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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Vocal Expression</p> +<p> A Class-book of Voice Training and Interpretation</p> +<p>Author: Katherine Jewell Everts</p> +<p>Release Date: March 30, 2010 [eBook #31828]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VOCAL EXPRESSION***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Audrey Longhurst, Odessa Paige Turner,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + <h1>VOCAL + EXPRESSION</h1> + + <h2>A CLASS-BOOK OF VOICE<br /> + TRAINING AND INTERPRETATION</h2> + + <h3>BY</h3> + <h2>KATHERINE JEWELL EVERTS</h2> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF</p> +<p class="center">"THE SPEAKING VOICE"</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">HARPER & BROTHERS</p> +<p class="center">NEW YORK AND LONDON</p> + +<p class="center">MCMXI</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Books by</span></p> + +<p class="center">KATHERINE JEWEL EVERTS</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Vocal Expression</span> net $1.00</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The Speaking Voice</span>. Post 8vo net 1.00</p> + +<p class="center">HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK +</p> + +<p class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY HARPER & BROTHERS</p> + +<p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> + +<p class="center">PUBLISHED NOVEMBER, 1911 +</p> + + +<p> </p> + +<h2>PLAN OF THE BOOK</h2> + +<table class="toc" summary="Table of Contents"> + +<tr><th></th><th><span class="fsmcap">PAGE</span></th></tr> +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#TO_THE_PUPIL">To the Pupil</a></span></p></td> +</tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a></span></p></td> +<td class="pge"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="center"><b><big>PART I</big></b></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td><p>STUDIES IN VOCAL INTERPRETATION</p></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#PRELIMINARY_STUDY">Preliminary Study:</a></span>—To Establish a Conscious +Purpose.</p></td><td class="pge"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Discussion:</span>—The Relation of the Speaker to His +Audience.</span></p></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Material:</span>—Direct Appeal in Prose and Verse, with +Suggestive Analysis.</span></p></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Selections for Interpretation.</span></span></p></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#FIRST_STUDY">First Study:</a></span>—To Establish Vitality in Thinking.</p></td><td class="pge"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Discussion:</span>—Action of the Mind in Reading Aloud.</span></p></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Material:</span>—The Essay and Didactic Poetry, with +Suggestive Analysis.</span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Selections for Interpretation.</span></span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#SECOND_STUDY">Second Study:</a></span>—To Establish Intelligence in Feeling.</p></td><td class="pge"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Discussion:</span>—Emotional Response and Abandon.</span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Material:</span>—Lyric Poetry, with Suggestive Analysis.</span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Selections for Interpretation.</span></span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#THIRD_STUDY">Third Study:</a></span>—To Develop the Whimsical Sense.</p> +</td><td class="pge"><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Discussion:</span>—Humor and Fancy.</span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Material:</span>—Fairy Story, Fable, and Nonsense +Rhyme, with Suggestive Analysis.</span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Selections for Interpretation.</span></span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#FOURTH_STUDY">Fourth Study:</a></span>—To Develop Imaginative Vigor.</p> +</td><td class="pge"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Discussion:</span>—The Picture, the Atmosphere, the +Action.</span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Material:</span>—Short Story and Epic Poetry, with +Suggestive Analysis.</span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Selections for Interpretation.</span></span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#FIFTH_STUDY">Fifth Study:</a></span>—To Develop Dramatic Instinct.</p> +</td><td class="pge"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Discussion:</span>—Impersonation and Characterization.</span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Material:</span>—Monologue and Play, with Suggestive +Analysis.</span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Selections for Interpretation.</span></span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="center"><b><big>PART II</big></b></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>STUDIES IN VOCAL EXPRESSION</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#STUDIES_IN_VOCAL_EXPRESSION">Introductory Discussion</a></span>:—The Vocal Vocabulary.</p> +</td><td class="pge"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Study in Pause and Change of Pitch.</span></span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Study in Inflection.</span></span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">Study in Tone Color.</span></span></p> +</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td class="center"><b><big>PART III</big></b></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td>STUDIES IN VOCAL TECHNIQUE</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span class="smcap"><a href="#STUDIES_IN_VOCAL_TECHNIQUE">Introductory Discussion</a>:</span>—Tuning the Instrument.</p> +</td><td class="pge"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">How to Support the Tone.</span> +Directions and Exercises.</span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">How to Free the Tone.</span> +Directions and Exercises.</span></p></td></tr> + +<tr><td><p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="smcap">How to Re-enforce the Tone.</span> +Directions and Exercises.</span></p></td></tr> + +</table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="TO_THE_PUPIL" id="TO_THE_PUPIL"></a>TO THE PUPIL</h2> + + +<p>Let me trace the evolution which has led +to the plan of this text-book. A class in +elocution of which you are a member is given +a paragraph from <i>Modern Eloquence</i>, a bit +from an oration or address of Beecher or +Phillips or Beveridge, to study. The passage +appeals to you. You are roused by it to an +eager, new appreciation of courage, conservatism +or of the character of some national +hero. You "look" your interest. You are +asked to go to the platform. You are glad. +You want to repeat the inspired word of the +prophet. You begin confidently to voice the +words of the great orator—the words which +you had lifted alive from the page—but in +your voice they sound now formal, cold, lifeless. +You hesitate, your emotion is killed, +your thought inhibited, your eagerness gone, +your impulse dead—but you have made a +discovery. You have become conscious of +a great need, and your teacher, if she be wise, +has discovered the nature of that need. You +consult together and find three things have +failed you, and, through you, the orator you +wished to interpret. These things are your +mind, your vocabulary, and your voice. You +find that your need is threefold—it is the +need to feel intelligently and to think vitally +<i>on your feet</i>; the need to acquire a vocal +vocabulary; the need to train your instruments +of expression—voice and body.</p> + +<p>To help you and your teacher to meet +this threefold need is the wish of this +book; and the book's plan is the result of +the author's experience with her own pupils +in watching the evolution of their skill +in vocal expression, the development, along +natural lines, of their ability to speak effectively.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VOCAL_EXPRESSION" id="VOCAL_EXPRESSION"></a>VOCAL EXPRESSION</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> + + +<p>The strongest impulse of the human heart +is for self-expression. The simplest form +of expression is speech. Speech is the instinctive +use of a natural instrument, the +voice. The failure to deal justly with this +simple and natural means of expression is one +of the serious failures of our educational +system. Whether the student is to wait on +another's table or be host at his own; whether +he is to sell "goods" from one side of a counter +or buy them from the other; whether he is to +enter one of the three great professions of +law, medicine, or theology; "go on the +stage" or platform; become Minister to +France or President of the United States, it +remains precisely true that to speak effectively +will be essential to his success, and +should be as essential to his own happiness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +as it will be to that of all involved in his pursuit +of success.</p> + +<p>Yet, if we give heed at all to the question +of voice and speech, it is our last, not our first, +consideration. We still look upon the mind +as a storehouse instead of a clearing-house. +We continue to concern ourselves with its +ability to take in, not its capacity to give out. +Voice and speech are still left to shift for +themselves during the period of school life +when they should be guarded and guided as a +most essential equipment for life after school +days are over. To convert the resultant +hard, high-pitched, nasal tone which betrays +the American voice into the adequate agent +of a temperament which distinguishes the +American personality, and to help English +speech in this country to become an efficient +medium of lucid intercourse, such is the object +of this book.</p> + +<p>In an address upon the "Question of Our +Speech" delivered before a graduating class +at Bryn Mawr, several years ago, Mr. Henry +James said:</p> + +<p>"No civilized body of men and women has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +ever left so vital an interest to run wild, to +shift, as we say, all for itself, to stumble and +flounder, through mere adventure and accident, +in the common dust of life, to pick up +a living, in fine, by the wayside and the ditch.</p> + +<p>"The French, the Germans, the Italians, +the English, perhaps, in particular, and many +other people, Occidental and Oriental, I surmise, +not excluding the Turks and the +Chinese, have for the symbol of education, +of civility, a tone-standard; we alone flourish +in undisturbed and in something like sublime +unconsciousness of any such possibility."</p> + +<p>So searching an arraignment by so eminent +a scholar before an audience of so high a +degree of intelligence and culture seems to +have been necessary to command an adequate +appreciation of the condition of "Our +Speech" and to incite an adequate effort +toward reform. Since the arraignment was +made and afterward published, classes have +been organized, books written, and lectures +delivered in increasing abundance, forming +a veritable speech crusade—and the books +and the classes and the lectures have availed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +much, but the real and only "reliable +remedy" lies with the teacher in the public +and private schools and colleges of the United +States. And it is to the teacher of English +and Elocution that this <i>Class Book on Vocal +Expression</i> is offered.</p> + +<p><i>Learning to Talk</i> might have been a truer, +as it had been a simpler, title, yet the more +comprehensive phrase has justifiable significance, +and we have chosen it in the same +spirit which discards for the text-book in +Rhetoric or English Composition the inviting +title <i>Learning to Write</i>.</p> + +<p>There is a close analogy between the evolution +of vocal and the evolution of verbal expression. +The method of instruction in the +study of the less heeded subject of the +"Spoken Word" throws an interesting light +on the teaching of the more regarded question +of the "Written Word." An experience +as teacher of expression and English in a +normal school in Minnesota has influenced +the author of these pages to so large an extent +in the formulation of her own method +of study, and so in the plan of this volume,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +that it seems advisable to record it. To the +work of reading or expression to which she +was originally called two classes in composition +were added. The former teacher of +composition had bequeathed to the work as +a text-book a rhetoric which consisted of +involved theory plus one hundred and +twenty-five separate and distinct rules for +the use of words, and the teacher of expression +found, to her amazed dismay, that the +students had been required to learn these +rules, not only "by heart," but by number, +referring to them as rule six or thirty-six +or one hundred and twenty-five, according +to the demanded application.</p> + +<p>A week, possibly a fortnight, passed in +silent struggle, then the distracted teacher of +expression went to the president of the +school with these questions: "Of what avail +are one hundred and twenty-five rules for the +use of words when these children have less +than that number of words to use, and no +desire to acquire more? Could you make +teachers of these normal students by giving +a hundred and more laws for the governing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +of pupils and the imparting of the material of +knowledge, if you furnished neither pupils +nor material upon which to test the laws?" +"Certainly not!" was the restful reply of one +of the wisest of the educators I have known. +"May I lay aside the text-book and read +with these students in English for a little?" +"You may teach them to write English in +any way you can!"</p> + +<p>The next day the class in composition was +discovered eagerly reading Tennyson's <i>Holy +Grail</i>, stopping to note this felicitous phrase, +that happy choice of words, the pertinent +personnel of a sentence or paragraph. The +first examination of the term consisted in a +series of single questions, written on separate +slips of paper and laid face down on the +teacher's desk. Each student took one of +these slips which read, "Tell in your own +words the story of <i>The Coming of Arthur</i>, +the <i>Holy Grail</i>, <i>Lancelot and Elaine</i> or +<i>Guinevere</i>," as the chance of the chooser +might allot a given idyl. The experiment was +a success. The president was satisfied with +the papers in English composition. Each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +student had had "something to say" and had +said it. Each student had words at his command +little dreamed of in his vocabulary +before the meeting with the Knights of the +Round Table.</p> + +<p>The first step toward a mastery of Verbal +Expression had been successfully taken! +The consciousness of need—the need of a +vocabulary—had been awakened. The desire +to supply that need—to acquire a vocabulary—had +been aroused. A way to acquire +a vocabulary had been made manifest. +Out of such consciousness alone is born the +willingness to work upon which progress in +the mastery of any art depends. To the +teacher of expression it seemed no more advisable +now than it had seemed before, to +ask the students to learn either "by heart" +or by number the one hundred and twenty-five +rules of technique. But the great laws +governing the use of a vocabulary she now +found her students eager to study, to understand, +and to apply. She found her class +willing to enter upon the drudgery which a +mastery of technique in any art demands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>So in the teaching of Vocal Expression, he +who <i>begins</i> with rules for the use of this +change of pitch or that inflection, this pause +or that color of tone, before he has aroused in +the pupil the desire to express a vivid thought, +and so made him conscious of the need to +command subtle changes of pitch, swift contrasts +in tone and turns of inflection, will +find himself responsible for mechanical results +sadly divorced from true and natural +speech. But let the teacher of expression +begin, not with rules of technique, but with +the material for inspiration and interpretation; +let him rouse in the pupil the impulse +to express and then furnish the material and +means for study which shall enrich the vocabulary +of expression and he will find the +instruments of the art—voice and speech—growing +into the free and efficient agents of +personality they are intended by nature to be.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In March, 1906, the editor of <i>Harper's +Bazar</i> began a crusade in the interest of the +American voice and speech. Through the +issues of more than a year the magazine pub<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>lished +arraignment, admonition, and advice +on this subject. It was the privilege of the +author of this volume to contribute the last +four articles in that series. In response to +a definite demand from the readers of the +Bazar these articles were later embodied in +a little book called <i>The Speaking Voice</i>. In a +preface to this book the author confesses her +"deliberate effort to simplify and condense +the principles fundamental to all recognized +systems of vocal instruction," making them +available for those too occupied to enter upon +the more exhaustive study set forth in more +elaborate treatises. The book was not intended +for hours of class-room work in schools +or colleges, but for the spare moments of a +business or social life, and its reception in +that world was gratifying. But, to the +author's delight, the interest aroused created +a demand in the schools and colleges for a +real text-book, a book which could be put +into the hands of students in the departments +of English and expression in public and +private institutions and colleges, and especially +in normal schools. It is in response to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +that appeal that this class-book in <i>Vocal Expression</i> +is issued; and it is to the teachers +whose impelling interest and enthusiasm in +the subject justify the publication of this +volume that the author desires first to express +her grateful appreciation.</p> + +<p>To Miss Frances Nash, of the Lincoln High +School in Cleveland, for her invaluable advice +in determining the exact nature of the +need which the book must meet, and for her +assistance in choosing the material for interpretation, +my gratitude and appreciation +are especially due.</p> + +<p>To others whose influence through books +or personal instruction has made this task +possible, acknowledgment made in <i>The +Speaking Voice</i> is reiterated.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I</h2> + +<h3><a name="STUDIES_IN_VOCAL_INTERPRETATION" id="STUDIES_IN_VOCAL_INTERPRETATION"></a>STUDIES IN +VOCAL INTERPRETATION</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="PRELIMINARY_STUDY" id="PRELIMINARY_STUDY"></a>PRELIMINARY STUDY</h2> + +<h4>TO ESTABLISH A CONSCIOUS PURPOSE</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"The orator must have something in his very soul +he feels to be worth saying. He must have in his +nature that kindly sympathy that connects him with his +fellow-men and which so makes him a part of the audience +that his smile is their smile, his tear is their tear, +the throb of his heart the throb of the hearts of the +whole assembly."—<span class="smcap">Henry Ward Beecher.</span></p></div> + + +<p>We have said that whatever part in the +world's life we choose or are chosen to +take, it remains precisely true that to speak +effectively is essential to fulfilling, in the +highest sense, that function. Whether the +occupation upon which we enter be distinguished +by the title of cash-girl or counsellor +at law; dish-washer or débutante; stable-boy +or statesman; artist in the least or the +highest of art's capacities, crises will arise in +that calling which demand a command of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +effective speech. The situation may call for +a slow, quietly searching interrogation or a +swift, ringing command. The need may be +for a use of that expressive vocal form which +requires, to be efficient, the rugged or the +gracious elements of your vocabulary; the +vital or the velvet tone; the straight inflection +or the circumflex; the salient or the +slight change of pitch; the long or the short +pause. Whatever form the demand takes, +the need remains for command of the efficient +elements of tone and speech if we are to become +masters of the situation and to attain +success in our calling. How to acquire this +mastery is our problem. How to take the +first step toward acquiring that command is +the subject of this first study.</p> + +<p>Is there a student reader of these pages +who has not already faced a situation requiring +for its mastery such command? +Listen to Mr. James again:</p> + +<p>"All life, therefore, comes back to the +question of our speech, the medium through +which we communicate with each other; for +all life comes back to the question of our re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>lations +with each other. These relations are +possible, are registered, are verily constituted +by our speech, and are successful in proportion +as our speech is worthy of its human +and social function; is developed, delicate, +flexible, rich—an adequate accomplished +fact. The more we live by it, the more it +promotes and enhances life. Its quality, its +authenticity, its security, are hence supremely +important for the general multifold opportunity, +for the dignity and integrity, of our +existence."</p> + +<p>Is there one among you whose relations +with others would not have been rendered +simpler, truer, clearer at some critical moment +had your "speech been more worthy +of its great human and social function?" +Then, do you hesitate to enter upon a study +which shall make for clarified relations and +a new "dignity and integrity of existence?" +Anticipating your reply, I invite you to take +a first step in Vocal Expression. How shall +we approach the subject? How did you +begin to master any one of the activities in +which you are more or less proficient? How<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +did you learn to swim, or skate, or play the +violin? Not by standing on the shore and +gazing at the water or ice! Not by looking at +violins in shop windows! No! You began +by leaping into the water, putting on your +skates and going out on the ice; taking the +violin into your hands and drawing the bow +across the strings. But you say: "We have +taken the step which corresponds to these +in speech! We can talk!" Exactly! But +what command of the art of skating or swimming +or playing the violin would the artist in +any of these activities have achieved had he +been content to stop with the act of jumping +into the water, going out on the ice, or drawing +the bow across the violin? The question's +answer calls up an illuminating analogy. +Are not most of us in regard to our +mastery of speech in the condition of the +skater, the swimmer, the fiddler in the first +stage of those expressive acts? Are we not +floundering in the water, fallen on the ice, +or alienating the ears of our friends? "We +are so! We confess it!"—every time we +speak.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so to-day we shall offer no argument +against entering upon an <i>introductory</i> study—we +shall take our first step in the Art of Vocal +Expression. But we shall take it in a new +spirit—the spirit of an artist bent upon the +mastery of his art. If we flounder or fall, we +shall not be more content in our ignominy +than is the choking swimmer or the prostrate +skater. If we produce painful instead of +pleasing sounds with our instrument, we shall +not persist in a merciless process of tone production; +but we shall proceed to study diligently +the laws governing the control of the +instrument until we have mastered its +technique and made it an agent of harmonious +intercourse. We shall take the first +steps with a conscious purpose, the purpose +to make our speech worthy of its great social +and human function.</p> + +<p>Then in this spirit I invite you "to plunge." +I furnish as the material for your experiment +these sentences:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + + +<h4>DISCUSSION OF DIRECT APPEAL</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Do you ask me, then, what is this Puritan +principle?</p> + +<p>The Puritan principle in its essence is simply +individual freedom!—<span class="smcap">Curtis.</span></p> + +<p>Mind your own business with your absolute +will and soul, but see that it is a good business +first.—<span class="smcap">Ruskin.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Back to the bridge and show your teeth again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to the bridge and show to God your eyes!</span></div></div> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">MacKaye.<br /></span></p> + + +<p>What news, and quickly!—<span class="smcap">MacKaye.</span></p> + +<p>Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers. +Pray for powers equal to your tasks.—<span class="smcap">Phillips Brooks.</span></p> + +<p>Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home. +Is this a holiday?—<span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span></p> + +<p>And so, gentlemen, at this hour we are not +Republicans, we are not Democrats, we are +Americans!—<span class="smcap">Curtis.</span></p></div> + +<p>I shall not discuss the interpretation of +these sentences with you. I shall not interpret +them for you. Such discussion and +interpretation is your part in this study. +But you are not to discuss them with a pencil +on paper; you are to interpret them with +your voice to another mind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>Let us stop here and consider together for +a few moments this act which we call Vocal +Interpretation (which might be more simply +designated as Reading Aloud), and with +which these first studies are concerned. What +does it mean to vocally interpret a piece of +literature—a poem, a play, a bit of prose; a +paragraph, a sentence, or even a single word? +It means that you, the interpreter, must +transfer the thought contained in that word, +phrase, sentence, or paragraph from the +printed page to the mind of an auditor. It +means that you must take the thought out of +the safety vault and put it into circulation. +That is your problem, and it presents three +factors. You cannot slight any one of these +factors and expect to successfully solve your +problem. These factors are: your author's +thought, your own voice, and your auditor's +mind.</p> + +<p>We shall concern ourselves in this first +study with the last of these three factors—the +mind of the auditor, or, to put it more +definitely, your attitude toward the mind of +your auditor. We shall make this our first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +concern, not because it is more essential to +successful delivery than the other two elements +of the problem, but because failure at +this point is a fundamental failure. Such +failure involves the whole structure in ruin.</p> + +<p>Let me make this point explicit. Failure +of the speaker to direct the thought toward a +receiving mind—the mind of an auditor—results +in blurred thought, robs the voice of +all aim, and reduces the interpretation to a +meaningless recital of words. Consider the +first factor in the problem of interpretation—the +thought of the author. Take these first +two sentences:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Do you ask me, then, what is this Puritan +principle?</p> + +<p>The Puritan principle in its essence is simply +individual freedom!</p></div> + +<p>A wholly satisfying interpretation of these +lines involves a knowledge of the speech +from which they are taken, and a knowledge +of the circumstances under which it was delivered. +Complete possession of the thought, +which alone insures perfect expression, re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>quires +a grasp of the situation out of which +it was born and an appreciation of the mind +which conceived it. But with no context +and no knowledge of these conditions, and so +only an approximate appreciation of the +thought in all its fulness, the interpreter, +under the stimulus of an intent to convince +another of the truth contained in the detached +sentence, may deliver the lines convincingly! +And to carry conviction is the first and fundamental +requisite of all good delivery.</p> + +<p>So it is with the second factor in your +problem. Your voice may fail at a dozen +different points, but <i>directed</i> thought can employ +so skilfully even an inefficient instrument +that the resultant expression, while never satisfying, +may still carry conviction.