, of the tyrannical influence which some would presume to exercise on " innocent enjoyment " — then would the smith's brawny chest expand, and his face beam, and his feelings become malleable, and his sixpences be- gin to melt, and flow out in generous sympathy into Peter Wilson's fozy hand, to be counted greedily beneath his sodden eyes. And so it was the smith's wages were al- ways lessened by Peter's gains. His wife had her fears — her horrid anticipations — but did not like, even to her husband, to hint at anything so dreadful as what she in her heart dreaded. She took her own way, however, to win him to the house and to good, and gently insinuated wishes rather than expressed them. The smith, no doubt, she comforted herself by thinking, " was only merry, " and never ill-tempered or unkind — " yet at times, — and then, what if — ! " Yes. Jeanie, you are right ! The demon sneaks into the house by degrees, and at first he may be kept out, and the door shut upon him ; but let him only once take possession, then he will keep it, and will keep it and shut the door against everything pure, lovely, and of good report — barring it against thee and " wee Davie, " ay, and One who is best of all— and will fill the house WEE DAVIE 125 with sin and shame, with misery and despair ! But " wee Davie, " with his arm of might, drove the demon out. It happened thus : One evening when the smith returned home so that " you could know it on him, " Davie toddled forward; and his father, lifting him up, made him stand on his knee. The child began to play with the locks of the Sampson, to pat him on the cheek, and to repeat with glee the name of «• dad-a. " The smith gazed on him intently, and with a peculiar look of love, mingled with sadness. " Isn't he a bonn ie bairn ? " asked Jeauie, as she looked over her hus- band's shoulder at the child, nodding and smiling to him. The smith spoke not a word, but gazed intently on his boyj while some sudden emotion was strongly working in his countenance. " It's done I " he at last said, as he put the child down. " What's wrang? what's wrang? " exclaimed his wife as she stood before him, and put her hands round his shoulders, bending down until her face was close to his. " Everything is wrang, Jeanie. " " Willie, what is't? are ye no weel? — tell me what's wrang wr you ! — oh, tell me ! " she exclaimed in evident alarm. " It's a' right noo. " he said, rising up and seizing the child. He lifted him to his breast and kissed him. Then looking up he said, " Davie has done it, along wi' you, Jeanie. Thank God, I am a free man ! " His wife felt awed, she knew not how. u Sit doon, " he said, as he took out his handkerchief, and wiped away a tear from his eye, " and I'll tell you a' aboot it. " Jeanie sat on a stool at his feet, with Davie on her knee. The smith seized the child's little hand in one of his own and with the other took his wife's. 126 THE ART OF RENDERING " I haVna been what ye may ca'a drunkard, " he said, slowly, and like a man abashed, " but I hae been often as I shouldna have been, and as, wi' God's help, I never, never will be again ! " " Oh ! " exclaimed Jeanie. " It's done, it's done ; as I'm a leevin man, it's done ! But dinna greet, Jeanie. Thank God for you and Davie my best blessings. " " Except Himself ! " said Jeanie, as she hung on her husband's neck. " And noo, woman, '' replied the smith, " nae mair about it ; it's done. Gie wee Davie a piece, and get the supper ready. " Norman Macleod. ELIZABETH. Now was the winter gone, and the snow ; and Robin the Redbreast, Boasted on bush and tree it was he, it was he and no other That had covered with leaves the Babes in the Wood, and blithely All the birds sang with him, and little cared for his boasting, Or for his Babes in the Wood, or the Cruel Uncle, and only Sang for the mates they had chosen, and cared for the nests they were building. With them, but more sedately and meekly.Elizabeth Haddon Bang in her inmost heart, but her lips were silent and songless. Thus came the lovely spring with a rush of blossoms and music, Flooding the earth with flowers, and the air with melodies vernal. NARRATIVE STYLE 127 Then it came to pass, one pleasant morning, that slowly Up the road there came a cavalcade, as of pilgrims, Men and women; wending their way to the Quarterly Meeting In the neighboring town ; and with them came riding John Estaugh. At Elizabeth's door they stopped to rest, and alighting Tasted the currant wine, and the bread of rye, and the honey Brought from the hives, that stood by the sunny wall of the garden ; Then remounted their horses, refreshed, and continued their journey, And Elizabeth with them, and Joseph, and Hannah the housemaid. But, as they started, Elizabeth lingered a little, and leaning Over her horse's neck, in a whisper said to John Estaugh: " Tarry awhile behind, for I have something to tell thee, Not to be spoken lightly, nor in the presence of others ; Them it concerneth not, only thee and me it concerneth. '' And they rode slowly along through the woods, conversing together. It was pleasant to bieathe the fragrant air of the forest ; It was pleasant to live on that bright and happy May morning! Then Elizabeth said, though still with a certain reluctance As if impelled to reveal a secret she fain would have guarded; " I will no longer conceal what is laid upon me to tell thee; I have received from the Lord a charge to love thee, John Estaugh. " And John Estaugh made answer, surprised by the words she had spoken, " Pleasant to me are thy converse, thy ways, thy meekness of spirit ; 128 THE ART OF RENDERING Pleasant thy frankness of speech, and thy soul's immacu- late whiteness, Love without dissimulation, a holy and inward adorning. But I have yet no light to lead me, no voice to direct me. When the Lord's work is done, and the toil and the labor completed He hath appointed to me, I will gather into the stillness Of my own heart awhile, and listen and wait for his guid- ance. " Then Elizabeth said, not troubled nor wounded in spirit, " So is it best, John Estaugh. We will not speak of it further. It hath been laid upon me to tell thee this, for to-morrow Thou art going away, across the sea, and I know not When I shall see thee more ; but if the Lord hath decreed it, Thou wilt return again to seek me here and to find me. " And they rode onward in silence, and entered the town with the others. Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness ; So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another, Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence. Now went on as of old the quiet life of the homestead. Patient and unrepining Elizabeth labored, in all things Mindful not of herself, but bearing the burdens of others Always thoughtful and kind and untroubled ; and Hannah the housemaid Diligent early and late, and rosy with washing and scouring, Still as of old disparaged the eminent merits of Joseph, And was at times reproved for her light and frothy behavior, For her shy looks, and her careless words, and her evil surmisings, NARRATIVE STYLE 129 Being pressed down somewhat, like a cart with sheaves overladen, As she would sometimes say to Joseph, quoting the Scriptures. Meanwhile John Estaugh departed across the sea, and departing Carried hid in his heart a secret sacred and precious, Filling its chambers with fragrance, and seeming to him in its sweetness Mary's ointment of spikenard, that filled all the house with its odor. O lost days of delight, that are wasted in doubting and waiting ! O lost hours and days in which we might have been happy 1 But the light shone at last, and guided his wavering foot. steps, And at last came the voice, imperative, questionless, certain. Then John Estaugh came back o'er the sea for the gift that was offered, Better than houses and lands, the gift of a woman's affection. And on the First Day that followed, he rose in the Silent Assembly, Holding in his strong hand a hand that trembled a little, Promising to be kind and true and faithful in all things. Such were the marriage-rites of John and Elizabeth Estaugh. And not otherwise Joseph, the honest, the diligent servant, Sped in his bashful wooing with homely Hannah the house- maid ; For when he asked her the question, she answered, " Nay ; " and then added " But thee may make believe, and see what will come of it, Joseph. " " Elizabeth. " Parts III & IV H. W. Longfellow. 130 THE ART OF RENDERING FOURTH STEP IN RENDERING. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE. To Describe is to represent by drawing ; a represen- tation by words or other signs. The figure to be delin- eated may be that which appeals to the eye : objects, persons, places. The person who gives the description must, like a photographer, select a definite view-point and hold it unchanged for one picture lest the impression be indistinct. If the view-point is large and distant, a change may be allowed, otherwise but one impression should be given. The essential characteristics must be brought out. Take advantage of proper background, contrasts and comparisons. Use carefully and skillfully such words as will awaken mental pictures: for example, make use of words giving color, brilliancy and life. Call attention to the various points to be brought out in such an order as to be easily grasped by the listener. Naturally the mind looks, first at the picture as a whole, next the patts, then the relation of one part to another, last, selects that which seems most important. As the speaker presents his mental picture to his lis- teners he too should look at his picture as well as at his auditors. Both speaker and listeners inspect it together, so it cannot be placed between speaker and audience. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 131 The Descriptive Style is closely related to the Conversa* tional Style ; hecause of this, the suggestions for rendering the Conversational Style may he applied to the Descriptive. As in the Narrative Style so in the Descriptive Style there must be a Purpose. The Unity must he preserved. See that the picture is properly focused. It must be well bal» anced and complete. It must he brief and well concentra- ted so a mind that has given no previous thought to it may grasp all readily like a picture. Enter into the de- scription as if it is something new that you only know. It is of importance to note at this point that knowing in an abstract way is cold and uninteresting, and has little power to influence or move; knowing things in a concrete way leads to life and action. Abstract and general ideas have no power to move the emotions, while the presenting of definite, actual ideas may be grasped first by the mind of the speaker after which he may move his listeners pro- foundly. We may illustrate what we mean by general ideas as compared with the particular by calling attention to the fact that we may hear, almost unmoved, of some great disaster, some horror costing hundreds of lives, while a definite description of one child perishing in some accident moves us profoundly, even to tears. Attention to what is barely suggested here will enable the speaker to make use of concrete rather than the abstract, particular rather than general ideas. Where ideas of a general character must be used in the readings, the reader must create vivid mental pictures for himself, in this way adding reality and life. The follow- ing may serve to illustrate the mental action in creating real, concrete ideas from what is generally mere words. Let the student read " The Ocean, " by Lord Byron. " Thou glorious mirror, " — Let the mind behold a vast, glassy surface, wherein, in turn, is reflected tempest, calm, 132 THE ART OF RENDERING convulsed, breeze, gale, storm, ice, and " dark heaving. " Following these definite reflections in this vast mirror, the mind passes to the invisible, mystic, which cannot be de- scribed. But as the mind sees definite pictures of the sur- face of the water as the different word pictures are present- ed — pictured in detail, as if to reproduce in a painting, the listener will feel the force of something alive and interest- ing. Herein is art. Each artist must create his own ideals. He may introduce into this series of ocean views, boats, ships clouds, rocks or anything to make it exist in mind as an object, concrete, — not abstract or considered apart from a particular object. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; — boundless, endless and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime — The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee : thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. 8ays Dr. Campbell concerning the importance of clear- ness : " If the medium through which we look at any ob- ject is perfectly transparent, our whole attention is fixed on the object ; we are scarcely sensible that there is a medi- um which intervenes, and we can hardly be said to perceive it, but if there is a flaw in the medium, if we see through it but dimly, if the object is imperfectly represented, or if we know it to be misrepresented, our attention is immedi- ately taken off the object to the medium A discourse, then, excells in perspicuity when the subject engrosses the attention of the hearer, and the language is DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 133 so little minded by him that he can scarcely be said to be conscious it is through the medium he sees the speaker's thoughts. " The descriptive studies following are of an objective char- acter. Care has been exercised in selecting such short and easy studies as have one simple picture to portray. Let the student form a complete mental image of each of the following studies. After careful study and concentration of the mind upon it, read your study to some one asking them, in turn, to describe to you the picture the reading has suggested to them. Practice of this kind will enable the pupil to know if he has ability to project mental pic- tures into the minds of others. Objective studies with one prominent picture are given here. Subjective studies with one leading feeling come under the step headed Lyrics. Experience has proven the objective studies, — pictures, and the subjective, — manifesting feeling are most helpful. WASHINGTON. George Washington's personal appearance was in harmo- ny with his character ; it was a model of manly strength and beauty. He was about six feet two inches in height and his person well proportioned, — in the earlier part of life, rather spare, and never too stout for action and graceful movement. The complexion inclined to the florid ; the eyes blue and remarkably far apart; a profusion of brown hair was drawn back from the forehead, highly powdered, ac- cording to the fashion of the day, and gathered in a bag behind. He was scrupulously neat in his dress, and while in camp, though he habitually left his tent at sunrise, he was usually dressed for the day. Everett. 134 THE ART OF RENDERING JOHN BURNS OF GETTYSBURG. Just where the tide of battle turns Erect and lonely stood old John Burns. How do you think the man was dressed? He wore an ancient long buff vest, Yellow as saffron — but his best; And buttoned over his manly breast, Was a bright blue coat with a rolling collar, And large, gilt buttons — size of a dollar ; He wore a broad brimmed, bell-crowned hat, White as the locks on which it sat. But Burns unmindful of jeer and scoff, Stood there picking the rebels off — With his long, brown rifle and bell-crowned hat, And the swallow-tails they were laughing at. In fighting the battle, the question's whether You'll show a hat that's white, or a feather ! Bbete Haete. JOHN HANCOCK. One raw morning in spring, the town militia came to- gether before daylight " for training. " A great tall man, with a large head and a high, wide brow, their captain, — one who had " seen service " , — marshalled them into line, numbering but seventy, and bade every man to load his piece with powder and ball. " I will order the first man shot that runs away, " said he, when some faltered. " Don't fire unless fired upon, but if they want to have a war, let it begin here. " You know what followed ; those farmers and mechanics " fired the shot that was heard round the world. " Theodoee Paekee. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 135 EVANGELINE. Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of Minas, Benedict Belief ontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand-Pre, Dwelt on his goodly acres ; and with him, directing his household, Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the village. Stal worth and stately in form was the man of seventy winters; Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow- White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the oak-leaves. Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the wayside, Black, yet how softly they gleamed neath the brown shade of her tresses! Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the meadows. Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its turret Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them, Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of beads and her missal, Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and the ear-rings, Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heirloom, Handed down from mother to child, through long generations. But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — ■ 136 THE ART OF RENDERING Shone on her face and encircled her form, when after con- fession, Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon her. When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exqui- site music. H. W. Longfellow. MARY. Of the new-comers, there was a group over by the south wall, consisting of a man, a woman, and a donkey, which requires extended notice. The man stood by the animal's head, holding a leading-strap. . . . The donkey ate leisurely from an armful of green grass, of which there was an abundance in the market. In its sleepy content, the brute did not admit of disturbance from the bustle and clamor about ; no more was it mindful of the woman sitting upon its back in a cushioned pillion. An outer robe of dull woolen stuff completely covered her person, while a white wimple veiled her head and neck The sun streamed garishly over the stony face of the famous locality, and under its influence Mary, the daughter of Joachim, dropped the wimple entirely, and bared her head. . . . She was not more than fifteen. Her form, voice, and manner belonged to the period of transition from girlhood. Her face waa perfectly oval, her complexion more pale than fair. The nose was faultless ; the lips slight- ly parted, were full and ripe, giving to the lines of the mouth warmth, tenderness, and trust ; the eyes were blue and large, and shaded by drooping lids and long lashes ; and, in harmony with all, a flood of golden hair, in the style permitted to Jewish brides, fell unconfined down her back to the pillion on which she sat. The throat and DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 137 neck had the downy softness sometimes seen, which leaves the artist in doubt whether it is an effect of contour or col- or. To these charms of feature and person were added others more indefinable — an air of purity which only the soul can impart, and of abstraction natural to such as think of things impalpable. Often, with trembling lips, she raised her eyes to heaven, itself not more deeply blue ; often she crossed her hands upon her breast, as in adoration and prayer ; often she raised her head like one listening eager- ly for a calling voice. Now and then, midst his slow utter- ance, Joseph turned to look at her, aud, catching the ex- pression kindling her face as with light, forgot his theme, and with bowed head, wondering, plodded on. "Ben-Hue. " Lew. Wallace. PRISCILLA. So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went on his errand ; Heard, as he drew near the door, the musical voice of Priscilla Singing the hundredth Psalm, the grand old Puritan anthem, Then, as he opened the door, he beheld the form of the maiden Seated beside her wheel, and the carded wool like a snow-drift Piled at her knee, her white hands feeding the ravenous spindle, While with her foot on the treadle she guided the wheel in its motion. Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-book of Ainsworth, Printed in Amsterdam, the words and the music together, Bough-hewn, angular notes, like stones in the wall of a churchyard, 138 THE ART OF RENDERING Darkened and overhung by the running vines of the verges. Such was the book from whose pages she sang the old Pu. ritan anthem, She, the Puritan girl, in the solitude of the forest, Making the humble house and the modest apparel of home- spun Beautiful with her beauty, and rich with the wealth of her being ! " Courtship of Miles Standish. " H. W. Longfellow. ROMOLA. " Ah, you are come back, Moso. It is well. We have wanted nothing. " The voice came from the farther end of a long, spacious room, surrounded with shelves, on which books and anti- quities were arranged in scrupulous order. Here and there on separate stands in front of the shelves, were placed a beautiful feminine torso ; a headless statue, with an uplift- ed muscular arm wielding a bloodless sword ; rounded, dim- pled, infantine limbs severed from the trunk, invited the lips to kiss the cold marble ; some well preserved Roman busts ; and two or three vases from Magna Grecia. A large table in the centre was covered with antique bronze lamps and small vessels in dark pottery. The color of these ob- jects was chiefly pale or somber ; the vellum bindings, with their deep ridged backs, gave little relief to the mar- ble, livid with long burial : the once splendid patch of car- pet at the farther end of the room had long been worn to dimness ; the dark bronzes wanted sunlight upon them to bring out their tinge of green, and the sun was not yet high enough to send gleams of brightness through the narrow windows that looked on the Via di Bardi. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 139 The only spot of bright color was made by the hair of a tall maiden of seventeen or eighteen, who was standing before a carved leggio, or reading desk, such as is often seen in the choirs of Italian churches. The hair was of reddish gold color, enriched by an unbroken small ripple» such as may be seen in the sunset clouds on grandest au- tumnal evenings. It was confined by a black fillet above her ears, from which it rippled forward again, and made a natural veil for her neck above her square-cut gown of black serge. Her eyes were bent on a large volume placed before her : one long white hand rested on the reading desk, and the other clasped the back of her father's chair. The blind father sat with head uplifted and turned a little aside towards his daughter, as if he were looking at her. His delicate paleness, set off by the black velvet cap, which surmounted his drooping white hair, made all the more perceptible the likeness between his aged features and those of the young maiden, whose cheeks were also without any tinge of the rose. There was the same refinement of brow and nostril in both, counterbalanced by a firm mouth and powerful chin, which gave an expression of proud te- nacity and latent impetuousness ; an expression carried out in the backward poise of the girl's head, and the grand line of her neck and shoulders. It was a type of face of which one could not venture to say whether it would inspire love or only that unwilling admiration which is mixed with dread ; the question must be decided by the eyes, which often seem charged with a more direct message from the soul. But the eyes of the father had long been silent, and the eyes of the daughter were bent on the Latin pages of " Politian's Miscellanea " from which she was reading aloud. Geobge Eliot. 140 THE ART OF RENDERING SENECA LAKE. On thy fair bosom, silver lake, The white swan spreads his snowy sail, And round his breast the ripples break, As down he bears before the gale. On thy fair bosom, waveless stream, The dipping paddle echoes far, And flashes in the moonlight gleam, And bright reflects the polar star. The waves along thy pebbly shore, As blows the north wind, heave their foam, And curl around the dashing oar, As late the boatman hies him home. How sweet, at set of sun, to view Thy golden mirror spreading wide, And see the mist of mantling blue Float round the distant mountain's side ! At midnight hour, as shines the moon, A sheet of silver spreads below, And swift she cuts, at highest noon, Light clouds, like wreaths of purest snow. On thy fair bosom, silver lake, Oh ! I could ever sweep the oar, When early birds at morning wake, And evening tells us toil is o'er. James G. Percival. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 141 THE SNOW ANGEL. The sleigh bells danced that winter night ; Old Brattleboro rang with glee ; The windows overflowed with light ; Joy ruled each hearth and Christmas tree, But to one the bells and mirth were naught: His soul with deeper joy was fraught. He waited until the guests were gone He waited to dream his dream alone ; And the night wore on. Alone he stands in the silent night ; He piles the snow in the village square ; With spade for a chisel, a statue white From the crystal quarry rises fair. No light save the stars to guide his hand, But the image obeys his soul's command. The sky is draped with fleecy lawn, The stars grow pale in the early dawn, But the lad toils on. And lo I in the morn the people came To gaze at the wondrous vision there ; And they call it " The Angel, " divining its name, For it came in silence and unaware. It seemed no mortal hand had wrought The uplifted face of prayerful thought ; But its features wasted beneath the sun ; Its life went out ere the day was done ; And the lad dreamed on. 142 THE ART OF RENDERING And his dream was this : la the years to be I will carve the Angel in lasting stone ; In another land beyond the sea I will toil in darkness, I will dream alone, While others sleep I will find a way Up through the night to the light of day. There's nothing desired beneath star or sun Which patient genius has not won. And the boy tailed on. The years go by. He has wrought with might. He has gained renown in a land of art; But the thought inspired that Christmas night Still kept its place in the sculptor's heart ; And the dream of the boy that melted away In the light of the sun that winter day, Is embodied at last in enduring stone, Snow Angel in marble — his purpose won ; And the man toils on. Wallace Bruce. KAATSKILL ON THE HUDSON. Whoever has made a voyage up the Hudson, must re- member the Kaatskill mountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachian family, and are seen far away to the west of the river, swelling up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country. Every change of season, every change of weather, indeed, every hour of the day produces some change in the magical lines and shapes of these mountains ; and they are regarded by the good wives far and near as perfect barometers. When DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 143 the weather is fair and settled, they are clothed in blue and purple, and print their bold outlines on the clear, evening sky ; but sometimes when the rest of the landscape is cloud- less, they will gather a hood of gray vapor about their sum- mits, which in the last rays of the setting sun, will glow and light up like a crown of glory. Washington Irving. EL CAPITAN. The most impassive granite wonder in the Yosemite Val- ley is the great rock, El Gapitan, gray in the shadow, and white in the sun. Standing out a vast cube with a half mile front, a half mile side, three-fifths of a mile high, and seventy-three hundred feet above the sea, it is almost the crowning triumph of solid geometry. Well did the Indians name him Tu-touch-ah-nu-lah, — Great Chief of the Valley. When you reach the valley he towers above you in the left. He grows grander and more solemn every step of the way. When you stand beneath him he blots out the world ; when you stand near the base he blots out the sky. Get as far from him as you can, he never diminishes. He follows you as you go. He is the overwhelming presence of the place. You never tire seeing the eastern sunshine move down the front like a smile on a human face. You never tire seeing the great shadows roll out across the broad meadows as the sun descends and rises like the tide in the Fundy's Bay, till the valley is half filled with night, and the tips of the tall trees are dipped like pens in ink. You never weary watching a light from a moon you cannot see, as it silvers the cornices and brightens the dusky front, as if wizards were painting their way down without a stage or scaffold. A dark spot starts out in the light. It turns in- 144 THE ART OF RENDERING to a great cedar. Pines that stand about the base resem- ble shrubs along a garden wall, though they are two hun- dred feet high. A few men have crept out to the eaves of El Capitan, looked over, crept back again. Little white clouds sail silently toward the lofty eaves and are gone as if to a dovecote in a garret. And yet the earthquake in 1872 rocked him like a cradle. The clocks in the val- ley all stopped as though, when El Capitan was moved, then " time shall be no more. " Bayard Taylor. MORNING. As we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight became more perceptible ; the intense blue of the sky began to sof- ten ; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest ; the sister beams of the Pleiades soon melted together ; but the bright constellations of the west and north remained un- changed. Steadily the wondrous transfiguration went on. Hands of angels hidden from mortal eyes shifted the scen- ery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into the glories of the dawn. The bine sky turned more softly gray; the great watch-stars shut up their holy eyes ; the east be- gan to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed a- long the sky : the whole celestial concave was filled with the inflowing tides of the morning light, which came pour- ing down from above in one great ocean of radiance ; till at length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a flash of purple fire blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the dewy tear-drops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few seconds the everlasting gates of the morning were thrown wide open, and the lord of day, ai rayed in glories too severe for the gaze of man, began his state. Edward Everett. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 145 NIGHT. A mysterious darkness creeps over the face of nature ; the beautiful scenes of earth are slowly fading, one by one. He raises his gaze toward heaven ; and 16 ! a silver cres- cent of light, clear and beautiful hanging in the western sky, meets his astonished gaze. The young moon charms his vision, and leads him upward to her bright attendants which are now stealing, one by one, from out the deep blue sky. The solitary gazer bows, wonders and adores. The hours glide by ; the silver moon is gone ; the stars are rising, slowly ascending the heights of heaven and sol- emnly sweeping downward in the stillness of the night. A faint streak of rosy light is seen in the east ; it brightens; ■ the stars fade, the planets are extinguished ; the eye is fixed in mute astonishment on the glowing splendor, till the first rays of the returning sun dart their radiance on the earth. O. M. Mitchell. THE OAK. Beware a speedy friend, the Arabian said, And wisely was it he advised distrust : The flower that blossoms earliest fades the first. Look at yon Oak that lifts its stately head, And dallies with the autumnal storm, whose rage Tempests the great sea-waves ; slowly it rose, Slowly its strength increased through many an age And timidly did its light leaves disclose, As doubtful of the spring, their palest green. They to the summer cautiously expand, And by the warmer sun and season bland Matured, their foliage in the grove is seen, When the bare forest by the wintry blast is swept, Still lingering on the boughs the last. Southey. 