</p> + +<p>But let the one who speaks these lines feel +no responsibility toward another, let him fail +to direct the idea toward another mind, and +the most complete possession of the author's +thought, plus the most perfect control of the +voice, will fail to make the interpretation convincing. +You must establish a relation with +your auditor! You must have an aim. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +must "have something to say," but you must +also have some one "to say it at." You cannot +hope to become an expert marksman by +"shooting into the air."</p> + +<p>Then once more I bid you approach the +subject of Vocal Interpretation in a new +spirit. Let your study of the thought in these +sentences hold in its initial impulse this idea: +"I have something I <i>must tell you</i>!" Try +prefacing your interpretation with some such +phrase as this: "Listen to me!" or, "I want +to tell you something."</p> + +<p>I would suggest as a preliminary exercise +that you should try "shooting at a mark" +these single words: "No!" "Yes!" "Come!" +"Go!" "Aim!" "Fire!" "Help!" "What ho!"</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Listen to me!</p> + +<p>"You will find the gayest castles in the air far +better for comfort and for use than the dungeons +that are daily dug and caverned out by grumbling, +discontented people."—<span class="smcap">Emerson.</span></p> + +<p>Let me tell you something!</p> + +<p>"Might is right, say many, and so it is. Might +is the right to bear the burdens of the weak, +to cheer the faint, to uplift the fallen, to pour +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>from one's own full store to the need of the +famishing."—<span class="smcap">Napier.</span></p> + +<p>It is the angel-aim and standard in an act that +consecrates it. He who aims for perfection in +a trifle is trying to do that trifle holily. The +trier wears the halo, and, therefore, the halo +grows as quickly round the brows of peasant as +of king.—<span class="smcap">Gannett.</span></p> + +<p>Think twice before you speak, my son; and it +will do no harm if you keep on thinking while +you speak.—<span class="smcap">Anonymous.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet friends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's love ascends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To finer and diviner ends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than man's mere thought e'er comprehends.<br /></span></div></div> +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">—Lanier.</span></p> + + + +<h4>SUGGESTIVE ANALYSIS</h4> + +<p class="center">HAMLET'S SPEECH TO THE PLAYERS</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Hamlet:</i> Speak the speech, I pray you, as I +pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue: +but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, +I had as lief the town-crier spoke 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, whirlwind of your +passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance +that may give it smoothness....</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<p>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 'twere, the mirror +up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, +scorn her own image, and the very age and body +of the time his form and pressure.</p> + +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span></p></div> + +<p>Let us consider together the problem of +vocally interpreting this speech of Hamlet's, +keeping the mind of the auditor constantly +before us, the special factor in our problem +which is the concern of this study. What is +the first point to be determined? The situation, +is it not? Remember, in our previous +discussion I have made it clear that it is not +essential <i>to our present purpose</i> that we should +know, in determining our situation, the exact +conditions under which this speech was delivered. +Neither is it essential <i>to our present +purpose</i> that we should make an exhaustive +study of the play of "Hamlet" or of the +character of the Prince of Denmark. Lest +you mistake me I must reiterate the fact that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +an interpretation of these lines, looked upon +as Hamlet's speech, would require just such +exhaustive study of context and character—study +which would lead to that complete +possession which alone insures perfect expression; +but it is legitimate at this point in +our study of vocal expression to use this text +quite apart from its context as a perfect +example of direct appeal. It is legitimate to +<i>imagine</i> a situation of our own in which this +thought could be pertinently expressed. We +must then first determine what you, the +speaker, are to represent, and the nature of +the audience you are to address. One word +in the text more than any other, perhaps, +determines these points—the word "players." +With this word as a key to a probable situation, +let us imagine that you, the one who +must "speak this speech," are a stage-director +of your own play, and that we, the +class to whom you must speak, are a company +of players (actors, as we now call them) +which is about to present your play. The +fact that this is exactly the situation in +Shakespeare's play from which this speech is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +taken is interesting, but does not affect our +attitude toward the text. But that we +should assume the state of mind which +animated the author of the <i>Mouse-trap, is</i> +vital to our problem. Hamlet was intent +upon getting an effect incalculably potent +from the delivery of the "speech" he "had +pronounced." You must imagine that you +have written not merely a play, but a play +which you intend shall have a powerful influence +upon the lives of the people who are +to hear it. Once more, then, let us determine +the exact situation. You, the author of a +moving play—you, its stage-director—have +called us, your actors, together for rehearsal. +You know just how you wish the lines of your +play delivered. It is absolutely vital to the +success of your venture that we, the actors, +should grasp your ideal of delivery and act +upon it. You must convince us that this is +the only way in which you will permit the +text to be handled. You are the orator as +Mr. Beecher has drawn him for us. You will +realize, in thinking your way through this appeal, +that, while the stage-director is address<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>ing +the whole company of players, he has +singled out from the others one who is to +deliver a particular speech from his play. It +is well to follow this idea of the situation. Include +us all, then, as a class in your chosen +cast, but single out one of us, and speak +directly at the mind of that one. Look him +straight in the eye. Direct your thought in +the main to his mind, even while your thought +reaches out and draws us all into the circle of +its enthusiasm. Now, with this attitude and +intent toward an audience, try to vocally +interpret, to <i>think aloud</i> this thought. What +is the trouble? "Speak the speech" you +say, "is a difficult combination of words +to utter"? "'Trippingly' trips up your +tongue"? "You don't understand the reference +to a 'town-crier'"?</p> + +<p>Ah, what discoveries we are making!</p> + +<p>"You feel that you should be able to illustrate +your own ideal of delivery by delivering +these directions after the very manner +you ask your players to observe"? That +might legitimately be expected of you, I +think. "But this you cannot do!" What a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +shocking confession! Yes, but how good to +have this new knowledge of your own ability, +or, in this case, disability. How appalling to +find that you cannot easily utter the simple +combination of words, "Speak the speech, I +pray you," without stumbling; that any +word, a plain, simple English word, trips your +tongue. How appalling, but how encouraging +it is! For the discovery of this fact, the +consciousness of these limitations, "constitutes +half the battle" before us. It is a +battle. But you shall be equipped to meet +it. Turn to the chapters on "Freeing the +Tone." Find the exercises for training the +tongue. Faithful practice of these exercises +(even <i>without</i> direction, but, if you are a member +of the class in expression for which this +book was made, <i>under</i> direction) will very +shortly conquer the unruly tongue for use in +uttering any difficult combination of words. +And your teacher will patiently "pick you up" +(<i>in this first study</i>) every time you trip over +a word or phrase, and she will patiently refer +you to the corner of history which will explain +any unfamiliar portions of your text<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +if <i>you</i> will persistently try to do <i>your</i> part +at this point. That part is, to think the +thought before you directly at another's +mind. That is all we ask at this point. +Make this direct appeal for simplicity in delivery +straight to the mind of him whom you +have chosen to receive, and act upon it. +Talk to me if I am your chosen player! Convince +me! Make me realize what you expect +of me! Make me want to meet your expectation! +Make me afraid to fail you!</p> + +<p>With these suggestions and this direct appeal +to you, I leave you with your teacher +and with the following material chosen for +your preliminary study in <i>Vocal Interpretation</i>.</p> + + +<h4>SELECTIONS FOR INTERPRETATION</h4> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>There was once a noble ship full of eager passengers, +straining at full speed from England to +America. Two-thirds of a prosperous voyage +thus far were over, and in our mess we were beginning +to talk of home.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a dense fog came, shrouding the +horizon, but, as this was a common occurrence in +the latitude we were sailing, it was hardly mentioned +in our talk. A happier company never +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>sailed upon an autumn sea. When a quick cry +from the lookout, a rush of officers and men, and +we were grinding on a ledge of rocks off +Cape Race. I heard the cry, "Every one on +deck!" and knew what that meant—the masts +were in danger of falling. A hundred pallid +faces were huddled together near the stern +of the ship where we were told to go and +wait.</p> + +<p>Suddenly we heard a voice up in the fog in the +direction of the wheel-house ringing like a clarion +above the roar of the waves. As the orders +came distinctly and deliberately through the +captain's trumpet to "Shift the cargo," to +"Back her," to "Keep her steady," we felt, +somehow, that the commander up there in the +thick mist knew what he was about.</p> + +<p>When, after weary days of anxious suspense, +the vessel leaking badly, we arrived safely in +Halifax, old Mr. Cunard, agent of the line, on +hearing from the mail officer that the steamer +had struck on the rocks and been saved by the +captain's presence of mind and courage, replied, +simply: "Just what I might have expected. +Captain Harrison is always master of the +situation."</p> + +<p>No man ever became master of the situation +by accident or indolence. "He happened to +succeed" is a foolish, unmeaning phrase. No +man happens to succeed. "What do you mix +your paints with?" asked a visitor of Opie, the +painter. "With brains, sir," was the artist's +reply. * * *</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> +<p>There are men who fail of mastery in the world +from too low an estimate of human nature. +"Despise nothing, my son," was the advice a +mother gave to her boy when he went forth into +the untried world to seek his fortune, and that +boy grew up into Sir Walter Scott. * * *</p> + +<p>In case of great emergency it took a certain +general in our army several days to get his +personal baggage ready. Sheridan rode into +Winchester without even a change of stockings +in his saddle-bags. * * *</p> + +<p>All great leaders have been inspired with a +great belief. In nine cases out of ten, failure is +borne of unbelief.—<i>Masters of the Situation</i>, +<span class="smcap">James T. Fields</span>.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or close the wall up with our English dead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As modest stillness and humility;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the blast of war blows in our ears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then imitate the action of the tiger:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage: * * *<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his full height! On, on, you noblest English,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have in these parts from morn till even fought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sheathed their swords for lack of argument. * * *<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Follow your spirit; and, upon this charge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cry—God for Harry! England! and St. George!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">—<i>Henry V.</i>, <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span></p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers +brought forth, on this continent, a new nation, +conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition +that all men are created equal. Now we +are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether +that nation, or any nation so conceived and so +dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a +great battlefield of that war. We have come to +dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting-place +for those who here gave their lives that +that nation might live. It is altogether fitting +and proper that we should do this.</p> + +<p>But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate—we +cannot consecrate—we cannot hallow—this +ground. The brave men, living and dead, who +struggled here have consecrated it, far above +our power to add or detract. The world will +little note nor long remember what we say here, +but it can never forget what they did here. It +is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here +to the unfinished work which they who fought +here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is +rather for us to be here dedicated to the great +task remaining before us—that from these honored +dead we take increased devotion to that +cause for which they gave the last full measure +of devotion—that we here highly resolve that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>these dead shall not have died in vain—that this +nation, under God, shall have a new birth of +freedom—and that government of the people, +by the people, for the people, shall not perish +from the earth.—<i>Address at Gettysburg</i>, <span class="smcap">Abraham +Lincoln</span>.</p></div> + +<p>From an address delivered in the Auditorium, at +Chicago, on the afternoon of February 22, 1902, +on the occasion of the celebration of Washington's +Birthday.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The meaning of Washington in American history +is discipline. The message of Washington's +life to the American people is discipline. The +need of American character is discipline.</p> + +<p>Washington did not give patriotism to the +American colonies. The people had that as +abundantly as he. He did not give them courage. +That quality was and is in the American +blood. He did not even give them resource. +There were intellects more productive than his. +But Washington gave balance and direction to +elemental forces. He was the genius of order. +He was poise personified. He was the spirit of +discipline. He was the first Great Conservative. +It was this quality in him that made all other +elements of the Revolution effective. It was +this that organized our nebulous independence +into a nation of liberty. The parts of a machine +are useless until assembled and fitted each to its +appropriate place. Washington was the master +mechanic of our nation; so it is that we are a people.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>But we are not yet a perfect people. We are +still in the making. It is a glorious circumstance. +Youth is the noblest of God's gifts. The youth of +a nation is like the youth of a man. The American +people are young? Yes! Vital? Yes! Powerful? +Yes! Disciplined? Not entirely. Moderate? +Not yet, but growing in that grace. And +therefore on this, his day, I bear you the message +of Washington—he, whose sanity, orderliness, +and calm have reached through the century, +steadying us, overcoming in us the untamed passions +of riotous youth.—<i>Conservatism; the Spirit +of National Self-Restraint</i>, <span class="smcap">Albert Beveridge</span>.</p></div> + +<p>We have noted in our introduction the +close analogy which exists between the evolution +of vocal expression and the evolution of +verbal expression. Let us not fail to follow +this analogy through the various studies +which make up this one study of interpretation. +We have begun our work in vocal +expression with the subject of direct appeal. +What corresponds to this step in the evolution +of verbal expression?</p> + +<p>Mr. J. H. Gardiner, in his illuminating +text for the student of English composition, +called <i>The Forms of Prose Literature</i>,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>discusses these forms first under the two +great heads of the "Literature of Thought" +and the "Literature of Feeling," and then +under the four sub-titles which all instruction +in rhetoric recognizes as the accepted divisions +of literature: Exposition, Argument, +Description, and Narrative. We do not find +the <i>exact</i> parallel for our study in direct +appeal under these subheads. Do we? No. +In order "to take the plunge" in the study +of English composition which shall correspond +to our preliminary effort in interpretation, +we must set aside for the moment the +question of <i>exposition</i>, to be entered upon as +a "first study" in verbal expression corresponding +to the question of <i>vitality in thinking</i>, +which is our first study in vocal expression, +and look for a parallel "preliminary +study" in composition.</p> + +<p>In his comparative study of exposition and +argumentation Mr. Gardiner says: "An exceedingly +good explanation may leave its +reader quite unmoved: a good argument +never does. Even if it does not convert him, +it should at least make him uncomfortable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +Now, when we say that argument must move +its reader, we begin to pass from the realm +of pure thought, in which exposition takes +rise, to that of feeling, for feeling is a necessary +preliminary to action. How large a +part feelings play in argument you can see if +you have ever heard the speech of a demagogue +to an excited crowd. It is simply a +crass appeal to their lower passions, aided by +all the devices of oratory, often, perhaps, also +by a moving presence. A better example is +Henry Ward Beecher's Liverpool speech, in +which he won a hearing from a hostile mob +by an appeal to their sense of fair play. Such +cases show how far argument may get from +the simple appeal to the understanding, how +little it may be confined to the element of +thought. The prime quality, therefore, of +argument is <i>persuasiveness</i>."</p> + +<p>Not argument, then, but the element in +argument, called persuasion, furnishes the +study in composition which corresponds to +direct appeal in interpretation. And just +as truly as your intent to convince another +mind of the truth of your author's thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +will often take care of all other elements in +the problem of its vocal expression and result +in <i>convincing interpretation</i>, so the intent to +persuade another mind of the truth of your +own thought will often take care of all other +elements in the problem of verbal expression +and result in <i>moving composition</i>.</p> + +<p>Following Mr. Gardiner a little further in +his discussion of persuasion, we find our study +in interpretation in direct accord with his +advice in the study of composition, for he +says: "This element of persuasion belongs to +that aspect of literature which has to do with +the feelings; and, as depending on the personal +equation of the writer, it is much less +easy than the intellectual element to catch +and generalize from, and almost impossible to +teach. All that I can do is to examine it in +good examples, and then make very tentatively +a few suggestions based on these examples. +For it cannot too often be written +down in such a treatise as this that the +teacher of writing can no more make a great +writer than the teacher of painting can turn +out a new Rembrandt or a Millet; in either<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +case the most that the teacher can do is to +furnish honest and illuminating criticism, and +to save his pupil unnecessary and tedious +steps by showing him the methods and devices +which have been worked out by the +masters of the craft."</p> + +<p>In treating the question of pure style, as +another division of the power of persuasion, +Mr. Gardiner says: "It is almost impossible +to give practical help toward acquiring this +gift of an expressive style; the ear for the +rhythm and assonance of style is like an ear for +music, though more common, perhaps. It is +good practice to read aloud the writing of +men who are famous for the quality, and, +when you read to yourself, always to have in +mind the sound of what you read. The more +you can give yourself of this exercise, the +more when you write, yourself, will you hear +the way your own style sounds."</p> + +<p>With our idea for a combined study of the +two great forms of expression reinforced by +such authority, let us, in taking our next +step in this preliminary study in vocal expression, +make it also a preliminary study in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +verbal expression by using as our next selection +for interpretation, not a fragment of an +address or a part of an oration, but a complete +example of persuasive discourse. Such +an example we find in this sermon of Mr. +Gannett's "Blessed be Drudgery." And, as +we try our growing powers of lucid interpretation +upon this subject-matter, let us stop +to note its verbal construction and its obedience +to the laws of persuasive discourse. +The interpretation must be made in the class-room, +because interpretation needs an immediate +audience; the analysis of the literary +form may be made in your study: the two +processes should be carried on as far as +possible together.</p> + + +<p class="center">BLESSED BE DRUDGERY<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p class="center">I</p> + +<p>Of every two men probably one man thinks +he is a drudge, and every second woman is +<i>sure</i> she is. Either we are not doing the thing +we would like to do in life; or, in what we do +and like, we find so much to dislike that the +rut tires even when the road runs on the whole, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>a pleasant way. I am going to speak of the +<i>Culture that comes through this very drudgery</i>.</p> + +<p>"Culture through my drudgery!" some one is +now thinking: "This treadmill that has worn +me out, this grind I hate, this plod that, as +long ago as I remember it, seemed tiresome—to +this have I owed 'culture'? Keeping house +or keeping accounts, tending babies, teaching +primary school, weighing sugar and salt at a +counter, those blue overalls in the machine +shop—have these anything to do with 'culture'? +Culture takes leisure, elegance, wide margins +of time, a pocket-book; drudgery means +limitations, coarseness, crowded hours, chronic +worry, old clothes, black hands, headaches. +Culture implies college: life allows a daily paper, +a monthly magazine, the circulating library, +and two gift-books at Christmas. Our real and +our ideal are not twins—never were! I want +the books,—but the clothes-basket wants me. +The two children are good,—and so would be +two hours a day without the children. I crave +an outdoor life,—and walk down-town of mornings +to perch on a high stool till supper-time. I +love Nature,—and figures are my fate. My taste +is books,—and I farm it. My taste is art,—and +I correct exercises. My taste is science,—and I +measure tape. I am young and like stir,—the +business jogs on like a stage-coach. Or I am <i>not</i> +young, I am getting gray over my ears, and like +to sit down and be still,—but the drive of the +business keeps both tired arms stretched out full +length. I hate this overbidding and this under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>selling, +this spry, unceasing competition, and +would willingly give up a quarter of my profits +to have two hours of my daylight to myself,—at +least I would if, working just as I do, I did not +barely get the children bread and clothes. I +did not choose my calling, but was dropped into +it—by my innocent conceit, or by duty to the +family, or by a parent's foolish pride, or by our +hasty marriage; or a mere accident wedged me +into it. Would I could have my life over again! +Then, whatever I <i>should</i> be, at least I would <i>not</i> +be what I am to-day!"</p> + +<p>Have I spoken truly for any one here? I +know I have. Goes not the grumble thus within +the silent breast of many a person, whose pluck +never lets it escape to words like these, save +now and then on a tired evening to husband or +to wife?</p> + +<p>There is often truth and justice in the grumble. +Truth and justice both. Still, when the question +rises through the grumble, Can it be that +drudgery, not to be escaped, gives "culture"? +the true answer is—Yes, and culture of the +prime elements of life; of the very fundamentals +of all fine manhood and fine womanhood.</p> + +<p>Our <i>prime</i> elements are due to our drudgery—I +mean that literally; the <i>fundamentals</i> that +underlie all fineness and without which no other +culture worth the winning is even possible. +These, for instance—and what names are more +familiar? Power of attention; power of industry; +promptitude in beginning work; method +and accuracy and despatch in doing work; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>perseverance; courage before difficulties; cheer +under straining burdens; self-control and self-denial +and temperance. These are the prime +qualities; these the fundamentals. We have +heard these names before! When we were +small mother had a way of harping on them, +and father joined in emphatically, and the +minister used to refer to them in church. And +this was what our first employer meant—only +his way of putting the matter was, "Look sharp, +my boy!"—"Be on time, John!"—"Stick to it!" +Yes, that is just what they all meant: these <i>are</i> +the very qualities which the mothers tried to +tuck into us when they tucked us into bed, the +very qualities which the ministers pack into +their platitudes, and which the nations pack +into their proverbs. And that goes to <i>show</i> that +they are the fundamentals. Reading, writing, +and arithmetic are very handy, but these fundamentals +of a man are handier to have; worth +more; worth more than Latin and Greek and +French and German and music and art-history +and painting and wax flowers and travels in +Europe added together. These last are the +decorations of a man or woman: even reading +and writing are but conveniences: those other +things are the <i>indispensables</i>. They make one's +sit-fast strength and one's active momentum, +whatsoever and wheresoever the lot in life be—be +it wealth or poverty, city or country, library +or workshop. Those qualities make the solid +substance of one's self.</p> + +<p>And the question I would ask of myself and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>you is, How do we get them? How do they +become ours? High-school and college can give +much, but these are never on their programmes. +All the book processes that we go to the schools +for, and commonly call "our education," give +no more than <i>opportunity</i> to win these indispensables +of education. How, then, do we get +them? We get them somewhat as the fields and +valleys get their grace. Whence is it that the +lines of river and meadow and hill and lake and +shore conspire to-day to make the landscape +beautiful? Only by long chiselings and steady +pressures. Only by ages of glacier crush and +grind, by scour of floods, by centuries of storm +and sun. These rounded the hills, and scooped +the valley-curves, and mellowed the soil for +meadow-grace. There was little grace in the +operation, had we been there to watch. It was +"drudgery" all over the land. Mother Nature +was down on her knees doing her early scrubbing +work! That was yesterday: to-day, result +of scrubbing-work, we have the laughing landscape.</p> + +<p>Now what is true of the earth is true of each +man and woman on the earth. Father and +mother and the ancestors before them have +done much to bequeath those elemental qualities +to us; but that which scrubs them into us, the +clinch which makes them actually ours, and +keeps them ours, and adds to them as the years +go by—that depends on our own plod, our plod +in the rut, our drill of habit; in one word, depends +upon our "drudgery." It is because we +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>have to go, and <i>go</i>, morning after morning, +through rain, through shine, through toothache, +headache, heartache, to the appointed spot, and +do the appointed work; because, and only because, +we have to stick to that work through the +eight or ten hours, long after rest would be so +sweet; because the school-boy's lesson must be +learned at nine o'clock and learned without a +slip; because the accounts on the ledger must +square to a cent; because the goods must tally +exactly with the invoice; because good temper +must be kept with children, customers, neighbors, +not seven, but seventy times seven times; +because the besetting sin must be watched to-day, +to-morrow, and the next day; in short, +without much matter <i>what</i> our work be, whether +this or that, it is because, and only because, of +the rut, plod, grind, humdrum <i>in</i> the work, that +we at last get those self-foundations laid of which +I spoke,—attention, promptness, accuracy, firmness, +patience, self-denial, and the rest. When +I think over that list and seriously ask myself +three questions, I have to answer each with <i>No</i>:—Are +there any qualities in the list which I can +afford to spare, to go without, as mere show-qualities? +Not one. Can I get these self-foundations +laid, save by the weight, year in, +year out, of the steady pressures? No, there is +no other way. Is there a single one in the list +which I cannot get in some degree by undergoing +the steady drills and pressures? No, not one. +Then beyond all books, beyond all class-work at +the school, beyond all special opportunities of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +what I call my "education," it is this drill and +pressure of my daily task that is my great school-master. +<i>My daily task</i>, whatever it be—<i>that is +what mainly educates me</i>. All other culture is +mere luxury compared with what that gives. +That gives the indispensables. Yet fool that I +am, this pressure of my daily task is the very +thing that I so growl at as my "drudgery"!</p> + +<p>We can add right here this fact, and practically +it is a very important fact to girls and +boys as ambitious as they ought to be,—-the +higher our ideals, the <i>more</i> we need those foundation +habits strong. The street-cleaner can +better afford to drink and laze than he who +would make good shoes; and to make good shoes +takes less force of character and brain than to +make cures in the sick-room, or laws in the +legislature, or children in the nursery. The man +who makes the head of a pin or the split of a +pen all day long, and the man who must put +fresh thought into his work at every stroke,—which +of the two more needs the self-control, the +method, the accuracy, the power of attention +and concentration? Do you sigh for books and +leisure and wealth? It takes more "concentration" +to use books—head tools—well than to +use hand tools. It takes more "self-control" +to use leisure well than workdays. Compare the +Sundays and Mondays of your city; which day, +all things considered, stands for the city's higher +life,—the day on which so many men are lolling, +or the day on which all toil? It takes more +knowledge, more integrity, more justice, to han<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>dle +riches well than to bear the healthy pinch +of the just-enough.</p> + +<p>Do you think that the great and famous escape +drudgery? The native power and temperament, +the outfit and capital at birth, counts +for much, but it convicts us common minds of +huge mistake to hear the uniform testimony of +the more successful geniuses about their genius. +"Genius is patience," said who? Sir Isaac +Newton. "The Prime Minister's secret is patience," +said who? Mr. Pitt, the great Prime +Minister of England. Who, think you, wrote, +"My imagination would never have served me +as it has, but for the habit of commonplace, +humble, patient, daily, toiling, drudging attention"? +It was Charles Dickens. Who said +"The secret of a Wall Street million is common +honesty"? Vanderbilt; and he added as the +recipe for a million (I know somebody would +like to learn it), "Never use what is not your +own, never buy what you cannot pay for, never +sell what you haven't got." How simple great +men's rules are! How easy it is to be a great +man! Order, diligence, patience, honesty,—just +what you and I must use in order to put our +dollar in the savings-bank, to do our school-boy +sum, to keep the farm thrifty, and the house +clean, and the babies neat. Order, diligence, +patience, honesty! There is wide difference between +men, but truly it lies less in some special +gift or opportunity granted to one and withheld +from another, than in the differing degree in +which these common elements of human power<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +are owned and used. Not how much talent have +I, but how much will to use the talent that I +have, is the main question. Not how much do +I know, but how much do I do with what I +know? To do their great work the great ones +need more of the very same habits which the +little ones need to do their smaller work. Goethe, +Spencer, Agassiz, Jesus, share, not achievements, +but conditions of achievement, with you and me. +And those conditions for them, as for us, are +largely the plod, the drill, the long disciplines of +toil. If we ask such men their secret, they will +uniformly tell us so.</p> + +<p>Since we lay the firm substrata of ourselves +in this way, then, and only in this way; and since +the higher we aim, the more, and not the less, +we need these firm substrata,—since this is so, +I think we ought to make up our minds and our +mouths to sing a hallelujah unto Drudgery: +<i>Blessed be Drudgery</i>,—the one thing that we cannot +spare!</p> + +<p class="center">II</p> + +<p>But there is something else to be said. Among +the people who are drudges there are some who +have given up their dreams of what, when +younger, they used to talk or think about as +their "ideals"; and have grown at last, if not +content, resigned to do the actual work before +them. Yes, here it is,—before us, and behind +us, and on all sides of us; we cannot change it; +we have accepted it. Still, we have not given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +up one dream,—the dream of <i>success</i> in this +work to which we are <i>so</i> clamped. If we cannot +win the well-beloved one, then success with the +ill-beloved,—this at least is left to hope for. +Success may make <i>it</i> well-beloved, too,—who +knows? Well, the secret of this success still lies +in the same old word, "drudgery." For +drudgery is the doing of one thing, one thing, +one thing, long after it ceases to be amusing; and +it is this "one thing I do" that gathers me together +from my chaos, that concentrates me +from possibilities to powers, and turns powers +into achievements. "One thing I do," said +Paul, and, apart from what his one thing was, +in that phrase he gave the watchword of salvation. +That whole long string of habits—attention, +method, patience, self-control, and the +others—can be rolled up and balled, as it were, +in the word "concentration." We will halt a +moment at the word:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I give you the end of a golden string:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Only wind it into a ball,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It will lead you in at Heaven's gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Built in Jerusalem's wall."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Men may be divided into two classes,—those +who have a "one thing," and those who have +no "one thing," to do; those with aim, and +those without aim, in their lives: and practically +it turns out that almost all of the success, +and, therefore, the greater part of the happiness, +go to the first class. The aim in life is what the +backbone is in the body: without it we are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +invertebrate, belong to some lower order of +being not yet man. No wonder that the great +question, therefore, with a young man is, What +am I to be? and that the future looks rather +gloomy until the life-path opens. The lot of +many a girl, especially of many a girl with a +rich father, is a tragedy of aimlessness. Social +standards, and her lack of true ideals and of real +education, have condemned her to be frittered: +from twelve years old she is a cripple to be +pitied, and by thirty she comes to know it. +With the brothers the blame is more their own. +The boys we used to play our school games with +have found their places; they are winning +homes and influence and money, their natures +are growing strong and shapely, and their days +are filling with the happy sense of accomplishment,—while +<i>we</i> do not yet know what we are. +We have no meaning on the earth. Lose us, +and the earth has lost nothing; no niche is +empty, no force has ceased to play, for we have +got no aim, and therefore we are still—nobody. +<i>Get your meaning</i> first of all! Ask the question +until it is answered past question, What am I? +What do I stand for? What name do I bear in +the register of forces? In our national cemeteries +there are rows on rows of unknown bodies +of our soldiers,—men who did a work and put a +meaning to their lives; for the mother and the +townsmen say, "He died in the war." But the +men and women whose lives are aimless reverse +their fates. Our <i>bodies</i> are known, and answer +in this world to such or such a name,—but as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +to our inner <i>selves</i>, with real and awful meaning +our walking bodies might be labeled, "An unknown +man sleeps here!"</p> + +<p>Now, since it is concentration that prevents +this tragedy of failure, and since this concentration +always involves drudgery, long, hard, +abundant, we have to own again, I think, that +that is even more than what I called it first,—our +chief school-master; besides that, drudgery +is the gray Angel of Success. The main secret +of any success we may hope to rejoice in is in +that angel's keeping. Look at the leaders in the +profession, the "solid" men in business, the +master-workmen who begin as poor boys and +end by building a town in which to house their +factory hands; they are drudges of the single +aim. The man of science, and to-day more than +ever, if he would add to the world's knowledge, +or even get a reputation, must be, in some one +branch at least, a plodding specialist. The great +inventors, Palissy at his pots, Goodyear at his +rubber, Elias Howe at his sewing-machine, tell +the secret,—"One thing I do." The reformer's +secret is the same. A one-eyed, grim-jawed folk +the reformers are apt to be: one-eyed, grim-jawed, +seeing but the one thing, never letting go, +they have to be, to start a torpid nation. All +these men as doers of the single thing drudge +their way to their success. Even so must we, +would we win ours. The foot-loose man is <i>not</i> +the enviable man. A wise man will be his own +necessity and bind himself to a task, if by early +wealth or foolish parents or other lowering ci<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>rcumstances +he has lost the help of an outward +necessity.</p> + +<p>Again, then, I say, Let us sing a hallelujah +and make a fresh beatitude: <i>Blessed be Drudgery!</i> +It is the one thing we cannot spare.</p> + +<p class="center">III</p> + +<p>This is a hard gospel, is it not? But now +there is a pleasanter word to briefly say. To +lay the firm foundations in ourselves, or even +to win success in life, we <i>must</i> be drudges. But +we <i>can</i> be <i>artists</i>, also, in our daily task. And +at that word things brighten.</p> + +<p>"Artists," I say,—not artisans. "The difference?" +This: the artist is he who strives to perfect +his work,—the artisan strives to get through +it. The artist would fain finish, too; but with +him it is to "finish the work God has given me +to do!" It is not how great a thing we do, but +how well we do the thing we have to, that puts +us in the noble brotherhood of artists. My Real +is not my Ideal,—is that my complaint? One +thing, at least, is in my power: if I cannot +realize my Ideal, I can at least <i>idealize my Real</i>. +How? By trying to be perfect in it. If I am +but a rain-drop in a shower, I will be, at least, +a perfect drop; if but a leaf in a whole June, I +will be, at least, a perfect leaf. This poor "one +thing I do,"—instead of repining at its lowness +or its hardness, I will make it glorious by my +supreme loyalty to its demand.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> +<p>An artist himself shall speak. It was Michael +Angelo who said: "Nothing makes the soul so +pure, so religious, as the endeavor to create +something perfect; for God is perfection, and +whoever strives for it strives for something that +is godlike. True painting is only an image of +God's perfection,—a shadow of the pencil with +which he paints, a melody, a striving after harmony." +The great masters in music, the great +masters in all that we call artistry, would echo +Michael Angelo in this; he speaks the artist essence +out. But what holds good upon their grand +scale and with those whose names are known, +holds equally good of all pursuits and all lives. +That true painting is an image of God's perfection +must be true, if he says so; but no more +true of painting than of shoemaking, of Michael +Angelo than of John Pounds, the cobbler. I +asked a cobbler once how long it took to become +a good shoemaker; he answered, promptly, +"Six years,—and then you must travel!" That +cobbler had the artist soul. I told a friend the +story, and he asked his cobbler the same question: +How long does it take to become a good +shoemaker? "All your life, sir." That was +still better,—a Michael Angelo of shoes! Mr. Maydole, +the hammer-maker, of central New York, +was an artist: "Yes," said he to Mr. Parton, +"I have made hammers here for twenty-eight +years." "Well, then, you ought to be able to +make a pretty good hammer by this time." +"No, sir," was the answer, "I <i>never</i> made a pretty +good hammer. I make the best hammer made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +in the United States." Daniel Morell, once +president of the Cambria Railworks in Pittsburgh, +which employed seven thousand men, was +an artist, and trained artists. "What is the +secret of such a development of business as +this?" asked the visitor. "We have no secret," +was the answer; "we always try to beat our +last batch of rails. That's all the secret we have, +and we don't care who knows it." The Paris +bookbinder was an artist, who, when the rare +volume of Corneille, discovered in a book-stall, +was brought to him, and he was asked how +long it would take him to bind it, answered, +"Oh, sir, you must give me a year, at least; +<i>this</i> needs all my care." Our Ben Franklin +showed the artist when he began his own epitaph, +"Benjamin Franklin, printer." And Professor +Agassiz, when he told the interviewer that he +had "no time to make money"; and when he +began his will, "I, Louis Agassiz, teacher."</p> + +<p>In one of Murillo's pictures in the Louvre he +shows us the interior of a convent kitchen; but +doing the work there are, not mortals in old +dresses, but beautiful white-winged angels. One +serenely puts the kettle on the fire to boil, and +one is lifting up a pail of water with heavenly +grace, and one is at the kitchen dresser reaching +up for plates; and I believe there is a little +cherub running about and getting in the way, +trying to help. What the old monkish legend +that it represented is, I hardly know. But, as +the painter puts it to you on his canvas, all are +so busy, and working with such a will, and so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +refining the work as they do it, that somehow +you forget that pans are pans and pots pots, and +only think of the angels, and how very natural +and beautiful kitchen-work is,—just what the +angels would do, of course.</p> + +<p>It is the angel-aim and standard in an act that +consecrates it. He who aims for perfectness +in a trifle is trying to do that trifle holily. The +<i>trier</i> wears the halo, and therefore, the halo +grows as quickly round the brows of peasant as +of king. This aspiration to do perfectly,—is it +not religion practicalized? If we use the name +of God, is this not God's presence becoming +actor in us? No need, then, of being "great" +to share that aspiration and that presence. +The smallest roadside pool has its water from +heaven, and its gleam from the sun, and can hold +the stars in its bosom, as well as the great ocean. +Even so the humblest man or woman can live +splendidly! That is the royal truth that we +need to believe,—you and I who have no "mission," +and no great sphere to move in. The +universe is not quite complete without <i>my</i> work +well done. Have you ever read George Eliot's +poem called "Stradivarius"? Stradivarius was +the famous old violin-maker, whose violins, +nearly two centuries old, are almost worth +their weight in gold to-day. Says Stradivarius +in the poem:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">"If my hand slacked,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should rob God,—since He is the fullest good,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaving a blank instead of violins.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He</i> could not make Antonio Stradivari's violins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without Antonio."<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> +<p>That is just as true of us as of our greatest +brothers. What, stand with slackened hands +and fallen heart before the littleness of your +service! Too little, is it, to be perfect in it? +Would you, then, if you were Master, risk a +greater treasure in the hands of such a man? +Oh, there is no man, no woman, so small that +they cannot make their life great by high endeavor; +no sick crippled child on its bed that +cannot fill a niche of service <i>that</i> way in the +world. This is the beginning of all gospels,—that +the kingdom of heaven is at hand just +where <i>we</i> are. It is just as near us as our work +is, for the gate of heaven for each soul lies in the +endeavor to do that work perfectly.</p> + +<p>But to bend this talk back to the word with +which we started: will this striving for perfection +in the little thing give "culture"? Have +you ever watched such striving in operation? +Have you never met humble men and women +who read little, who knew little, yet who had +a certain fascination as of fineness lurking about +them? Know them, and you are likely to find +them persons who have put so much thought +and honesty and conscientious trying into their +common work—it may be sweeping rooms, or +planing boards, or painting walls—have put +their ideals so long, so constantly, so lovingly +into that common work of theirs, that finally +these qualities have come to permeate not their +work only, but so much of their being that they +are fine-fibred within, even if on the outside +the rough bark clings. Without being schooled,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +they are apt to instinctively detect a sham,—one +test of culture. Without haunting the drawing-rooms, +they are likely to have manners of quaint +grace and graciousness,—another test of culture. +Without the singing-lessons, their tones are apt +to be gentle,—another test of culture. Without +knowing anything about Art, so called, they +know and love the best in <i>one</i> thing,—are artists +in their own little specialty of work. They +make good company, these men and women,—why? +Because, not having been able to realize +their Ideal, they have idealized their Real, and +thus in the depths of their nature have won true +"culture."</p> + +<p>You know all beatitudes are based on something +hard to do or to be. "Blessed are the +meek": is it easy to be meek? "Blessed are the +pure in heart": is that so very easy? "Blessed +are they who mourn." "Blessed are they who +hunger and thirst—who <i>starve</i>—after righteousness." +So this new beatitude by its hardness +only falls into line with all the rest. A third +time and heartily I say it,—"Blessed be Drudgery!" +For thrice it blesses us: it gives us the +fundamental qualities of manhood and womanhood; +it gives us success in the thing we have to +do; and it makes us, if we choose, artists,—artists +within, whatever our outward work may +be. <i>Blessed be Drudgery</i>,—the secret of all +culture!</p></div> + +<p>And now, as a final step in this preliminary +study, a step which shall again give practice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +in both forms of expression, you are to choose +from your vital interests one concerning +which you hold intense convictions. First +you are to set forth these convictions in the +strongest piece of persuasive prose you can +command: this is work for your study. +Second, you are to summon all your vocal +resources, and, with the one idea of persuading +us of the truth of your convictions, +make to us for them a direct appeal: this +work is for the class-room. So shall we have +combined the preliminary study in vocal +expression of <i>direct appeal</i> with the preliminary +study in verbal expression of +<i>persuasion</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FIRST_STUDY" id="FIRST_STUDY"></a>FIRST STUDY</h2> + +<h4>TO ESTABLISH VITALITY IN THINKING</h4> + + +<p>Among the axioms of our subject-matter +already formulated stands this one: reading +aloud is thinking aloud. If reading aloud +is thinking aloud the quality of the reading +will depend, of course, upon the quality of the +thinking. But while clear thinking does not +assure lucid reading (since there are other +elements in the problem), the converse is +true, that good reading implies clear thinking. +For it is impossible to read convincingly unless +one is thinking vitally, which brings us +to the object of this study: <i>To Establish +Vitality in Thinking.</i></p> + +<p>Do you know what it means to think +vitally in reading? It means a concentration +of your mind upon the thought before you +until you, yourself, seem to be thinking that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +thought for the first time,—until you seem +to be bringing forth a thought of your own +conception instead of rethinking the conception +of another's mind. Is this a familiar +experience? It must become one if you are +to become a true interpreter. For the true +interpreter is first of all the keen thinker.</p> + +<p>We do not say of the great actor, after a +performance of Hamlet, "He played Hamlet +wonderfully!" We say, rather, "He was +Hamlet." The great actor creates the part +he plays each time he plays it. He creates +the part by living the part. Even in the +same way the great interpreter creates the +thought he voices through a concentration of +mind which appropriates the thought and +makes it his own to voice.</p> + +<p>We have said that the greatest need of the +human heart is for self-expression. To satisfy +the heart that act of expression must be +a creative act. True interpretation is creative +expression. The fundamental step toward +creative expression is complete possession +of the thought to be expressed. Complete +possession depends upon your power to con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>centrate +your mind upon a thought until it is +your own. The first step in interpretation +is to establish vitality in thinking.</p> + +<p>The new arithmetic trains the mind to see +the relation behind the mathematical statement +of the relation. The child who "says +his tables" to-day is not repeating by rote +words and figures, he is realizing vital relations, +he is developing a sense of proportion, +he is learning to think vitally. The old +method in arithmetic left the statement +"two times one is two" a cold mathematical +fact; the new method makes it a key to living +relations. One in the "tables" of the +child in mathematics to-day stands for a +definite object, and the statement "two times +one is two" is an interesting and significant +fact. The statement through imaginative +thinking, which is vital thinking, may be +invested with personal significance and become +a personally interesting fact. Try it! +Say your "tables of one" up to ten times one +is ten, <i>thinking vitally</i>, which means getting +behind the statement of the relation to the +relation itself, behind the sign to the thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +signified. Let your "one" stand each time +for something you desire—as a small boy +might desire pieces of candy, or a miser +"pieces of eight"; now think vitally in this +way and say, "Ten times one is ten!" What +has happened to the mathematical fact? It +has become a living expression!</p> + +<p>This might be called <i>interpreting</i> our +mathematics. Why not? That is the surest +way to master them! It is the surest way to +mastery of any subject, of any art, of Life +itself. It is the only real way. But we have +leaped from the part to the whole, from the +study of a detail to an application of the law +governing the whole subject. Back we must +go to our special point. If we can turn the +statement of a cold mathematical fact into +the expression of a living vital relation by +thinking vitally, so investing the fact with +personal significance and making it our own, +what can we not do with the more easily appropriated +thought which poets and philosophers +and play-writers have given us, and +with which rests our especial concern as interpreters? +Let us see what we can do! But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +first there is one other point to be considered +in this question of <i>vital thinking</i>. We have +spoken of one aspect of the process of the +mind in thinking,—the <i>concentration</i> upon +an idea until it is one's own. But there is +the passing of the mind from idea to idea to +be noted. This phase the psychologists name +"transition." This alternate concentration +and transition constitutes the "pulsing of the +mind" in reading, which Doctor Curry discusses +so vitally in his <i>Lessons in Vocal +Expression</i>. Now transition is an inevitable +result of concentration and follows it as naturally +as expiration follows inspiration. This +being true, we need only note, in our study of +the process of the mind in reading aloud, the +question of transition, letting it follow naturally +the fundamental act of concentration +which is our chief concern. If the intense +concentration is accomplished the clean +transition will follow. In choosing material +which shall require for adequate interpretation +this intense concentration of the mind, +we find our source, of course, to be the literature +of thought rather than the literature of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +feeling. The literary form which seems to +furnish the best examples for our purpose at +this point is the essay where the appeal is, +primarily, at least, an intellectual appeal. +For my own suggestive analysis and for our +preliminary study in vital thinking I have +chosen paragraphs from Emerson's essays +because Emerson's almost every paragraph +is an essay in miniature. The story is told +of the gentle seer that once in the midst of +a lecture he dropped all the pages of his +manuscript over the front of the pulpit. +The incident disturbed his auditors greatly +until they saw Mr. Emerson gather up the +leaves and without any effort at rearrangement +in the old order begin to read as though +nothing had happened. Every sentence was +almost equally pertinent to the main theme, +and suffered not from a new juxtaposition. +So in printing extracts from this source we +feel no sense of incompleteness.</p> + + +<h4>SUGGESTIVE ANALYSIS</h4> + +<p>Let us read this passage from Emerson's +<i>Experience</i>:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>To finish the moment, to find the journey's +end in every step of the road, to live the greatest +number of good hours, is wisdom. It is not the +part of men, but of fanatics—or of mathematicians, +if you will—to say that, the shortness of +life considered, it is not worth caring whether for +so short a duration we were sprawling in want or +sitting high. Since our office is with moments, +let us husband them. Five minutes of to-day +are worth as much to me as five minutes in the +next millennium. Let us be poised, and wise, +and our own, to-day. I settle myself ever the +firmer in the creed that we should not postpone +and refer and wish, but do broad justice where +we are, by whomsoever we deal with, accepting +our actual companions and circumstances, however +humble or odious, as the mystic officials to +whom the universe has delegated its whole +pleasure for us.