146 THE ART OF RENDERING AN IDYL. I saw her first on a day in spring, By the side of a stream, as I fished along, And loitered to hear the robins sing, And guessed at the secret they told in song. The apple-blossoms, so white and red, Were mirrored beneath in the streamlet's flow ; And the sky was blue far overhead, And far in the depths of the brook below. I lay half hid by a mossy stone And looked in the water for flower and sky. I heard a step — I was not alone : And a vision of loveliness met my eye. I saw her come to the other side, And the apple-blossoms were not more fair ; She stooped to gaze in the sunlit tide, And her eyes met mine in the water there. She stopped in timid and mute surprise, And that look might have lasted till now, I ween ; But, modestly dropping her dove like eyes, She turned her away to the meadow green. I stood in wonder and rapture lost At her slender form and her step so free, At her raven locks by the breezes tossed, As she kicked up her heels in the air for glee. The apple-blossoms are withered now, But the sky, and the meadow, andstream,are there; And whenever I wander that way I vow That some day I'll buy me that little black mare. C. G. Buck. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 147 THE PRIMROSE OF THE ROCK. A rock there is whose lonely front The passing traveller slights ; Yet there the glow-worms hang their lamps Like stars, at various heights ; And one coy Primrose to that Rock The vernal breeze invites. What hideous warfare hath been waged, What kingdoms overthrown, Since first I spied that Primrose-tuft And marked it for my own A lasting link in Nature's chain From highest heaven let down ! The flowers, still faithful to the stems, Their fellowship renew ; The stems are faithful to the root, That worketh out of •view ; And to the rock the root adheres In every fibre true. Wordsworth. THE VIOLET. The violet in her green-wood bower, Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle, May boast itself the fairest flower In glen, or copse, or forest dingle. Though fair her gems of azure hue, Beneath the dew-drop's weight reclining, I've seen an eye of lovelier hue, More sweet through wat'ry lustre shining. Scott. 148 THE ART OF RENDERING THE DANDELION. Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold, High hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they An El Dorado in the grass have found, Which not the rich earth's ample round May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me Than all the prouder summer blooms may be. How like a prodigal doth nature seem, When thou, for all thy gold, so common art ! Thou teachest me to deem More sacredly of every human heart. Since then reflects in joy its scanty gleam Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show, Did we but pay the love we owe. And with a child's undoubting wisdom look, On all these pages of God's book. Lowell. FLOWERS. Ere yet our course was graced with social trees It lacked not old remains of hawthorn bowers, Where small birds warbled to their paramours; And, earlier still, was heard the hum of bees ; I saw them ply their harmless robberies, And caught the fragrance which the sundry flowers, Fed by the stream with soft perpetual showers, Plenteously yielded to the fragrant breeze. There bloomed the strawberry of the wilderness ; The trembling eyebright showed her sapphire blue, The thyme her purple, like the blush of Even ; DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 149 And if the breath of some to no caress Invited, forth they peeped so fair to view, All kinds alike seemed favorites of Heaven. Wordsworth. THE BUTTERFLY. I've watch'd you now a full half -hour, Self -poised upon that yellow flower ; And, little Butterfly ! indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless ! — not frozen seas More motioEless ! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again ! This plot of orchard-ground is ours : My trees they are, my Sister's flowers ; Here rest your wings when they are weary ; Here lodge as in a sanctuary ! Come often to us, fear no wrong; Sit near us on the bough ! We'll talk of sunshine and of song, And summer days, when we were young ; Sweet childish days, that were as long As twenty days are now. Wordsworth. LICHENS AND MOSSES. Lichen and mosses (though these last in their luxuri- ance are deep and rich as herbage, yet both for the most part humblest of the green things that live ) — how of these ? 150 THE ART OF RENDERING Meek creatures ! the first mercy of the earth, veiling with hushed softness its dintless rocks ; creatures full of pity, covering with strange and tender honor the scarred disgrace of ruin, — laying quiet fingers on the trembling stones, to teach them rest. No words, that I know of, will say what these mosses are. None are delicate enough, none perfect enough, none rich enough. How is one to tell of the round- ed bosses of furred and beaming green — the starred divi- siDns of rubied bloom, fine-filmed, as if the Rock Spirits could spin porphyry as we do glass — the traceries of in- tricate silver, and fringes of amber, lustrous, arborescent, burnished through every fibre into fitful brightness and glossy traverses of silken change, yet all subdued and pen- sive, and framed for simplest, sweetest offices of grace. They will not be gathered, like the flowers, for chaplet or love-token ; but of these the wild bird will make its nest, and the wearied child his pillow. And, as the earth's first mercy, so they aie its last gift to us. When all other service is vain, from plant and tree, the soft mosses and gray lichen take up their watch by the headstone. The woods, the blossoms, the gift-bearing grasses, have done their parts for a time, but these do service for- ever. Trees for the builder's yard, flowers for the bride's chamber, corn for the granary, moss for the grave. Yet as in one sense the humblest, in another they are the most honored of the earth-children. Unfading, as mo- tionless, the worm frets them not, and the autumn wastes not. Strong in lowliness, they neither blanch in heat nor pine in frost. To them, slow-fingered, constant-hearted, is entrusted the weaving of the dark, eternal, tapestries of the hills; to them, slow-penciled, iris-dyed, the tender f ram. ing of their endless imagery. Sharing the stillness of the unimpassioned rock, they share also its endurance; and while the winds of departing spring scatter the white haw- DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 151 thorn blossom like drifted snow, and summer dims on the parched meadow the drooping of its cowslip-gold, — far a- bove, among the mountains, the silver lichen spots rest, star- like, on the stone, and the gathering orange-stain upon the edge of yonder western peak reflects the sunsets of a thou- sand years. John Euskin. LAKE OTSEGO. On all sides, wherever the eye turned, nothing met it but the mirror-like surface of the lake, the placid view of heaven, and the dense setting of woods. So rich and fleecy were the outlines of the forest, that scarce an opening could be seen : the whole visible earth, from the rounded moun- tain-top to the water's edge, presenting one unvaried line of unbroken verdure. As if vegetation were not satisfied with a triumph so complete, the trees overhung the lake itself, shooting out towards the light ; and there were miles along its eastern shore where a boat might have pulled beneath the branches of dark Rembrandt-looking hemlocks, quiver- ing aspens, and melancholy pines. In a word, the hand of man had never yet defaced or deformed any part of this native scene, which lay bathed in the sunlight, a glorious picture of affluent forest grandeur, softened by the balmi- ness of June, and relieved by the beautiful variety afford- ' ed by the presence of so broad an expanse of water. Cooper. THE LOVELY SHELL. See what a lovely shell, Small and pure as a pearl, Lying close to my foot, 152 THE ART OF RENDERING Frail, but a work divine, Made so fairily well With delicate spire and whorl, How exquisitely minute, Ajniracle of .design ! What is it ? a learned man Could give it a clumsy name. Let him name it who can, The beauty would be the same. The th>y cell is forlorn, Void of the little living will That made it stir on the shore. Did he stand at the diamond door Of his house in a rainbow frill ? Did he push, when he was uncurl'd, A golden foot or a fairy horn Thro' his dim water-world ? Tennyson. ON THE ST. LAWRENCE RIVER. Faintly as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on the shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near, and the daylight's past ! Why should we yet our sail unfurl? There is not a breath the blue wave to curl ! But when the wind blows off the shore, Oh T sweetly we'll rest our weary oar. Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near, and the daylight's past. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 153 TJtawas' tide ! this trembling moon Shall see us float over thy surges soon. Saint of this green Isle I hear our prayers. Oh ! grant us cool heavens and favoring airs. Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near, and the daylight's past ! Moore. NIGHT. The sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture close, Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon, Which through that veil is indistinctly seen, A dull, contracted circle, yielding light So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls, Checkering the ground — from rock, plant, tree or Tower, at length a pleasant instantaneous gleam Startles the pensive traveler while he treads His lonesome path, with unobserving eye Bent earthwards ; he looks up — the clouds are split Asunder : — and above his head he sees The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens. There, in a black-blue vault she sails along, Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small And sharp, and bright, along the dark abyss Drive as she drives : how fast they wheel away, Yet vanish not ! — the wind is in the tree. But they are silent ;— still they roll along Immeasurably distant ; and the vault, Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds, Still deepens its unfathomable depth. At length the Vision closes ; and the mind, Not undisturbed by the delight it feels, which Slowly settles into peaceful calm. Wordsworth. 1544 THE ART OF RENDERING A COTTAGE. I knew by the smoke, that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near ; And I said, ' If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here ! ' It was noon, and on flowers that languished around In silence reposed the voluptuous bee ; Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound But the woodpecker tapping the hollow beech-tree. And ' Here in this lone little wood, ' I exclaimed, With a maid who was lovely to soul and to eye, Who would blush when I praised her, and weep if 1 blamed, How blest could I live, and how calm could I die 1 Mooee. THE FIRE-FLY. This morning, when the earth and sky Were burning with the blush of spring, I saw thee not, thou humble fly ! Nor thought upon thy gleaming wing. But now the skies have lost their hue, And sunny lights no longer play, I see thee, and I bless thee too For sparkling o'er the dreary way. Oh ! let me hope that thus for me, When life and love shall lose their bloom, Some milder joys may come, like thee, To light, if not to warm the gloom ! Moore. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 155 A WATER-FOWL. Mark how the feathered tenants of the flood, With grace of motion that might scarcely seem Inferior to angelical, prolong Their curious pastime ! shaping in mid air (And sometimes with ambitious wing that soars High as the level oE the mountain-tops ) A circuit ampler than the lake beneath — Their own domain ; but ever, while intent On tracing and retracing that large round, Their jubilant activity evolves Hundreds of curves and circlets, to and fro, Upward and downward, progress intricate Yet unperplexed, as if one spirit swayed Their indefatigable flight. 'Tis done — Ten times, or more, I fancied it had ceased ; But lo ! the vanished company again Ascending: they approach — I hear their wings, Faint, faint at first ; and then an eager sound, Past in a moment — and as faint again ! They tempt the sun to sport amid their plumes : They tempt the water, or the gleaming ice, To show them a fair image ; 'tis themselves, Their own fair forms, upon the glimmering plain, Painted more soft and fair as they descend Almost to touch ; — then up again aloft, Up with a sally and a flash of speed, As if they scorned both resting-place and rest ! Wordsworth THE HAWK. Who but hails the sight with pleasure When the wings of genius rise Their ability to measure 156 THE ART OF RENDERING With great enterprise ; But in man was ne'er such daring As yon Hawk exhibits, pairing Tfi« brave spirit with the war in The stormy skies! Mark him, how his power he uses, Lays it by, at will resumes ! Mark, ere for his haunt he chooses Clouds and utter glooms ! There, he wheels in downward mazes Sunward now his flight he raises, Catches fire, as seems, and blazes With uninjured plumes ! WOEDSWOKTH. THE GREEN LINNET. Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed Their snow-white blossoms on my head With brightest sunshine round me spread Of spring's unclouded weather, In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard-seat ! And birds and flowers once more to greet, My last year's friends together. One have I marked, the happiest guest In all this covert of the blest : Hail to Thee, far above the rest In joy of voice and pinion ! Thou, Linnet ! in thy green array, Presiding Spirit here to-day, Dost lead the revels of the May ; And this is thy dominion. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 157 While birds, and butterflies and flowers, Make all one band of paramours, Thou, ranging up and down the bowers, Art sole in thy employment : A Life, a Presence like the Air, Scattering thy gladness without care Too blest with any one to pair ; Thyself thy own enjoyment. Amid yon tuft of hazel trees, That twinkle to the gusty breeze, Behold him perched in ecstacies, Yet seeming still to hover; There ! where the flutter of his wings Upon his back and body flings Shadows and sunny glimmerings, That cover him all over. My dazzled sight he oft deceives, A brother of the dancing leaves ; Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves Pours forth his song in gushes, As if by that exulting strain He mocked and treated with disdain The voiceless Form he choose to feign, While fluttering in the bushes. Wordsworth. THE SHIP. She comes majestic with her swelling sails The gallant Ship ; along her watery way Homeward she drives before the favoring gales. Now flirting at their length the streamers play, And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze. 158 THE ART OF RENDERING Hark to the sailors' shouts ! the rocks rebound, Thundering in echoes to the joyful sound. Long have they voyaged o'er the distant seas : And what a heart-delight they feel at last, So many toils, so many dangers past, To view the port desired, he only knows Who on the stormy deep for many a day Hath tost, aweary of his watery way, And watch'd, all anxious, every wind that blows. Southey, THE SPINNING WHEEL. Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel 1 Night has brought the welcome hour When the weary fingers feel Help, as if from fairy power ; Dewy night o'ershades the ground ; Turn the swift wheel round and round I Now, beneath the starry sky, Couch the widely-scattered sheep ; Ply the pleasant labor, ply ! For the spindle, while they sleep, Runs with speed more smooth and fine, Gathering up a trustier line. Short lived likings may be bred By a glance from fickle eyes ; But true love is like the thread Which the kindly wool supplies, When the flocks are all at rest Sleeping on the mountain's breast. WOEDSWORTH. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE 159 RAINBOW FALLS IN WATKINS GLEN. Watkins Glen consists properly of a number of glens or sections rising one above another, forming a series of rocky arcades, galleries and grottoes, subterranean at times, and again widening out into vast amphitheatres. It comprises a superficial area of nearly five hundred acres ; its general course is east and west ; its tortuous length extends over three miles, and its total ascent to the summit of the moun- tain above is eight hundred feet. This Great Natural Wonder is located at the head of the beautiful Seneca Lake, where is presented a charming combination picture of glen, mountain, lake and valley. Triple Cascade and Rainbow Falls is thought by many to be the finest in the glen. As its name indicates, it is formed of three portions, one above another, each different in form from the others and making a beautiful combina- tion. Directly opposite the Triple Cascade a little brook leaps over the brow of the great cliff nearly four hundred feet high, down into the glen, trickling over the irregular surface of the rock until it reaches a point thirty feet above the footpath, where it falls on a projecting rock, the edge of which is curved outward to form a shelf, this edgeor shelf is in a crescent form. The water descends in a myriad of tiny threads and drops, forming a sparkling crystal veil. While standing here and looking out through the misty curtain, the novelty of the position and the peculiar beauty that the radiant raindrops impart to everything viewed through them, fill us with wonder. It is beautiful beyond description. In the afternoon, when fair weather prevails, the rays of the sun fall into the gorge. The enraptured visitor looking through the veil may behold two most beau- tiful rainbows, a primary and a secondary, a sight that once enjoyed can never be forgotten. 160 THE ART OF RENDERING FIFTH STEP IN RENDERING. FORMING PICTURES. In this step the individual characters, scenes, situa- tions and objects found in selections to be rendered should be treated as directed in the Descriptive Style, with all pictures of the study combined into a composite whole, with scenes and characters, properly placed as to rank, and with effective background and lights. In working up the following studies, first gather in the full meaning of the selection : and often as much thought and study may be given to the reading of a study as the author has given in waiting it. In such a case it may be said : " Of equal honor with him who writes a grand poem is he who reads it grandly. " After securing a full comprehension of the study, its purpose, aim and UNITY, divide it into acts and scenes and action cf the characters. Picture the whole as if on a large canvas. Become familiar with it so as to tell it in your own language. Your fancy may add some little details or slight some unimportant points. Place in a high light the central idea even as the photographer focuses his camera on the point of chief interest. He may focus either on the person or the back- ground. The result is governed by the focus. In ten- dering, distinguish between essentials and accidentals. Let all lend itself to the essential, the unity. Giving essentials prominence is strength : accidentals, weakness. CULTURE OF THE IMAGINATION 161 It has been said, " Every one is mentally Consumptive whose powers of imagination are weak, for fancy is the lungs of the mind. " The Imagination, as well as the other great factors of the mind, Memory, Reason etc. may be so cultivated as to be of most practical value and to afford aesthetic pleasure as well. Through the culture of the Imagination is found a mighty means of training individuals from the condition of animal nature to that of spirit. Through its culture benevolent feelings and broad sympathies are developed. It is a well known fact that artists along the various lines are, as a class, most benevolent. Through an awakened imagination it is possible to feel, rea% for the unfortunate, to take their place, assume such character and act it. On the other hand the people who astonish with bluntness, selfishness and cruelty, because of feeble imaginative powers are unable to go out of self and take another person's place, but are self -centered. This precious faculty, the Imagination, should be culti- vated rather than repressed or allowed to run wild. When properly trained, it becomes an aid in quickening all the other mental faculties, and whipping the naturally sluggish brain into action. The material for the Imagination is held by Memory. Memory through the aid of Perception collects and holds the images. The Imagination rearranges this material to please the taste or fancy of the individuality. A per- son with small imaginative powers represents the bare image as memory holds it — the exact facts. A person with a large, active imagination would rearrange the facts, give effective touches here and there, expressions which are the choice of his own soul ; so when the image reaches the attention of the listener it is a new creation, a child of the speaker's personality, breathing with his own life. The mental action of the person who presents the emd 162 THE ART OF RENDERING image or impression, just as he saw it, may be likened to a photographer who makes his exposure haphazard, taking in all detail with realistic fidelity, the unsightly and beautiful. The mental action of the person who takes into his mind the exact image and turns it over, selecting and rejecting to please his own fancy, may recreate from his own personality ( always keeping within the bounds of truth ) that which is original and colored with his individuality. The expression may be made artistic even as a painting bya master who has selected only that in harmony with his theme, finishing all with touches of the ideal rather than the exactness of the real The impression made on the mind of the listener by the realistic is a feeling of having been annoyed by much that is uninteresting, while the impression made by the ar- tistic is most gratifying and lasting. The speaker with bare material facts tires and confuses the mind of the listener. The speaker who possesses the magical power of entering into the realm of the ideal, and as he appeals to the ideal, charms and entrances the listener. There are three distinct classes of readers and speakers. The most tedious — the least interesting is the speaker who gives words simply. The second class is more entertaining and is able to hold the attention of his listeners. He pre- sents ideas instead of words and creates realistic, well-defin- ed pictures. He gives much that is satisfying. The third gives that which is the artistic creation of his own mind and heart. With a noble personality, he charms and fas- cinates and gives that which cannot be forgotten. The last named gives the most for he gives with his reading, himself. The development of all the powers of the mind, Imag- ination no less than Reason, depends on judicious exercise. Ample exercise for the culture of the Imagination of a vigorous and wholesome character may be found in the broad fields of Nature, Literature, Music, Art and Religion. CULTURE OF THE IMAGINATION 163 The mind should search for its ideal material to use in building its own creations. Search for images in all forms of Life, Nature, Literature, Music, Art, Religion. The memory should be exact in its action. The greater the store of ideals, images, memory gems, the richer the ex- perience, the greater will be the resources at hand for new creations and the more expert will become the faculty of the Imagination in using its store. Train the mind to reflect. Create ideal scenes and char- acters. Think out such matters definitely, even as an art- ist. Give careful attention to the minute as well as the great. In rendering the writings of others, let the imagination play its part that you may not read words, but give ideas, even experiences, participating heartily in that rendered. Study that which is vast and sublime and that which is delicate and ethical. Study the characters portrayed by Dickens, Shakespeare and other writers. Become familiar with the notable char- acters of the Bible and History. Meditate on models of ex- cellence till you feel the influence and inspiration of their living presence. Literary companions afford excellent entertainment and profit when through fancy they are endowed with life, so in this way one need never lack for companionship. With a well trained Imagination, there is little dan- ger of IMITATION. The reader has such wealth of his own ideas there is no room for borrowed ways. The listener feels there is an abundance, a wealth in a personality that can give lavishly. With well-defined pictures living and glowing in the mind at the moment of utterance, it is not uncertain that something may take place quite as positive and wonderful 164 THE ART OF RENDERING as wireless telegraphy, even mental photography. With thought, which some tell us is the greatest force in the uni- verse, there seems to be power in certain minds to flash an idea or picture into the minds of others as it is in his own mind, making the listener conscious of his exact thought and feeling. On the other hand, it is not difficult to detect hollow words with no ideas back of them. Such words are vacant and empty like the stare of an idiot. When such a reader arises and calls for attention the minds of his listeners are invited to a feast only to be deluded with empty plates. The art of having something to give may be learned, and the host who takes pains to prepare his repast and serve it with a lavish hand may spread a feast to delight and satisfy the minds of his guests, a feast of good things not soon to be forgotten. Through the culture of the Imagination comes the much coveted grace of self-forgetfulness, so necessary in the public speaker. As the attention is fixed on the ideas to be given instead of self and what the audience may think, in giving the undivided attention to the thought is a refuge for self to hide behind the thought, gaining ease and freedom. The feelings play an important part in stimulating the imagination. We may never go beyond what we have ex- perienced in real feeling, yet we may so associate what is similar making it near experience. Under the sublime and beautiful, one may rise into the realm of the ideal. According to Sully we may classify the Imagination as Constructive, Receptive, Creative. Constructive — Repro- duction of images. Ability to elaborate new images. Receptive — as in reading ( studying ) a poem. Creative — as the poet creating the poem, — complex. Aids : Knowing things. Acquiring knowledge. Emotions. FORMING PICTURES 165 KING ROBERT OF SICILY. Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Appareled in magnificent attire, With retinue of many a knight and squire, On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat And heard the priests chant the Magnificat. And as he listened, o'er and o'er again Repeated like a burden or refrain, He caught the words, " Depomit potentes De sede et exaltavit hvmiles " • And slowly lifting up his kingly head, He to a learned clerk beside him said, " What mean these words? " The clerk made an- swer meet, " He has put down the mighty from their seat, And has exalted them of low degree. " Thereat King Robert muttered scornfully, " 'Tis well that such seditious words are sung Only by priests and in the Latin tongue ; For unto priests and people be it known, There is no power can push me from my throne 1 " And leaning back, he yawned and fell asleep, Lulled by the chant monotonous and deep. When he awoke it was already night ; The church was empty, and there was no light, Save where the lamps that glimmered few and faint, Lighted a little space before some saint. He started from his seat and gazed around, But saw no living thing and heard no sound. He groped towards the door, but it was locked ; He cried aloud, and listened, and then knocked, And uttered awful threatenings and complaints, 166 THE ART OF RENDERING And imprecations upon men and saints. The sounds re-echoed from the roof and walls As if dead priests were laughing in their stalls. At length the sexton, hearing from without The tumult of the knocking and the shout, And thinking thieves were in the house of prayer, Came with his lantern, asking," Who is there? " Half choked with rage, King Robert fiercely said, " Open : "t is I, the King ! Art thou afraid ? " The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse, " This is some drunken vagabond, or worse I " Turned the great key and flung the portal wide ; A man rushed by him at a single stride. Haggard, half naked, without hat or cloak, Who neither turned, nor looked at him, nor spoke, But leaped into the blackness of the night And vanished like a spectre from his sight. Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane And ValmondjEmperor of Allemaine, Despoiled of his magnificent attire, Bareheaded, breathless, and besprent with mire, With sense of wrong and outrage desperate, Strode on and thundered at the palace gate ; Rushed through the court-yard, thrusting in his rage To right and left each seneschal and page, And hurried up the broad and sounding stair, His white face ghastly in the torches' glare. From hall to hall he passed with breathless speed : Voices and cries he heard, but did not heed, Until at last he reached the banquet room, Blazing with light and breathing with perfume. There on the dais sat another king, FORMING PICTURES 167 Wearing his robes, his crown, his signet-ring, King Robert's self in feature, form and height, But all transfigured with angelic light ! It was an Angel ; and his presence there With a divine effulgence filled the air, An exaltation piercing the disguise, Though none the hidden Angel recognize. A moment speechless, motionless, amazed, The throneless monarch on the Angel gazed, Who met his look of anger and surprise With the divine compassion of his eyes ; Then said, " Who art thou? and why com'st thou here?" To which King Robert answered with a sneer, " I am the King, and come to claim my own Fiom an impostor, who usurps my throne I " And suddenly, at these audacious words, Up sprang the angry guests, and drew their swords ! The Angel answered with unruffled brow, " Nay, not the King, but the King's Jester, thou Henceforth shalt wear the bells and scalloped cape, And for tiiy counsellor shalt lead an ape ; Thou shalt obey my servants when they call, And wait upon my henchmen in the hall! " Deaf to King Robert's threats and cries and prayers, They thrust him from the hall and down the stairs ; A group of tittering pages ran before, And as they opened wide the folding-door, His heart failed, for he heard, with strange alarms, The boisterous laughter of the men-at-arms, And all the vaulted chamber roar and ring With the mock plaudits of " Long live the King ! *' Next morning, waking with the day's first beam, 168 THE ART OF RENDERING He said within himself, " It was a dream 1 " But the straw rustled as he turned his head, There were the cap and bells beside his bed, Around him rose the bare discolored walls, Close by, the steeds were champing in their stalls, And in the corner, a revolting shape, Shivering and chattering sat the wretched ape. It was no dream ; the world he loved so much Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch ! Days came and went ; and now returned again To Sicily the old Saturnian reign ; Under the Angel's governance benign The happy island danced with corn and wine, And deep within the mountain's burning breast Enceladus, the giant, was at rest. Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate, Sullen and silent and disconsolate, Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear, With look bewildered and a vacant stare, Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn, By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn, His only friend the ape, his only food What others left, — he still was unsubdued. And when the Angel met him on his way, And half in earnest, half in jest, would say, Sternly, though tenderly, that he might feel The velvet scabbard held a sword of steel, " Art thou the King ? " the passion of his woe Burst from him in resistless overflow, And, lifting high his forehead, he would fling The haughty answer back " I am, I am the King 1 " Almost three years were ended ; when there came FORMING PICTURES 169 Ambassadors of great repute and name From Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, Unto King Robert, saying that Pope Urbane By letter summoned them forthwith to come On Holy Thursday to his city of Rome. The Angel with great joy received his guests, And gave them presents of embroidered vests, And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined, And rings and jewels of the rarest kind. Then he departed with them o'er the sea Into the lovely land of Italy, Whose loveliness was more resplendent made By the mere passing of that cavalcade, With plumes, and cloaks, and housings, and the stir Of jeweled bridle and of golden spur. And lo 1 among the menials, in mock state, Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait, His cloak of fox-tails flapping in the wind, The solemn ape demurely perched behind, King Robert rode, making huge merriment In all the country towns through which they went. The Pope received them with great pomp and blare Of bannered trumpets, on Saint Peter's square, Giving his benediction, and embrace, Fervent, and full of apostolic grace. While with congratulations and with prayers He entertained the Angel unawares. Robert, the Jester, bursting through the crowd. Into their presence rushed, and cried aloud, " I am the King ! Look, and behold in me Robert, your brother, King of Sicily ! This man, who wears my semblance to your eyes, Is an impostor in a king's disguise.. 170 THE ART OF RENDERING Do you not know me? does no voice within Answer my cry, and say we are akin? " The Pope in silence, but with troubled mien, Gazed at the Angel's countenance serene ; The Emperor, laughing said, " It is strange sport To keep a madman for thy Fool at court ! " And the poor, baffled Jester in disgrace Was hustled back among the populace. In solemn state the Holy Week went by, And Easter Sunday. gleamed upon the sky ; The presence of the Angel, with its light, Before the sun rose, made the city bright, And with new fervor filled the hearts of men, Who felt that Christ indeed had risen again. Even the Jester, on his bed of straw, With haggard eyes the unwonted splendor saw, He felt within a power unfelt before, And, kneeling humbly on his chamber floor, He heard the rushing garments of the Lord Sweep through the silent air, ascending heavenward. And now the visit ending, and once more Valmond returning to the Danube's shore, Homeward the Angel journeyed, and again The land was made resplendent with his train, Flashing along the towns of Italy Unto Salerno, and from thence by sea. And when once more within Palermo's wall, And, seated on the throne in his great hall, He heard the Angel us from convent towers, As if the better world conversed with ours, He beckoned to King Robert to draw nigher, And with a gesture bade the rest retire ; And when they were alone, the Angel said, FORMING PICTURES 171 " Art thou the King ? " Then, bowing down his head, King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast, And meekly answered him : " Thou knowest best ! My sins as scarlet are ; let me go hence, And in some cloister's school of penitence, Across those stones, that pave the way to heaven, Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul be shriven ! " The Angel smiled, and from his radiant face A holy light illumined all the place, And through the open window, loud and clear, They heard the monks chant in the chapel near. Above the stir and tumult of the street : " He has put down the mighty from their seat, And has exalted them of low degree ! " And through the chant a second melody Rose like the throbbing of a single string ; " I am an Angel, and thou art the King ! " King Robert, who was standing near the throne, Lifted his eyes, and lo ! he was alone ! But all apparelled as in days of old, With ei mined mantle and with cloth of gold ; And when his courtiers came, they found him there Kneeling upon the floor, absorbed in silent prayer. Henky W. Longfellow. WORDS LIKE ARROWS. My own eyes filled with tears, when I saw that hers were closed. 1 had stopped in the village to ask about her, but no one had told me she was blind. " May I come in? " I swung the open gate with a little premeditated clatter. She smiled ever so sweetly. "' Yes, indeed, come in. 172 THE ART OF RENDERING I shall be very glad to see you. " Glad to see me. The pathos of the word stung me as I walked the flower-bordered path to the garden bench where she was sitting in the mellow June sunshine which turned her soft white hair to glistening silver. " Will you sit down ? '* She made room for me beside her and reached out her hand for mine. " You see now. adays hands help me to get acquainted. Ah, yours is soft and white I know, not hard and brown like mine. I always did like a pretty hand, and mine's always been so homely.'' " But it is beautiful to me. I know it has done so many useful things and many kind deeds. " " And yours ? It's fine and soft, but it isn't a lazy hand. I feel the strength and firmness in it. I am quite a dab at reading hands. " She laughed gently. " Now tell me truly, it isn't a lazy hand, is it? " " No ; not lazy, but I'm awfully afraid it has been a very selfish hand. " " Ah, my dear, that's the way we all feel. None of us are what we'd like to be, but it won't do to judge ourselves. Why, do you know, if I was to sit in judgment on myself I'd — why I'd sentence myself to everlasting unhappiness. " Oh no, you mustn't say so. " But I'm not judging myself, dear. I am leaving that to one who is much more loving and forgiving to us poor mor- tals than we can be to ourselves. '" She loosened the lingering hold of my hand which had thrilled me through and through and softly stroked the folds of mv gown. " Silk : not the shiny kind, but soft and rich. Is it black ? " " No, grey for travelling. " " You came from the city. I thought when you first spoke you were probably a summer boarder. They're al- ways real neighborly, but somehow you talk different from FORMING PICTURES 173 most of them. " " I have been in England for a long while. You know they speak differently over there. Perhaps I have picked up the English accent, and if s said the soft climate there affects the voice. " My youngest daughter used to want to go to England. She talked a lot about it. " " Did she? " I asked with the greatest interest. Yes ; she kind o' reached out for travel and books and pictures. She could paint quite tasty pictures herself. Would you like to see the one she did of the little school- house and the brook ? Her father had it framed for me the Christmas before he died. He got it down out of the attic where she'd put it when But wouldn't you like to see it 1 " " Yes ; if I may, after a while. " " You see, James her father, was president of the school board. Daisy was the brightest girl in school — everybody said so — and so it was kind of appropriate for her to make a picture of the old red building. I often wish she could see how fine it looks hanging over the mantel in the parlor. I generally rub my hands over it once or twice a day just to see that it is keeping all right and the gold frame isn't breaking off anywhere. When anybody comes in I usually ask if the paint is keeping bright. You see I set a good deal of store by it. " " Do you live here alone? " I asked. " Yes; all by myself. " " Aren't you lonely? " " I can't say that I am ever real lonesome, though of course I do get a little weary of the waiting sometimes. " Waiting* I asked myself. She couldn't mean that she was hoping or expecting to Oh, no she was too brave and cheery. 174 THE ART OF RENDERING " Yes ; I'm waiting. I've been waiting for years. My sons and my daughters, they're all married and living round here — all but the youngest — on farms mostly, though Lucinda married a preacher, and he often changes churches ; that is some comfort, for Lucinda has got convinced her- self now that it wouldn't do for me to be moving every whipstitch, so she doesnt ask me to live with her any more. If the others would only quit, I'd be a heap sight happier. I hate to be saying, no to my children all the time, and they think I am dreadfully set in my way ; and I suppose I am. I just tell them I would not be contented anywhere but right here in the old house where I've lived in since they were all babies. I don't mind having the little maid come every morning from the village to help me, for she's a nice child and I'm teaching her to sew and knit. There is the telephone, too, for company. I had one put in because I've heard how people can talk over them a long distance, and I might, you know, be called up some time from a very long way off. There ; 1 guess I'm getting garrulous. Tell me about yourself. I always like to know about people. " " Yes ; but not yet. First, I should like to know if you feel like telling me about the waiting? " " I knew when you sat down beside me I'd tell you sooner or later. There's some people I can't help pouring out my heart to, and when I can tell I like to do it for it might help. It's like shooting arrows into the air. You never ca ti tell where words, said to these city folks may land. I remember saying that to a young man that used to come to see me, and he agreed it was true, that words sent out couldn't always go astray — that surely some time theright person would hear them. He gave me a new courage— he was so strong, so helpfuL I've always wished he'd come back, but he never has. And — I just go on waiting. " " What was he like? " FORMING PICTURES 175 " He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a deep, gentle voice, and his eyes and hair were kind of tawny brown. T remember him very distinctly because he was the last person I saw before my blindness came. He was standing in the garden saying good-bye to me, and I was wondering why such a fine able-bodied man should paint pictures for a living when the darkness began to come. I thought it was just the heat or something, and I didn't say anything about it ; but when he was gone I started into the house and I found I was blind. " •' Oh! " I shuddered, " how terribly sudden. " " Yes, it was sudden, and the worst of it all was that I knew after all my long waiting I'd never see Daisy when she comes back. You see, my dear, I'm waiting for my youngest daughter. Whenever she comes back she'll find her mother waiting for her in the old home. Some- times I think if she had only been a little more patient when her father refused to let her go to the city to stadyhe might have been brought round to it. But she was determined and enthusiastic, like all young folks I guess. It would be a dull world if they weren't so, wouldn't it? She told him she would surely go some day, and he grew very angry and said dreadful bitter words that he did not mean — oh, I know he didn't mean them. He told her that if she left home against his wishes that would be the end, that she need never come back. I ought to have spoken up then and made him see how wrong he was, but it was always my way to kind of wait on father's moods, and he usually came round to my way of thinking, sort of dismounting from his high horse in the dark you know. But I've wished many and many a time that I had spoken up and asserted Daisy's rights. That's what I ought to have done, but I guess I was always too peace-loving, and I didn't realise until she was gone that 176 THE ART OF RENDERING I might have saved us all a lot of unhappiness, if I'd been a little more high-spirited. When father found she had left without a word he was terribly angry and he wouldn't talk of her to me at all, but I knew afterwards that he tried to trace her in the city, but it was no use. She had disap- peared completely. Oh, those were dreary days. " " Cruel, cruel days, " I cried. " It wasn't till that last Christmas, when father had the schoolhouse picture framed and hung over the mantel I was sure he was sorry and loving. He couldn't talk about her, but when we sat down before the fire Christmas night he took my hand and said, ' It's some comfort, ain't it, mother!' and I knew just as well as if he had talked a whole chapter that his heart cried out for his baby girl, Daisy, as much as mine did. Somehow we were a good deal happier after that. He died the next fall, and I've been here ever since just waiting. " " How long ago is that? " " Almost four years now. " " Four years? Oh, what a useless tragedy ! You know what you said about your words falling like arro ws ? Well, that voung man to whom you told the story repeated it wherever he went, and he was a great wanderer. " " Why, bless me, did you know him? '" " Yes ; I heard him tell the story in a little summer camp of artists on the Scilly Isles, a part of England, you know, and he said moreover that he had vowed that if he ever found your Daisy he would bring her back to you. " " Did he? God bless him ! My, how little and near to- gether this great big, wide-spread world is after all. Just to think you have seen him way off there across the water. " " And — and how can I tell you? He has kept his word. He has married your Daisy and — " " Where— where is she? " the dear old voice rang FORMING PICTURES 177 out with a penetrating agony of hope that stopped my heart's beating for an instant, but 1 was afraid to speak. T sank down on the ground at her knee and reached my arms around her waist. Where — where is she I say? " Here, marmsie, " I cried in a ciioking voice, using my old baby-girl name for her. " My child, my child ! " She passed her hands over my face, and as I rose and took her in my arms and kissed her again and again she murmured, " And sometimes I doubt- ed — Lreally dared to doubt — the goodness of God. Oh my child, my baby Daisy I " Then there was a rattle at the gate and a tall tawny-haired man with the kindest eyes in the world came into the garden and encircled us both in his strong, loving arms. The Sphere. A DAY IN THE MOUNTAINS. We commenced our journey to Placid Lake, forty-two miles distant, at daybreak. The mountain air was chill and invigorating, our horses were fresh and we were soon deep in the forest. One who has never experienced it can scarcely appreciate the feeling of isolation that comes over one on finding himself on a nairow trail in the forest sur- rounded and shut in on all sides by tall pine trees into whose depths he can peer at times but a few yards, yet it is by no means a monotonous isolation for the wood is full of variety and abounds with life. Squirrels and chipmunks chattered and scolded us from the branches of the trees as if they would dispute our right to trespass on the property nature had provided for them. Babbits scurried across our path. Prairie chickens flew clumsily out of our way to some neighboring boughs from which they watched us with a look i78 THE ART OF RENDERING of innocent wonder. Sometimes our trail led us along the banks of the Big Blackfoot River, sometimes over precipi- tous mountain spurs, sometimes through deep ravines with only a narrow passage through the tangled undergrowth, sometimes across broad valleys looking for all the world like well-kept Parks with the trees set out singly or in groups in a beautiful greensward. One of these ideal re- treats in the heart of the mountains appeared to be a dining- room for our noonday meal. We sat by the side of a de- lightful stream of clear, cool water and ate and drank with a real mountain appetite rendered keen by an early break- fast and long ride. Our dessert grew all around in a plen- tiful supply of huckleberries and wild strawberries. Resuming our journey, our trail now led us up a steep mountain side, so steep we were obliged to dismount, at times, and lead our horses. Reaching the crest, we were amply re- paid for our labor. This vantage afforded us a view of the surrounding country, or the surrounding forests, mile upon mile of dense forests as far as the eye could reach over mountain and valley, one vast ocean of pine trees with no sign of human life or habitation. After feasting our eyes awhile we began our descent of the other side of the mountain, which was almost as dif- ficult as our ascent On reaching the valley below, two or three miles of trail through matted thickets and over fallen trees brought us to the shore of Placid Lake. Our trail lay along the northern shore. A more beautiful sheet of water it would be hard to imagine. Surrounded on all sides by the pine-clad mountains, it is as placid and still as a mir- ror and like a mirror reflects the dark green of its surround- ings till looking from shore to shore it is about impossible to distinguish between shadow and reality — to tell where the' water leaves off and the wood commences. To make the picture more perfect a stag stood on the further shore FORMING PICTURES 179 suspiciously sniffing the air. When one of our horses struck his foot against a rock, the stag bounded off into the depths of the woods. One hour's ride brought us to the little secluded settle- ment and the ranch-house where we were to spend the night. The inhabitants do not often get a glimpse of the outside world for they are forty -two miles from the nearest post- office and seventy miles from the nearest railway. The people are simple in their tastes and their wants are few. They live in comparative happiness far from the noise and strife of the commercial world. One can scarcely im- agine that such a restful, sequestered, natural retreat could exist in this land of strenuous endeavor. Our awival from the outside world caused quite a com- motion. We were greeted at the door of the log cabin by the whole family including numerous dogs and cats and other household pets. The children, little, ragged, tow- headed urchins wild as their own surroundings, watched us stealthily from behind doors and articles of furniture but instantly disappeared if we chanced to look in their direc- tion. Supper was hastened on our account. And such a supper! steak cut from fresh venison, home-made bread, potatoes and coffee. After our long day's ride in the invigorating mountain air, it tasted good beyond comparison. After supper we went outside to chat and watch the sun- set, the crowning glory of a glorious day in the mountains. Two colossal mountain peaks away in the west with their intervening spaces formed the pillars and gateway through which the sun made his majestic farewell amid a riot of changing glory. In the background behind the mountain portals, massive fleecy clouds had rolled themselves into a gigantic mass of mountain and valley till they looked like some fair, distant land where light and shade combined to make a scene of splendor. A land sunkissed till every 180 THE ART OF RENDERING cloud-mountain and valley glowed in colors of gold and am- ber and pink and crimson. Gradually this magnificent cloud-country melted away in more subdued and softer tints, quietly slipping into space till at last one little, lonely silver tipped, roseate tinted cloud remained. This too faded and disappeared. The shadows grew long in the valley. The long-drawn, dismal cry of the coyote rallying for noc- turnal adventures and the chill air reminded us that the day was done and we went in to sleep on a forest-made, fragrant bed of pine boughs. Prom " A Western Trip. " Rev. David W. Fekky. LAKE GRASMERE Clouds, lingering yet, extend in solid bars Through the gray west ; and lo I these waters, steeled By breezeless air to smoothest polish, yield A vivid repetition of the stars ; Jove, Venus, and the ruddy crest of Mars Amid his fellows beauteously revealed At happy distance from earth's groaning field, "Where ruthless mortals wage incessant wars. Is it a mirror? — or the nether Sphere Opening to view the abyss in which she feeds Her own calm fires ? — But list ! a voice is near ; Great Pan himself low-whispering through the reeds, " Be thankful, thou ; for, if unholy deeds Ravage the world, tranquillity is here I " Wordsworth. Those evening clouds, that setting ray, and beauteous tints, serve to display their great Creator's praise ; then let the short lived thing call'd man, whose life is comprised within a span, to Him his homage raise. Scott. COLOSSAL PICTURES 181 SIXTH STEP IN RENDERING. VITAL, ANIMATED PICTUKES AND SCENES. In Vitalized or Animated pictures, have in mind not only a picture but the Scene itself in full, true in action and magnitude. Let the pictures in the mind become reality, then there will be no danger of forcing the voice. THE SHIPWRECK. I opened the yard gate and looked into the empty street. The sand, the seaweed, and the flakes of foam were driving by, and I was obliged to call for assistance before I could shut the gate again, and make it fast against the wind. There was a dark gloom in my lonely chamber, when I at length returned to it ; but I was tired now, and getting in- to bed again, fell into the depths of sleep until broad day ; when I was aroused at eight or nine o'clock by some one knocking or calling at my door. " What is the matter? " " A wreck ! close by ! " " What wreck? "> " A schooner from Spain or Portugal, laden with fruit and wine. Make haste, sir, if you want to see her ! It's thought down on the beach she'll go to pieces every mo- ment. " 1 wrapped myself in my clothes as quickly as I could, and ran into the street, where numbers of people were be- fore me, all running in one direction, — to the beach. I ran the same way, outstripping a good many, and soon came 182 THE ART OF RENDERING facing the wild sea. Every appearance it had before pre- sented bore the expression of being swelled ; and the height to which the breakers rose and bore one another down, and rolled in, in interminable hosts, was most appalling. In the difficulty of hearing anything but wind and waves, and in the crowd, and the unspeakable confusion, and my first breathless efforts to stand against the weather, I was so confused that I looked out to sea for the wreck, and saw nothing but the foaming heads of the great waves. A boatman laid a hand upon my arm and pointed. Then I saw it, close in upon us. One mast was broken short off, six or eight feet from the deck, and lay over the side, entangled in a maze of sail and rigging : and all that ruin, as the ship rolled and beat, — which she did with a violence quite inconceivable, — beat the side as if it would stave it in. Some efforts were being made to cut this portion of the wreck away ; for, as the ship, which was broadside on, turned toward us in her rolling, I plainly descried her people at work with axes — especially one active figure, with long curling hair. But a great cry, audible even above the wind and water, rose from the shore ; the sea, sweeping over the wreck, made a clean breach, and carried men, spars, casks, planks, bulwarks, heaps of such toys, into the boiling surge. The second mast was yet standing, with the rags of a sail, and a wild confusion of broken cordage, flapping to and fro. The ship had struck once, the same boatman said, and then lifted in, and struck again. I understood him to add that she was parting amidships. As he spoke, there was another great cry of pity from the beach. Four men arose with the wreck out of the deep, clinging to the rigging of the re- mainingmast; uppermost, the active figure with the curling hair. There was a bell on board ; and as the ship rolled and dashed, this bell rang ; and its sound, the knell of those un- COLOSSAL PICTURES 183 happy men, was borne toward us on the wind. Again we lost her, and again she rose. Two of the four men were gone. I noticed that some new sensation moved the people on the beach, and I saw them part, and Ham come breaking through them to the front. Instantly I ran to him, for I divined that he meant to wade off with the rope. I held him back with both arms ; and implored the men not to listen to him, not to let him stir from that sand. Another cry arose, and we saw the cruel sail, with blow on blow, beat off the lower of the two men, and fly up in triumph round the active figure left alone upon the mast. Against such a sight, and against such determination as that of the calmly desperate man, who was already accus- tomed to lead half the people present, I might as hopefully have entreated the wind. I was swept away to some distance, where the people a. round me made me stay ; urging, as I confusedly perceived, that he was bent on going, with help or without, and that I should endanger the precautions for his safety by troubling those with whom they rested. I saw hurry on the beach, and men running with ropes, and penetrating into a circle of figures that hid him from me. Then I saw him standing alone, in a seaman's frock and trousers, a rope in his hand, another round his body, and several of the best men holding to the latter. The wreck was breaking up. I saw that she was parting in the middle, and that the life of the solitary man upon the mast hung by a thread. He had a singular red cap on, not like a sailor's cap, but of a finer color ; and as the few planks between him and destruction rolled and bulged, and as his death-knell iung, he was seen by all of us to wave this cap. I saw him do it now, and thought I was going distracted, when his action brought an old remembrance to 184 THE ART OF RENDERING my mind of a once dear friend, the once dear friend, — Steerforth. Ham watched the sea until there was a great retiring wave ; when he dashed in after it, and in a moment was buffeting with the water, rising with the hills, falling with the valleys, lost beneath the foam, — borne in toward the shore, borne on toward the ship. At length he neared the wreck. He was so near, that with one more of his vigorous strokes he would be clinging to it, when a high, green, vast hill-side of water moving on shoreward from beyond the ship, he seemed to leap up into it with a mighty bound, — and the ship was gone ! They drew him to my very feet, insensible, dead. He was carried to the nearest house, and every means of res- toration was tried ; but he had been beaten to death by the great wave, and his generous heart was stilled forever. As I sat beside the bed, when hope was abandoned, and all was done, a fisherman who had known me when Emily and I were children, and ever since, whispered my name at the door. " Sir, will you come over yonder? " The old remembrance that had been recalled to me was in his look, and I asked him, *' Has a body come ashore? " " Yes. " " Do I know it? " He answered nothing. But he led me to the shore. And on that part of it where she and I had looked for shells, two children, — on that part of it where some lighter fragments of the old boat blown down last night had been scattered by the wind, — among the ruins of the home he had wronged, — I saw him lying with his head upon his arm, as I had often seen him lie at school. " David Copperfield. " Charles Dickens. COLOSSAL PICTURES 185 ERUPTION OP MOUNT VESUVIUS. " To the lion with the Egyptian. " With that cry up sprang — on moved — thousands upon thousands ! They rushed from the heights — they poured down in the direction of the Egyptian The power of the praetor was as a reed beneath the whirlwind ; still, at his word the guards had drawn themselves along the lower benches, on which the upper classes sat separate from the vulgar. They made but a feeble barrier — the waves of the human sea halted for a moment to enable Arbaces to count the exact moment of his doom I In despair, and in a terror which beat down even his pride, he glanced his eyes over the rolling and rushing crowd — when, right above them, through the wide chasm which had been left in the velaria, he beheld a strange and awful apparition — he be- held — and his craft restored his courage ! He stretched his hand on high ; over his lofty brow and royal features there came an expression of unutterable so- lemnity and command. " Behold ! " he shouted with a voice of thunder, which stilled the roar of the crowd ; " behold how the gods pro- tect the guiltless ! The fires of the avenging Orcus burst forth against the false witness of my accusers ! " The eyes of the crowd followed the gesture of the Egyp- tian, and beheld, with ineffable dismay, a vast vapor shoot iug from the summit of Vesuvius, in the form of a gigantic pine-tree ; the trunk, blackness, — the branches, fire ! — a fire that shifted and wavered in its hues with every moment, now fiercely luminous, now of a dull and dying red, that again blazed terrifically forth with intolerable glare .' There was a dead, heart-sunken silence — through which there suddenly broke the roar of the lion, which was ech- oed back from within the building by the sharper and fiercer 186 THE ART OF RENDERING yells of its fellow-beast. Dread seers were they of the Burden of the Atmosphere, and wild prophets of the wrath to'come ! Then there arose on high the universal shrieks of women ; the men stared at each other, but were dumb. At that moment they felt the earth shake beneath their feet ; tho walls of the theatre trembled ; and, beyond in the distance, they heard the crash of falling roofs ; an instant more and the mountain-cloud seemed to roll towards them, dark and rapid, like a torrent ; at the same time, it cast forth from its bosom a shower of ashes mixed with vast fragments of burn- ing stone ! Over the crushing vines, — over the desolate streets, — over the amphitheatre itself, — far and wide, — with many a mighty splash in the agitated sea, — fell that awful shower ! No longer thought the crowd of justice or of Arbaces ; safety for themselves was their sole thought. Each turned to fly — each dashing, pressing, crushing, against the other. Trampling recklessly over the fallen — amidst groans, and oaths, and prayers, and sudden shrieks, the enormous crowd vomited itself forth through the numerous passages. Whith- er should they fly ? Some, anticipating a second earthquake, hastened 'to their homes to load themselves with their most costly goods, and escape while it was yet time ; others, dreading the shower of ashes that now fell fast, torrent up- on torrent, over the streets, rushed under the roofs of the nearest houses, or temples, or sheds — shelter of any kind — for protection from the terrors of the open air. But darker and larger, and mightier, spread the cloud above them. It was a sudden and more ghastly Night rushing upon the realm of Noon 1 . . . . " Gods ! — how the darkness gathers ! Ho, ho ; — by yon terrific mountain, what sudden blazes of lightning ! — Hades is loosed on earth ! " " Last Days of Pompeit. " Sir Buwer Lytton. COLOSSAL PICTURES 187 THE BURNING OF MOSCOW. The bright moon rose over the mighty city, tipping with silver the domes of more than two hundred churches, and pouring a flood of light over a thousand palaces and the dwellings of three hundred thousand inhabitants. The weary army sunk to rest, but there was no sleep for Mortier's eyes. Not the gorgeous and variegated palaces and their rich ornaments, nor the parks and gardens and oriental magnificence that everywhere surrounded him, kept him wakeful, but the ominous foreboding that some dire calam- ity was hanging over the silent capital. * * * O, it was a scene of woe and fear inconceivable and in- describable ! A mighty and closely packed city of houses, and churches, and palaces, wrapped from limit to limit in flames, which are fed by a whirling hurricane, is a sight the world will seldom see. But this was within the city. To Napoleon, without, the scene was still more sublime and terrific. When the flames had overcome all obstacles, and had wrapped every- thing in their red mantle, that great city looked like a sea of rolling fire, swept by a tempest that drove it into billows. Huge domes and towers, throwing off sparks like blazing firebrands, now disappeared in their maddening flow, as they rushed and broke high over their tops, scattering their spray of fire against the clouds. The heavens themselves seemed to have caught the conflagration, and the angry masses that swept it rolled over a bosom of fire. Columns of flame would rise and sink along the surface of this sea, and huge volumes of black smoke suddenly shoot into the air, as if volcanoes were working below. The black form of the Kremlin alone towered above the chaos, now wrapped in flame and smoke, again emerged into view, standing amid this scene of desolation and terror, like Virtue in the midst of a burning world, enveloped but unscathed 188 THE ART OF RENDERING by the devouring elements. Napoleon stood and gazed on the scene in silent awe. Though nearly three miles distant, the windows and walls of his apartments were so hot that he could scarcely bear his hand against them. Said he years afterward : " It was a spectacle of a sea and billows of fire, a sky and clouds of flame, mountains of red rolling flames, like immense waves of the sea, alternately bursting forth and elevating themselves to the skies of flame below. O, it was the most grand, the most sublime, and the most terrific sight the world ever beheld. " Abridged. J. T. Headley. VISION OF THE HEAVENLY JERUSALEM. A nd he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, having the glory of God : and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal ; and had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, and names written thereon, which are the names of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel : on the east three gates; on the north three gates; on the south three gates; and on the west three gates. And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. And he that talked with me had a golden reed to measure the city, and the gates thereof, and the wall thereof. And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as large as the breadth ; and he measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length and the breadth and the height of it are equal. And he measured the wall thereof, an hundred and forty and four cubits, according to the meas- ure of a man, that is, of the angel. And the building of COLOSSAL PICTURES 189 the wall of it was of jasper : and the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass. And the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper ; the second, sapphire ; the third, a chalcedony ; the fourth, an emerald ; the fifth, sar- donyx; the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolyte; the eighth, beryl ; the ninth, a topaz ; the tenth, a chrysoprasus ; the eleventh, a jacinth ; the twelfth, an amethyst. And the twelve gates were twelve pearls ; every several gate was of one pearl : and the street of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass. And I saw no temple therein : for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. And the nations of them which are saved shall walk in the light of it : and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honor into it. And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day : for there shall be no night there. And they shall bring the glory and honor of the nations into it. And there shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie : but they which are written in the Lamb's book of life. Revelation XXI. St. John. Beneath there sate on many a sapphire throne The great who had departed from mankind, A mighty senate ; some, whose white hair shone Like mountain-snow, mild, beautiful, and blind ; Some female forms, whose gestures beamed with mind; And ardent youths, and children bright and fair ; And some had lyres whose strings were intertwined With pale and clinging flames. «' Revolt op Islam. " Shelley. 190 THE ART OF RENDERING SEVENTH STEP IN RENDERING. IDEAL PICTURES. Ideal pictures, or unreal, poetic, fanciful creations of the imagination should be living in the mind vividly, even as the real, substantial pictures. They should be rendered with a touch of delicacy and artistic finesse and poetic suggestiveness, avoiding too much realism. From the fact that ideal, unreal pictures are not so common as the actual and the real, some minds fail to grasp them so readily. Some of Moore's poems: " Lalla Rookh, " " The Sylph's Ball, " and Tennyson's " Merman, " and " Mermaid " present unreal pictures. Real objects, small and delicate, should be pictured as close at hand and should be portrayed with fitting expression. THE SEA FAIRIES. Slow sail'd the weary mariners and saw. Betwixt the green brink and the running foam, Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest To little harps of gold ; and while they mused, Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle sea. Whither away, whither away, whither away ? fly no more. WLither away from the high green field, and the happy blossoming shore ? Day and night to the billow the fountain calls : IDEAL PICTURES 191 Down shower the gambolling waterfalls From wandering over the lea : Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the clover-hill swells High over the full-toned sea : O hither, come hither and furl your sails, Come hither to me and to me : Hither, come hither and frolic and play ; Here it is only the mew that wails ; We will sing to you all the day : Mariner, mariner, furl your sails, For here are the blissful downs and dales, And merrily merrily carol the gales, And the spangle dances in bight and bay, And the rainbow forms and flies on the land Over the islands free ; And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand ; Hither, come hither and see ; And the rainbow hangs on the poising wave, And sweet is the colour of cove and cave, And sweet shall your welcome be : O hither, come hither, and be our lords, For merry brides are we : We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words : Oh listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten With pleasure and love and jubilee : When the sharp clear twang of the golden chords Runs up the ridged sea. Who can light on as happy a shore All the world o'er, all the world o'er? Whither away ? listen and stay : mariner, mariner, fly no more. Tennyson. 192 THE ART OF RENDERING PAKADISE AND THE PERL One morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood, disconsolate ; And as she listened to the springs Of life within, like music flowing, And caught the light upon her winga Through the half -open portal glowing, She wept to think her recreant race Should e'er have lost that glorious place! " How happy, " exclaimed this child of air, " Are the holy spirits who wander there, 'Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall! Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, One blossom of heaven outblooms them all ! " The glorious angel who was keeping The gates of light beheld her weeping ; And, as he nearer drew and listened, A tear within his eyelids glistened. — "' Nymph of a fair but erring line ! " Gently he said, " one hope is thine. Tis written in the book of fate, The Peri yet may be forgiven, Who brings to this eternal gate The gift that is most dear to Heaven ! Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin ; Tis sweet to let the pardoned in ! " Rapidly as comets run To the embraces of the sun, Down the blue vault the Peri flies, And, lighted earthward by a glance That just then broke from morning's eyes, IDEAL PICTURES 193 Hung hovering o'er our world's expanse. Over the vale of Baalbec winging, The Peri sees a child at play, Among the rosy wild-flowers singing, As rosy and as wild as they ; Chasing with eager hands and eyes, The beautiful blue damsel-flies That fluttered round the jasmine stems, Like winged flowers or flying gems : And near the boy, who, tired with play, Now nestling 'mid the roses lay, She saw a wearied man dismount From his hot steed, and on the brink Of a small temple's rustic fount Impatient fling him down to drink. Then swift his haggard brow he turned To the fair child, who fearless sat — Though never yet hath day-beam burned Upon a brow more fierce than that — Sullenly fierce — a mixture dire, Like thunder-clouds of gloom and fire, In which the Peri's eye could read Dark tales of many a ruthless deed. Yet tranquil now that man of crime ( As if the balmy evening time Softened his spirit ) looked and lay, Watching the rosy infant's play ; Though still, whene'er his eye by chance Fell on the boy's its lurid glance Met that unclouded, joyous gaze, As torches that have burnt all night Encounter morning's glorious rays. 194 THE ART OF RENDERING But hark ! the vesper call to prayer, As slow the orb of daylight sets, Is rising sweetly on the air From Syria's thousand minarets ! The boy has started from the bed Of flowers, where he had laid his head, And down upon the fragrant sod Kneels, with his forehead to the south, Lisping th' eternal name of God From purity's own cherub mouth ; And looking, while his hands and eyes Are lifted to the glowing skies, Like a stray babe of paradise, Just lighted on that flowery plain. And seeking for its home again I And how felt he, the wretched man Reclining there — while memory ran O'er many a year of guilt and strife That marked the dark flood of his life, Nor found one sunny resting-place, Nor brought him back one branch of grace? — '" There was a time, " he said, in mild, Heart-humbled tones, " thou blessed child ! When young, and haply pure as thou, I looked and prayed like thee ; but now " — He hung his head ; each nobler aim And hope and feeling which had slept From boyhood's hour, that instant came Fresh o'er him, and he wept — he wept! And now ! behold him kneeling there, By the child's side in humble prayer, While the same sunbeam shines upon The guilty and the guiltless one, IDEAL PICTURES 195 And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven The triumph of a soul forgiven ! Twas when the golden orb had set, While on their knees they lingered yet, There fell a light more lovely far Than ever came from sun or star — Upon the tear that, warm and meek, Dewed that repentant sinner's cheek : To mortal eye this light might seem A northern flash or meteor beam ; But well th' enraptured Peri knew 'Twas a bright smile the angel threw From heaven's gate, to hail that tear — Her harbinger of glory near ! " Joy ! joy ! " she cried ; " my task is done — The gates are passed, and heaven is won ! " Abridged. Thomas Mooke. TO A SKYLARK. Hail to thee, blithe spirit — Bird thou never wert — That from heaven or near it Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. Higher still and higher Prom the earth thou springest, Like a cloud of fire ; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. 196 THE ART OF RENDERING In the golden lightning Of the sunken sun, O'er which clouds are bright'ning, Thou dost float and run, Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. The pale purple even Melts around thy flight ; Like a star of heaven, In the broad daylight Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight. Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear, Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there. All the earth and air With thy voice is loud, As when night is bare, From one lonely cloud The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed. What thou art we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow-clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see As from thy presence showers a rain of mel- ody:— Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, IDEAL PICTURES 197 Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: Like a high-born maiden In a palace tower, Soothing her love-laden Soul in secret hour With music sweet as love which overflows her bower : Like a glow-worm golden In a dell of dew, Scattering un beholden Its aerial hue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view : Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy- winged thieves. Sound of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain-awakened flowers, — All that ever was, Joyous and clear and fresh, — thy music doth surpass. Teach us, sprite or bird, What sweet thoughts are thine : I have never heard Praise of love sublime 198 THE ART OF RENDERING That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. Chorus hymeneal Or triumphal chaunt, Matched with thine, would be all But an empty vaunt — A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain ? What fields, or waves, or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain ? What love of thine own kind ? What igno ranee of pain ? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be : Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee : Thou loveBt, but ne'er knew love's had satiety. Waking or asleep, Thou of death must deem Things more true and deep Than we mortals dream, Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? We look before and after, And pine for what is not : Our sincerest laughter With some pain is fraught ; Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. IDEAL PICTURES 199 Yet, if we could scorn Hate and pride and fear, If we were things born Not to shed a tear, I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. Better than all measures Of delightful sound, Better than all treasures That in books are found, Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground ! Teach me half the gladness That thy brain must know ; Such harmonious madness From my lips would flow The world should listen then as I am listen- ing now. Shelley. A child had blown a bubble fair That floated in the sunny air : A hundred rainbows danced and swung Upon its surface, as it hung In films of changing color rolled, Crimson, and amethyst, and gold, With faintest streaks of azure sheen, And curdling rivulets of green. " If so the surface shines, " cried he, " What marvel must the centre be! " He caught it — on his empty hands A drop of turbid water stands ! Sill. 200 THE ART OF RENDERING EIGHTH STEP IN RENDERING. SLIDES OF THE VOICE. In the Slides of the Voice lies the music of speech. The slides make the tune to which a thing is said. This tune discloses unconsciously, the most subtle, inner- most thought and feeling. The slides, tune or running commentary on the words is a language in itself the nearest to music, which is the universal language. The slides are often more significant and expressive than the words themselves. This music of speech not only reveals thought and feeling, but clothes the language with beauty and makes it attractive. Slide is to speech what ornamentation is to architecture. By it beauty is added to utility. The decoration in architecture is found in arches, window tracery, parapet and pinnacles overlaid with elaborate carvings etc. All that is attractive and beautiful in any art is the product of thought. This is particularly so in the music of speech. Through thought and feeling only, may the voice attain attractive, musical elements. A piece of common cloth may be enriched and made attractive with elaborate embroidery or used as a canvas for a costly work of art. The value of the cloth is increased by the amount of thought put into it: so may a common, every-day voice become beautiful and attract' SLIDES OF THE VOICE 201 ive by enriching the mind and heart. Try to get out of a study all there is in it. Beautiful slides in the voice do not come by chance but from inherent beauty of spirit and a full appreciation of the matter given. Learn to come sympathetically in touch with the great minds of literature, get their thoughts. Do not go out of self to do this but add others to self, then the music will come, not enforced, but true. Make all persuasive rather than argumentative. Persuasion is more effective than argument. Argument is often a challenge to a quarrel and to strike back. Persuasion leaves the mind free from antagonism, ready to follow on in the thought. HAMLET'S INSTRUCTION TO THE PLAYERS. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, — trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spake my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand thus, but use all gently ; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwiud of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. Oh ! it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious, periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, — to very rags, — to split the ears of the groundlings ; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb show and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant : it out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it. 202 THE ART OF RENDERING Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word ; the word to the action ; with this special observance — that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature ; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing ; whose end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold, as 't were, the mirror up to na- ture ; — to show virtue her own feature ; scorn her own im- age ; and the very age and body of the time, his form and pressure. Now this, overdone or come tardy off, though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of which one, must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theater of others. Oh ! there be players, that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, or man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought that some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, — they imitated hu- manity so abominably ! " Hamlet. " Shakespeare. PORTIA'S PLEA FOR MERCY. The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven, Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless'd, It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : ' Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown : His scepter shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings. But mercy is above his sceptered sway, SLIDES OF THE VOICE 203 It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself ; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this,— That in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation ; we do pray for mercy ; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much To mitigate the justice of thy plea ; Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. " Merchant of Venice. " Shakespeare. POLONIUS* ADVICE TO LAERTES- Farewell. My blessing with you : And, these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel ; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel ; but, being in, Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice : Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy ; rich, not gaudy : For the apparel oft proclaims the man : And they in France, of the best rank and station, Are most select and generous, chief in that. 204 THE ART OF RENDERING Neither a borrower, nor a lender be : For loan oft loses both itself and friend ; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all, — to thine own self be true ; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. " Hamlet. " Shakespeare. THANATOPSIS. To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty ; and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart, — ■ Go forth, under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around — Earth and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice : — Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form is laid with many tears, SLIDES OF THE VOICE 205 Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements, — To be a brother to the insensible rock, And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold. Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone — nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers, of ages past, All in one mighty sepulcher. The hills Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun, — the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between ; The venerable woods — rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe, are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, 206 THE ART OF RENDERING Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead there reign alone. So shalt thou rest, — and what if thou withdraw Unheeded by the living — and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glide away, the sons of men, The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years, matron, and maid, And the sweet babe, and the gray-headed man — Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those who, in their turn, shall follow them. So live, that, when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave, at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies dowD to pleasant dreams. William Cullen Bryant. SLIDES OF THE VOICE 207 NINTH STEP IN RENDERING. VITAL SLIDE. Thought gives a slide in the voice, but feeling makes it Vital. Emotional speech prolongs the vowel. Emo- tional language requires longer slides than mental or didactic speech. The last named would be but inflec- tion as compared with the Vital Slide or the slide col- ored with emotion. Thought gives inflection to the consonant: feeling swells, out or makes a slide on the emphatic vowel. Long Vital Slide is marked in expressions of Sur- prise, Exclamation, Emphatic Interrogation, Supplica- tion and other strong emotions. WOLSEY TO CROMWELL. Cromwell, I did iiot think to shed a tear, In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. And — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, — say, I taught thee ; Say, Wolsey — that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor — Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ; A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it. Mark but my fall, and that that ruined me, 208 THE ART OF RENDERING Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels : how can man, then, The image of his Maker hope to win by 't ? Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty : Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's ; then if thou f all'st, O Crom- well, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr ! Serve the king ; And Prithee, lead me in : There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny ; 'tis the king's ; my robe, And my integrity to Heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. " King Henry viii. " Shakebpeaee. PRINCE ARTHUR Hubert. Heat me those irons hot ; and look thou stand Within the arras. When I strike my foot Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth And bind the boy which you shall find wi' me Fast to the chair ; be heedful ; hence, and watch. 1st. Execu. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed. Hub. Uncleanly scruples ! fear not you ; look to't. SLIDES OF THE VOICE 209 Young lad come forth ; I have to say with you. Arthur. Good-morrow, Hubert. Hub. Good -morrow little prince. Arth. As little prince as may be. You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. Arth. Mercy on me 1 Methinks nobody should be sad but I. Yet I remember when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be sad as night Only for wantonness. By my Christendom, So 1 were out of prison, and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long ; And so T would be here, but that I doubt My uncle practises more harm to me. He is afraid of me, and I of him. Is it my fault that I was Jeffrey's son ? No, indeed, it's not ; and I would to heaven I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert. Hub. ( Aside. ) If 1 talk to him, with his inno- cent prate, He will awake my mercy, which lies dead ; Therefore I will be sudden and despatch. Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale to-day ; In sooth, I would you were a little sick, That I might sit all night and watch with you. I warrant I love you more than you do me. Hub. ( Aside. ) His words do take possession of my bosom. Bead here, young Arthur. How now, foolish rheum ? Turning dispiteous torture out of door! 1 must be brief, lest resolution drop 2io the Art of rendering Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears. Can you not read it ? Is it not fair writ ? Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect. Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Hub. Young boy, I must. Arth. And will you ? Hub. And I will I Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, The best I had, a princess wrought it me, And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head, And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time Saying, What lack you ? and Where lies your grief 1 Or, What good love may I perform for you ? Many a poor man's son would have lain still, And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you ; But you, at your sick service, had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, And call it cunning ; do, an' if you will, If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill Why, then, you must. Will you put out mine eyes ? These eyes that never did, nor never shall So much as frown on you ? Hub. I have sworn to do it ; And with hot irons must I burn them out. Arth. Ah, none but in this iron age would do it ! The iron of itself, tho' heat red-hot, Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears And quench his fiery indignation, Even in the matter of mine innocence ; Nay, after that, consume away in rust, SLIDES OF THE VOICE 211 But for containing fire to harm mine eyes. Are you more stubborn hard than hammer'd iron? An' if an angel should have come to me, And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes, I would not have believed no tongue but Hubert's ! Hub. Come forth ! Do as Lbid you. Arth. Oh, save me, Hubert, save me ! my eyes are out Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. Arth. Alas, why need you be so boisterous rough ? I will not struggle, I will stand stone stilL For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound. Nay hear me Hubert, drive these men away And I will sit as quiet as a lamb ; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Nor look upon the iron angerly ; Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you Whatever torment you do put me to. Hub. Go stand within ; let me alone with him. 1st. Execu. T am best pleased to be from such a deed. Arth. Alas,I then have chid away my frieDd, He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart ; Let him come back, that his compassion may give life to yours. Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself ! Arth. Is there no remedy? Hub. None, but to lose your eyes. Arth. Oh, heaven, that there were but a mote in yours ; A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair, 212 THE ART OF RENDERING Any annoyance in that precious sense ! Then, feeling what small things are boisterous there, Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. Hub. Is this your promise ? Go to, hold your tongue. Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes. Let me not hold my tongue, let me not, Hubert ; Or Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, So I may keep mine eyes. O spare mine eyes : Though to no use, but still to look on you. Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold, and would not harm me. Hub. I can heat it, boy. Arth. No, in good sooth ; the fire is dead wi ' grief, Being create for comfort, to be used In undeserved extremes ; see else yourself. There is no malice in this burning coal ; The breath of heaven hath blown bis spirit out, And strewed repentant ashes on his head. Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. Arth. An' if you do you will but make it blush And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert, All things that you should use to do me wrong, Deny their office ; only you do lack That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends. Hub Well, see to live. I will not touch thine eyes For all the treasure that thine uncle owes: Yet am I sworn, and did purpose, boy With this same very iron to bum them out. Arth. O ! now you look like Hubert ; All this while, you were disguised. Hub. Peace ! no more, adieu ! Your uncle must not know but you are dead. SLIDES OF THE VOICE 213 I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports. And, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure, That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, will not offend thee. Arth. O heaven I I thank you, Hubert ! Hub. Peace : no more : go closely in with me. Much danger do I undergo for thee. King John. " Shakespeaee. RIP VAN WINKLE IN THE MOUNTAINS. From " RIP VAN WINKLE as played by JOSEPH JEFFERSON. " Permission by DODD, MEAD & COMPANY, NEW YORK. Schneider ! Schneider ! What's the matter with Schneider? Something must have scared that dog. There he goes head over heels down the hill. Well, here I am again — another night in the mountains ! Heigho! these old trees begin to know me, I reckon. How are you, old fellows? Well, I like the trees, they keep me from the wind and the rain, and they never blow me up ; and when I lay me down on the broad of my back, they seem to bow their heads to me, an' say : Go to sleep, Rip, go to sleep. My, what a flash that was ! Old Hendrick Hudson 's lighting his pipe in the mountains to-night ; now, we '11 hear him roll the big balls along. Well, — no — Schneider! No; whatever it is it's on two legs. Why, what a funny thing is that a coming up the hill ? I thought nobody but me ever come nigh this place. f Enter dwarf. ) Sit down, and make yourself comfort- able. What? What 's the matter? Ain't ye goin' to speak to a feller ? I don't want to speak to you, then. Who you think you was, that I want to speak to you, any more 214 THE ART OF RENDERING than you want to speak to me; you hear what I say? Donner an' Blitzen ! What for a man is das? I have been walking over these mountains ever since I was a boy, an' I never saw a queer-looking codger like that before. He must be an old sea-snake, I reckon. Well, why don't you say so, den ? You mean you would like me to help you up with that keg? Well sir, I don't do it. No ; there's no good you speakiu' like that. I never seed you before, did I? I don't want to see you again, needer. What have you got in that keg, schnapps ? I don't believe you. Well, I'll help you. Go 'long pick up my gun, there and I'll follow you mit that keg on my shoulder. I'll follow you, old broadchops. I say, old gentleman, I never was so high up in the moun. tains before. Look down into the valley there ; it seems more as a mile. I — (Goblins appear one after another. ) You're another feller 1 You're that other chap's brother? You're another brother? You're his old gran 'father ? Donner and Blitzen ! here's the whole family ; I'm a dead man to a certainty. My, my, I suppose they're speakin'about me ! No good shootin' at 'em ; family's too big for one gun. My, my, I don't like that kind of people at all ! No, sir ! 1 don't like any sech kind. I like that old gran father worse than any of them. How you was, old gentleman? I didn't mean to intrude on you, did I? What? I'll tell you how it was ; I met one of your gran 'children, I don't know which is the one — SLIDES OF THE VOICE 215 They 're all so much alike. Well — That's the same kind of a one. Any way this one he axed me to help him up the mountain mit dat keg. Well, he was an old feller, an' I thought 1 would help him. Was I right to help him ? I say, was I right to help him? If he was here, he would yuat tell you the same thing — I did n't want to come here, anyhow ; no, sir, I didn't want to come to any such kind of a place You want me to drink mit you ? Well, I swore off drinkin' ; but as this is the first time I see you, I won't count this one — You drink mit me? We drink mit one another ? What's the matter mit you, old gentleman, anyhow? You go and make so mit your head every time ; was you deaf? Oh, nein. If you was deaf you wouldn't hear what I was say in'. Was you dumb? So ? You was dumb ? Has all of your family the same complaint? All the boys dumb, hey? All the boys dumb. Have you got any girls? Don't you? Such a big family, and all boys? That's a pity ; my that's a pity. Oh, my, if you had some dumb girls, what wives they would make — Well, old gentleman, here's your good health, and all your family — may they live long and prosper. What for licker is that! Give me another one ! Oh, my, my head was so light, and now, it's heavy as lead ! Are you goin' to leave me, boys ? Are you goin' to leave me all alone ? Don't leave me ; don't go away. I will drink your good health, and your family's — ( Goblins vanish, Eip falls back heavily, in his long sleep. ) Joseph Jefferson. 