</p></div> + +<p>If you do not think your way through this +paragraph clearly, concisely, logically, intensely, +when you read it aloud your voice +will betray you. In what way? Your tone +will lack resonance, your speech will lack precision, +your pitch will be monotonous, your +touch will be uncertain, your inflections will +be indefinite. Your reading will be unconvincing, +because it will fail in lucidity and +variety. In approaching this passage let us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +study first the question of proper emphasis. +What is emphasis? The dictionaries tell us +that, in delivery, it is a special stress of the +voice on a given word. But we must use it +in a broader sense than this. To emphasize a +word is not merely to put a special stress of +the voice upon that word. Such an attack +might only make the word conspicuous and +so defeat the aim of true emphasis. True +emphasis is the art of voicing the words in a +phrase so that they shall assume a right relation +to one another and, so related, best suggest +the thought of which they are the +symbols. I do not emphasize one word in a +phrase and not the others. I simply vary +my stress upon each word, in order to gain +the proper perspective for the whole sentence. +Just so, in a picture, I make one object stand +out, and others fall into the background, by +drawing or painting them in proper relation +to one another. I may use any or all of the +"elements of vocal expression" to give that +proper relation of values to the words in a +single phrase. I may pause, change my +pitch, vary my inflection, and alter my tone-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>color, +in order to give a single word its full +value. Let us try experiments in emphasis +with some isolated sentences before analyzing +the longer passage. Here is one of Robert +Louis Stevenson's beautifully wrought +periods:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Every man has a sane spot somewhere."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Let us vary, vocally, the relative values +of the words in this sentence, and +study the effect upon the character of the +thought. Let us look upon the statement as +a theme for discussion. With a pause before +the second word, "man," a lift of the voice +on that word, a whimsical turn of the tone, +and a significant inflection, we may convert +an innocent statement of fact into an incendiary +question for debate on the comparative +sanity of the sexes. A plea for endless faith +and charity becomes a back-handed criticism +of women. Now let us read the sentence, +giving it its true meaning. "Every man has +a sane spot somewhere." Let your voice +make of the statement a plea, by dwelling a +bit on the first word and again on the last<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +word. Hyphenate the first two words (they +really stand for one idea). Compound also +the words "sane" and "spot." Lift them +as a single word above the rest of the sentence. +Now put "somewhere" a little higher +still above the level of the rest of the sentence. +So, only, have we the true import of this +group of words:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i31">some<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i35">where.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i15">sane-spot<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Every-<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">man has a<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Analyze the rest of these sentences from +Stevenson in the same way, and experiment +with them vocally.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>That is never a bad wind that blows where we +want to go.</p> + +<p>For truth that is suppressed by friends is the +readiest weapon of the enemy.</p> + +<p>Some strand of our own misdoing is involved +in every quarrel.</p> + +<p>Drama is the poetry of conduct, romance the +poetry of circumstance.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> +<p>You cannot run away from a weakness; you +must sometime fight it out or perish; and if that +be so, why not now, and where you stand?</p> + +<p>An aim in life is the only fortune worth the +finding; and it is not to be found in foreign +lands, but in the heart itself.</p> + +<p>The world was not made for us; it was made +for ten hundred millions of me, all different from +each other and from us; there's no royal road, +we just have to sclamber and tumble.</p></div> + +<p>Now, once more, and this time with detailed +analysis, let us study the passage from +<i>Experience</i>. Let us first consider for a moment +some of the words which make this +passage powerful: <i>finish</i>, <i>journey's-end</i>, <i>good +hours</i>, <i>wisdom</i>, <i>fanatics</i>, <i>mathematicians</i>, +<i>sprawling-in-want</i>, <i>sitting-high</i>, <i>firmer</i>, <i>poised</i>, +<i>postpone</i>, <i>justice</i>, <i>humble</i>, <i>odious</i>, <i>mystic</i>, <i>pleasure</i>. +When spoken with a keen sense of its +inherent meaning, with full appreciation of +its form, and with delight in molding it, +how efficient each one of these words becomes! +When shall we, as a people, learn +reverence for the words which make up our +language—reverence that shall make us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +ashamed to mangle words, offering as our +excuse that we are "Westerners" or "Southerners" +or from New York or New England +or Indiana. The clear-cut thought calls for +the clean-cut speech. Let us say these words +over and over until they assume full value. +And now we pass from words to groups of +words. The mind and the tone must move +progressively through the first three phrases +which make up this first sentence: "To finish +the moment, to find the journey's end in +every step of the road, to live the greatest +number of good hours, is wisdom." The +phrases must be held together by an almost +imperceptible suspension and upward reach of +the voice at the end of each group of words, +and yet each phrase must be allowed to be +momentarily complete. Read the sentence, +making each phrase a conclusion, and then +again letting each phrase look forward to the +next. Each phrase is really a substantive, +looking forward to its predicate through a +second substantive which is a little more vital +than the first, and again through a third +substantive which is a little more vital than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +either of the other two. Bring this out +in reading the sentence. The next sentence +depends for its significance upon your contrasting +inflections of the three words "men," +"fanatics," and "mathematicians"; and +again upon your sympathetic inflection of +"sprawling-in-want" and "sitting-high." "It +is not the part of men, but of fanatics—or of +mathematicians, if you will—to say that, the +shortness of life considered, it is not worth +caring whether for so short a duration we +were sprawling in want or sitting high." In +your utterance of these words can you make +"men" MEN, and "fanatics" <i>fanatics</i>, and +consign "mathematicians" to the cold corner +of human affairs designed for them? Can +you so inflect "sprawling in want" and +"sitting high" as to suggest a swamp and a +mountain-top, or a frog and an angel? Let +your voice leap from the swamp to the +mountain-top. Let it climb. Now comes +the swift, concise, admonitory sentence: +"Since our office is with moments, let us +husband them." Pause before you speak +the word "husband," and <i>husband</i> it. "Five<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +minutes of to-day are worth as much to me +as five minutes in the next millennium." +Make "five minutes of to-day" one word, +and accent the last syllable, thus: five-minutes-of-<i>to-day</i>. +Let the tone retard and take +its time on the last seven words. Now poise +your tone for the next sentence. "Let us be +poised, and wise, and our own, to-day." +The paragraph closes with a more complex +statement of the theme. Let your voice +search out the meaning. Let it settle down +into the conclusion, and utter it convincingly. +Give a definite touch to the words which I +shall put in italics. "I settle myself ever +<i>firmer</i> in the <i>creed</i> that we should not <i>postpone</i> +and <i>refer</i> and <i>wish</i>, but do <i>broad-justice</i> where +we <i>are</i>, by <i>whomsoever</i> we deal with, accepting +our <i>actual</i> companions and circumstances, +however <i>humble</i> or <i>odious</i>, as the <i>mystic +officials</i> to whom the <i>universe</i> has dedicated +its <i>whole pleasure</i> for <i>us</i>."</p> + +<p>Analyze vocally the following paragraph:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>There is a time in every man's education +when he arrives at the conviction that envy is +ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>must take himself for better for worse as his +portion; that though the wide universe is full of +good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to +him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of +ground which is given to him to till. The power +which resides in him is new in nature, and none +but he knows what that is which he can do, nor +does he know until he has tried.... What I +must do is all that concerns me, not what the +people think. This rule, equally arduous in +actual and in intellectual life, may serve for the +whole distinction between greatness and meanness. +It is the harder because you will always +find those who think they know what is your +duty better than you know it. It is easy in the +world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy +in solitude to live after our own; but the great +man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps +with perfect sweetness the independence of +solitude.—<i>Self-Reliance.</i></p></div> + + +<h4>SELECTIONS FOR INTERPRETATION</h4> + +<p>By choosing as further material for vocal +interpretation selections which shall also be +good examples for examination as to their +literary construction, we shall serve the +double purpose of adapting our studies in +vocal interpretation to the uses of English +composition.</p> + +<p>The following selections are to be: first,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +read aloud (in class); second, examined as to +their literary construction (in class); third, +analyzed and reported upon as specimens of +exposition and argumentation (in the study).</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Exposition is an explanation, a setting forth, +or an expounding. It is an attempt to render +something plain, an effort to convey to the reader +a train of thought which represents the conclusions +of the writer upon a subject. The writer, +it is at once evident, must be acquainted with +the subject with which he deals. He is presuming +to teach, and must be in a position which +justifies him in so doing. He is prepared to +write an exposition only when he is able, in regard +to the topic in hand, to take frankly and +unreservedly the attitude of a teacher.</p> + +<p>A teacher must have many good gifts and +graces; and whoever else may fail to be well +acquainted with a given lesson, he must have +mastered it thoroughly. To teach he must first +know. Whoever has taught understands how +completely different is the attitude of the teacher +from that of the pupil. While the pupil is +hardly expected to be able to do more than +reasonably well to understand the subject in +hand, the teacher must be able to explain, to +justify, to make clear relations, and to impart +the whole matter. The pupil is excused with +a sort of hearsay knowledge, but the teacher +must have a vital experience of what he teaches. +Especially must he be able to comprehend and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>to represent a subject as a whole. He is responsible +for the student's being able in turn +to co-ordinate facts and theories so as to produce +unity; and it is therefore essential that he himself +have power to hold and to make clear a +continuous train of thought.</p> + +<p>The teacher, moreover, must have over his +mind discipline so firm that he is not dependent +upon moods. He must cover the wide difference +between the train of thought which springs +spontaneously in the mind and that which is +laboriously worked out as a logical sequence of +ideas relating to a subject forced upon the attention. +The pupil may, to a certain extent, indulge +the vagaries of his inclination, but the +teacher must respond to the need of the moment. +He must have trained his mind to give +an intelligent judgment upon any matter presented +to it. He is not equipped for instructing—nor +is any individual ready for life—until he +can command the resources of his inner self to +the utmost. The trained person is one who +can take a subject which may not at the outset +especially appeal to him, which is full of complications, +which is not in itself, perhaps, attractive, +and can insist with himself that his mind shall +master it thoroughly. He is able so to expend +his whole mental strength, if need be, upon any +necessary topic that the subject shall be examined, +acquired, assimilated, and then shall +be so organized, so illumined, and so presented +that others shall be instructed. The mind of +the teacher, in a word, is so disciplined that it +will work when it is ordered.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> +<p>The ideal state of mind for him who wishes to +communicate knowledge is that of being absolute +master of all its resources. Many who possess +no inconsiderable powers of thought are +practically unable to command the best powers +of their intelligence. They depend upon the +whim of the moment, upon some outward pressure +or inward impulse, to arouse their intellect. +They fail to reflect that while any ordinary intellect +naturally forms some opinion upon any +subject which interests it, only the trained mind +is able to judge clearly and lucidly of an indifferent +or uninteresting matter. In this mastery +of thought lies the difference between the sterile +and the productive mind. Only one brain in a +thousand has not the disposition to shirk work +if it is allowed, and every student has moments +when his intelligence seems almost to act like a +spoiled child that hates to get up when called on +a cold morning. To establish the power of the +will over the intellect is the object of education, +and the ability to exercise this power is what is +meant by the proper use of the word "cultivation."</p> + +<p>The mental process of the cultivated thinker +when considering any subject is likely to be: +first, to become sure of his terms; then, clearly +to set before his mind the facts and conditions; +and, lastly, to make the possible and resulting +deductions and conclusions. This gives a hint, +and indeed practically affords a rule for the +writer of exposition.</p> + +<p>An exposition, broadly speaking, may be +said to consist of three steps which nearly corre<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>spond +to the three steps of mental activity just +set down: the Definition, the Statement, and +the Inference.</p> + +<p>Definition is making clear to self or to the +reader what is under discussion.</p> + +<p>Statement is the setting forth of whatever is +to be said of the facts, conditions, relations, and +so on, which it is the object of the exposition to +make clear.</p> + +<p>Inference is the conclusion or conclusions +drawn.</p> + +<p>These three parts will seldom be found as +formal divisions in any ordinary exposition, but +in some sort they are always present; and the +writer must at least have them clear in his mind +if he hopes to render his work well ordered, +comprehensive, and symmetrical. Together +they are woven as the strands which give a firmness +of texture to the whole.</p> + +<p>To illustrate the bearing of this analysis on +the composition of an exposition, we may +imagine that a student has been required to +write a theme on "The Influence of College +Life." He has first to concern himself with +definition. He must decide what he means by +college life as a molding influence; whether its +intellectual, its social, its moral aspects, or all +these. He must consider, too, whether he is to +deal with the effect upon specific characters or +upon types; whether upon boys during the time +they are in college or as a training for after life; +whether at a special institution or as the result +of any college. If he limits himself to one phase +of influence, he must in the same way decide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +fully in what sense he intends to treat that +phase. If he is to consider the social effect of +college life, for instance, he has to define for +himself the sense in which he will use the word +"social." Is it to mean simply formal society, +adaptation to the more conventional and exclusive +forms of human intercourse, or to imply all +that renders a man more self-poised, more +flexible, and more adaptable in any relations +with his fellows? If, on the other hand, it is the +intellectual influence of college life which is to +be studied, the first step is to decide what is to +be considered for this purpose the range of the +term "intellectual"; whether it is to be taken +to mean the mere acquirement of information; +whether it has relation to acquirement or to +modification of mental conditions; whether it +means change in the mind in the way of development +or of modification; whether it shall be +applied to an alteration in the student's attitude +toward knowledge or toward life in general. All +this is in the line of definition, and it is naturally +connected with the statement of whatever facts +bear upon the topic under discussion.</p> + +<p>Statement has largely to do with fact. Theory +belongs rather to whatever inference is part of an +exposition. In the statement will come the +observations of the writer; whatever he knows +of general conditions at college, or such individual +examples as bear upon the question in +hand. From these he will inevitably draw some +conclusions, and the value of the exposition will +depend upon the reasonableness and convincingness +of these inferences, as these will, in turn,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +depend upon the clearness of the writer's original +knowledge in regard to his intentions and the +logic of his statements.</p> + +<p>Composition, it should be remembered, is the +art of communicating to others what is in the +mind of the writer. To write without having +the subject abundantly in mind is to invite the +reader to a Barmecide feast of empty dishes. +The necessity of insisting upon such particulars +as those just given of the process of making an +exposition arises from the stubborn idea of the +untrained student that writing is something +done with paper and ink. It is, on the contrary, +something which is done with brains; it is less +putting things on paper than it is thinking things +out in the mind.</p> + +<p>Before leaving the illustration of a theme on +the influence of college life we may glance a +moment more at the difficulty, even with so +simple a subject, of attaining perfect clarity of +thinking. One of the first things which must be +determined is the essential difference of life in +a college from ordinary existence. If the subject +be given out to a class of students half the +themes handed in will begin with a remark upon +the great change which comes to a boy who +finds himself for the first time freed from the +restraints of home. The moment this idea is +presented to the mind it is to be looked at, +not as something with which to fill so much +paper, but as a stepping-stone toward ideas +beyond. It is necessary, for instance, to determine +the distinctions between freedom at +college and freedom elsewhere; to decide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +wherein lie the differences in the conditions +which surround a boy in a university and one +who escapes from the restrictions of home by +going away to live in a city or in a country +village, on shipboard or in the army. To be +of value, every thought in an exposition must +have been tested by a comparison with allied +ideas as wide and as exhaustive as the thinker +is equal to making.</p> + +<p>To learn to think is, after all, the prime essential +in exposition-writing, and the beginning of +thought is the realization of what is already +known. The student who patiently examines +his views on the subject of which he is to write, +who determines to discover exactly how much +he knows and what is the relative importance of +each of his opinions, is likely soon to come to +find that he is considering the theme chosen not +only deeply, but with tangible results. The +value of any exposition, to sum the matter up in +a word, rests primarily and chiefly on the +thoroughness of the thought which produces it.—<span class="smcap">Arlo +Bates.</span><a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p>The <i>Idylls of the King</i> has been called a +quasi-epic. Departing from the conventional +epic form by its lack of a closely continuous narrative, +it has yet that lofty manner and underlying +unity of design which leads us to class it +with the epics, at least, in the essentials. It +consists of a series of chivalric legends, taken +chiefly from the <i>Morte d'Arthur</i> of Sir Thomas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +Malory, grouped so as to exhibit the establishment, +the greatness, and the downfall of an +ideal kingdom of righteousness among men. +"The Coming of Arthur," the ideal ruler, shows +us the setting up of this kingdom. Before this +was disorder, great tracts of wilderness,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wherein the beast was ever more and more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But man was less and less.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Arthur slays the beast and fells the forest, +and the old order changes to give place to new. +Then the song of Arthur's knights rises, a +majestic chorus of triumph:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Clang battle-axe and clash brand. Let the king reign.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In "Gareth and Lynette" the newly established +kingdom is seen doing its work among +men. Arthur, enthroned in his great hall, dispenses +impartial justice. The knights</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ride abroad redressing human wrongs.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The allegory shows us, in Gareth's contests +with the knights "that have no law nor King," +the contest of the soul with the temptations that +at different periods of life successively attack it:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The war of Time against the soul of man.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then follow the "Idylls," which trace the entrance +and growth of an element of sin and discord, +which, spreading, pulls down into ruin +that "fellowship of noble knights," "which are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +an image of the mighty world." The purity of +the ideal kingdom is fouled, almost at its source, +by the guilty love of Lancelot and the Queen. +Among some the contagion spreads; while +others, in an extremity of protest, start in quest +of the Holy Grail, leaving the duty at hand for +mystical visions. Man cannot bring down +heaven to earth; he cannot sanctify the mass of +men by his own rapturous anticipations; he +cannot safely neglect the preliminary stages of +progress appointed for the race; he "may not +wander from the allotted field before his work +be done."</p> + +<p>So by impurity and by impatience the rift in +the kingdom widens, and in "The Last Tournament," +in the stillness before the impending +doom, we hear the shrill voice of Dagonet railing +at the King, who thinks himself as God, that he +can make</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Honey from hornet-combs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And men from beasts.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In "Guinevere," unequaled elsewhere in the +"Idylls" in pure poetry, the blow falls; at +length, in the concluding poem, Arthur passes +to the isle of Avilion, and once more</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The old order changeth, yielding place to new.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Tennyson himself tells us that in this, his +longest poem, he has meant to shadow "sense at +war with soul," the struggle in the individual +and in the race, between that body which links +us with the brute and the soul which makes us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +part of a spiritual order. But the mastery of +the higher over the lower is only obtained +through many seeming failures. Wounded and +defeated, the King exclaims:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For I, being simple, thought to work His will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And have but stricken with the sword in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all whereon I lean'd, in wife and friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is traitor to my peace, and all my realm<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Reels back into the beast</i>, and is no more.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But he also half perceives the truth which it is +the poet's purpose to suggest to us. It is short-sighted +to expect the immediate sanctification +of the race; if we are disheartened, striving to +"work His will," it is because "we see not +the close." It is impossible that Arthur's work +should end in failure—departing, he declares, +"I pass, but shall not die," and when his grievous +wound is healed, he will return. The <i>Idylls of +the King</i> is thus the epic of evolution in application +to the progress of human society. In it the +teachings of "In Memoriam" assume a narrative +form.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Move upward, working out the beast,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>may be taken as a brief statement of its theme: +and we read in it the belief in the tendency upward +and an assurance of ultimate triumph:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, yet we trust that somehow good<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will be the final goal of ill,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To pangs of nature, sins of will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;<br /></span></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That nothing walks with aimless feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That not one life shall be destroyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or cast as rubbish to the void<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When God hath made the pile complete.<br /></span> +</div> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Pancoast.</span><a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> +</div> + +<p>As an interlude study which shall look back +to the step we have just taken, and forward to +the one we are about to take, let us test our +growth in <i>vitality in thinking</i> and our need of +<i>intelligence in feeling</i>, by voicing the following +selections from didactic poetry. This +form affords the best exercise in both activities +because it makes a double appeal, and so +a double demand upon the interpreter—an +appeal through form to emotion, through aim +to intelligence, and through message and +atmosphere to both. I have chosen examples +of this form in which the beauty and fascination +of meter, rhythm, and rhyme, and the +didactic nature of the thought do not seem to +overbalance each other. If either should +predominate you must, by your interpretation, +strike the balance. In reading Robert +Browning's <i>Rabbi Ben Ezra</i> (from which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +I shall quote but a few verses) you must +carry to your auditor the full import of the +philosophy, but in doing so you must not lose +the beauty of the verse in which the poet has +set it.</p> + +<div class="poem">RABBI BEN EZRA<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Grow old along with me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The best is yet to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The last of life, for which the first was made:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our times are in His hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who saith, "A whole I planned,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not that, amassing flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youth sighed, "Which rose make ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which lily leave and then as best recall?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not that, admiring stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It yearned, "Nor Jove, nor Mars;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not for such hopes and fears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Annulling youth's brief years,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rather I prize the doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low kinds exist without,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><p style="word-spacing: 0.75em;"><b>· · · · ·</b></p> +<span class="i0"><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, welcome each rebuff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That turns earth's smoothness rough,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be our joys three-parts pain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strive and hold cheap the strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For thence—a paradox<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which comforts while it mocks—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What I aspired to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And was not, comforts me:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><p style="word-spacing: 0.75em;"><b>· · · · ·</b></p> +<span class="i0"><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, who shall arbitrate?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten men love what I hate,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shun what I follow, slight what I receive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten, who in ears and eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Match me: we all surmise,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They, this thing, and I, that: whom shall my soul believe?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not on the vulgar mass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Called "work," must sentence pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Things done, that took the eye and had the price;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er which, from level stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The low world laid its hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But all, the world's coarse thumb<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And finger failed to plumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So passed in making up the main account:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All instincts immature,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All purposes unsure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thoughts hardly to be packed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into a narrow act,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fancies that broke through language and escaped;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All I could never be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All, men ignored in me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><p style="word-spacing: 0.75em;"><b>· · · · ·</b></p> +<span class="i0"><br /></span> + +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Browning.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem">FORBEARANCE<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hast thou named all the birds without a gun?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At rich men's tables eaten bread and pulse?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loved so well a high behavior,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nobility more nobly to repay?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O, be my friend, and teach me to be thine!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="poem">EACH AND ALL<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thee from the hill-top looking down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heifer that lows in the upland farm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sexton, tolling his bell at noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deems not that great Napoleon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stops his horse and lists with delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor knowest thou what argument<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All are needed by each one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nothing is fair or good alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought the sparrow's note from heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing at dawn on the alder bough;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I brought him home, in his nest, at even;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sings the song, but it cheers not now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I did not bring home the river and sky;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sang to my ear,—they sang to my eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The delicate shells lay on the shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bubbles of the latest wave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh pearls to their enamel gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bellowing of the savage sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Greeted their safe escape to me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wiped away the weeds and foam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fetched my sea-born treasures home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the poor, unsightly, noisome things<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had left their beauty on the shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the sun and the sand and the wild uproar.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lover watched his graceful maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As 'mid the virgin train she strayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor knew her beauty's best attire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was woven still by the snow-white choir.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span><span class="i0">At last she came to his hermitage,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gay enchantment was undone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gentle wife, but fairy none.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then I said, "I covet truth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I leave it behind with the games of youth":—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I spoke, beneath my feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Running over the club-moss burrs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I inhaled the violet's breath;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around me stood the oaks and firs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over me soared the eternal sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full of light and of deity;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again I saw, again I heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rolling river, the morning bird;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beauty through my senses stole;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I yielded myself to the perfect whole.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Emerson.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p>As a final step in this study which has for +its aim an increase in your power to <i>think +vitally</i> you are to choose from the "great +heap of your knowledge" a subject about +which you have sufficient understanding and +enthusiasm to justify your discussion of it, +and with this as a topic you are "to unmuzzle +your wisdom" in the form of <i>exposition</i> +or <i>argumentation</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="SECOND_STUDY" id="SECOND_STUDY"></a>SECOND STUDY</h2> + + +<h4>TO ESTABLISH INTELLIGENCE IN FEELING</h4> + +<p>Art is in bondage in this country: its +internal polity to the temperamental +ideal; its external polity to the commercial +ideal. Business and social life are in the +same bondage. In music, in drama, in letters, +in society, and in trade we permit personality +to exploit itself for commercial +purposes. The result is either chaotic or +calculated expression on every side. When +temperament seeks restraint in technique, +and policy, whether business or social, seeks +freedom in service, then shall we have that +balanced expression in art, in society, and +in trade which should proceed from the +American personality and distinguish American +life.</p> + +<p>It may seem a far cry from a comment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +upon American life to the subject of this +second study—<i>intelligence in feeling</i>. Carry +the idea of balanced expression from the +introduction to the body of this exposition +and the transition is not difficult to +make.</p> + +<p>"Wonderful technique, but no heart in her +singing!" "Tremendous temperament, but +no technique!" "She moves me profoundly, +but oh, what a method!" "Her instrument +is flawless, but she leaves me absolutely unmoved." +Have you ever heard such comment, +or made such comment, or been the +subject of like comment? Diagnosis of the +case, whether it be yours or another's, should +be the same—lack of poise in expression, +producing the undesirable effect upon the +auditor of no emotion at all, or of unintelligent +emotion. To determine just what +we mean by intelligent emotion is our first +problem for this study.</p> + +<p>An experience I had in visiting a class in +interpretation in a well-known school of +oratory some years ago will illustrate the +point. The selection for interpretation was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +the prelude to the first part of <i>The Vision of +Sir Launfal</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And what is so rare as a day in June?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, if ever, come perfect days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And over it softly her warm ear lays; ..."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The work was well under way when I entered +the class-room. My entrance did not disturb +the expression on the face of the student +who was "up before" the class. A Malvolio +smile was never more deliciously indelible. +I thought at first my request to see some +work in interpretation had been mistaken +and I had been ushered into a class in facial +gymnastics. Then I concluded that Mr. +Lowell's poem was being employed as text +for an exercise in smiling. Finally the awful +truth came upon me that this teacher of +interpretation was seriously attempting to +secure from her pupils an expression which +should suggest the spirit of the June day by +asking them to assume the outward sign of +joy known as smiling. The result was a +ghastly series of facial contortions, which +left at least one auditor's day as bleak as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +the bleakest December. No intelligent feeling +can be induced in interpreter or auditor +by assuming the outward sign of an inward +emotion. Some of you are recalling Mr. +James's <i>talk to students</i>, on the reflex theory +of emotion, and are being confused at this +point. Let us stop and straighten out the +confusion. Mr. James says:</p> + +<p>"Action seems to follow feeling, but really +action and feeling go together; and by regulating +the action, which is under the more +direct control of the will, we can indirectly +regulate the feeling, which is not.</p> + +<p>"Thus the sovereign voluntary path to +cheerfulness, if our spontaneous cheerfulness +be lost, is to sit up cheerfully, to look round +cheerfully, and to act and speak as if cheerfulness +were already there. If such conduct +does not make you soon feel cheerful, nothing +else on that occasion can. So to feel +brave, act as if we <i>were</i> brave, use all our +will to that end, and a courage-fit will +very likely replace the fit of fear."</p> + +<p>The application of this principle to the +reading of these lines would seem to justify<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +the method the teacher was pursuing. A +smile is acceptedly the indication of happy +emotion, the outward symbol of inward rejoicing +or joy. The June day is full of joyful +emotion,—the joy of awakening life. +Applying Mr. James's theory, a legitimate +way to induce the inward emotion would seem +to be to assume the outward sign. But wait +a moment. Let us look to our premises. +Mr. Lanier, who sings of Nature with joyful +understanding, cries in <i>Sunrise</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Tell me, sweet burly-bark'd, man-bodied Tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That mine arms in the dark are embracing, dost know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From what fount are these tears at thy feet which flow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They rise not from reason, but deeper inconsequent deeps.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Reason's not one that weeps.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What logic of greeting lies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Betwixt dear over-beautiful trees and the rain of the eyes?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Here is a great master of verbal expression +whose inward joy finds its outward symbol +not in a smile but in a tear. So you and I +may respond to Mr. Lowell's "high tide of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +the year" with smiles or with tears, with +bowed head and closed eyes, or with eyes +wide and head raised to meet the returning +flood of life.</p> + +<p>The effect upon me of the beauty of this +day as Mr. Lowell has painted it, my personal +emotional response is interesting psychology, +but is not my concern as an interpreter. +My own emotion and its personal +response belong to my preparatory interpretative +efforts in the study; but when the +interpretation is ready for the audience-room, +the emotion must be assimilated into the +interpretative act and appear only as part +of the illumination of the bit of life I am +presenting.</p> + +<p>The object of all great art, whether creative +or interpretative, is not to exploit the +personality of the artist, but to disclose at +some point the personality of the very God +himself, which is life. The revelation not +of personal emotion but of universal life is +the legitimate aim of all artistic effort.</p> + +<p>Emotional response will accompany every +vital mental conception. Abandonment to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +that response is a legitimate and necessary +part of full comprehension. But such abandonment, +as I have said, belongs to our preparation +for expression. Such abandonment +must not be taken out of the study on to the +stage. No temperamental expression along +any line is fit for the public until it is controlled +by technique, the technique which +has been worked out by the masters of every +art, not excluding the art of living.</p> + +<p>It is not the effect of June upon you I +want from your interpretation, it is the spirit +of June itself. You must let me have my +own emotion. Your emotional response was +the result of your mental concept; mine, +to be intelligent, must find the same impulse. +If you impose your own emotion upon me +mine will be merely an unintelligent reflection +of yours. Taking as our ideal of the interpreter, +the absolutely pure medium, bars out +every manifestation which calls attention to +the interpreter, and so interferes with the +direct message.</p> + +<p>"The natural form of expression which +literature takes when it passes beyond the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +normal powers of prose, is lyric poetry. +When your feelings rise beyond a certain +degree of stress you need the stronger beat +and vibration of verse; to express the highest +joy or the deepest grief poetry is your +natural instrument." Again corroborated in +our choice of direction in study by Mr. +Gardiner, let us turn for "material" in the +establishment of <i>intelligence in emotion</i>, to +the most intensive type of the literature of +feeling,—lyric poetry.</p> + +<p>"Every now and then a man will come who +will reduce to words—as Mr. Ruskin has +done—some impression of vivid pleasure +which has never been reduced to words before. +It is only the great master who makes these +advances; by studying his works you may +perhaps come somewhere near the mark that +he has set." This further word from the +same paragraph should influence us to pause +with Mr. Ruskin's poetry in prose form for +a brief study on our way to the lyrics of +Wordsworth and Shelley and Keats, a song +from Shakespeare, and some few from the +rare, more modern lyricists. I shall trust<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +you to this by-path under the guidance of +<i>The Forms of Prose Literature</i>, where you will +find passages from such masters of prose as +Mr. Ruskin and Mr. Stevenson—passages of +surpassing lyric beauty which shall furnish +models for your correlated study in Description.</p> + + +<h4>SUGGESTIVE ANALYSIS</h4> + +<p>I have chosen for suggestive analysis of +the lyric, Shelley's ode <i>To a Skylark</i>. I +shall analyze in detail only the first five +stanzas:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Bird thou never wert,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That from heaven, or near it<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pourest thy full heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Higher still and higher<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From the earth thou springest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like a cloud of fire<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The blue deep thou wingest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.<br /></span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">In the golden lightning<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of the sunken sun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er which clouds are brightening,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thou dost float and run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The pale purple even<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Melts around thy flight;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like a star of heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the broad daylight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Keen as are the arrows<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of that silver sphere<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose intense lamp narrows<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the white dawn clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>How shall we create an atmosphere for the +reading of these verses! How can we catch +the spirit of the creator of them! Shall we +ever feel ready to voice that first line? Do +you know Jules Breton's picture <i>The +Lark</i>? Do you love it? Go, then, and +stand before it, actually or in imagination. +Let something of the spirit which informs +that lovely child, lifting her eyes, her head +in an attitude of listening rapture, steal +over you. I know her power. I have tested +it. In reading the "Skylark" with a class<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +of boys and girls from twelve to fourteen +years old, I tried the experiment. I happened +to have with me a beautiful copy of +Breton's picture. I took it to the class-room. +I wrote on the blackboard verses of the +poem and hung the picture over them. The +<i>picture</i> taught them to read the poem. The +eyes of the girl became their teacher. I tried +the experiment, with a private pupil in my +studio, with a somewhat different result. I +had told her to bring a copy of Shelley's +poems to her next lesson. "Do you know +the ode <i>To a Skylark</i>?" I asked. "Yes," +she said. A copy of Breton's picture hung +on the wall. "Before you open your book +look at the picture," I said. She obeyed. +Her expression, always radiant, deepened its +radiance. "Do you know what the girl is +doing?" I asked. "Oh yes, she is listening +to the skylark." "How do you know?" +"I have heard the skylark sing." "I never +have," I said. "Read the poem to me." +Now when <i>I</i> read the "Skylark," I see the +girl in Jules Breton's picture, but I hear the +voice of my English pupil.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>But if our apperceptive background fails +to furnish a memory of the identical sight +and sound for our inspiring, it at least +holds bird notes and bird flights of great +beauty, and we must call upon these for the +impulse to voice Shelley's apostrophe:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Bird thou never wert,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That from heaven, or near it<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Pourest thy full heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>An early autumn number of the <i>Atlantic +Monthly</i> for 1907 published a poem by Mr. +Ridgley Torrence, entitled <i>The Lesser Children</i>, +or <i>A Threnody at the Hunting Season</i>. +The poem is worthy, in sentiment and +structure, to be set beside Shelley's ode. Let +us compare with the picture which the eighteenth-century +poet has given us this one +from our modern song-writer:</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who has not seen in the high gulf of light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What, lower, was a bird, but now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is moored and altered quite<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into an island of unshaded joy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To whom the mate below upon the bough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shouts once and brings him from his high employ.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet speeding he forgot not of the cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where he from glory sprang and burned aloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But took a little of the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little of the colored sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And of the joy that would not stay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wove a song that cannot die.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Now let us study closely the first verse +of the older poem. Spirit and voice must +soar in the first line, "Hail to thee, blithe +Spirit!" The two words "hail" and "blithe" +are swift-winged words. Let them fly. Give +them their wings. Let them do all they are +intended to do. The rhythm of the whole +poem is aspiring. Reverence the rhythm, +but keep the thought floating clear above it +in the second line, "Bird thou never wert." +With the next two lines the tone must gather +head to be poured forth in the last line, "In +profuse strains of unpremeditated art." Let +us make another comparative study. Set on +the other side of this picture Lowell's description +of the "little bird" in his prologue +to Sir Launfal's vision:</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The little bird sits at his door in the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Atilt like a blossom among the leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lets his illumined being o'errun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the deluge of summer it receives.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The second verse of the "Skylark" demands +a still higher flight of imagination and +tone. Let us try it.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Higher still and higher<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From the earth thou springest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like a cloud of fire<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The blue deep thou wingest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Again all the words rise and float. Sing +them over: <i>higher</i>, <i>higher</i>, <i>springest</i>, <i>fire</i>, +<i>wingest</i>, <i>singing</i>, <i>soar</i>, <i>soaring</i>, <i>singest</i>. The +reader must feel himself poised for flight in +every word of the first three verses. Why +does the poet say cloud of fire? What is the +color of the skylark? And now the tone, +which has been of a radiant hue through +these three verses, must soften a little in the +first three lines of the next verse—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">The pale purple even<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Melts around thy flight;—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>glow gold again in the last three lines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Like a star of heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the broad daylight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art unseen, and yet I hear thy shrill delight—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and become the white of an incandescent +light in the next verse—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Keen as are the arrows<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of that silver sphere<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose intense lamp narrows<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the white dawn clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Do you not see that the secret of its beauty +lies, for vocal interpretation, in the color of +tone and in the inflection of the words? Say +"unseen," dwelling on the second syllable; +"shrill delight," directing <i>shrill</i> over the +head of <i>delight</i>; "keen," making it cleave +the air like an arrow; "silver sphere," suggesting +a moonlit path across water; "intense" +and "narrows," letting the tone recede +into the "white dawn"; "see," with +a vanishing stress; and "feel," with a deepening +note carried to the end. So we might +go on through the twenty-one stanzas which +make up the poem.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>Please analyze undirected the next two +verses.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">All the earth and air<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With thy voice is loud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As, when night is bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From one lonely cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflow'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">What thou art we know not;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What is most like thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From rainbow clouds there flow not<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Drops so bright to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>In reading the first lines of the next four +verses we must avoid monotony.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Like a poet hidden<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In the light of thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Singing hymns unbidden,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Till the world is wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Like a high-born maiden<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In a palace tower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soothing her love-laden<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Soul in secret hour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Like a glowworm golden<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In a dell of dew,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Scattering unbeholden<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Its aerial hue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Like a rose embower'd<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In its own green leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">By warm winds deflower'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Till the scent it gives<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Vary, if only for variety, the pitch on +which you begin each of these first lines. +Let the first three words of the eighth verse, +"like a poet," ascend in pitch. Keep the +voice level in the first line of the ninth verse, +"like a high-born maiden." Let the pitch +fall in the first words of the tenth stanza, +"like a glowworm golden." And again keep +the tone level on the first line of the next +stanza, "like a rose embower'd." I leave to +you the analysis of the rest of the poem:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Sound of vernal showers<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On the twinkling grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rain-awaken'd flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All that ever was<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Teach us, sprite or bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What sweet thoughts are thine:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I have never heard<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Praise of love or wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Chorus hymeneal<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or triumphal chaunt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Match'd with thine, would be all<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But an empty vaunt—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">What objects are the fountains<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of thy happy strain?