216 THE ART OF RENDERING TENTH STEP IN RENDERING. SLIDE IN VOLUME. Volume of Voice shows poetic fervor, the sublime, the reverential, that which the soul chooses as contrasted with that which it rejects. Slide in Volume comes from soul force that is positive and impels, rather than from that which is negative, or from a mental force that in- structs and directs, or from physical force that sustains. Beautiful expression with true musical slides is gov- erned by the amount and variety of thought and feeling living in the mind and heart at the time of utterance. The pathetic should be made so by the soul, rather than mental pathetic which is, in other words, " whine. " The pathetic requires, not a semitone, but a noble effort for control, a struggle with the breath. Slides of any kind " put on " have a false ring of insincerity which cannot be concealed. Such slides furnish another il- lustration of the principle : " weakness takes a strong attitude. " So live, that when the mighty caravan, Which halts cne night-time in the vale of death, Shall strike its white tents for the morning march ; Thou shalt mount onward to the eternal hills, Thy foot unwearied and thy strength renewed, Like the strong eagle for the upward flight. A Vision of Immortality. " Bryant, SLIDES OF THE VOICE 217 LANDING OF COLUMBUS. The sails were furl'd ; with many a melting close, Solemn and slow the evening anthem rose, — Kose to the Virgin. 'Twas the hour of day When setting suns o'er summer seas display A path of glory, opening in the west To golden climes and islands of the West ; And human voices on the silent air Went o'er the waves in songs of gladness there ! Chosen of men ! Twas thine at noon of night . First from the prow to hail the glimmering light? (Emblem of Truth divine, whose secret ray Enters the soul and makes the darkness day ! J " Fedro ! Rodrigo ! there methought it shone ! There — in the west ! and now, alas, 'tis gone ! — 'Twas all a dream ! we gaze and gaze in vain ! But mark and speak not, there it comes again 1 It moves ! — what form unseen, what being there With torch-like lustre fires the murky air ? His instincts, passions, say, how like our own ! Oh, when will day reveal a world unknown ? " Long on the deep the mists of morning lay ; Then rose, revealing as they rolled away Half -circling hills, whose everlasting woods Sweep with their sable skirts the ehadowy floods : And say, when all, to holy transport given, Embraced and wept as at the gates of heaven, — When one and all of us, repentant, ran, And, on our faces, bless'd the wondrous man, — Say, was I then deceived, or from the skies Burst on my ear seraphic harmonies? " Glory to God ! " unnumber'd voices sung, — " Glory to God ! " the vales and mountains rung, 218 THE ART OF RENDERING Voices that hail'd creation's primal morn. And to the shepherds sung a Saviour born. Slowly, bareheaded, through the surf we bore The sacred cross, and kneeling kiss'd the shore. Rogers. THE AMERICAN FLAG. When Freedom, from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there ! She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the ekies, And striped its pure celestial white With streakings of the morning light, Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle bearer down. And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land 1 Majestic monarch of the cloud ! Who realist aloft thy regal form, To hear the tempest-trumpingsloud, And see the lightning lances driven, When strive the warriors of the storm, And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven, — Child of the sun ! to thee 'tis given To guard the banner of the free, To hover in the sulphur smoke, To ward away the battle stroke, And bid its blendings shine afar, Like rainbows on the cloud of war, The harbingers of victory ! SLIDES OF THE VOICE 219 Flag of the brave ! thy folds shall fly, The sign of hope and triumph high ! When speaks the signal-trumpet tone, A nd the long line comes gleaming on, Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, Has dimmed the glistening bayonet, Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn To where thy sky-born glories burn, And as his springing steps advance, Catch war and vengeance from the glance. And when the cannon-mouthings loud Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud, And gory sabres rise and fall Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall, Then shall thy meteor glances glow, And cowering foes shall shrink beneath Each gallant arm that strikes below That lovely messenger of death. Flag of the seas ! on ocean wave Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave ; When death, careering on the gale, Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, And frighted waves rush wildly back Before the broadside's reeling rack, Each dying wanderer of the sea Shall look at once to heaven and thee, And smile to see thy splendors fly In triumph o'er his closing eye. Flag of the free heart's hope and home By angel hands to valor given, Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven I Forever float that standard sheet, 220 THE ART OF RENDERING Where breathes the foe but falls before us With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us ! Joseph Rodman Drake. BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord : He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored ; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword : His truth is marching on. I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps ; They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps ; I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps. His day is marching on. I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel : " As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal ; Let the Hero born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, Since God is marching on. " He hath sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat ; He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat : Oh I be swift, my soul, to answer him ! Be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on. SLIDES OF THE VOICE 221 In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me : As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, While God is marching on. Julia Ward Howe. ERIN'S FLAG. Unroll Erin's flag ! fling its folds to the breeze ! Let it float o'er the land, let it wave o'er the seas ; Lift it out of the dust — let it wave as of yore, When its chiefs with their clans stood around it and swore That never, no, never, while God gave them life, And they had an arm and a sword for the strife, That never, no, never, that banner would yield, As long as the heart of a Celt was its shield ; — While the hand of a Celt had a weapon to wield, And his last drop of blood was unshed on the field. Lift it up ! wave it high ! — 'tis as bright as of old ; Not a stain on its green, not a blot on its gold, Though the woes and the wrongs of three hundred years Have drenched Erin's sunburst with blood and with tears ; Though the clouds of oppression enshroud it in gloom, And around it the thunders of tyranny boom. Look aloft 1 look aloft ! lo ! the cloud's drifting by, There is a gleam through the gloom, there is a light in the sky. Tis the sunburst resplendent, far-flashing on high ; Erin's dark night is waning, her day-dawn is nigh. 222 THE ART OF RENDERING Lift it up ! lift it up ! the old banner of green ; The blood of its sons has but brightened its sheen. What though the tyrant has trampled it down, Are its folds not emblazoned with deeds of reuown ? What though for ages it droops in the dust, Shall it droop thus forever ? no I no ! God is just ! Take it up ! take it up from the tyrant's foul tread, Lest he tear the green flag, we will snatch its last shred. And beneath it we'll bleed as our forefathers bled, And we'll vow by the dust in the graves of our dead, And we'll swear by the blood that the Briton has shed, And we'll vow by the wrecks which through Erin he spread, And we'll swear by the thousands who famished, unfed Died down in the ditches — wild howling for bread ; And we'll vow by our heroes, whose spirits have fled, And we'll swear by the bones in each coffinless bed. That we'll battle the Briton through danger and dread ; That we'll cling to the cause which we glory to wed Till the gleam of our steel and the shock of our lead Shall prove to the foe that we meant what we said — That we'll lift up thegreen, and we'll tear down the red. Lift up the green flag ! oh ! it wants to go home, Full long has its lot been to wander and roam ; It has followed the fate of its sons o'er the world, But its folds, like their hopes, are not faded or furled ; Like a weary-winged bird, to the east and the west It has flitted and fled, but it never shall rest, Till pluming its pinions it sweeps o'er the main, And speeds to the shore of its old home again, Where its fetterless folds o'er each mountain and plain Shall wave with a glory that never shall wane. SLIDES OF THE VOICE 223 Take it up ! take it up I bear it back from afar ! That banner must blaze 'mid the lightnings of war ; Lay your hands on its folds, lift your eyes to the sky, And swear that you'll bear it triumphant or die ; And shout to the clans scattered far o'er the earth, To join in the march to the land of their birth ; And wherever the exiles, 'neath heaven's broad dome, Have been fated to suffer, to sorrow, and roam, They'll bound on the sea, and away o'er the foam They'll march to the music of " Home sweet home. " Father Ryan. A PROCESSIONAL HYMN. The earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof ; the world, and they that dwell therein. For he hath founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the floods. " Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place? " " He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart ; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteous- ness from the God of his salvation. " This is the generation of them that seek him, that seek thy face, O Jacob. " Lift up your heads, O ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors ; and the King of glory shall come in. " " Who is this King of glory? " " The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates : even lift them up, ye everlasting doors ; and the King of glory shall come in. " " Who is this King of glory? " " The Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory. " Psalm xxiv. 224 THE ART OF RENDERING ELEVENTH STEP IN RENDERING. PAUSE. Pause is a loophole of silence through which a whole thought may shine out. Such points are not always marked by punctuation, but are indications of thought, and are points for suggestive expression. In the silent places — the pauses— the mind gathers itself to present a new impulse of thought. In pause is shown the honest action of the mind. The most common and deplorable fault of the in- experienced who attempt to speak in public is inability to give thought with the words. As a result the hurried pauses are of a uniform length, making such tiresome monotony and unnatural flow of words as to be most embarrassing to the speaker himself, to say nothing of the discomfort of the listener. " Parroting " may be left off and the true keynote of speech found in natural pauses. The voice of the speaker as well as the ear cf the listener requires a temporary period of rest. We must have before we can give. There must also be a mind to take before we can give. It is a fine art to be able to know when the listener has received a thought and is ready for the next. This may be gained in the pauses. Pauses vary in length to suit the importance of thought, short with superficial thought; long with heavy thought. PAUSE 225 Where ideas are presented rapidly, the mind of the listener soon becomes weary and refuses to follow. It has been found by careful scientific tests that the mind is able to give attention only for a few seconds at a time. The mind attends in pulses and, as the normal wave of attention lasts only a few seconds, if the mind is compelled to attend longer at a single pulse the effort of listening is exhausting and unpleasant. Because of this, short sentences ( not so short as to be choppy ) are more satisfying. Thoughts which develop and present new aspects with interesting mental pictures, having natural pulses of rest, hold the at- tention of the listener and are an advantage to the speaker. Pause may be skillfully used before words telling what is to follow. Think of pauses as loopholes through which you may show the whole idea before the words are said. Such suggestive pauses may be made most eloquent, giving in suitable places gesture or pantomimic action to reveal, with- out words, the contents of the mind. It is gratifying to the listener to read this suggestive language. It is sometimes startling to precipitate an abrupt change or turn of the thought without a moment's warning. A suggestion of an abrupt change should be shown in the pause. Says Delsarte : — Silence is the father of speech, and must justify it. Every word which does not proceed from silence and find its vindication in silence, is a spurious word without claim or title to our regard. Origin is the stamp by which we recognize the intrinsic value of things. Let us, then, seek in silence the sufficient reason of speech, and remember that the more enlightened the mind is, the more concise is the speech that proceeds from it. Let us assume, then, that this conciseness keeps pace with the elevation of the mind, and that when the mind arrives at the perception of the true light, finding no words that can portray the glories open to its view, it keeps silent and admires. It is 226 THE ART OF RENDERING through silence that the mind rises to perfection, for silence is the speech of God. A CHILD'S DREAM OP A STAR. There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought of a number of things. He had a sis- ter who was a child too, and his constant companion. They wondered at the beauty of the flowers; they won- dered at the height and blueness of the sky ; they won- dered at the depth of the water ; they wondered at the goodness and power of God, who made the lovely world. They used to say to one another sometimes : Suppos- ing all the children on the earth were to die, would the flowers and the water and the sky be sorry? They be- lieved they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds are the children of the flowers, and the little playful streams that gambol down the hillsides are the children of the water, and the smallest bright specks playing at hide-and-seek in the sky all night must surely be the children of the stars ; and they would all be grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more. There was one clear-shining star that used to come out in the sky before the rest, near the church-spire, above the graves. It was larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and every night they watched for it, standing hand-in-hand at a window. Whoever saw it first cried out: " I see the star. *• And after that, they cried out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So they grew to be such friends with it that, before lying down in their bed, they always looked out once again to bid it good, night ; and when they were turning round, to sleep they used to say : " God bless the star ! " PAUSE 227 But while she was still very young — 0, very young ! — the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the window at night, and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient, pale face on the bed, " I see the star ! "and then a smile would come up- on the face, and a weak little voice used to say : " God bless my brother and the star ! " And so the time came, all too soon, when the child looked out all alone, and when there was no face on the bed, and when there wa3 a grave among the graves not there before, and when the star made long rays down toward him as he saw it through his tears. Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining, way from earth to heaven, that when the child went to his solitary bed he dreamed about the star ; and dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels ; and the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more such angels waited to receive them. All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star ; and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light, and were so happy in their company that, lying in his bed, he wept for joy. But there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was glorified and radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all the host. His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to the leader among those who had brought the people thither : 228 THE ART OF RENDERING " Is my brother come ? " And he said: *' No! " She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms, and cried : " O, sister, I am here ! take me I " And she turned her beaming eyes upon him — and it was night ; and the star was shining into the room, making long rays down toward him as he saw it through his tears. From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as the home he was to go to when his time should come ; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star too, because of his sister's angel gone before. There was a baby born to be a brother to the child, and while he was so little that he never yet had spoken a word, he stretched out his tiny form on his bed, and died. Again the child dreamed of the opened star, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels, with their beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces. Said his sister's angel to the leader : ■' Is my brother come ? " And he said : " Not that one, but another ! " As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried : " O, my sister, I am here ! take me ! " And she turned and smiled upon him — and the star was shining. He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books, when an old servant came to him and said : " Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son. " Again at night he saw the star, and all that former com- pany. Said his sister's angel to the leader : " Is my broth er come? " And he said: " Thy mother 1 " A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, be- PAUSE 229 cause the mother was reunited to her two children. And he stretched out his arms »nd cried : " O, mother, siBter and brother, I am here ! Take me ! " And they answered him : " Fot yet ! " — and the star was shining. He grew to be a mts, whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief and with his face bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again. Said his sister's angel to the leader : " Is my brother come? " And he said : " Nay, but his maiden daughter ! " And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said : " My daughter's head is on my .sister's bos- om, and her arm is around my mother's neck, and at her feet is the baby of old time, and I can bear the parting from her. God be praised. " And the star was shining, Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and fee- ble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing around, he cried, as he cried so long ago : " I see the star ! " They whispered one to another : " He is dying. " A nd he said : " I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I move toward the star as a child. And O, my Father, now I thank thee that it has so often opened to receive those dear ones who await me ! " And the star was shining: and it shines upon his grave. Chakles Dickens. 230 THE ART OF RENDERING ODE TO THE PASSIONS. When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung, The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Throng'd around her magic cell, — Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting, Possessed beyond the Muse's painting ; By turns, they felt the glowing mind Disturbed, delighted, raised, refined : Till once, 'tiseaid, when all were fired, Filled with fury, rapt, inspired, From the supporting myrtles round, They snatched her instruments of sound ; And, as they oft had heard apart Sweet lessons of her tuneful art, Each — for Madness ruled the hour — Would prove his own expressive power. First, Fear, his hand, its skill to try, Amid the chords bewildered laid ; And back recoiled, he knew not why, E'en at the sound himself had made. — Next Anger rushed — his eyes on fire, In lightnings owned his secret stings ; With one rude clash he struck the lyre, And swept, with hurried hand, the strings. With woeful measures, wan Despair — Low, sullen sounds his grief beguiled; A solemn, strange, and mingled air ; Twas sad by fits — by starts, 'twas wild. But thou, O Hope! with eyes so fair — What was thy delighted measure ? PAUSE 231 Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ; Still would her touch the strain prolong ; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She called on Echo still through all her song ; And where her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close ; And Hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden hair. And longer had she sung, but with a frown Revenge impatient rose. He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down, And with a withering look, The war-denouncing trumpet took, And blew a blast so loud and dread, Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe ; And ever and anon, he beat The doubling drum with furious heat, And though, sometimes, each dreary pause be- tween, Dejected Pity, at his side, Her soul-subduing voice applied ; Yet still he kept his wild, unaltered mien, While each strained ball of sight seemed burst' ing from his head. Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fixed — Sad proof of thy distressful state : Of differing themes the veering song was mixed ; And now it courted Love ; now, raving, called on Hate — With eyes upraised, as one inspired, Pale Melancholy, sat retired, < 232 THE ART OF RENDERING And, from her wild, sequestered seat, In notes by distance made more sweet, Poured through the mellow horn her pensive soul ; And dashing soft from rocka around, Bubbling runnels joined the sound ; Thro' glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, Or o'er some haunted stream with fond delay, Hound a holy calm diffusing, Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away. But Oh ! how altered was its sprightlier tone, When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemmed with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known. The oak-crowned sisters and their chaste-eyed queen Satyrs and sylvan boys were seen, Peeping from forth their alleys green ; Brown exercise rejoiced to hear, And Sport leaped up and seized his beechen spear. Last came Joy's ecstatic trial ; He, with viny crown advancing, First to the lively pipe his hand addressed ; But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol, Whose sweet entrancing voice he loved the best. They would have thought, who heard the strain, They saw in Tempo's vale her native maids, Amid the festal-sounding shades, To some unwearied minstrel dancing, While, as his flying fingers kissed the strings, Love framed with Mirth a gay fantastic round, Irfoose were her tresses seen her zone unbound ; PAUSE 233 And he amid his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odors from his dewy wings. William Collins. A DAGGER OF THE MIND. Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle Toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from a heat-oppressed brain? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going ; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest ; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before. There's no such thing : It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one half-world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep ; witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, WithTarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for f ear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout. . . . I go, and it is done ; the bell invites me. Macbeth. " Shakespeare. 234 THE ART OF RENDERING TWELFTH STEP IN RENDERING. RELATION OF VALUES. Relation of Values in speech may be likened to a pair of balances or scales. That which is being weighed receives more attention than the weights. Under Relation of Values may be included what is commcnly known as Comparisons of various kinds:— Antithesis — the placing of opposites together. Simile — declares one thing to be like another. Metaphor — an implied comparison. Ideas, Positive balanced with Negative; Heavy with Light ; Limited with Limitless : that which we Choose with what we Reject; ideas of Comparison may be expressed or implied in a word alone or told in a sentence, a paragraph, or may be a longer expression. Positive ideas should be made heavy and negative light. In debate make your own arguments weighty, your opponent's arguments light — ignored as if of little worth. It is not best to attack the opponenfs ar- guments. Treat as unworthy of attack: colorless. Giving as good as is sent " defeats its own purpose. In dealing with questions of morals, make Light weightier than darkness ; Beauty, Goodness, Truth of more weight than ugliness, deformity and error. In life as well as expression make Positives Heavy and Negatives Light. Love weighs more than hate ; Goud than evil; Light than darkness ; Life than death. RELATION OF VALUES 235 In the book of Proverbs are examples of Antithesis: — Better is a dry morsel, and quietness therewith, than an house full of sacrifices with strife. . . . Whoso mocketh the poor reproacheth his Maker : and he that is glad at calamities shall not be unpunished. '" Earth gets its price for what Earth gives us; The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in, The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us, We bargain for the graves we lie in. At the devil's booth all things are sold, Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold ; For a cap and bells our lives we pay, Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking ; Tis heaven alone that is given away, *Tis only God may be had for the asking. No price is set on the lavish summer June may be had by the poorest comer. Vision of Sir Launfal. " Lowell. Suppose that you are the best part of England ; that you who have become the slaves ought to have been the masters, and that those 'who are the masters ought to have been the slaves ! If it is a noble and whole-hearted England whose bidding you are bound to do, it is well ; but if you are your- selves the best of her heart, and the England you have left be but a half-hearted England, how say you of your obedience ? You were too proud to become shop-keepers ; are you satisfied then to become the servants of shop-keep- ers ? You were too proud to become merchants or farmers; will you have merchants or farmers for your field-marshals ? You imagine yourselves to be the army of England : how, if you should find yourselves at last only the police of her manufacturing towns, and the beadles of her little Bethels? " Address at Royal Military Academy. " Ruskin. 236 THE ART OF RENDERING In rendering the Simile, hold up the idea that is being likened to another or to several others with greater prom, inence than anything else with which it is likened or com- pared. It is a fault to reverse this order and allow the mind to be so taken with the elaborate notions used in the comparison as to lose sight of the prime idea. This chief idea, as it is put in the balances and weighed with one idea after another, should be held in the mind throughout the entire process, even if a paragraph long, as of more value than anything, or all things with which it is compared. They came, and Eudora stood robed and crowned, The bride of the morn, with her train around. Jewels flashed out from her braided hair, Like starry dews midst the roses there ; Pearls on her bosom quivering shone, Heaved by her heart through its golden zone ; But a brow, as those gems of the ocean pale, Gleamed from beneath her transparent veil ; Changeful and faint was her fair cheek's hue, Tho' clear as a flower which the light looks through. " Bride of the Greek Isle. " Mrs. Hemans. The tent was unlooped; I pulled up the spear that ob- structed, and under 1 stooped. . . I groped my way on. " Here is David, thy servant ! " And no voice replied. At the first I saw naught but the blackness ; but soon I de- scried a something more black than the blackness — the vast, the upright main prop which sustains the pavilion: and slow into sight grew a figure against it, gigantic and blackest of all. Then a sunbeam, that burst through the tent-roof, showed Slant/. He stood as erect as that tent-prop, both arms stretched out wide on the great cross-support in the centre, that goes to each side ; he relaxed not a muscle but hung there Q s, caught in his pangs and waiting his RELATION OF VALUES 237 change, the king serpent all heavily hangs, far away from his kind, in the pine, till deliverance come with the spring- time, — so agonized Saul, drear and stark, blind and dumb. Saul. " Robert Browning. There is sweet imrnn here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass ; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir"d eyelids upon tir'd eyes. " The Lotos-Eaters." Tennyson. In metaphor hold the thought all through the compar ison on the real idea thus contrasted: — The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures : he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul : he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies : thou anointest my head with oil ; my cup runneth over. Surely Goodness and Mercy shall follow me all the days of my life : and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. — " A Song of Trust. " Twenty-third Psalm. I, writing thus, am still what men call young; I have not so far left the coasts of life To travel inland, that I cannot hear That murmur of the water infinite Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep, When wondered at for smiling. — Mrs. Browning. 238 THE ART OF RENDERING All that I know Of a certain star Is, it can throw ( Like the angled spar ) Now a dart of red, Now a dart of blue ; Till my friends have said They would fain see, too, My star that dartles the red and the blue ! Then it stops like a bird ; like a flower, hangs furled : They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it. What matter to me if their star is a world? Mine has opened its soul to me ; therefore I love it. " My Star. " Robert Browning. Make positive ideas heavier than negative ideas. — " Your words have been stout against me, " saith the Lord. " Yet ye say, ' What have we spoken so much against thee? ' Ye have said, ' It is vain to serve God : and what profit is it that we have kept his ordinance, and that we have walked mournfully before the Lord of hosts? And now we call the proud happy ; yea, they that work wickedness are set up ; yea, they that tempt God are even delivered. ' " Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another : and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name- " And they shall be mine, " saith the Lord of hosts, " in that day when I make up my jewels ; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him. Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous RELATION OF VALUES 239 and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not " Malachi. Reflected in the lake, I love To see the stars of evening glow, So tranquil in the heavens above, So restless in the wave below. Thus heavenly hope is all serene, But earthly hope, how bright soe'er, Still fluctuates o'er this changing scene, As false and fleeting as 'tis fair. Heber. In the tempest of life, when the wave and the gale Are around and above, if thy footing should fail— If thine eyes should grow dim, and thy caution depart — Look aloft, and be firm, and be fearless of heart. If the friend who embraced in prosperity's glow, With a smile for each joy and a tear for each woe, Should betray thee when sorrows, like clouds, are arrayed, Look aloft to the friendship which never shall fade. Should the visions which hope spreads in light to thine eye, Like the tints of the rainbow, but brighten to fly, Then turn, and, through tears of repentant regret, Look aloft to the sun that is never to set. Should they who are nearest and dearest thy heart — Thy friends and companions — in sorrow depart. Look aloft from the darkness and dust of the tomb, To that soil where " affection is ever in bloom. " And oh, when Death comes in his terrors, to cast His fears on the future, his pall on the past, In that moment of darkness, with hope in thy heart, And a smile in thine eye, Look aloft, and depart. " Look Aloft. " /• Latvrence. 240 THE ART OF RENDERING SELF-DEPENDENCE. Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me Forward, forward, o'er the starlit sea. And a look of passionate desire O'er the sea and to the stars I send ; " Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me, Calm me, ah, compose me to the end ! Ah, once more, " I cried " ye stars, ye waters, On my heart your mighty charm renew ; Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, Feel my soul becoming vast like you ! " From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, Over the lit sea's unquiet way, In the rustling night air came the answer, — " Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they. Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undistracted by the sights they see, These demand not that the things without them Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. And with joy the stars perform their shining, And the sea its long moon-silver'd roll ; For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting All the fever of some differing soul. Bounded by themselves, and unregardful In what state God's other works may be, In their own tasks all their powers pouring, These attain the mighty life you see. " RELATION OF VALUES 241 O air-bora voice ! long since, severely clear, A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear ; " Resolve to be thyself ; and know that he Who finds himself loses his misery ! " Matthew Aenold. PURE, COLD WATER. There, there is the liquor which God, the Eternal, brews for all his children . Not in the simmering still, over smoky fires, choked with poisonous gases, surrounded with the stench of sickening odors and corruptions, doth your Fa- ther in heaven prepare the precious essence of life — pure, cold water ; but in the green glade and grassy dell, where the red deer wanders, and the child loves to play, there God brews it : and down, low down iu the deepest valleys, where the fountain murmurs and the rills sing ; and high upon the mountain tops, where the naked granite glitters like gold in the sun, where the storm-cloud broods and the thunder, storms crash ; and far out on the wide, wild sea, where the hurricane howls music, and the big waves roll the chorus, sweeping the march of God — there He brews it, that bev- erage of life — health-giving water. And everywhere it is a thing of life and beauty — gleam- ing in the dew-drop ; singing in the summer rain ; shining in the ice-gem,till the trees all seem turned to living jewels ; spreading a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white gauze around the midnight moon ; sporting in the cataract ; folding its bright snow-curtains softly about the wintery world ; and weaving the many-colored bow, that seraph's zone of the sky — whose warp is the raindrop of the earth, whose woof is the sunbeam of heaven, all checked over with the celestial flowers, by the mystic hand of refraction. 242 THE ART OF RENDERING Still always it is beautiful, that blessed life-water! No poison bubbles on its brink ; its foam brings not madness and murder ; no blood stains its limpid glass ; pale widows and starving orphans weep not burning tears in its depths ; no drunkard's shrieking ghost, from the grave, curses it in the words of eternal despair! Speak out, my friends: would you exchange it for the demon's drink, alcohol ? A shout like the roar of the tempest, answered, " No I " John B. Gouqh. CIVIC EIGHTS FOR THE JEWS. My honorable friend has appealed to us as Christians. Let me, then, ask him how he understands that great com- mandment which comprises the law and the prophets. Can we be said to do unto others as we would that they should do unto us, if we inflict on them even the smallest pain ? As Christians, surely we are bound to consider, first, whether, by excluding the JewB from all public trust we give them pain ; and, secondly, whether it be necessary to give them that pain in order to avert some greater evil. That by ex- cluding them from public trus^ we inflict pain on them, my honorable friend will not dispute. As a Christian, therefore, he is bound to relieve them from pain, unless he can show, what I am sure he has not yet shown, that it is necessary to the general good that they should continue 1 to suffer. " But where, " he says, " are you to stop, if once you ad- mit into the House of Commons people who deny the au- thority of the Gospels ? Will you let in a Mussulman ? Will you let in a Parsee? Will you let in a Hindoo, who worships a lump of stone with seven heads? " I will an- swer my honorable friend's question by another. Where does he mean to stop. Is he ready to roast unbelievers et slow fires? If not let him tell us why ; and I will engage RELATION OF VALUES 243 to prove that his reason is just as decisive against the intol- erance which he thinks a duty as against the intolerance which he thinks a crime. Once admit that we are bound to inflict pain on a man because he is not of our religion, and where are you to stop ? Why stop at the point fixed by my honorable friend rather than at the point fixed by the honorable member for Oldham (Cobbett,) who would make the Jews incapable of holding land ? And why stop at the point fixed by the honorable member for Oldham rather than at the point which would have been fixed by a Spanish inquisitor of the sixteenth century? When once you enter on a course of persecution, I defy you to find any reason for making a halt till you have reached the extreme point. When my honorable friend tells us that he will allow the Jews to possess property to any a- mount, but that he will not allow them to possess the small, est political power, he holds contradictory language. Property is power " But, " says my honorable friend, " it has been proph- esied that the Jews are to be wanderers on the face of the earth, and that they are not to mix on terms of equality with the people of the countries in which they sojourn. " Now, sir, I am confident that I can demonstrate that this is not the sense of any prophecy which is part of Holy Writ. For it is an undoubted fact, that in the United States of America Jewish citizens do possess all the privileges pos- sessed by Christian citizens. Therefore, if the prophecies mean that the Jews never shall, during their wanderings, be admitted by other nations to equal participation of political rights, the prophecies are false. But the proph- ecies are certainly not false. Therefore their meaning cannot be that which is attributed to them by my honorable friend Nobody knows better than my honorable friend, the mem- 244 THE ART OF RENDERING ber for the University of Oxf ord, that there is nothing in their national character which unfits them for the high- est duties of citizens. He knows, that in the infancy of civilization, when our island was as savage as New Guinea, when letters and arts were still unknown to Athens, when scarcely a thatched hut stood on what was after the site of Borne, this contemned people had their fenced cities and cedar palaces, their splendid temple, their fleets of merchant ships, their schools of sacred learning, their great statesmen and soldiers, their natural philosophers, their historians, and their poets. What nation ever contended more manfully against overwhelming odds for its independence and religion ? What nation ever, in its last agonies, gave such signal proofs of what maybe accomplished by a brave despair? And if, in the course of many centuries, the oppressed descendants of warriors and sages have degenerated from the qualities of their fathers, if, while excluded from the blessings of law, and bowed down under the yoke of slavery, they have contracted some of the vices of outlaws and of slaves, shall we consider this as matter of reproach to them ? Shall we not rather consider it as matter of shame and remorse to ourselves? Let us do justice to them. Let us open to them the door of the House of Commons. Let us open to them every career in which ability and energy can be dis- played. Till we have done this, let us not presume to say that there is no genius among the countrymen of Isaiah, no heroism among the descendants of the Maccabees. Loed Macaulay. There is a decisive instant in all matters ; and if you look languidly, you are sure to miss it. Nature seems always, somehow, trying to make you miss it. " I will see that through, " you must say, " without turning my head ; " or you won't see the trick of it at all. — RusMn. VOLUME OF VOICE 245 THIRTEENTH STEP IN RENDERING. VOLUME OF VOICE. Volume of Voice comes from volume of thought and feeling. It has to do with noble emotions : sublimity, reverence, adoration, grandeur, poetic fervor, patriotic sentiment, when uttered with a deep under-current of feeling. Unlike the Conversational and the Dramatic Styles which deal with the commonplace, Volume of Voice is used in exalted, dignified expressions, therefore is used in the Oratorical Style. Oratory comes from "orare," ( to speak in a pleading manner. ) The emotional element makes it truly elo- quent. " Oratory is the flowering, the culminating of all the graces of expression, the flowering of the virtues. Oratory may be compared to the discoursing of grand music, to an organ with a thousand stops, moving the profoundest of human emotions. " Oratory requires a knowledge of expression of body and the arts of voice, gesture, and mastery of the same, beside, a soul well stored with burning thoughts and feelings. The expression must be simplicity itself, suggesting and awakening thought and feeling in the subtlest, simplest manner, concealing all effort. Oratory requires concentrated energy and skill such as is used by the singer who renders grand and noble music with few but dignified outward movements. " The highest art is to conceal art. " 246 THE ART OF RENDERING It has been said of Orators : — Cicero, — a conflagration. Demosthenes, — a hurricane. Saint Paul, — a god of eloquence. Clay, — fiery, magnetic. Spurgeon, — voice fine, magnetic. Webster,— while perspiration ran down his face; his body was in comparative quietude — his eyes burned, yet repose seemed the normal condition. Lacardaire, — voice at first feeble — clear, massive, sus- ceptible of force and passion, grew more fervent, deepened and strengthened to a wonderful degree. He began simply, suddenly took a turn like lightning; he was seized and the listener carried with him. Not learning by heart, it was a soul that broke forth like a tide through the walls of flesh, and cast itself reckless and desperate into the soul of an- other ; this is greater than speech. Eloquence is the soul which takes the place of our own. Extemporaneous speech takes the head from the shoulders. STUDY FOR VOLUME OF VOICE. We may have wondered why the charming gift, as it is called, of Oratory is so rare that only two or three real and truly great Orators appear in a generation. Something may be wrong. The seed-f or producing this choice species may be planted wrong-side-out. We do know that when the average student — they with graduating orations not excepted — attempts to render the Oratorical style, he stiffens his muscles and assumes a swollen appearance which can be compared to nothing in all the field of nature and art but a turkey gobbler on parade. He declaims in a loud, strained voice, destitute of that which charms. Nor is the student alone deluded into the " wrong-side-out" style. It is much to be regretted that finished scholarstbus abuse their mother tongue. The man of holy orders too often voices the sacred message in a most unholy way. We VOLUME OF VOICE 247 are all familiar with what is known as the " ministerial tone. " (They who employ such tones, as a natural result are often afflicted with "clergyman's sore throat. " ) It so happens our best examples are poor guides to imitate. The best guide must come from within yourself. In the practical drill for Volume of Voice, much depends on getting the right start. The point of difference between the right way and the wrong way is apparently so small at the start, one may easily miss the right way. Here, as in the other studies, let the mind not only lead but let it com- pel the voice. Make no effort to use a large voice. Only as the sublime ideas possess the soul causing it to respond, will the voice respond and expand naturally. Volume can not be " put on " without positive injury. Let us illustrate somewhat the mental side of our work for volume, using for our study " The Ocean, " by Byron, which follows. First go through it contrasting the ordinary, commonplace ideas with the grand, sublime ideas ; the lim- ited with the limitless. The " drop of rain, " " snowy flake, " etc. limited. Send the mind out in an effort to take in the " glorious mirror where the Almighty's form glasses ( reflects ) itself. " Try to see the limitless ideas reflected in this boundless mirror. Then the mind must reach out still beyond the vast deep to the unknowable, " the image of eternity, " " the throne of the Invisible. " Make vast and limitless all that refers in any way to the Ocean, — the pronouns and all. Concentrate the mind many times on the pictures before attempting to read it aloud, then read ideas instead of words, letting the voice respond naturally. As the mental grows inability to expand and respond will the voice expand and grow in volume. Do not force the voice ; let the mind lead ; be content to take time to grow; repeat, repeat, repeat the concentration of the mind on the sublime pictures then respond honestly as you are impressed. 248 THE ART OF RENDERING Volume of Voice may be cultivated in another way in connection with the foregoing study. Impersonate, in the private study, some great, dignified character, orator or states- man with some grave or noble feeling dominant. For ex- ample : with costume, manner and voice play Brutus in the orchard scene in " Julius Caesar. " Try to comprehend the dignity and majesty of his noble character and the deep emotions ruling him as he contemplates, for the good of Home, the assassination of Csesar. Let the mental concep- tion of the character dominate the voice. The student may gain a point of advantage in practice for Volume of Voice by getting first the pitch, as in singing. For low pitch say — " awe, awe, awe, " prolong, feel the vibration in the chest by placing the hand there. Get the pitch very gently. Do not force the voice. By making use of only the two studies named — " The Ocean " and " Brutus in the Orchard " — as a drill exercise, voices have been wonderfully improved. This drill must always be more of a mental than a vocal gymnastic. Ever aim for intensity kathee than loudness for herein lies the secret of success. This order reversed defeats either the novice or the sage. After the student is once sure that he has made the right start training the voice for volume, while he should contin- ue the drill on the first studies, he may take up new studies. Look for the sublime in nature, ideas of the Deity, abstract, limitless ideas of Patriotism, Love, as in I Corinthians XIII, Judgment, Conviction of Sin, Sense of Duty, etc. Expres- sions of ignoble passion is never allowed in Oratory. As Oratory is the highest form of human expression, the student can well afford to pay the price of earnest effort. Grand, sublime thought and feeling given out with a deep mellow voice and with intensity behind it has power to ennoble. Deep voice moves like the deep toned organ. VOLUME OF VOICE 249 THE OCEAN. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin— his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain , He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknelled, uncoflined, and unknown. The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals ; The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war : These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee — Assyria, Greece, Eome, Carthage, — what are they ? Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts : not so thou ; Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play — Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm, 250 THE ART OF RENDERING Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving ; — boundless, endless and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee : thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sport was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight ; and if thy freshening sea Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear ; For I was, as it were, a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here. Lord Bybon. BRUTUS IN THE ORCHARD. It must be by his death : and, for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him, But for the general. He would be crowned: — How that might change his nature, there's the question : It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, An d that craves wary walking. Crown him ? — that ; And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, That at his will he may do danger with. The abuse of greatness i too, it was " the Lord's Day. " The quiet of a Sabbath hush VOLUME OF VOICE 259 rested on the company of voyagers who had just bidden farewell to the sacred scenes of the Holy Land. It was a perfect day. Not a cloud rested on the peaceful sky that brooded over us, nor was there the ripple of a wave on the indescribable blue of that wondrous sea. Were it not for the throb and jar of the machinery, we might almost have supposed that the ship was at a standstill. Seated under the awning, with our Bibles open, the book of Eevelation was read while the eye passed constantly from the printed page westward to the rocky shore where the things " which are written in this book " had taken place. It was an experience never to be forgotten. Immediately we had passed the island, the sun, like a great ball of fire, gradually approached its setting. A sunset at sea is always impressive, and that evening we observed it with peculiar interest, scarcely daring to breathe. At last the rim touched the waters, and instantly the whole Aegean blazed forth in- to shimmering pathways of golden splendor extending from our ship outward to the furthest edge of the distant hori- zon. Yes, we saw it ! " the sea of glass mingled with fire. " Patmos is not a large island ? It extends only some ten miles from north to south, but so deeply indented are its shores that the coast-line is thirty-seven miles in length. Its shape has been curiously compared to " a horse's head and neck, the nose pointing eastward. " It is of volcanic origin. The island gathers into three main mountain masses of brown rock, bare, jagged, desolate, its highest summit at- taining a height of about 950 feet. Its pagan insign ificance is indicated by the fact that it is referred to only thrice in classical literature, and then receives but the barest mention. As if unknown to the world even at the time of the Apoca- lypse, John speaks of it as " the isle called Patmos. " But greatness does not depend upon the bulk. Once in our world's history the curtains parted from before that 260 THE ART OF RENDERING " lone rocky isle of the sea, " and disclosed the last white- haired survivor of the Apostolic band walking along its heights with his glorified Lord, and then slowly the cur- tains closed again. It was enough. We would not part with this one vision for half the history of the world. No island on our planet after this can ever begin to compare with it for interest. Down to the end of time it will occupy a leading place in immortal story, and the heart of the world will ever beat faster because of the unveiling of the unseen that was there revealed. " Patmos Letters. " Dr. John L, Campbell. PEACE ON EARTH. The Christian Church has no greater message to utter in the councils of nations, with all the emphasis and moral authority within her power, than the words of Jesus to Peter " Put up again thy Bword into its place, " and making her way through forts and fortifications, over ramparts and battlements, brushing aside guns and bayonets, reach the people of these Christian lands, and stir them in the name of the Lord with the challenge " Let us have peace. " Just think of some of the evils and horrors of war, evils and horrors that the civilized world ought to re- member, instead of being absorbed with the glittering glories of war. Think of the desolation of the ravaged battle-zones, the paralysis of industry and commerce, and the reckless destruction of property that travel with contending armies. Think of the suffering and sacrifice, not only of those fight- ing at the front, but of those martyrs of the home left be- hind. Think of the savage passions aroused in the hearts of the victors, and the hatred and vindictiveness born and nursed in the hearts of the vanquished. Think of the cost VOLUME OF VOICE 261 in men and money, in what President David Starr Jordan affirms is the hest and hravest of a country's manhood, and in the millions of money the rest of the nation must toil and slave to provide, taking the bread from the mouth of the children to satisfy the ferocity of the dogs of war ; and think, consider, realize that all this and much, Oh! much more, is the tribute paid by Christian nations to bar- barism, paid for the most part to avoidable, unnecessary, un- justifiable, intolerable barbarism. Think, I say, and induce others to think of the cruel cost of war, war that after all cannot settle moral issues, for arbitrament of war only de- cides who is strong, not who is wrong, war only establishes the dominance of might, not of right. Without going into the harrowing recital of the awful cost in shattered bodies, and broken hearts, and shadowed homes, and weakened and burdened states, think of the crushing cost in money, think of the wealth of the rich and the blood of the poor, yea, the very blood of the multitudes that must needs be poured out to sustain, but never to satisfy, the barbarism of militarism. Think what it means to the social and eco- nomic life of the people that seventy-two ( 72 ) per cent, of our governmental expenditures is for war, war in its prepa- rations and war in its results. And what for ? We don't want to fight anybody, and nobody wants to fight us. We were never invaded in the time of our weakness, and we are Surely not likely to be in these times of our might, and as for our Island Possessions, there is very little danger of anybody stealing them over- night. Do you realize that every one of our foreign wars was fought on our initiative, and that not one would be able to justify itself to-day before a court of moral conscience, not one? The war of 1812 with England was unnecessary and fruitless; that of 1846 with Mexico was fruitful, but un- 262 THE ART OF RENDERING just and unjustifiable, and that of 1898 with Spain was al- truistic, but jingoish, unnecessary, and never would have broken out but that the explosion of the ill-fated " Maine " let loose the passions of our people, and tore the reins out of the hands of reason and justice. War beloDgs to animalism, not to humanism ; to barbar- ism, not to civilization, most positively not to Christian civilization ; to the brutal reign of might, not to the gracious reign of right ; to the night of the past, not to the day of the coming age. Washington said " My first wish is to see this plague of mankind banished from the earth. " Jefferson declared " I abhor war, and view it as the great- est scourge of mankind. " Grim old Sherman, who ought to know, said " The glory of war is all moonshine, war is hell, " and General Grant, our conquering glory-crowned soldier, uttered this conviction, " There never was a time when, in my opinion, some way could not have been found of preventing the drawing of the sword. " Surely, surely, surely, disciples of Jesus Christ, followers of the Prince of Peace should show the world a more ex- cellent way, and teach the nations to lay aside the crimes of war, and learn together the graces of brotherhood. *' In time of peace prepare for war " is a relic of pagan- ism, and belongs to by-gone ages when every foreigner was an enemy and every stranger a foe. Wisdom and common sense should laugh such an adage to scorn in these enlight- ened days. In the time of peace prepare to perpetuate peace. But to be forever thinking of war and talking of war and writing of war and planning for war and preparing for war is a preposterous way of insuring peace. Nay, let us think of peace and talk of peace and write of peace and plan foi peace and prepare for peace, then we shall have peace. A hundred years ago we entered into agreement with one of the mightiest nations of earth, with a border line extend VOLUME OF VOICE 263 ing four thousand miles along the entire length of our north- ern frontier, not to build a single fort on either side, nor float a single warship on the great lakes, and for a century these two countries, the United States of America and the Dominion of Canada, with the whole of the British Empire behind her, have lived in undisturbed peace, with an un- protected frontier reaching clear across the widest stretch of the continent. Do you think that this story of a cen- tury of bloodless and peaceful history could have been written, if in times of peace the great Republic and the mighty Empire had been preparing for war, if each had been vying with the other to see who could raise the most formi- dable fortifications, and build the most destructive floating fortresses, and had looked at each other through the glis- tening bore of frowning guns threateningly pointed at each other ? No, not without a miracle that no one has a right to expect from God, and any ground at all to hope for from men. Here is a concrete example of complete disarm- ament tested by the experience of a hundred years, and what we have done with England in Canada, why may we not do, in large measure, with England elsewhere, and with other nations everywhere. The Church of the Prince of Peace, speaking the language of love and justice, stands forth in the Parliament of the Nations, and declares that there is a better way to establish honorable and prosperous peace than by killing and slaughtering our fellowmen, and that there are better defences than armies and navies, battle- ments and battleships, for " Unto us a child is born . . the government shall be upon his shoulder : and his name shall be called . . . Prince of Peace. " " He shall judge between nations, and they shall beat their swords in- to plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks ; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. " Rev. Samuel J. Skevington. 264 THE ART OF RENDERING FOURTEENTH STEP IN RENDERING. LYRIC. Lyric Poetry is the poetry of self-expression : love, hatred, anger, grief, and other emotions are its distinc- tive subjects. Lyrics are both sacred and secular: Psalms and Hymns are sacred lyrics. Unity of this style requires that the poem be limited to the expression of a single emotion coloring the whole poem. The metet should be suggested by the subject. An Ode is a lyric where exalted feeling is expressed. It is the " voice of poetry in frenzy. " Odes may also be either sacred or secular. One of the finest Odes is Wordsworth's " Imitations of Immortality. " An Eleeyis a lyric with melancholy feeling. Gray's Elegy; " In Memotiam," Tennyson; " Thyrsis, " Matthew Arnold. A Sonnet is a little song, ( poeis ecstasy ) is a lyric of fourteen lines. The Sonnet expresses a single sentiment. All forms of Lyric Poetry are subjective, dealing with feelings rather than that which is objective or what appeals to the outer senses. As this style is subjective, the action of the whole being is concentric. In medi tative selections the body folds up as to arms and limbs, the eye looks into the heights or the depths, in a " brown study. " An attitude of the body in harmony with the feeling intensifies and helps true expression. LYRIC 265 In this step, even as in Forming Pictures, find the unity which will be one central feeling, often intense : aim to bring out this one feeling running throughout. For example : the twenty-third Psalm is a song of trust ; the eighth Psalm is a profound study and contemplation of nature compared with man, adoring wonder; " Night- fall " has for its center the " memory of other days. " Ones personality and the fervor of feeling manifested in rendering the Lyric Style is of far greater impor- tance than the incidents mentioned in the poems. Sonnets are also personal and are rendered as directed for Lyrics. Many of our Hymns and Sacred Songs are Lyrics and should be so rendered as to bring out the feeling under the lines. As a rule hymns are rendered thoughtlessly, in a monotonous " ministerial tone, " thus marring and ruining the beauty of the sweetest and most personal of all the songs of our language. In rendering the following subjective studies, while the action is concentric and somewhat stilled, aim not to have it the stillness of death but the stillness of life, intensity. This stillness of life may be likened to a buzz saw in such rapid motion that it seems positive repose ; or to a spirited horse held in check ; or to a deep stream flowing silently. The shallow stream broken up into ripples makes noise. To render the profound, sacred, personal feelings of the Lyric in a noisy declamatory style is closely akin to pro- fanity. Here, as in no other style, there should be appreci- ation and intensity for it is " from an abundance of life comes sweetness. " 266 THE ART OF RENDERING NIGHTFALL. Alone I stand, On either hand In gathering gloom stretch sea and land ; Beneath my feet, With ceaseless beat, The waters murmur low and sweet. Slow falls the night : The tender light Of stars grows brighter and more bright, The lingering ray Of dying day Sinks deeper down and fades away. Now fast, now slow, The south winds blow, And softly whisper, breathing low ; With gentle grace They kiss my face, Or fold me in their cool embrace. Where one pale stai. O'er waters far, Droops down to touch the harbor bar, A faint light gleams, A light that seems To grow and grow till nature teems With mellow haze ; And to my gaze Comes proudly rising, with its rays No longer dim, The moon ; its rim In splendor gilds the billowy brim. LYRIC 267 I watch it gain The heavenly plain ; Behind it trails a starry train — While low and sweet The wavelets beat Their murmuring music at my feet. Fair night of June ! Yon silver moon Gleams pale and still. The tender tune, Faint-floating, plays, In moonlit lays, •A melody of other days. 