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What field, or waves, or mountains?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What shapes of sky or plain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">With thy clear, keen joyance<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Languor cannot be:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shadow of annoyance<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Never came near thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou lovest; but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Waking or asleep<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thou of death must deem<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Things more true and deep<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Than we mortals dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">We look before and after,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And pine for what is not:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our sincerest laughter<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With some pain is fraught;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Yet if we could scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hate and pride and fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If we were things born<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Not to shed a tear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Better than all measures<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of delightful sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Better than all treasures<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That in books are found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Teach me half the gladness<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That thy brain must know,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such harmonious madness<br /></span> +<span class="i4">From my lips would flow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world should listen then, as I am listening now!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Shelley.</span></p> +</div></div> + + +<h4>SELECTIONS FOR INTERPRETATION</h4> + +<p>The following selections from lyric poetry +are designed to give the voice exercise in +the expression of varied emotions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">I</p> + +<div class="poem">THE DAFFODILS<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wander'd lonely as a cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That floats on high o'er vales and hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all at once I saw a crowd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A host of golden daffodils,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside the lake, beneath the trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Continuous as the stars that shine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And twinkle on the milky way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They stretch'd in never-ending line<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Along the margin of a bay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ten thousand saw I at a glance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The waves beside them danced, but they<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Poet could not but be gay<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In such a jocund company!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I gazed—and gazed—but little thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What wealth the show to me had brought;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For oft, when on my couch I lie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In vacant or in pensive mood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They flash upon that inward eye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Which is the bliss of solitude;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then my heart with pleasure fills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dances with the daffodils.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">II</p> + +<div class="poem">BY THE SEA<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It is a beauteous evening, calm and free;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The holy time is quiet as a Nun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathless with adoration; the broad sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is sinking down in its tranquillity;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listen! the mighty Being is awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And doth with his eternal motion make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sound like thunder—everlastingly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear child! dear girl! that walkest with me here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou appear untouch'd by solemn thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy nature is not therefore less divine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And worship'st at the Temple's inner shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God being with thee when we know it not.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">III</p> + +<div class="poem">TO THE CUCKOO<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O blithe new-comer! I have heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I hear thee and rejoice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or but a wandering Voice?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">While I am lying on the grass<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy twofold shout I hear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From hill to hill it seems to pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At once far off and near.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though babbling only to the vale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of sunshine and of flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou bringest unto me a tale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of visionary hours.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even yet thou art to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No bird, but an invisible thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A voice, a mystery;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The same whom in my school-boy days<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I listen'd to; that Cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which made me look a thousand ways<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In bush, and tree, and sky.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To seek thee did I often rove<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through woods and on the green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thou wert still a hope, a love,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still long'd for, never seen!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And I can listen to thee yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can lie upon the plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And listen, till I do beget<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That golden time again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O blesséd Bird! the earth we pace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Again appears to be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An unsubstantial, faery place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That is fit home for Thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Wordsworth.</span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">IV</p> + +<div class="poem">ODE TO THE WEST WIND<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pestilence-stricken multitudes! O thou<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wingéd seeds, where they lie cold and low,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each like a corpse within its grave, until<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With living hues and odours plain and hill:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Destroyer and Preserver; Hear, oh hear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's commotion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook from the tangled boughs of heaven and ocean,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Angels of rain and lightning! there are spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the blue surface of thine airy surge,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like the bright hair uplifted from the head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of some fierce Maenad, ev'n from the dim verge<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the horizon to the zenith's height—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Of the dying year, to which this closing night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vaulted with all thy congregated might<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst: Oh hear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou who didst waken from his summer-dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lull'd by the coil of his crystalline streams,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw in sleep old palaces and towers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quivering within the wave's intenser day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All overgrown with azure moss, and flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whose path the Atlantic's level powers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sapless foliage of the ocean, know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tremble and despoil themselves: Oh hear!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The impulse of thy strength, only less free<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than Thou, O uncontrollable! If even<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I were as in my boyhood, and could be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce seem'd a vision,—I would ne'er have striven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heavy weight of hours has chain'd and bow'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One too like thee—tameless, and swift, and proud.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Make me thy lyre, ev'n as the forest is:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What if my leaves are falling like its own!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tumult of thy mighty harmonies<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will take from both a deep autumnal tone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My spirit! be thou me, impetuous one!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drive my dead thoughts over the universe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like wither'd leaves, to quicken a new birth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, by the incantation of this verse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Scatter, as from an unextinguish'd hearth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Be through my lips to unawaken'd earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Shelley</span>.</p> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">V</p> + +<div class="poem">TO THE NIGHT<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swiftly walk over the western wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Spirit of night!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out of the misty eastern cave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, all the long and lone daylight,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span><span class="i0">Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which make thee terrible and dear,—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Swift be thy flight!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wrap thy form in a mantle gray<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Star-inwrought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kiss her until she be wearied out:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then wander o'er sea and city and land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touching all with thine opiate wand—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Come, long-sought!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When I arose and saw the dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I sigh'd for thee:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When light rode high, and the dew was gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the weary Day turn'd to his rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lingering like an unloved guest,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I sigh'd for thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy brother Death came, and cried<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Wouldst thou me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmur'd like a noon-tide bee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall I nestle near thy side?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wouldst thou me?—And I replied<br /></span> +<span class="i6">No, not thee!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Death will come when thou art dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Soon, too soon—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep will come when thou art fled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of neither would I ask the boon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I ask of thee, beloved Night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift be thine approaching flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Come soon, soon!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Shelley.</span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">VI</p> + +<div class="poem">ODE TO A GRECIAN URN<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sylvan historian, who canst thus express<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of deities or mortals, or of both,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In Tempé or the dales of Arcady?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, happy melodist, unweariéd,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ever piping songs for ever new;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More happy love! more happy, happy love!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For ever panting, and for ever young;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All breathing human passion far above,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who are these coming to the sacrifice?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To what green altar, O mysterious priest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What little town by river or sea shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, little town, thy streets for evermore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Will silent be; and not a soul to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of marble men and maidens overwrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With forest branches and the trodden weed;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When old age shall this generation waste<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,"—that is all<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Keats.</span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></div></div> + +<p class="center">VII</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was a lover and his lass<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a hey and a ho, and a hey nonino!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That o'er the green corn-field did pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When birds do sing hey ding a ding:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet lovers love the Spring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Between the acres of the rye<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These pretty country folks would lie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This carol they began that hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How that life was but a flower:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And therefore take the present time<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a hey and a ho and a hey nonino!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For love is crownéd with the prime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In spring time, the only pretty ring time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When birds do sing hey ding a ding:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet lovers love the Spring.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">VIII</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Pack, clouds, away, and welcome day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With night we banish sorrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet air blow soft, mount larks aloft<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To give my Love good-morrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wings from the wind to please her mind<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Notes from the lark I'll borrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bird, prune thy wing, nightingale sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To give my Love good-morrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To give my Love good-morrow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Notes from them both I'll borrow.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wake from thy nest, Robin-red-breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sing, birds, in every furrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from each hill, let music shrill<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Give my fair Love good-morrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blackbird and thrush in every bush,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You pretty elves, amongst yourselves<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sing my fair Love good-morrow;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To give my Love good-morrow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sing, birds, in every furrow!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Heywood.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">IX</p> + +<div class="poem">THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Come live with me and be my Love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we will all the pleasures prove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hills and valleys, dale and field,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the craggy mountains yield.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There will we sit upon the rocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see the shepherds feed their flocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By shallow rivers, to whose falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Melodious birds sing madrigals.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There will I make thee beds of roses<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a thousand fragrant posies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A cap of flowers, and a kirtle<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A gown made of the finest wool,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which from our pretty lambs we pull,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair linéd slippers for the cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With buckles of the purest gold.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A belt of straw and ivy buds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With coral clasps and amber studs:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if these pleasures may thee move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come live with me and be my Love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thy silver dishes for thy meat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As precious as the gods do eat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall on an ivory table be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prepared each day for thee and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The shepherd swains shall dance and sing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thy delight each May-morning:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If these delights thy mind may move,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then live with me and be my Love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Marlowe.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">X</p> + +<div class="poem">HUNTING SONG<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the mountain dawns the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the jolly chase is here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With hawk and horse and hunting-spear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hounds are in their couples yelling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Merrily, merrily mingle they,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Waken, lords and ladies gay."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mist has left the mountain gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Springlets in the dawn are steaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Diamonds on the brake are gleaming;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span><span class="i0">And foresters have busy been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To track the buck in thicket green;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now we come to chant our lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Waken, lords and ladies gay."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the greenwood haste away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We can show you where he lies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fleet of foot and tall of size;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We can show the marks he made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shall see him brought to bay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Waken, lords and ladies gay."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Louder, louder chant the lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell them youth and mirth and glee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run a course as well as we;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stanch as hound and fleet as hawk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Think of this, and rise with day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gentle lords and ladies gay!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Scott.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">XI</p> + +<p>Besides the rivers Arve and Arveiron, +which have their sources in the foot of Mont +Blanc, five conspicuous torrents rush down +its sides; and within a few paces of the +Glaciers, the <i>Gentiana Major</i> grows in im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>mense +numbers, with its "flowers of loveliest +blue."</p> + +<div class="poem"><p>HYMN</p>BEFORE SUNRISE, IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNI<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his steep course? So long he seems to pause<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On thy bald awful head, O sovran Blanc!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Arve and Arveiron at thy base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How silently! Around thee and above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with a wedge! But when I look again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy habitation from eternity!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till thou, still present to the bodily sense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I worshiped the Invisible alone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sweet, we know not we are listening to it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, with my life and life's own secret joy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the dilating Soul, enrapt, transfused,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the mighty vision passing—there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As in her natural form, swelled vast to Heaven!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span><span class="i0">Awake, my Soul! not only passive praise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou owest! not alone these swelling tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mute thanks and secret ecstasy! Awake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Voice of sweet song! Awake, my Heart, awake!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou first and chief, sole sovran of the Vale!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O struggling with the darkness all the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And visited all night by troops of stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or when they climb the sky or when they sink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Companion of the morning-star at dawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thyself Earth's rosy star, and of the dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Co-herald: wake, O wake, and utter praise!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in Earth?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who filled thy countenance with rosy light?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who made thee parent of perpetual streams?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who called you forth from night and utter death,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From dark and icy caverns called you forth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down those precipitous, black, jagged Rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forever shattered and the same forever?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who gave you your invulnerable life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unceasing thunder and eternal foam?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who commanded (and the silence came),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here let the billows stiffen, and have rest?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adown enormous ravines slope amain—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span><span class="i0">Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Motionless torrents! silent cataracts!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the Sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God! sing ye meadow-streams with gladsome voice!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye eagles, play-mates of the mountain-storm!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye signs and wonders of the element!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Utter forth God, and fill the hills with praise!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou too, hoar Mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the depth of clouds that veil thy breast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou too again—stupendous Mountain! thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That as I raise my head, awhile bowed low<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +<span class="i0">In adoration, upward from thy base<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow traveling with dim eyes suffused with tears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solemnly seemest like a vapory cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rise before me—Rise, O ever rise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise like a cloud of incense, from the Earth!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou kingly Spirit throned among the hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou dread ambassador from Earth to Heaven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great hierarch! tell thou the silent sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Coleridge.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">XII</p> + +<div class="poem">JAUN'S SONG FROM THE SPANISH GYPSY<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Memory,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past compare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the land of Tubal?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Is it Spring's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lovely things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blossoms white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rosy dight?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then it is Pepita.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Summer's crest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red-gold tressed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Corn-flowers peeping under?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Idle noons,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lingering moons,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sudden cloud,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lightning's shroud,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sudden rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick again<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Smiles where late was thunder?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are all these<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made to please?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So too is Pepita.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Autumn's prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apple-time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smooth cheek round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heart all sound?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is it this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You would kiss?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then it is Pepita.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You can bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sweet thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still shall find<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It is my Pepita.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Memory<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Says to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is she—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past compare<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the land of Tubal.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">XIII</p> + +<div class="poem">PABLO'S SONG FROM THE SPANISH GYPSY<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spring comes hither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Buds the rose;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Roses wither,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet spring goes.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ojala, would she carry me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Summer soars—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wide-winged day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White light pours,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flies away.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ojala, would he carry me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soft winds blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Westward born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Onward go<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Toward the morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ojala, would they carry me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet birds sing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er the graves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then take wing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O'er the waves.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ojala, would they carry me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">George Eliot.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">XIV</p> + +<div class="poem">MEMORY<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My mind lets go a thousand things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like dates of wars and deaths of kings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet recalls the very hour—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas noon by yonder village tower,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And on the last blue noon in May—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind came briskly up this way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crisping the brook beside the road;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, pausing here, set down its load<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pine-scents, and shook listlessly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Two petals from that wild-rose-tree.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="center">XV</p> + +<div class="poem">ENAMOURED ARCHITECT OF AIRY RHYME<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Enamoured architect of airy rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Build as thou wilt; heed not what each man says:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Good souls, but innocent of dreamer's ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will come, and marvel why thou wastest time;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Others, beholding how thy turrets climb<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twixt theirs and heaven, will hate thee all thy days;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But most beware of those who come to praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Wondersmith, O Worker in sublime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Heaven-sent dreams, let art be all in all;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Build as thou wilt, unspoiled by praise or blame,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Build as thou wilt, and as thy light is given:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, if at last the airy structure fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dissolve, and vanish—take thyself no shame.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">They fail, and they alone, who have not striven.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Thomas Bailey Aldrich.</span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></div></div> + + +<p class="center">XVI</p> + +<div class="poem">LOVE IN THE WINDS<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When I am standing on a mountain crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or hold the tiller in the dashing spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My love of you leaps foaming in my breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shouts with the winds and sweeps to their foray;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart bounds with the horses of the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And plunges in the wild ride of the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flaunts in the teeth of tempest the large glee<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That rides out Fate and welcomes gods to fight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho, love, I laugh aloud for love of you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Glad that our love is fellow to rough weather,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No fretful orchid hot-housed from the dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But hale and hardy as the highland heather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rejoicing in the wind that stings and thrills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Comrades of ocean, playmate of the hills.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Richard Hovey.</span></p> +</div></div> + + +<p class="center">XVII</p> + +<div class="poem">CANDLEMAS<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O hearken, all ye little weeds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That lie beneath the snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(So low, dear hearts, in poverty so low!)<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The sun hath risen for royal deeds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A valiant wind the vanguard leads;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now quicken ye, lest unborn seeds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before ye rise and blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O furry living things, adream<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On Winter's drowsy breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(How rest ye there, how softly, safely rest!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Arise and follow where a gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wizard gold unbinds the stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the woodland windings seem<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With sweet expectance blest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My birds, come back! the hollow sky<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is weary for your note.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Sweet-throat, come back! O liquid, mellow throat!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere May's soft minions hereward fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shame on ye, laggards, to deny<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brooding breast, the sun-bright eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The tawny, shining coat!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Alice Brown.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p>Mr. Gilbert Chesterton tells us that the +real Robert Browning of literary history arrived +with the <i>Dramatic Lyrics</i>. "In Dramatic +Lyrics," says Mr. Chesterton, "Browning +discovered the one thing that he could +really do better than any one else—the +dramatic lyric. The form is absolutely original; +he had discovered a new field of poetry,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +and in the center of that field he had found +himself." The form is new, but it obeys the +fundamental law of lyric poetry, and so in +our study belongs to this chapter. The new +element which the word "dramatic" suggests +makes a new and a somewhat broader demand +upon the interpreter; therefore I have +chosen this group of <i>Dramatic Lyrics</i> from +Browning as the material for your final study +of this form:</p> + +<div class="poem">MY STAR<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All that I know<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a certain star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is, it can throw<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Like the angled spar)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now a dart of red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now a dart of blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till my friends have said<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They would fain see, too,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My star that dartles the red and the blue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then it stops like a bird; like a flower, hangs furled:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What matter to me if their star is a world?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><p>CAVALIER TUNES</p><br />MARCHING ALONG<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, pressing a troop unable to stoop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Marched them along, fifty-score strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">God for King Charles! Pym and such carles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till you're—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>(Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">England, good cheer! Rupert is near!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>(Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Hold by the right, you double your might;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>(Chorus) March we along, fifty-score strong,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><p>GARDEN FANCIES</p>THE FLOWER'S NAME<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here's the garden she walked across,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Arm in my arm, such a short while since.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hinders the hinges and makes them wince!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She must have reached this shrub ere she turned,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As back with that murmur the wicket swung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she laid the poor snail, my chance foot spurned,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To feed and forget it the leaves among.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Down this side of the gravel walk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She went while her robe's edge brushed the box:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And here she paused in her gracious talk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To point me a moth on the milk-white phlox.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Roses, ranged in valiant row,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I will never think that she passed you by!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She loves you, noble roses, I know;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But yonder, see, where the rock-plants lie!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This flower she stopped at, finger on lip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stooped over, in doubt, as settling its claim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till she gave me, with pride to make no slip,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its soft meandering Spanish name.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +<span class="i0">What a name! Was it love or praise?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Speech half-asleep or song half-awake?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must learn Spanish, one of these days,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Only for that slow sweet name's sake.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Roses, if I live and do well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I may bring her, one of these days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fix you fast with as fine a spell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fit you each with his Spanish phrase;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But do not detain me now; for she lingers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There, like sunshine over the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ever I see her soft white fingers<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Searching after the bud she found.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Flower, you Spaniard, look that you grow not,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stay as you are and be loved forever!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bud, if I kiss you 'tis that you blow not:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mind, the shut pink mouth opens never!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For while it pouts, her fingers wrestle,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twinkling the audacious leaves between,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till round they turn and down they nestle—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is not the dear mark still to be seen?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where I find her not, beauties vanish;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whither I follow her, beauties flee;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is there no method to tell her in Spanish<br /></span> +<span class="i2">June's twice June since she breathed it with me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come, bud, show me the least of her traces,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Treasure my lady's lightest footfall!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Ah, you may flout and turn up your faces—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Roses, you are not so fair after all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Browning.</span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>That "the poet is born, not made," is +more and more an undisputed fact in every +literary age. But many a birthright of poetic +power has been saved from sale for a mess +of pottage by a wisely ordered meeting +of the young bard, while his gift was still +latent, with the masters of lyric expression.</p> + +<p>Such an introduction is the object of this +study, so far as it can embrace in its aim the +ends of both forms of expression,—interpretation +and composition. There is no thought +of inducing even an aspirant to the <i>poetical +purple</i>, much less a Shelley or a Keats or an +Alice Brown, through this brief dwelling with +their immortal songs; but if this intensive +interpretative study of the highest lyric expression +does not result in a new sense of +word values, a new sensitiveness to the +music of the English language, out of which +the songs of America must be made, then +the study will have failed in its purpose +toward you. If from this suggestive analysis +of Shelley's "Skylark" you receive no impulse +to use words with a new delight in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +fitting of sound to sense, a new reverence for +their harmonious arrangement to suggest and +sustain an atmosphere; if, in short, your +vocabulary is not enriched and your choice +of words clarified through this study, then +your new acquaintance with lyric expression +will have been in vain. And, finally, if some +one of you at least is not impelled by these +excursions into the world of song to use +his enriched vocabulary in an attempt to +create a bit of lyric description in prose or +verse, then the author of this study, and the +teacher under whose direction it is made, +must admit a failure to reach with the pupil +the ultimate aim of such interpretative +effort.</p> + +<p>Let us make the test. As a final problem +of this study I shall ask you to let your +emotion find expression—lyric expression—in +a bit of prose description. Don't be +afraid! Use your vocabulary! Take as a +subject: the bit of earth and sky you have +secretly worshiped; the bird song or flight +which has charmed your day; the memory +of some illumined moment; the effect of any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +one of these lyrics upon you. Don't be +afraid! And remember it is to be literature +of <i>feeling</i> rather than thought; <i>description</i>, +not exposition.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THIRD_STUDY" id="THIRD_STUDY"></a>THIRD STUDY</h2> + +<h4>TO DEVELOP THE WHIMSICAL SENSE</h4> + + +<p>Addressing the <i>Gentle Reader</i> in deliciously +whimsical vein on the <i>Mission +of Humor</i>, Mr. Samuel Arthur Crothers declares: +"Were I appointed by the school +board to consider the applicants for teachers' +certificates, after they had passed the examinations +in the arts and sciences, I should +subject them to a more rigid test. I should +hand each candidate Lamb's essays on 'The +Old and New Schoolmaster' and on 'Imperfect +Sympathies.' I should make him read them +to himself, while I sat by and watched. If +his countenance never relaxed, as if he were +inwardly saying, 'That's so,' I should withhold +the certificate. I should not consider +him a fit person to have charge of innocent +youth." We can readily see from this e<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>xtract +that we need not go back to the early +part of the last century to find material for +our test of this sovereign quality, a sense +of humor. Mr. Crothers himself, the Charles +Lamb of our American Letters to-day, shall +furnish our subject-matter. Bring your +<i>Gentle Reader</i>, or <i>The Pardoner's Wallet</i>, or the +essays collected with the <i>Christmas Sermon</i>, +to class to-morrow. If these volumes are not +in your personal library, your library is sadly +lacking. Read "The Honorable Points of +Ignorance," "How to Know the Fallacies," +or "Conscience Concerning Witchcraft." If +any one of these fails to disclose in you the +mental alertness and power of discrimination +which their author considers to be requisite +characteristics of a true sense of humor, then +<i>you</i> are sadly lacking in that coveted quality +of mind and heart, and it behooves us to +make an attempt to supply these deficiencies.</p> + +<p>Can a sense of humor be cultivated, and if +it can be cultivated, is it safe to do so? some +one asks—some one who has suffered at the +hands of a clever jester perhaps. By way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +of arriving at an answer, let us examine a +little further the category of qualities which +Mr. Crothers considers requisite to true humor.</p> + +<p>We have already noted mental alertness +and power of discrimination. There can be +no question as to the desirability or feasibility +of developing these characteristics, +since such development belongs to the fundamental +effort of education. But these are +but two characteristics of the quality we +are considering, and not the distinguishing +ones. "Humor," continues the category, "is +the frank enjoyment of the imperfect." Now +we scent a danger! For if, as Mr. Crothers +admits, "artistic sensibility finds satisfaction +only in the perfect," and since, as we all +admit, artistic sensibility is an end in education +devoutly to be desired, then is not a +cultivation of the "frank enjoyment of the +imperfect," oh dear and gentle humorist, a +dangerous indulgence? The conclusive answer +comes: "One may have learned to enjoy +the sublime, the beautiful, the useful, +the orderly, but he has missed something if +he has not also learned to enjoy the incon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>gruous, +the illusive, and the unexpected." +It is a conclusive reply, because we know that +it is just as essential to achievement in the +finest of the Fine Arts,—the art of living, as +in every other form of Art, to recognize +that the inrush of discord is for the final issue +of harmony; that only through our ability +to recognize illusion shall we come to know +reality; that only through sensitiveness to +the incongruous shall we develop a true +sense of the fitness of things; that only frank +enjoyment can disarm imperfection and find +satisfaction in the perfect. So let us not +hesitate to do all we can to cultivate a quality +which Thackeray defines as a mixture of +love and wit; to which Erasmus ascribes such +desirable characteristics as good temper and +insight into human nature; and for one grade +of which, in addition to all its other qualities, +Mr. Crothers claims "that it can proceed only +from a mind free from any taint of morbidness."</p> + +<p>If then we conclude that it is not only safe, +but possible and desirable, to cultivate a sense +of humor, how shall we set about it? To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +answer you, as to one way at least, and that +a way of interpretation, Mr. Crothers "is +left alive," not only to furnish new material +for the exercise of the sense, but to point a +gently reminding finger toward the immortal +sources of good humor,—"Chaucer and Cervantes +and Montaigne; Shakespeare and +Bacon and Fielding and Addison; Goldsmith, +Charles Lamb, and Walter Scott, and in our +own country, Irving and Dr. Holmes and +James Russell Lowell." Whatever period +of time your schedule grants to this phase +of the work should be dedicated to a closer +acquaintance with the flavor and atmosphere +of these great-hearted humorists in their most +genial moments. Let us also heed Mr. +Crothers' warning against the humor of the +Dean Swifts which "would be so irresistible +were it not bad humor." Let us avoid more +intimate acquaintance with the broad variety +furnished by the Mark Twains and Mr. +Dooleys, which may be legitimately classed +as "good humor," but which is so obvious +as to be little conducive to that mental alertness +and power of discrimination which we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +aim to acquire through this study. Instead, +let us seek the gracious company of William +Dean Howells in the whimsical mood he so +often induces.</p> + +<p>Accepting, then, as a distinguishing characteristic +of the humor we desire to cultivate, +ability to enjoy the incongruous, the illusive, +and the unexpected, let us look to a master +maker of these conditions for class-room +guidance in this effort. I suppose Mr. Lewis +Carroll has done more to develop this distinguishing +characteristic than any other +contributor to our Letters. So we shall go +on an excursion with his <i>Alice</i> into the +<i>Wonderland</i> he made for her. If her frank +enjoyment and free acceptance of the incongruous +and the unexpected does not prove +infectious, we must be forever written down +among those who could not understand +<i>Peter Pan</i>. We shall read and enjoy a chapter +or two of <i>Alice</i> together in class, but for +suggestive analysis along interpretative lines +Heaven forbid that I should lay violent hands +on her text. No one can teach you to interpret +your <i>Alice</i> save Alice herself. You may<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +walk with her, talk with her, dwindle and +grow with her, join her adventures in any +way she will permit, but you may not analyze +nor dissect her. You may learn to interpret +her only by living with her and loving her.</p> + +<p>Now <i>Æsop</i> is another matter. However +long you may live with him, however much +you may love his fables, there is a trick of +interpretation to be learned in voicing his +philosophy which will develop the whimsical +side of your sense of humor and counteract +the insistent moral tone attached to every +fable.</p> + + +<h4>SUGGESTIVE ANALYSIS</h4> + +<p>The danger in handling a fable does not +lie, as the interpreter seems so often to think, +in adopting too serious a tone. All the literature +of pure fancy, from the humorous +essays of Bacon through the <i>Arabian Nights</i> +to the nonsensical rhymes of Lear, must be +treated with great gravity of tone and temper +by the interpreter. It is not levity, but +only whimsicality of temperament, I demand +from one who would read from this particu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>lar +lore to me. I want my whimsical friend +to interpret my Chaucer and Crothers, <i>Peter +Pan</i> and the <i>Pied Piper</i>, Hans Christian Andersen, +Carroll, and Lear, and all the rest +of the genial host who minister to my most +precious sense of nonsense. And, perhaps, +most of all, it is he (the whimsical friend) +who must read fables to me, for a fable, +the dictionary tells us, is "a story in which, +by the imagined dealings of men with animals +or mere things, or by the supposed +doings of these alone, useful lessons are +taught." Now a moral "rubbed in" is like +an overdose of certain kinds of medicine, +where a little cures, too much kills. It is +the presence of the <i>lesson</i> which the whimsical +tone alone can offset. The whimsical +tone never falls into the monotone. Whimsicality +always seeks variety of emphasis and +movement. Let us apply this to the reading +of the fable called</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>THE CROW AND THE PITCHER</p> + +<p>A crow, half dead with thirst, came upon a +pitcher which had once been full of water; but +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>when the crow put his beak into the mouth of +the pitcher he found that only very little water +was left in it, and that he could not reach far +enough down to get at it. He tried, and he +tried, but at last had to give up in despair. +Then a thought came to him, and he took a +pebble and dropped it into the pitcher. Then +he took another pebble and dropped it into the +pitcher. Then he took another pebble and +dropped that into the pitcher. Then he took +another pebble and dropped that into the +pitcher. Then he took another pebble and +dropped that into the pitcher. Then he took +another pebble and dropped that into the +pitcher. At last, at last, he saw the water +mount up near him; and after casting in a few +more pebbles he was able to quench his thirst +and save his life.