'Tis sacred ground ; A peace profound Comes o'er my soul. I hear no sound, Save at my feet The ceaseless beat Of waters murmuring low and sweet. W. W. Ellsworth. LONGING FOR HOME. A song of a boat : — There was once a boat on a billow : Lightly she rocked to her port remote, And the foam was white in her wake like snow, And her frail mast bowed when the breeze would blow, And bent like a wand of willow. I shaded my eyes one day when a boat Went curtseying over the billow, I marked her course till a dancing mote 268 THE ART OF RENDERING She faded out on the moonlit foam, And I stayed behind in the dear loved home ; And my thoughts all day were about the boat And my dreams upon the pillow. I pray you hear my song of a boat, For it is but short : — My boat, you shall find none fairer afloat, In river or port. Long I looked out for the lad she bore, On the open desolate sea, And I think he sailed to the heavenly shore, For he came not back to me — Ah me ! A song of a nest : — There was once a nest in a hollow : Down in the mosses and knot-grass pressed, Soft and warm, and full to the brim — Vetches leaned over it purple and dim ; With buttercup buds to follow. I pray you hear my song of a nest, For it ia not long :— You shall never light, in a summer quest The bushes among — Shall never light on a prouder sitter, A fairer nestful, nor ever know A softer sound than their tender twitter, That wind-like did come and go. I had a nestful once of my own, Ah happy, happy 1 ! Eight dearly I loved them : but when they were grown They spread out their wings to fly — LYRIC 269 O, one after one they flew away Far up to the heavenly blue, To the better country, the upper day, And — I wish I was going too. I pray you, what is the nest to me, My empty nest? And what is the shore where I stood to see My boat sail down to the west? Can I call that home where I anchor yet, Though my good man has sailed ? Can I call that home where my nest was set, Now all its hope hath failed ? Nay, but the port where my sailor went, And the land where my nestlings he : There is the home where my thoughts are sent, The only home for me — Ah me! " Songs of Seven. " Jean Ingelow. SONG OF THE MYSTIC. I walk down the Valley of Silence — Down the dim, voiceless valley — alone ! And I hear not the fall of a footstep Around me, save God's and my own ; And the hush of my heart is as holy As hovers where angels have flown ! Long ago was I weary of voices Whose music my heart could not win ; Long ago was I weary of noises That fretted my soul with their din ; 270 THE ART OF RENDERING Long ago was I weary of places Where I met but the human — and sin. I walked in the world with the worldly ; I craved what the world never gave ; And I said : " In the world each Ideal, That shines like a star on life's wave, Is wrecked on the shores of the Real, And sleeps like a dream in a grave. " And still did I pine for the Perfect, And still found the False with the True ; I sought 'mid the Human for Heaven, But caught a mere glimpse of its Blue ; And I wept when the clouds of the Mortal Veiled even that glimpse from my view. And I toiled on, heart-tired of the Human ; And I moaned 'mid the mazes of men ; Till 1 knelt, long ago, at an altar And I heard a voice call me — since then I walk down the Valley of Silence « That lies far beyond mortal ken. Do you ask what T found in the Valley ? Tis my Trysting Place with the Divine And Lfell at the feet of the Holy, And above me a voice said : " Be mine. " And there arose from the depths of my spirit An echo — " My heart shall be thine. " Do you ask how I live in the Valley? I weep — and I dream — and I pray. But my tears are as sweet as the dewdrops That fall on the roses in May ; And my prayer like a perfume from Censers, Ascendeth to God night and day. LYRIC 271 In the hush of the Valley of Silence I dream all the songs that I sing ; And the music floats down the dim Valley, Till each finds a word for a wing, That to hearts, like the Dove of the Deluge, A message of Peace they may bring. But far on the deep there are billows That never shall break on the beach ; And I have heard songs in the Silence, That never shall float iDto speech ; And I have had dreams in the Valley, Too lofty for language to reach. And I have seen thoughts in the Valley — Ah ! me, how my spirit was stirred I And they wear holy veils on their faces, Their footsteps can scarcely be heard , They pass through the Valley like Virgins, Too pure for the touch of a word ! Do you ask me the place of the Valley, Ye hearts that are harrowed by Care ? It lieth afar between mountains, And God and His angels are there ; And one is the dark mount of Sorrow, And one the bright mountain of Prayer! Father Ryan. O may I join the Choir Invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence. . . . Feed pure love, beget the smiles that have no cruelty, Be the sweet presence of a good diffused. . . . So shall I join the Choir Invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world. — Eliot. 272 THE ART OF RENDERING THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS. This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair. Tts web of living gauze no more unfurl : Wrecked is the ship of pearl ! And every chambered cell, Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell. As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, Before thee lies revealed — Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed ! Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil ; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn ! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn ! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep cayes of thought I hear a voice that sings : LYRIC 273 Build thee more stately mansions, my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low-vaulted past ! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven, with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea! " O. W. Holmes. A CRY FROM THE WILDERNESS. O God, thou art my God ; early will I seek thee : my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is; to see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary. Because thy lovingkindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee. Thus will I bless thee while I live : 1 will lift up my hands in thy name. My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness ; and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips : when I remember thee upon my bed, and med- itate 6ii thee in the night watches. Because thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice. My soul followeth hard after thee: thy right hand upholdeJi me. But those that seek my soul, to de- stroy it, shall go into the lower parts of the earth. They shall fall by the sword : they shall be a portion for foxes. But the king shall rejoice in God ; every one that sweareth by him shal\ giory : but the mouth of them that speak lies shall be stopped. Psalms lxiii. 274 THE ART OE RENDERING THE LOST CHORD. Seated one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease, And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys. I know not what I was playing. Or what I was dreaming then ; But, I struck one chord of music, Like the sound of a great Amen. It flooded the crimson twilight, Like the close of an Angel's Psalm, And it lay on my fevered spirit With a touch of infinite calm. It quieted pain and sorrow, Like love overcoming strife ; It seemed the harmonious echo From our discordant life. It linked all perplexed meanings Into one of perfect peace, And trembled away into silence As though it were loath to cease. I have sought, but I seek it vainly That one lost chord divine That came from the soul of the organ And entered into mine. It may be that Death's bright angel Will speak in that chord again : It maybe that only in Heaven I shall hear that grand Amen. Adelaide A. Procter. LYRIC 275 And slowly answered Arthur fro m the barge: " The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself : what comfort is in me ? 1 have lived my life, and that which I have done May He within himself make pure ! but thou, If thou shouldst never see my face again, Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend ? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou seest — if indeed I go — ( For all my mind is clouded with a doubt ) To the island-valley of Avilion ; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard-lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound. " So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull ' Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. " Morte D'Aethuk. " Tennyson. 276 THE ART OF RENDERING THE DAY IS DONE. The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor ; And to-night I long for rest. Bead from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start ; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, LYRIC 277 Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies: Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. Longfellow. ALLAH. Allah gives light in darkness, Allah gives rest in pain, Cheeks that are white with weeping Allah paints red again. The flowers and the blossoms wither, Years vanish with flying fleet ; But my heart will live on forever, That here in sadness beat. Gladly to Allah's dwelling Yonder would I take flight ; There will the darkness vanish. There will my eyes have sight. LoNGFELLOYP. 278 THE ART OF RENDERING SONG OP LOVE AND DEATH. Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain ; And sweet is death who puts an end to pain : I know not which is sweeter, no, not I. Love, art thou sweet ? then bitter death must be : Love, thou art bitter ; sweet is death to me. Love, if death be sweeter, let me die. Sweet love, that seems not made to fade away, Sweet death, that seems to make us loveless clay, 1 know not which is sweeter, no, not I. I fain would follow love, if that could be ; I needs must follow death, who calls for me ; Call and I follow, I follow I let me die. " Elaine. " Tennyson. CROSSING THE BAR. Sunset and evening star And one clear call for me ! And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea. But such a tide as moving seems asleep. Too full for sound and foam When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell And after that the dark ; And may there be no sadness of farewell When 1 embark ; For though from out our bourne of time and place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar. Tennyson. LYRIC 279 ABIDE WITH ME. Abide with me ! Fast falls the eventide, The darkness deepens — Lord, with me abide ! When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me ! Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away ; Change and decay in all around I see; Thou, who changest not, abide with me ! 1 need Thy presence every passing hour, What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with me ! Not a brief glance I long, a passing word ; But as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord, Familiar, condescending, patient, free, Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me ! Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes ; Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ; Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee! In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me ! Lyte. LEAD KINDLY LIGHT. Lead, kindly light 1 amid th' encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on ; The night is dark, and 1 am far from home, Lead Thou me on ; Keep Thou my feet ; I do not ask to see The distant scene ; one step enough for me. 280 THE ART OF RENDERING I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou Shouldst lead me on ; I loved to choose and see my path ; but now Lead Thou me on ; I loved the garish day, and spite of fears, Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years. So long Thy power has blest me, sure it still Will lead me on O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent till The night is gone : And with the morn those angel-faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. Cardinal Newman. STILL, STILL WITH THEE. Still, still with Thee — when purple morning breaketh, When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee ; Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight. Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee 1 Alone with Thee — amid the mystic shadows, The solemn hush of nature newly born ; Alone with Thee in breathless adoration In the calm dew and freshness of the morn. When sinks the soul subdued by toil, to slumber, Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer ; Sweet the repose beneath thy wings o'ershading But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there. So shall it be at last in that bright morning. When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee, Oh, in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, Shall rise the glorious thought — I am with Thee. Hakkiet Beeoher Stowe. SOLILOQUY 281 FIFTEENTH STEP IN RENDERING. SOLILOQUY. Soliloquy comes from " solus " alone, and " loqui" to speak. It therefore means " to speak alone. " Soliloquy is a talking to one's self or with one's self. It is a discourse uttered in solitude. In this style, the real innermost self is revealed. Here is the greatest freedom possible of mental action and expression. The person talks with self as if self were another person, asks question and answers them. Long pauses are made for deliberation. Freedom of movement, — standing, sitting, walking with the hands behind the back etc., with unlimited expression of whatever fetlmg is dominant, is allowed. HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY. To be, or not to be, — that is the question : — Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them. — To die; — to sleep; — No more; — and, by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, — 't is a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die ; — to sleep ; — To sleep ! perchance to dream ; — Ay, there's the rub ; 282 THE ART OF RENDERING For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There's the respect That makes calamity of so long life : For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country from whose bourn No traveler returns, — puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought ; And enterprises of great pith and moment, With this regard, their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action. " Hamlet. " Shakespeare. KING OF DENMARK REMORSE. O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven ; It hath the primal eldest curse upon ' t, A brother's murder. Pray can 1 not, Though inclination be as sharp as will : My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent ; And, like a man to double business bound, SOLILOQUY 283 I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow ? Whereto serves mercy But to confront the visage of offence ? And what's in prayer but this twofold force, To be forestalled ere we come to fall, Or pardon'd being down ? Then I'll look up ; My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer Can serve my turn ? ' Forgive me my foul murder ? ' That cannot be ; since I am still possess'd Of those effects for which I did the murder, — My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. May one be pardon'd and retain the offence ? In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law : but 'tis not so above ; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature ; and we ourselves compell'd, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. What then? What rests? Try what repentance can : what can it not ? Yet what can it when one cannot repent? O wretched state ! O bosom black as death ! O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, Art more engaged ! Help, angels ! Make assay. Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe! All may be well. Hamlet. " Shakespeare. 284 THE ART OF RENDERING WHAT MY LOVER SAID. By the merest chance, in the twilight gloom, In the orchard path he met me ; In the tall wet grass, with its faint perfume, A nd I tried to pass but he made no room — Oh, I tried, but he would not let me. So I stood and blushed till the grass grew red, With my face bent down above it ; While he took my hand as he whispering said — How the clover lifted each pink, sweet head To listen to all that my lover said ; Oh, the clover in bloom — how I love it ! In the high wet grass went the path to hide ; And the low wet leaves hung over ; But I could not pass on either side, For I found myself when I vainly tried In the arms of toy steadfast lover. And he held me there and he raised my head, While closed the path before me : And he looked down into my eyes and said — How the leaves bent down from the boughs overhead To listen to all that my lover said — Oh, the leaves hanging lightly o'er me ! Had he moved aside but a little way I could surely then have passed him ; And he knew I never could wish to stay, And would not have heard what he had to say Could I only aside have cast him. It was almost dark, and the moments sped, And the.searching night wind found us, But he drew me nearer and softly said — How the pure sweet wind grew still instead SOLILOQUY 285 To listen to all that my lover said ; Oh, the whispering wind around us ! I am sure he knew when he held me fast, That I must be all unwilling, For I tried to go, and I would have passed, As the night was come with its dew, at last, And the sky with its stars was filling. But he clasped me close when 1 would have fled, And he made me hear his story, And his soul came out from his lips and said — How the stars crept out when the white moon led, To listen to all that my lover said, Oh, the moon and the stars in glory ! I know that the grass and the leaves will not tell ; And I'm sure that the wind, precious rover, Will carry my secret so safely and well That no being shall ever discover One word of the many that rapidly fell From the eager lips of my lover ; And the moon and the stars that looked over Shall never reveal what a fairy-like spell They wove round about us that night in the dell, In the path through the dew-laden clover ; Nor echo the whispers that made my heart swell, As they fell from the lips of my lover. Homer Greene. ALONE. I miss you, my darling, my darling, The embers burn low on the hearth ; And still is the stir of the household, And hushed is the voice of its mirth ; 286 THE ART OF RENDERING The rain plashes fast on the terrace, The winds past the lattices moan ; The midnight chimes out from the minster, And I am alone. I want you, my darling, my darling ; I am tired with care and with fret ; I would nestle in silence beside you, And all but your presence forget, In the hush of the happiness given, To those who through trusting have grown To the fullness of love in contentment, But I am alone. I call you, my darling, my darling ; My voice echoes back on my heart ; I stretch my arms to you in longing, And lo I they fall empty, apart. I whisper the sweet words you taught me, The words that we only have known, Till the blank of the dumb air is bitter, For I am alone. I need you, my darling, my darling ; With its yearning my very heart aches; The load that divides us weighs harder ; I shrink from the jar that it makes. Old sorrows rise up to beset me ; Old doubts make my spirit their own. Oh, come through the darkness and save me, For I am alone. Ro^pRT J. BUKDETTE. MONOLOGUE 287 SIXTEENTH STEP IN RENDERING. MONOLOGUE. Monologue is a Dramatic composition for a single performer. A Monologue is a play where only one character appears. The speech and action may imply or suggest other actors. The speech and action should be governed by the principles of Dramatic Art. The Monologue may be given with scenery and costume, or without : the speaker may suggest both ; he may use descriptive language. QUEEN VASHTI'S LAMENT. Is this all the love that he bore me, my husband, to publish my face To the nobles of Media and Persia, whose hearts are be- sotted and base? Did he think me a slave, me, Yashti, the Beautiful, me, Queen of queens, To summon me thus for a show to the midst of his baccha- nal scenes? I stand like an image of brass, I, Yashti, in the sight of such men ! No, sooner, a thousand times sooner, the mouth of the lioness' den. Did he love me, or is he, too, though the King, but a brute like the rest ! But ever before, .... toward me he showed honor and grace ; 288 THE ART OF RENDERING He was King, I was Queen, and those nobles, he made them remember their place, But now all is changed ; I am vile, they are honored, they push me aside, A butt for Memucan and Shethar and Meres, gone mad in their pride ! Shall I faint, shall 1 pine, shall 1 sicken and die for the loss of his love ? Not I ; lam queen of myself, though the stars fall from heaven above. The stars ! ha ! the torment is there, for my light is put out by a star, That has dazzled the eyes of the King and his court and his captains of war. He was lonely, they say, and he looked like a ghost, as he sat at his wine, On the couch, where, of yore, by his side, his Beautiful used to recline ; But the King is a slave to his pride; to his oath and the laws of the Medes, And he cannot call Vashti again, though his poor heart is wounded and bleeds. So they sought through the land for a wife, while the King thought of me all the while I can see him, this moment, with eyes that are lost for the loss of a smile, Gazing dreamily on while each maiden is temptingly passed in review. While the love in his heart is awake with the thought of a face that he knew I Then she came, when his heart was grown weary with loving the dream of the past ! MONOLOGUE 289 She is fair— I could curse her for that, if I thought that this passion would last 1 But, e'en if it last, all the love is for me, and, through good and through ill, The King will remember his Vashti, will think of his Beau- tiful still. What is it? Oft as T lie awake and my pillow is wet with tears There comes — it came to me just now— a flash, then dis- appears ; A flash of thought that makes this life a re-enacted scene, That makes me dream what was will be, and what is now, has been. And I, when age on age has rolled, shall sit on the royal throne, And the King shall love his Vashti, his Beautiful, his own, And for the joy of what has been and what again will be, I'll try to bear this awful weight of lonely misery ! The star 1 Queen Esther ! blazing light that burns into my soul I The star ! the star ! Oh ! flickering light of life beyond control ! O King ! remember Vashti, thy Beautiful, thy own, Who loved thee and will love thee btill, when Esther's light has flown ! Johh Reade. A TALE. What a pretty tale you told me Once upon a time — Said you found it somewhere ( scold me! ) Was it prose or was it rhyme, 290 THE ART OF RENDERING Greek, or Latin ? Greek, you said, While your shoulder propped my head. Anyhow there's no forgetting This much if no more, That a poet ( pray, no petting ! ) Yes, a bard, sir, famed of yore, Went where such like used to go, Singing for a prize, you know. Well, he had to sing, nor merely Sing but play the lyre ; Playing was important clearly Quite as singing ; I desire, Sir, you keep the fact iu mind For a purpose that's behind. There stood he, while deep attention Held the judges round, — Judges able, I should mention, To detect the slightest sound Sung or played amiss : such ears Had old judges, it appears ! None the less he sang out boldly, Flayed in time and tune, Till the judges, weighing coldly Each note's worth, seemed, late or soon, Sure to smile " In vain one tries Picking faults out : take the prize " When, a mischief ! Were they seven Strings the lyre possessed ? Oh, and afterwards eleven , Thank you ! Well, sir,- who had guessed Such ill luck in store ? — it happed One of those same seven strings snapped. MONOLOGUE 291 All was lost, then ! No ! a cricket ( What "cicada?" Pooh!) —Some mad thing that left its thicket For mere love of music — flew With its little heart on fire, Lighted on the crippled lyre. So that when f Ah joy ! ) our singer For his truant string Feels with disconcerted finger, What does cricket else but fling Fiery heart forth, sound the note Wanted by the throbbing throat? Ay, and ever to the ending, Cricket chirps at need, Executes the hand's intending, Promptly, perfectly, — indeed Saves the singer from defeat With her chirrup low and sweet. Till, at ending, all the judges Cry with one assent " Take the prize — a prize who grudges Such a voice and instrument ? Why. we took your lyre for harp, So it shrilled us forth F sharp I " Did the conquerer spurn the creature, Once its service done? Thaf s no such uncommon feature In the case when Music's son Finds his Lotte's power too spent For aiding soul-development. No ! This other, on returning Homeward, prize in hand, 292 THE ART OF RENDERING Satisfied his bosom's yearning ; ( Sir, I hope you understand ! ) — Said " Some record there must be Of this cricket's help to me ! " So, he made himself a statue : Marble stood, life-size ; On the lyre, he pointed at you, Perched his partner in the prize ; Never more apart you found Her, he throned, from him, she crowned. That's the tale : its application ? Somebody I know Hopes one day for reputation Through his poetry thafs — Oh, All so learned and so wise, And deserving of a prize ! If he gains one, will some ticket, When his statue's built, Tell the gazer " Twas a cricket Helped my crippled lyre, whose lilt Sweet and low, when strength usurped Softness' place i* the scale, she chirped? For as victory was nighest, While I sang and played, — With my lyre at lowest, highest, Eight alike, — one string that made ' Love ' sound soft was snapt in twain, Never to be heard again, — Had not a kind cricket fluttered, Perched upon the place Vacant left, and duly uttered Love, Love, Love, ' whene'er the bass MONOLOGUE 293 Asked the treble to atone For its somewhat sombre drone. " But you don't know music ! Wherefore Keep on casting pearls To a— poet ? All I care for Is — to tell him that a girl's Love " comes aptly in when gruff Grows his singing. There, enough I Kobekx Browning. THE WAGES OF SIN. Say, old pard, you see that dwellin' in that yonder clump of trees Tumbliu' down and lookin' awkward like a sinner on his knees? See them vines a hangin' faithful to the house and cistern shed Like the soul that keeps a clingin' to the hopes it knows is dead? Well, I'm not a cryin* baby, whinin' round and sheddin' tears, For I've lived on disappointment now for more than thirty years. I have lived a life as wicked as the devil's oldest son, And I've spent no time repentin* for the deviltry I've done. And I'm known in all these diggins as the toughest of the crew, And I don't talk tender hearted to a livin' soul but you. Them that's never felt a wound, pard, is the ones that laughs at scars, And the man that's got his freedom sneers at them behind the bars. 294 THE ART OF RENDERING Oh, it sets my heart a throbbin' when I look on that old place, Where my hopes was crushed and trampled by a devil ! See that face ! See him, pard ! He's in the doorway ! See that mad glare in his eye ! See him scowl and stare around him ! Hear him swear that she shall die ! See, he's got a bloody dagger! — He has killed her! — She is dead ! O, my God, may heaven's curses rain upon his murderous head! Pard, don't catch an' hold me that way — I'm not mad ! He's often there In that dark deserted doorway scowlin' on me with a stare That would drive me mad forever, if I didn't chance to know That the devil got his spirit more than thirty years ago. Yes, I'm all right now The story?— Certainly. Its thirty years Since I looked on that old dwellin' without fightin' back my tears. If an angel ventured from the pearly gates above An' deluged an earthly household with a flood of light and love Thaf s the house that entertained her ; that's the home her presence blessed. And ( for I was pure and young then ) I was her most welcome guest. Love her? Pard, a mortal bosom never harbored love like mine For a mortal — she was mortal — but to me she was divine. All my thoughts an' all my bein', all my hopes to her was wed — MONOLOGUE 295 But I changed from man to devil when I found my hopes was dead. It was this way, pard, she loved me as I loved her an* in me Hoped to find a soul-companion for all time that was to be. You have read of man's creation— of the garden full of flowers — How he lived in such contentment there among its walks and bowers ; But the sweetest flowers were withered, crushed and blighted, one and all When the poison of the serpent left his trail upon them all. She an' I was in our Eden all alone, when there arose One whose heart and mind was fashioned somethin* like mine, I suppose, For he loved her, pard, and wooed her with an eloquence and skill That if she had been more fickle, might have changed her girlish will, But she flew to me for refuge and declined to hear him more, Though he offered her position, jewels, wealth and gold galore. Pard, I've noticed love ain't always hangin' round where diamonds shine, Love dont always look for jewels — Love ain't mortal — it's divine. Oh, he loved her with a madness worthy of a better man, And he wooed her with a fervor that to desperation ran. Pard, the blackest, maddest monster that the bounds of hell has crossed, Is a proud and jealous lover, when he finds his suit is lost. 296 THE ART OF RENDERING Yes, 'twas in that very doorway one still evenin' when the moon Just had kissed the bright horizon — " Good bye, I will be back soon. " And its first bright rays was fallin' on her fairy form and face, And my sweetheart stood there splendid in her ever match- less grace, When he fondly looked upon her, caught her lily hand and said; " Kate, if that man ever claims you, it will be when you are dead ! " Then she raised her raven lashes just in time to see him start Brandishin' a gleamin' dagger — and he stabbed her to the heart ! Stabbed my darlin' ! Yes, he stabbed her ! Stabbed her with his wicked blade, And her heart blood leaped and sputtered through the cru- el wound he made. Pard, they say some imperfection in our guidin' star of Fate, While it fetches what we long for, often brings it up too late; But for me I'm always waitin' — surely that was never said For a man who waits forever on a hope he knows is dead. When I saw 'em lay my darlin' in the cold and clammy ground I knew my heart was buried underneath that cruel mound ; I was wild with grief and anger and I kneeled above her breast, And I gave eternal freedom to the devil 1 possessed Swore by all the holy angels by her spirit and her God, MONOLOGUE 297 That the devil who had killed her should not live upon the sod Of the earth that now possessed her, and that I would never rest Till this hand that 1 had pledged her, sunk a dagger in his breast ! Pard, I killed him! This same dagger cut him and his soul apart ! Seven times this keen blade quivered joyously in his false heart! Oh, Ldanced in wildest triumph as he writhed upon the ground And his hateful blood came pouriu'from each madly gapin' wound ! There I left him, cold and lifeless with his eyes and mouth aghast And I knowed he had his wages for his services at last ! He was dead, I know he was, pard, for I saw him stiff and cold, And I know that he was gathered safe into the devil's fold. But somehow, his corpse or spirit, something like he was in life Seems to go wherever I go, brandishin' that bloody knife ! And I guess he'll pay me up, pard, when at last I'm gath- ered in, For the Book says Death's the wages that the devil pays for sin. Booth Lowrey. 298 THE ART OF RENDERING SUBJECTIVE POEMS. IT IS NOT TOO LATE. " And is it too late? No, for time is a fiction and limits no fate. Thought alone is eternal. Time thralls it in vain For the thought that springs upward and yearns to re- gain The pure source of spirit, there is no too late. Owen Meredith. The day will come when the faithful hand Shall grasp its reward long sought; The day will come when the heart's demand In some way shall be wrought. The day will come when the soul that yearns And throbs with a sad unrest Shall find release and shall rest in peace — The guest of a tranquil breast. The day will come when the cheerless ray That pales at the careworn heart Shall shine forth bright as the glad noonday And darkness and clouds depart. The day will come when the soul that waits And braves as the seasons roll Shall bask in the sunshine pure and sweet Of its heaven appointed goal. Oh, the days are dark when the soul is sad The flowers bloom and fade The sickening rays of the sun seem chill As a damp and darkening shade. SUBJECTIVE POEMS 299 But I hear a voice on the evening breeze That comes from the far-off home. And bids me wait for the hand of fate And whispers, " The day wilt come. " Booth Lowrey. YOU CAME. The days went by with monotonous tread, Each like the day that was spent and dead ; And my heart beat on to a dull sad rhyme, Like muffled bells that had lost their chime. Until one day, like a sunbeam bright, You came, and chased away my night : And I forgot that life was sad And all the world grew young and glad. A laugh came rippling down the years ; A rainbow gleamed through all my tears ; And the notes of a sweet and tender strain Were borne to me on the wings of Pain. The truth you brought, I needed so : The heart's choice flowers from sorrows grow. May you be blessed through life, the same As you blessed my life, the day you came. Elizabeth Purser. SOUL SYMPATHY. In my waking, in my sleeping Shadows come upon me creeping Till these eyes grow dim with weeping, See the light of life no more. 300 THE ART OF RENDERING For my spirit's mute appealing There's a calmness o'er me stealing, And a light from Heaven revealing Truths that I have known before. Am I waking ? Am I dreaming ? Is it real ? Is it seeming ? Heaven's light upon me streaming, Still the shadows round me roll ! Then 'tis true that I must borrow Some dear fellow-mortal's sorrow Thro' the night, but soon the morrow Will awake that other soul. Will awake her to new beauty, Will arouse her to her duty And bestow on her the booty Of the conquerer, — by and by. Then this soul in rapture singing, Will awake glad echoes ringing In mine, while we soar on clinging To a hope that cannot die. Harriet Mabry. SUNLIGHT AND SHADOW. The hardest thing you had to do Thro' all these passing years, And yet the noblest thing you did Was to smile thro' all your tears. Tho' darkest night-clouds 'round you hung, Your soul was rack'd by fears, By far the bravest thing you did Was to smile through all your tears. SUBJECTIVE POEMS 301 Thro' deepest grief alone you went, The world had clos'd its ears, God knows the grandest thing you did, Was to smile thro' all your tears. Bertband E. Riggs. YOUTH MEMORIES. I remember oft and sadly, The days of my young years, When in my wild and roving thoughts I knew no earthly fears ; When blithely gay I ran to meet Each face I could then see ; And loving, trusting, to each one, So thought each one to me. I remember, oh, how often, The scenes of my merry home, When but a little laughing lad, In all my boyish bloom, When I with brother, sister, both So joyous passed the day, And scarce a thought of trouble came, But all was blithe and gay. I remember sister's kindness, Sister Emma's loving smile, As in our little mischief sports We laughed away the while. Her ringing laugh, her sparkling eye, Her sisterly embrace, These from my fitful memory No cares can e'er efface. 302 THE ART OF RENDERING I remember, but too sadly, At last when I was grown, And out upon the wide, wide world I wandered forth alone ; I saw the tear steal from her eye, With grief her bosom swell, The trembling hand she gave to me, The kiss, the last farewell. Time has placed us far apart, And many scenes have passed. But oft I think of sister's kiss, The gentlest and the last. That dearest sister, ever kind, I nevermore may see ; Yet in my dreamy fitful thoughts She ever smiles on me. And now amid my worldly careB, I fondly think of home, Content and innocent as I lived there, And ne'er had thought to roam. 'Tis true, the time once haply was When all was love and Heaven, I'd fellowshipped no wilful wrong, To nought of sin was given. But now I'm older, and perhaps Wiser, yet wisely wild. But still I'm farther off from Heaven, Than when 1 was a child. Then I ne'er saw my destiny, In the flood light of our age, By the vigils of my past life, Writ out on Nature's page. SUBJECTIVE POEMS 303 Older, wiser, though am I, More learned in deeds of wrong, I often long for ignorance The same I had when young. Youth learned through age is wisest far Of all the worldly wise. But age yet leaves its leprous mark, Youth's innocence defies. Heaven, I trust, will bear me up Through all my wayward ways For sake of hopes I entertain Of youth in coming days, As slowly now I plod along. The past lights up my way, The present bids me early grasp The future better day. Alba Honywell. Me wherever my life is lived. O to be self-balanced for contingencies ! O to confront night, storms, hunger, ridicule, accidents, rebuffs, as the trees and animals do 1 O the orator's joys! To inflate the chest — to roll the thun- der of the voice out from the ribs and throat. To make the people rage, weep, hate, desire, with yourself. To lead America — to quell America with a great tongue. O the joy of a manly selfhood I To walk with erect carri- age, a step springy and elastic ! To look with calm gaze or with flashing eye I To apeak with a full and sonorous voice out of a broad chest ! To confront with your personality all the other personalities of the earth ! to have my life henceforth my poem of joys I Walt Whitman, 304 THE ART OF RENDERING ADDITIONAL STUDIES IN KENDERING. ANIMATION. The Chariot Race. Wallace. Fenno's Favorites, No. 6. Darius Green and His Flying Machine. J m T. Trowbridee A Song of Victory. Exodus XV. Doom of Claudius and Cynthia. Thompson. Fav. No. 1. Mary's Night Ride. George W. Cable. Fav. No. 7. CONVERSATIONAL. Mrs. Caudle. Douglas Jerrold. The Land of Shining Gold. George R. Sintms. Fav. No. 7. The Kingdom of Heaven. Matthew XIII. Aunty Doleful's Visit. M. K. Dallas. Fenno's Elocution. Laughing in Meeting. H. B. Stowe. Fenno's Elocution. NARRATIVE STYLE. The Tea-Kettle and the Cricket. Dickens. Fav. No. 9. The Fiddling Parson. Davy Crocket. Fav. No. 10. Battle of Quebec. Bancroft. A Day at Niagara. Mark Twain. Fenno's Elocution. DESCRIPTIVE STYLE. Storming the Ice Palace. W. H. H. Murray. Fav. No. 2. Sunrise on the Mississippi. Mark Twain. Fav. No. 1. Winter in Louisville. FrankH.Fenno. Fav. No. 2. The Garden. Pope. " Peace, Be Still. '' Fav. No. 2. FORMING PICTURES- One Niche the Highest. Elihu Burrett. Fav. No. 7. Elsie's Child. Julia C. Dorr. Fav. No. 1. Shamus O'Brien. Samuel Lover. Fenno's Elocution. " God Knows. " Benjamin F. Taylor. Fav. No 5. ADDITIONAL STUDIES IN RENDERING 305 VITAL, ANIMATED PICTURES. Burning of Chicago. Carkton. Fenno's Elocution. Pharaoh's Army Crossing the Red Sea. Exodus XIV. Sennacherib's Army. Lord Byron. An Arctic Aurora. Fa v. No. 2. IDEAL PICTURES. The Culprit Fay. /. Rodman Drake. Fav. No. 2. Ballad of Babie Bell. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. The Rainbow. Fenno's Elocution. Robert of Lincoln. William Cullen Bryant. SLIDES OF THE VOICE. The Pen and the Tongue. H. W. Beecher. Fav. No. 9. Benefits of Wisdom. Proverbs IV. The Hour of Prayer. Victor Hugo. Shylock to Antonio. Shakespeare. VITAL SLIDE. The Great Bell Roland. Tilton. Fenno's Elocution. The Fate of Virginia. Macaulay. Forging the Anchor. Samuel Ferguson. Fav. No. 10. SLIDE IN VOLUME. The Bells. Edgar Allan Foe. Fenno's Elocution. The Vineyard of the Lord. Isaiah V, IX, X : 4. The Happy Warrior. Wordsworth. O Captain ! My Captain. Walt Whitman. PAUSE. AH in Each. Ralph Waldo Emerson. Fav. No. 9. The Hymn on the Nativity. Milton. Aux Italiens. Owen Meredith. Fav. No. 10. 306 THE ART OF RENDERING RELATION OF VALUES. Virtues vs. Vices. Proverbs. Whiskey — its Poetry and Prose. Fav No. 5. The Character of Charles I. Macaulay. VOLUME OF VOICE Paul Before Agrippa. Acts XXVI. The Black Horse and His Rider. Sheppard. Fav. No. 3. Heroes of the Land of Penn. George Lippard. Fav. No. 2. The Unknown Speaker. Fav. No. 5. A Camp Meeting in Texas. John B. Gougk. Fav. No. 9. God's First Temples. William Cullen Bryant. Fav. No. 5. LYRIC. Sunrise. Sidney Lanier. Gradatim. /. G. Holland. Love Song and Reply. Prometheus Unbound. Shelley. Lamentation. Jean Ingelow. Regret. Jean Ingelow. The Tides. Longfellow. Tia the Last Rose of Summer. Moore. SOLILOQUY. Anthony over the Body of Csesar. Shakespeare. A Dagger of the Mind. Macbeth. Shakespeare. P. 233. The Cardinal's Soliloquy. E. Bulwer Lytton. Job Curses the Day of his Birth. Job. III. MONOLOGUE. A Man After Her Own Heart. Edwin Drew. Fav. No. 5. The Hat. Coquelin. Fav. No. 6. My Last Duchess. Robert Browning. A Forgiveness. Robert Browning. FENNO'S SCIENCE OF SPEECH A Condensed and comprehensive treatise on the culture of Body, Mind and Voice, to be used in connection with THE ART OF RENDERING Comprising Chart of Elocution, Laws of Voice and Action, Articulation, Charts and Illustrations. Designed to be used as a text-book in the class-room, and for private study as well as by readers and speakers generally By FRANK H. FENNO, A.M., F.S.Sc. Teacher, Lecturer, and Author of "Fenno's Elocution," "Lectures on Elocution," etc._ Compiler of "Fenno's Favorites" Revised and Enlarged by MRS. FRANK H. FENNO, B. 0. THE MENTAL METHOD. I. Theory. III. Scientific. II. Practice. IV. Artistic. In The Science of Speech, the result of the author's careful in- vestigations during many years, the unchangeable Laws of Voice and Action are developed step by step, formulated and taught. In this Natural Scientific Method of Voice Culture, Gesture, Enunciation, and Modulation, the principle is, "Not imitation, but strict con- formity to the Laws of Speech, and these laws the only baais of criticism." Twelvemo, Cloth, 167 pages; Price, $1.25. FENNO'S ELOCUTION — OR How To Read and Speak A COMPREHENSIVE AND SYSTEMATIC SERIES OF EXERCISES FOR Gesture, Calisthenics, and Cultivation of the Voice A COLLECTION OP 150 LITERARY GEMS FOR READING AND SPEAKING. By FRANK H. FENNO, A.M., F.S.Sc. IN FOUR PARTS: I. Theoretical. III. Helps to Study. II. Vocal Culture. IV. Readings and Recitals. A WORK thoroughly adapted to the wants of both the student and the amateur reader. It covers every essential point in Articulation, Modulation and Gesture. The chapter on "Vocal Culture" carefully outlines, with exercises, an important feature to proper cultivation and development. "Helps to Study" show clearly the importance of care and accuracy, and assure a degree of perfection, to all who thoroughly master them, well worth striving for. The "Readings and Recitals" have been selected with the great- est care, and throughout show the work of an accomplished elocutionist. i2mo, Cloth, Extra, 414 pages; Price, $1.25. FENNO'S FAVORITES — FOR — Reading and Speaking — COMPILED BY — FRANK H. FENNO, A.M., F.S.Sc. TEN NUMBERS NOW READY. Nos. i, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 9 and io Contain ioo Choice Selections fox Reading and Speaking. Nos. 4 and 8 Contain 50 Choice Dialogues for Speaking and Acting, WITH DEF- INITE PARTICULARS AS TO COSTUMES, SCENES, ENTREES, ETC. These selections have been edited with much care by Prof. Fenno, who is thoroughly acquainted with the various tastes and capacities of readers of all ages, and with the field of literature best suited to this purpose. The need of variety and general usefulness has been kept steadily in view. The pieces are all of a high character. A judicious variety of prose and poetry, of humor, pathos and trag- edy. Those best adapted for elocutionary purposes have teen chosen in each case. Many pieces are original, and appear for the first time in these volumes. Each number is prefaced with a practical essay on some branch of elocution. The books are uniform in appearance. The type is large and clear, the paper good, and the size handy. The merit of these books is proven by the favor with which they have been received. More than 200,000 copies have already bteen sold. Substantially bound, i2mo, Paper 30 cts. each. Each Number Complete in Itself. FENNO'S FAVORITES, NO. 1.— PRINCIPLES OF GESTURE. The Reaper*H Dream. Our Magna Charta. The Ride of Death. A Wood Carver's Ro- mance. William Brown of Oregon. Interviewing Mrs. Young. On the concord Road. The Slave's Dream. Jimmy Brown's Steam- Chair. Unknown. Fatherless Joe. Scene at Niagara Falls. "Don't Feel too Big." Columbia Crumb. The Leap of Roushan Beg. Greatest Walk on Record. Bessie's Christmas Dream. The World We Live in. Our Welcome. The Well-Digger. The Blind Preacher. Larrle O'Dee. Found Dead. The Jlners. The Mount of the Holy Cross. A Pathetic Old Man. The Fireman's Prayer. Life. Lookout Mountain. The Emancipation of Man. Samson. Waste Not, Want Not. The Old Sergeant. Wapshot'8 Woes. The Palace o'the King. In the Mining Town. Yacob Wegenhelseran- genf eldts Setting a Hen. The Jackdaw of Rbelms. The Maiden's Prayer. Bosbyschell's Confession. Erin's Flag. Trouble In the Choir. Brother Watkins. After the Sale. Asking the Guv'nor. Father Roach. Baggage Master Brick's Lunch-Can. . The Llghtnlng-Rod Dis- penser. An Original Love Story. The Doom of Claudius and Cynthia. Elsie's Child. Kentucky Philosophy. A Thanksgiving Dinner. The Honest Deacon. The Two Mills. Glad Tidings. The Fate of Sergeant Thin. The Two Ideals. Night on Shlloh. The German Family on the Cars. Gllderoy. The Child's Dream. Mind ShUdren. Cheerfulness. Building the Years. Rhymes for House-Clean- ing Times. The Engine. S'posln*. Jane Conquest. The Lady or the Tiger. Love on Skates. A Baptist on Presby- ter ans. God's Beverage. Hannah Jane. The Palmetto and the Pine. , A Railway Matinee. The Law of Death. The Easter Altar-Cloth. The Ballad of Hiram Hover. On the Other Train. The Old Fair Story. The Ship on Fire. My Madcap Darling. The Tides are Rising. The Minstrel's Curse. Patient Mercy Jones. Sunrise on the Mississippi. Try the Fun. Searching for the Slain. The Briefless Barrister. Jet. A Negro's Account of the Prodigal Son. Durandarte and Balerma. The Dead Colonel In the Blue. Paying Toll. Annals of the Poor. The Photograph Album. The Martyrs of Sandomlr Uncle Moses and the Comet. Building and Being. FENNO'S FAVORITES, NO. 2.— HOW TO IMPERSONATE. The Curriculum of Life. A Visit to Jack Frost's Palace. A Rhyme of the Navy. She Wanted to Learn Elocution. The Destruction of Pom- pell. Suffering and Hope. The Stern Parent. A New Declaration. The Golden Axe. A Boy's Lecture on 'Knives.' Stonewall Jackson's Death. Was it Job that had Warts on Him. On the Stairway. Roland and Diana. The Irish Schoolmaster. A Picture of the Past. Piano-Music. Relation of the Mosquito to the Human Family. •'That's but Nafral." Curfew Bells. When the Clock Strikes XXI. The Arctic Martyrs. The Lion's Ride. Smelling by Telephone. The Ten Virgins. How Jake Found Him. Hiawatha Johnson's Wooing. How Uncle Henry Dyed His Hair. Wendell Phillips. "The Roll Bengol Tag- ger." The Pilgrim's Vision. A Solemn Warning. The Humble Servant Girl. Our Aln Countrle. The Pewee and the wild Rose. Mr. Grimshaw's Mistake. The Recognition. An Arctic Aurora. A Welsh Classic. Negro Worship In the South. For a Warning. Woman vs. Heroism. Willie Wee's Grace. Drinking a Tear. Fat and Lean. Winter in Louisville. The Sioux Chief's Daugh- ter. The Sad-Eyed Stranger. How we Tried to Whip the Teacher. "Peace, be StiUI" Sunday Flshln'. The Damsel of Peru. The New Era. The Insulted Pig. The Great Commander. The Circle of Death. The After-Dinner Orator. The Storming of the Ice- Palace. A Ballad of Capri. Cho-che-Bang and Chi- chll-Bloo. A Musical Contest. FrldoUn. The Story of Don Vejea. Bachelor Brown. The Christmas Prayer. Uncle Skinflint's Christ- mas Gift. The Culprit Fay. Nancy. The Story of Ingomar. " One of the Little Ones." The Old Reading Class. Oft Barnegat. The Going of Arthur. The Tapestry Weavers . AuntJemlma'sCourtshlp. Heroes of the Land of Penn. Dot Maid Mlt Hazel Hair. An Italian Legend. Night Brings out the Stars. The "Shiner" and the Waifs. The Bobbin Ran Out. The Bugle. Entering In. Diffidence. Brother Gardner on Wickedness. A Smart Boy. Mansle Wanch's First and Last Flay. The Hermit of the Cave. The First Sabbatb. New Year's Chimes. Little Elfin's Piea. Our Choir. A New Year Address. The M-Man wlch didn't drink W-W-W-Water. The Baby is Dead. The Unfinished Song. The Maniac's Love. Man, His Proverbial Ill- Luck and Continual Foolishness. Bettlna Mazzl. "Over the Range." FENNO'S FAVORITES, NO. 3. — CULTURE OP THE VOICE. A Hero of 1780. God In tbe Sunrise. Before the Wedding. Neddie's Thanksgiving Vlalt. Purpose In Life. A Little Child. The Tender Heart. Big Ben Bolton. The First Predicted Eclipse. Sixteen and Sixty. The BaUad of Beflana. Clerk Muggins. A Life's Hymn. In the Catacombs. Went Out That Way. Come Under My Plaldle. The Prettiest Girl. A Sly Old Bat. Handsome Girl In a Crowded Car. Death. Old Amazln' Grace. The Cranes of Ibycus. The Pretty Roller Skater. Reflections on the Needle. The Hot Axle. The Fountain of Youth. Uncle Ned's Defence. Arkansas Justice. The Way It Is Said. 'Der Dog und der Lob- ster." The Black Horse and His Rider. The Last Hymn. Fame. Curly-Head. The Irish Picket. How It Struck Jim. Garter Gray. Ethloplomanla. Unto Death. An Evening Idyl. The Removal. Bill Nye's Mine. The Seventh Plague of Egypt. .When the Cows Come Home. Love at the Seaside. The Churoh Spider. "Dem Codicils." The Ancient Miner's Story. An Irish School. A Fight with the Flood. True Courage. A Single Hair. By the Shore of the River. How Kate Shelly Crossed the Bridge Difficult Love-Making. The Alpine Flower. Keturan's Christmas. Six Times an Orphan. Five. The Surveyor and the School Ma'am. MIsa M'Llndy's Court- ship. The Wandering Jew. The Valentine. A Donation Party. The Supper of St. Greg- ory. Minding the Hens. Our Baby. The School at Talladega. The Friars' Christmas. The Two Roads. The Gladiator. Pat and the Frogs. What a Woman Can Do. The Neglected Pattern. Leadvllle Jim. Parson Jlnglejaw and the Sewing Circle. A Tussle with Immi- grants. An Eastern Story. The Goat and the Swing. Major Jones's Courtship. The Lovers. The Mountain Snow- Wralth. Bossing a Bar'l In April. The Golden Gate. The Victim. What Drove Me Into a Lunatlo Asylum. Dave Brlggs. Lasca. Sam's Letter. George Washington. Spectacles. The Quarrel. The Arithmetic Lesson. Brave Alta Wayne. The Ship of Faith. The Boy and the Frog. The Tragedy. The First Day. TheSplnnlng-Wheel Song. "Angels Bright anj Fair." FENNO'S FAVORITES, NO. 5.— READING— READING IN PUBLIC. A Drop of Ink. The Engineer's Story. A Boy Again. " Nearer to Thee." The Victor of Marengo. Since Mickey Got Kilt In the War. The Dark River. The Drummer-Boy of Kent. Sun Dust. A Lesson to Lovers. The Joys of Millionaires. Elizabeth Zane. Blood-Money. Her Evidence. The Puzzled Priest. The Farmer's Club. Courageous Johnny. "Cut, Cut Pehlnd." The Coliseum. The Monk's Magnificat. MuUlns the Agnostic. The Flood and the Ark. German Opera. Italian Opera. The Clown's Romance. Death of Garfield. The Glacier Bed. The Ballad of Cassandra Brown. I'll be at Home Thanks- glvln'-. God's First Temples. The Man and the Foxes. Pompeii. , The Splnnlng-Wheel Song. The Old Continentals. Sufferings of the Pilgrims. A Rude Awakening. "God Knows." Geoffrey and Beatrice. Scientific Jones. My First Ax. A Small Boy's Composi- tion on Cats. A Ballad of the North. "Inasmuch." Heard them Counted. The Origin of Scandal. Mrs. Noodle's Conun- drum. Looking Out for Number One. No Kiss. Mrs. Piper. The Challenge. The Veterans. The Two Gates. The Bell of Zanora. A Man After Her Own Heart. Shadows on the Curtain. The Christening. I Wantl I Want! The Unknown Speaker. The Joshua of 1776. "I'll Report to God the Reason Why." Joslah Allen at Saratoga. Sunset Prophecy. The Deacon's Courtship. Whiskey — Its Poetry and Prose. The Nine Suitors. In Answer. Penn's Monument. The Dutchman and the Raven. Composition on the Ant- Eater. Jim's Little Pra'r. "Them Flurdy Hens." The Loom of Life. An Essay on Butter- Making. An Idyl. Miss Witchazel and Mr. Thtstlepod. Michael's Mallet. The Man Who Would Not Sleep With His Brother. Glnevra. The King and the Child. Giving Mrs. Scudder the Small-Pox. "Yes. I'm Guilty." The Elf-Child. Sambo's Dilemma. The Pilot's Story. For the Chief's Daugh- ter. Burdock's Music Box. Rebel, or Loyalist. A Little Peach. Love Flying In at the Window. The Whistler. A Spool of Thread. The Bell of Liberty. A Culprit. Taking an Elevator. The Boy's Complaint. He Never Told a Lie. "Ask Mamma." Let Down the Bars. The Catholic Psalm FENNO'S FAVORITES, The Hat. Miss Splicer Tries the Toboggan. Billy's Rose. David and Goliath. My Guest. Der Oak und Der Vine. The Bride of Relchen- steln. A Sleigh-Ride. The Aesthetic Cat-Tall. The Lock of Hair. Joe Ford the Fireman. The Chariot Race. The Tartar who Caught a Tartar. Tommy s Composition on Women. Lincoln's Last Dream. Rome Wasn't Built In a Day. Waiting the Dead. Eve. The Evils of War. How Cyrus Laid the Cable. Petah. Sir William Napier and Little Joan. Disadvantages of Moral Courage. A Church Scene. A Permanent Boarder. Fanner Jonathan's De- cision. Tim. Dream of Pilate's Wife. AuntNabby. The Drunkard s Dream. The Earth. The Light on Deadman s Bar. NO. 6.— SCHOOLROOM WORDS TO TEACHERS. Pat and the Deacon. James A. Garfield. A Love Song. Some Old Friends. The Modern Ravens. Why Old Jasper Was Not Sent to the Peniten- tiary. Kit Carson's Wife. The Chimes of Amster- dam. A Voice from the Poor- House. Behind Time. The Comet. Paudeen O 'Raff erty'a Say-Voyage. In School-Days. "Please to Say Amen." Mark Twain as a Farmer. On the Frontier. Murder Will Out. Darby and Joan. The Bible and Liberty. The King's Daughters. An Inquiring Friend. A Christmas Ballad. The Cripple Boy's Story. The Story of a Stowaway. Joslah and the Mermaid. The Rum Evil. The Freckled Faced Girl. Eighteen and Eighty. Our Craft Is Small. An Aesthetic House- keeper. Hatem Tol. MacDonald's Charge at Wagram. Petit Jean. A Rogue. The Moneyless Man. ELOCUTION— A FEW The Bashful Man's Story. Has Charity Begun. An August Idyl. The Round of Life. The Doctrine of Chance. Ticket O'Leave. Art Matters In Indiana. Vlrginny. Harry's Christmas. Rome and Carthage. A Scene at Jericho. Washington. Grandpa and Bess. Partnership. One Glass too Much. Burdette In Toledo. "Remember the Sabbath Day." Shacob's Lament. In Liquor. Jerusalem by Moonlight. The Battle Above the Clouds. The Irishman's Pano- rama. Review of the Grand Army. The Worm of the Still. How Terry Saved His Bacon. Caedmon. Death-Bed of Benedict Arnold. The Adventures of Mllti- ades Peterktn Paul. A Tarrytown Romance. The Flying Dutchman. The Swell. Flash — The Fireman's Story. Fritz and His Betsy Fall Out. FENNO'S FAVORITES, NO. 7.— THE MISSION OF SPEECH. Marcel. The Swan Song. The Sword of Gram. The Cow and the Bishop. Indifference. The Squire's Bargain. The Thanksgiving in Bos- ton Harbor. As the Pigeon Files. The Minuet. Grandma's Angel. Tommy Brown. The Ladder of St Augus- tine. The Old Actor's Story. The Fading Leaf. "Llmpy Tim." A Sleepy Little School. Andre and Hale. Echo and the Ferry. The Finding of the Cross. A Second Trial. One Niche the Highest. The Good Reciter. Baby In Church. Aunt Jemlna on the Woman Question. An Incident of the War. The Ride of Grand- mother Lee. "No Saloons Up There." The Battle of Bunker Hill. Proof Positive. Ancient and Modern Oratory. Little Chrlstel. The Idiot Lad. A Battery In Hot Action. One of the Heroes. Jimmy Brown's Sister's Wedding. The Spanish Mother. Address to Bartholdl's Statue. The Scholar In Politics. The Lady Judith's Vision. The Old Woman's Rail- way Signal. Count Zlnzendorf. The Book Agent Beats the Bandit. In the Signal Box. Jean Val jean the Convict. Money Musk. The King and the Cottage. The Value of Punctuality. The Two Villages. Mary's Night Ride. Perplexity. A Yachtman's Speech. The Sailing of King Olaf . BUI. the Engineer. "Kiss Me, Mamma." Zarafl. The Army of the Potomac. A New Year's Deed. Cavern Scene from "She." A Girl Heroine. "Wash Dolly up Like That." What's an Anthem? A Born Orator. There Is No Death. The Land of Shining Gold. A Tale of Long Ago. A Public School Idyl. The New South. The Tear of Repentance. New How It Struck Jim. Nellie's Victory. The Telegram. Katrlna's Visit to York. Mary Garvin. Sir Rupert's Wife. Lead the Way. Something Great. Farmer Stebblns at Ocean Grove. Toussalnt L'Overture. The Preacher's Vacation. We've Always Been Pro- vided For. Aunt Polly's " George Washington." Lady Wentworth. A Lesson of Thankful- ness. The McSwats Swear Off. The Time to Hate. The Substitute. A Week of Practice. The Flag's Birthday. A Russian Courtship. La Fayette. Garfield's Ride. The Two Brothers. The Ruling Passion. The Drummer Boy of Mission Ridge. The Pencil Tree. The Fancy-Work Maiden. The Lady Rohesia. Gettysburg. A Boy's Essay on Co- lumbus. Echo Dell. FENNO'S FAVORITES, NO. 9.— A WORD With Books. Elam Chase's Fiddle. Napoleon. The Little Western Man. He Danced at her Wedding. The Story of the Cable. The White Cross of Savoy . The Daffodils. Joe Bird, the Impostor. When Grandpa was a Little Boy. The Demon of the Fire. A New Year's Address. The Prayer-Gage. Bach'ler Bill's Thanks- glvin'. The Violin's Voice. Alec Yeaton's Son. Her Excuse. The Policeman's Story. Dark-Eyed Meuetabel. A Notable Tilt. "Let Your Women Keep Silence In the Churches." What She Said and What She Did. Extract from "Michael Strogoff." A Dream of the Sea. Indirection. The Photograph Habit. ** I wish I was a Grown- up." Thanksglvln* Pumpkin Pies. A Child's Power. The Sailor Boy's Dream. Young America in Pin- afore. The Transition Woman; Or, Sailing by the Stars. Not by the Wake. A Gettysburg Sketch. Classical Music. Ri vermouth Rocks. A Thank- Ye-Ma' am. The Cheerful Locksmith. Unfinished Music. The Bootblack. No Room for Mother. The Liberty Bell. There's a Beautiful Land by the Spoiler Untrod. Mrs. Blake's Visit to the White Mountains. In the Autumn Weather. Herve Rtel. Take Your Hands out of Your Pockets. The Little Martyr of Smyrna. The Wail of an Anach- ronistic Survival. Intemperance. On the Shores of Tennes- The "Gauger and the Sibyl. Wakln* the Young 'Uns. A Woman's Sentiment. The Engineer's Last Run. The Agnostic by his Brother's Bier. Selling the Baby. Reuben James. The Tea-Kettle and the Cricket. Chimneys. When this Old Flag was New. The Bartholdt Statue. Which Side Are You On? Mother's Doughnuts. Glimpses Into Cloudland. FENNO'S FAVORITES, NO. 10.— ELOCUTION The Debating Society. A Dream of Song. Two Passengers. Dan Perl ton's Ride. The Kaiser-Blume. Making Hopkins' Last Moments Easy. La Petite Coquette. The Kitchen Clock. Dicky's Christmas. Haunted Castles. Flattering Grandma. The End of All. A Legend of Hesse. Examined for a Regis- tered Letter. The Forging of the Anchor. Saved by a Song. The Dark Bridal. Beggar Jim. Time. Better Things. Impediment Joe. The Perpetuity of Nature. The Bell of Atrl. The City Choir. Home, Sweet Home. The Old Minstrel. The Rivulet. Words. The Meekest Man. The Women of Mumbles Head. The Devil's Wife. Old Daddy Turner. The Ballad of Breakneck. The Little Middle Daughter. The Light from over the Range. Embarkation of the Pil- grims. The Lost Chime. "Dat arBlll." Aux Italiens. Enchantment. Only a Newsboy. My First Love. The Outcast's Return. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The Lifeboat. Engaged. A Summer Lesson. The Festal Day has Come. The Love-Knot. The Minister's Daughter. Greatness of the Universe. "Come Unto Me." Which was the Richer? The Volunteer Organist. Like Mother Used to Make. The Fiddling Parson. The Engineer's Story. Proof vs. Argument. The Gray Champion. Hide and Seek. The Flag on Fort Sumter. The Queen's Jewels. At the Loom. The Month of Apple Blossoms. What the Echo Said. Arlon. A Child's Dream of aStar. TO PARENTS. The Legend of the Two Kings. Nott Shott. All's Punishment. Aunt Tabitha. The Pen and the Tongue. "There will be Briars where Berries Grow." The Dream of Greatness. Old Kitchen Reveries. A Laughing Chorus. Women — A Girl's Essay. Johnny's Pocket. They Had no Poet and so They Died. The Blind See. In a Hundred Years. A Lesson to Lovers. Commerce. The Soldier's Reprieve. He Could Argyfy. The Battle of Naseby. Grandma at the Mas- Destruction of Pompeii. Only a Tramp. Bill Mason's Bride. The Legend of Adlernfel. Baby's Autograph. The Song of Monterey. That Awful Ghost. All in Each. A Ballad of Brave Women. The Kitten of the Regi- ment. The Old Clock on the Stair. A Camp Meeting In Unseen Yet Seen. Midsummer. The Pedagogue's Wooing. IN THE PULPIT. In the Cross of Christ I Glory. Disappointing. Manhood. Light on the Hill-Tops. The Punkln Frost. The New Pastor. Back From the War. St. Nicholas. Lost and Found. Went Into Hieroglyphics. Eternal Justice. The Dying Shoemaker. A Day of Our Country. Trouble in the "Amen Corner." Indignant Nellie. All Hands Lie Down. Monument Mountain. To Seneca Lake. The World's First Wed- ding. The Gleam in the House of Azah. Only in Dreams. The Fate of European Kings. A Turkish Tale. The Evergreen Mount- ains of Life. Expression. The Trooper. John Chinaman's Protest. The Miseries of War. Song of Marion's Men. Sockery Kadahcut's Kat. Sword and Plough. A Reminiscence of Andrew Jackson. CHOICE DIALOGUES. NO. 4 CONTAINS Important Suggestions for the Successful Presentation of Dialogues — the Stage—the Curtain — Background — Footlights — Effects — Rehearsals — Prompter — Repre- sentation — Costumes — Between the Acts — Tableaux — Pantomimes — Shadow Pantomimes — Acting Ballads — The Goblin Crew — Surprising Effects — The Talking Head or Magical Myth. Thirty Thousand Dol- lars. Humbug. Queen Vashtl. Cinderella. The Gridiron. The Yankee Marksman. The Paper Don't Say. The Chatterbox. TheCompetlng Railroads. Sleepy Hollow Horticul- tural Society. The Will. No Law-Suits In Heaven. The Just Retribution. Wedding "Before De Wah. B The Happy Family. The Female Exqulsltcr. Popping the Question. The Baffled Book-Agent. Uncle Nathan's Indian. The UnwIlllngJPatlent. The Soldier's Return. Courtship Under Diffi- culties. The Little Presbyterian Maid. The Conjugating German The Census Taker. "Awfully Lovely" Phi- losophy. Romance at Home. The Brakeman at Church. Pedantry. Rolla and Alonzo. O'Hoolohan's Mistake. Turned Him Out. The Heirs. Literary Vanity. The Indian's Revenge. "De Pervisions, Clem." "The Wlmmln's School of Felosophy." The Letter. The Train to Mauro. Katie Maloney's Phi- losophy. Auction Mad. The Debating Society. The Poet Seeking a Pa- tron. A Warning to Women. The Dandy. The Photographer. Scene from Leah the Forsaken. City vs. Country. Mrs. Sniffles" Confession. The Conundrum Family. NO. 8 CONTAINS Important Suggestions for the Successful Presentation of Dialogues — The Stage — The Curtain — Background — Footlights — Effects — Rehearsals — Prompter — Representation — Costumes — Between the Acts — Tableaux — Pantomimes — Shadow Pantomimes — Acting Ballads — The Goblin Crew — Surprising Effects — The Talking Head or Magical Myth. Puss In Boots; or, Chari- ty Rewarded. Lessons In Cookery. Lochiel's Warning. The Rival Queens. Rip Van Winkle. Mulrooney's Mistake. The Debating Club. How Michael Fagan Beauty's Queen. A Slight Mistake. The Doctor's Office. The Lost Bracelet. The Statue. All that Glitters Is not Gold. Scene from "Richelieu." The Excitement at Ket- tlevllle. Corporal Punishment. A School Girl's Troubles. Elder Snlffle's Courtship. Mrs. Malaprop and Cap- tain Absolute. Trial Scene from "Mer- chant of Venice." Advertising for a Servant. A New Year's Exercise. The Haunted Chamber. How Girls Study. The Disgusted Dutchman. Cured bis Pig. Winning a Widow. Teddy McGulre and Paddy O'Flynn. Balcony Scene from "Romeo and Juliet." The Traveler. The School for Scandal. Sandy Macdonald's Sig- nal. Pat and the Postmaster. Choice of Trades. Scene from the "Honey- moon." Floweret. The Death of Queen Elizabeth. Taking the Census. The Fire at Nolan's. An Easter Exercise. Scene from "Damon and Pythias." Watermelon Pickle. Scene from " The Lady of Lyons." Morning, Noon and Night. The Runaways. Gone with a Handsomer Man. Box and Fox. The Echo. The Flowers' Convention. Which is Right? Any of the aforementioned publications will be sent post-paid on receipt of price. EMERSON W. FENNO CHICAGO :: :: ILLINOIS