</p> + +<p>Little by little does the trick.</p></div> + +<p>How shall we avoid the monotony of the +lines beginning "Then he took another pebble +and dropped it into the pitcher"? Note +that this line is followed by one in which +but two words are changed, and then by a +line with but one change, and then by three +lines with no change at all. Our only hope +lies in a variation of emphasis and movement—a +whimsical variation. Try it! Give "another" +the particular stress in reading the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +first of these lines. Pause at the close of the +line as if to study the effect of the pebble. +In the next line "that," of course, takes the +emphasis. Pause before the word and give +it a salient stress. The movement of the +voice through these two lines has been deliberate. +On the next line hasten it a little, +and make the pause at the close of the line +shorter. With the fourth line let the tone +settle down to work. Give each of the first +five words equal stress. With the fifth and +last line let us feel that you may "go on +forever," and surprise us with a very short +pause and a joyful stress upon "at last, at +last," and don't fail to let the enthusiasm of +your tone give us the full sense of the relief +which comes with the mounting of the water, +and the delight in the conclusion—"he was +able to quench his thirst and save his life." +And now, most whimsically, let us voice the +moral, "Little by little does the trick."</p> + + +<h4>SELECTIONS FOR INTERPRETATION</h4> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>THE LION AND THE MOUSE</p> + +<p>Once when a lion was asleep a little mouse +began running up and down upon him; this soon +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>wakened the lion, who placed his huge paw +upon him, and opened his big jaws to swallow +him. "Pardon, O King," cried the little mouse; +"forgive me this time. I shall never forget it; +who knows but what I may be able to do you a +turn some of these days?" The lion was so +tickled at the idea of the mouse being able to +help him, that he lifted up his paw and let him +go. Some time after the lion was caught in a +trap, and the hunters, who desired to carry him +alive to the king, tied him to a tree while they +went in search of a wagon to carry him on. +Just then the little mouse happened to pass by, +and seeing the sad plight in which the lion was, +went up to him and soon gnawed away the +ropes that bound the king of the beasts. "Was +I not right?" said the little mouse.</p> + +<p>Little friends may prove great friends.</p> + + +<p>THE WIND AND THE SUN</p> + +<p>The wind and the sun were disputing which +was the stronger. Suddenly they saw a traveler +coming down the road, and the sun said: "I +see a way to decide our dispute. Whichever of +us can cause that traveler to take off his cloak +shall be regarded as the stronger. You begin." +So the sun retired behind a cloud, and the wind +began to blow as hard as he could upon the +traveler. But the harder he blew the more +closely did the traveler wrap his cloak round +him, till at last the wind had to give up in +despair. Then the sun came out and shone in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>all his glory upon the traveler, who soon found +it too hot to walk with his cloak on.</p> + +<p>Kindness effects more than severity.</p></div> + +<p>And, now, here is Alice herself to play +with a little. Go fearlessly into her <i>Wonderland</i> +and let her teach you "how to meet +the illusive, the incongruous, and the unexpected." +Let her minister to your ability to +enjoy the imperfect. Let her develop your +<i>sense of humor</i>. If she cannot do so no one +can.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>DOWN THE RABBIT-HOLE<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p>Alice was beginning to get very tired of +sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having +nothing to do; once or twice she had peeped +into the book her sister was reading, but it had +no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is +the use of a book," thought Alice, "without +pictures or conversations?"</p> + +<p>So she was considering in her own mind (as +well as she could, for the hot day made her feel +very sleepy and stupid) whether the pleasure of +making a daisy-chain would be worth the +trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, +when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes +ran close by her.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> +<p>There was nothing so <i>very</i> remarkable in that; +nor did Alice think it so <i>very</i> much out of the +way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, "Oh dear! +Oh dear! I shall be too late!" (when she +thought it over afterward, it occurred to her +that she ought to have wondered at this, but +at the time it all seemed quite natural); but +when the Rabbit actually <i>took a watch out of +its waistcoat-pocket</i>, and looked at it, and then +hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed +across her mind that she had never before seen +a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a +watch to take out of it, and, burning with +curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and +fortunately was just in time to see it pop down +a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.</p> + +<p>In another moment down went Alice after it, +never once considering how in the world she +was to get out again.</p> + +<p>The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel +for some way, and then dipped suddenly down—so +suddenly that Alice had not a moment to +think about stopping herself before she found +herself falling down a very steep well.</p> + +<p>Either the well was very deep, or she fell very +slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went +down to look about her, and to wonder what +was going to happen next. First, she tried to +look down and make out what she was coming +to, but it was too dark to see anything; then +she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed +that they were filled with cupboards and bookshelves; +here and there she saw maps and pi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>ctures +hung upon pegs. She took down a jar +from one of the shelves as she passed; it was +labeled "ORANGE MARMALADE," but to her +great disappointment it was empty. She did +not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, +so managed to put it into one of the cupboards +as she fell past it.</p> + +<p>"Well!" thought Alice to herself. "After +such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of +tumbling down-stairs! How brave they'll all +think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything +about it, even if I fell off the top of the +house!" (Which was very likely true.)</p> + +<p>Down, down, down. Would the fall <i>never</i> +come to an end? "I wonder how many miles +I've fallen by this time?" she said, aloud. "I +must be getting somewhere near the center of +the earth. Let me see: that would be four +thousand miles down, I think—" (for, you see, +Alice had learned several things of this sort in +her lessons in the school-room, and though this +was not a <i>very</i> good opportunity for showing off +her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to +her, still it was good practice to say it over) "—yes, +that's about the right distance—but +then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've +got to?" (Alice had no idea what Latitude +was, or Longitude either, but thought they were +nice, grand words to say.)</p> + +<p>Presently she began again. "I wonder if I +shall fall right <i>through</i> the earth? How funny +it'll seem to come out among the people that +walk with their heads downward! The Antipa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>thies, +I think—" (she was rather glad there <i>was</i> +no one listening this time, as it didn't sound at +all the right word) "—but I shall have to ask +them what the name of the country is, you +know. 'Please, ma'am, is this New Zealand +or Australia?'" (and she tried to courtesy as +she spoke—fancy <i>courtesying</i> as you're falling +through the air! Do you think you could manage +it?) "And what an ignorant little girl +she'll think me! No, it'll never do to ask; +perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere."</p> + +<p>Down, down, down. There was nothing else to +do, so Alice soon began talking again. "Dinah'll +miss me very much to-night, I should think!" +(Dinah was the cat.) "I hope they'll remember +her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah, my +dear, I wish you were down here with me! +There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you +might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, +you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?" +And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and +went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of +way, "Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?" +and sometimes, "Do bats eat cats?" for, you +see, as she couldn't answer either question, it +didn't much matter which way she put it. She +felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun +to dream that she was walking hand in hand +with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, +"Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever +eat a bat?" when suddenly, thump! thump! +down she came upon a heap of dry leaves, and +the fall was over.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> +<p>Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up +on her feet in a moment. She looked up, but +it was all dark overhead; before her was another +long passage, and the White Rabbit was +still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not +a moment to be lost; away went Alice like the +wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it +turned a corner, "Oh my ears and whiskers, how +late it's getting!" She was close behind it +when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was +no longer to be seen; she found herself in a +long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of +lamps hanging from the roof.</p> + +<p>There were doors all round the hall, but they +were all locked; and when Alice had been all +the way down one side and up the other, trying +every door, she walked sadly down the middle, +wondering how she was ever to get out again.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged +table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing +on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice's first +thought was that it might belong to one of the +doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks +were too large or the key was too small, but at +any rate it would not open any of them. However, +the second time round she came upon a +low curtain she had not noticed before, and +behind it was a little door about fifteen inches +high. She tried the little golden key in the +lock, and to her great delight it fitted!</p> + +<p>Alice opened the door and found that it led +into a small passage, not much larger than a +rat-hole. She knelt down and looked along the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. +How she longed to get out of that dark hall, +and wander about among those beds of bright +flowers and those cool fountains, but she could +not even get her head through the doorway! +"And even if my head would go through," +thought poor Alice, "it would be of very little +use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I +could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, +if I only knew how to begin." For, you see, so +many out-of-the-way things had happened lately +that Alice had begun to think that very few +things indeed were really impossible.</p> + +<p>There seemed to be no use in waiting by the +little door, so she went back to the table, half +hoping she might find another key on it, or, at +any rate, a book of rules for shutting people up +like telescopes. This time she found a little +bottle on it ("which certainly was not here before," +said Alice), and round its neck a paper +label, with the words "DRINK ME" beautifully +printed on it in large letters.</p> + +<p>It was all very well to say "Drink me," but +the wise little Alice was not going to do <i>that</i> +in a hurry. "No, I'll look first," she said, "and +see whether it's marked '<i>poison</i>' or not"; for +she had read several nice little histories about +children who had got burned, and eaten up by +wild beasts, and many other unpleasant things, +all because they <i>would</i> not remember the simple +rules their friends had taught them: such as, +that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold +it too long; and that, if you cut your finger +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span><i>very</i> deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and +she had never forgotten that, if you drink +much from a bottle marked "<i>poison</i>," it is almost +certain to disagree with you, sooner or +later.</p> + +<p>However, this bottle was <i>not</i> marked "poison," +so Alice ventured to taste it, and, finding +it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed +flavor of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast +turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast), she very +soon finished it off.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"What a curious feeling!" said Alice. "I +must be shutting up like a telescope."</p> + +<p>And so it was, indeed: she was now only ten +inches high, and her face brightened up at the +thought that she was now the right size for +going through the little door into that lovely +garden. First, however, she waited for a few +minutes to see if she was going to shrink any +further: she felt a little nervous about this, +"for it might end, you know," said Alice, "in +my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder +what I should be like then?" And she tried +to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after +it is blown out, for she could not remember ever +having seen such a thing.</p> + +<p>After a while, finding that nothing more happened, +she decided to go into the garden at +once, but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to +the door she found she had forgotten the little +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>golden key, and when she went back to the +table for it she found she could not possibly reach +it. She could see it quite plainly through the +glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of +the table-legs, but it was too slippery; and +when she had tired herself out with trying, the +poor little thing sat down and cried.</p> + +<p>"Come, there's no use in crying like that!" +said Alice to herself, rather sharply. "I advise +you to leave off this minute!" She generally +gave herself very good advice (though she very +seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded +herself so severely as to bring tears in her eyes; +and once she remembered trying to box her own +ears for having cheated herself in a game of +croquet she was playing against herself, for this +curious child was very fond of pretending to be +two people. "But it's no use now," thought +poor Alice, "to pretend to be two people! Why, +there's hardly enough of me left to make <i>one</i> +respectable person!"</p> + +<p>Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that +was lying under the table. She opened it, and +found in it a very small cake, on which the +words "EAT ME" were beautifully marked in +currants. "Well, I'll eat it," said Alice, "and +if it makes me larger I can reach the key, and +if it makes me smaller I can creep under the +door; so, either way, I'll get into the garden, +and I don't care which happens!"</p> + +<p>She ate a little bit and said anxiously to herself, +"Which way? Which way?" holding her +hand on the top of her head to feel which way +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>it was growing, and she was quite surprised to +find that she remained the same size. To be +sure, this generally happens when one eats +cake, but Alice had got so much into the way +of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things +to happen that it seemed quite dull and stupid +for life to go on in the common way.</p> + +<p>So she set to work, and very soon finished off +the cake.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + +<p>THE POOL OF TEARS</p> + +<p>"Curiouser and curiouser!" cried Alice (she +was so much surprised that for the moment she +quite forgot how to speak good English); "now +I'm opening out like the largest telescope that +ever was! Good-by, feet!" (for when she +looked down at her feet they seemed to be almost +out of sight, they were getting so far off). +"Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put +on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? +I'm sure <i>I</i> sha'n't be able! I shall be a great +deal too far off to trouble myself about you: +you must manage the best way you can—but +I must be kind to them," thought Alice, "or +perhaps they won't walk the way I want to go! +Let me see; I'll give them a new pair of boots +every Christmas."</p> + +<p>And she went on planning to herself how she +would manage it. "They must go by the car<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>rier," +she thought; "and how funny it'll seem, +sending presents to one's own feet! And how +odd the directions will look!—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Alice's Right Foot, Esq.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>Hearthrug,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i18"><i>near the Fender</i><br /></span> +<span class="i26">(<i>with Alice's love</i>).<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking!"</p> + +<p>Just then her head struck against the roof of +the hall—in fact she was now more than nine +feet high—and she at once took up the little +golden key and hurried off to the garden door.</p> + +<p>Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, +lying down on one side, to look through into +the garden with one eye, but to get through +was more hopeless than ever. She sat down +and began to cry again.</p> + +<p>"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said +Alice—"a great girl like you" (she might well +say this), "to go on crying in this way! Stop +this moment, I tell you!" But she went on all +the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there +was a large pool all round her, about four inches +deep and reaching half down the hall.</p> + +<p>After a time she heard a little pattering of +feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her +eyes to see what was coming. It was the White +Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a +pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large +fan in the other. He came trotting along in a +great hurry, muttering to himself as he came, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>"Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won't she +be savage if I've kept her waiting!" Alice felt +so desperate that she was ready to ask help of +any one; so, when the Rabbit came near her, +she began, in a low, timid voice, "If you please, +sir—" The Rabbit started violently, dropped +the white kid gloves and the fan, and scurried +away into the darkness as hard as he could go.</p> + +<p>Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the +hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all +the time she went on talking: "Dear, dear! +How queer everything is to-day! And yesterday +things went on just as usual. I wonder if +I've been changed in the night? Let me think: +was I the same when I got up this morning? I +almost think I can remember feeling a little +different. But if I'm not the same, the next +question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, <i>that's</i> +the great puzzle!" And she began thinking +over all the children she knew that were of the +same age as herself, to see if she could have +been changed for any of them.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm not Ada," she said, "for her +hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't +go in ringlets at all; and I'm sure I can't be +Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she, +oh! she knows such a very little! Besides, <i>she's</i> +she and <i>I'm</i> I, and—oh dear, how puzzling it all +is! I'll try if I know all the things I used to +know. Let me see: four times five is twelve, +and four times six is thirteen, and four times +seven is—oh dear! I shall never get to twenty +at that rate! However, the Multiplication +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>Table doesn't signify: let's try Geography. +London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the +capital of Rome, and Rome—no, <i>that's</i> all +wrong, I'm certain! I must have been changed +for Mabel! I'll try and say '<i>How doth the +little—</i>'" and she crossed her hands on her lap +as if she were saying lessons, and began to +repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and +strange, and the words did not come the same +as they used to do:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How doth the little crocodile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Improve his shining tail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pour the waters of the Nile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On every golden scale!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How cheerfully he seems to grin,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How neatly spread his claws,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And welcomes little fishes in<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With gently smiling jaws!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I'm sure those are not the right words," +said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears +again as she went on: "I must be Mabel, after +all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky +little house, and have next to no toys to play +with, and oh! ever so many lessons to learn! +No, I've made up my mind about it; if I'm +Mabel, I'll stay down here! It'll be no use +their putting their heads down and saying, +'Come up again, dear!' I shall only look up +and say, 'Who am I, then? Tell me that first, +and then, if I like being that person, I'll come +up; if not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody +else.' But, oh dear!" cried Alice, with a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>sudden burst of tears, "I do wish they <i>would</i> +put their heads down! I am so <i>very</i> tired of +being all alone here!"</p> + +<p>As she said this she looked down at her hands, +and was surprised to see that she had put on +one of the Rabbit's little white kid gloves while +she was talking. "How <i>can</i> I have done that?" +she thought. "I must be growing small again." +She got up and went to the table to measure +herself by it, and found that, as nearly as she +could guess, she was now about two feet high, +and was going on shrinking rapidly. She soon +found out that the cause of this was the fan +she was holding, and she dropped it hastily, +just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether.</p> + +<p>"That <i>was</i> a narrow escape!" said Alice, a +good deal frightened at the sudden change, but +very glad to find herself still in existence; "and +now for the garden!" and she ran with all speed +back to the little door; but, alas! the little +door was shut again, and the little golden key +was lying on the glass table as before, "and +things are worse than ever," thought the poor +child, "for I never was so small as this before—never! +And I declare it's too bad, that it is!"</p> + +<p>As she said these words her foot slipped, and +in another moment, splash! she was up to her +chin in salt water. Her first idea was that she +had somehow fallen into the sea, "and in that +case I can go back by railway," she said to +herself. (Alice had been to the seaside once +in her life, and had come to the general conclusion +that wherever you go to on the English +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>coast you find a number of bathing-machines in +the sea, some children digging in the sand with +wooden spades, then a row of lodging-houses, +and behind them a railway station.) However, +she soon made out that she was in the pool of +tears which she had wept when she was nine +feet high.</p> + +<p>"I wish I hadn't cried so much!" said Alice, +as she swam about, trying to find her way out. +"I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by +being drowned in my own tears! That <i>will</i> be +a queer thing, to be sure! However, everything +is queer to-day."</p> + +<p>Just then she heard something splashing about +in the pool a little way off, and she swam nearer +to make out what it was. At first she thought +it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then +she remembered how small she was now, and +she soon made out that it was only a mouse that +had slipped in like herself.</p> + +<p>"Would it be of any use, now," thought Alice, +"to speak to this mouse? Everything is so out-of-the-way +down here that I should think very +likely it can talk; at any rate, there's no harm +in trying." So she began: "O Mouse, do you +know the way out of this pool? I am very tired +of swimming about here, O Mouse!" (Alice +thought this must be the right way of speaking +to a mouse. She had never done such a thing +before, but she remembered having seen in her +brother's Latin Grammar, "A mouse—of a +mouse—to a mouse—a mouse—O mouse!") +The Mouse looked at her rather inquisitively, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>and seemed to her to wink with one of its little +eyes, but it said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it doesn't understand English," +thought Alice; "I dare say it's a French mouse, +come over with William the Conqueror." (For +with all her knowledge of history, Alice had no +very clear notion how long ago anything had +happened.) So she began again: "Ou est ma +chatte?" which was the first sentence in her +French lesson-book. The Mouse gave a sudden +leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all +over with fright. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" +cried Alice, hastily, afraid that she had hurt +the poor animal's feelings. "I quite forgot +you didn't like cats."</p> + +<p>"Not like cats!" cried the Mouse, in a shrill, +passionate voice. "Would <i>you</i> like cats if you +were me?"</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps not," said Alice, in a soothing +tone. "Don't be angry about it. And yet +I wish I could show you our cat Dinah: I think +you'd take a fancy to cats if you could only +see her. She is such a dear, quiet thing," +Alice went on, half to herself, as she swam lazily +about in the pool, "and she sits purring so nicely +by the fire, licking her paws and washing her +face—and she is such a nice soft thing to nurse—and +she's such a capital one for catching +mice—oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Alice +again, for this time the Mouse was bristling all +over, and she felt certain it must be really +offended. "We won't talk about her any more, +if you'd rather not."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> +<p>"We, indeed!" cried the Mouse, who was +trembling down to the end of his tail. "As if +<i>I</i> would talk on such a subject! Our family +always <i>hated</i> cats—nasty, low, vulgar things! +Don't let me hear the name again!"</p> + +<p>"I won't, indeed!" said Alice, in a great +hurry to change the subject of conversation. +"Are you—are you fond—of—of dogs?" The +Mouse did not answer, so Alice went on eagerly: +"There is such a nice little dog near our house +I should like to show you! A little bright-eyed +terrier, you know, with oh, such long, curly +brown hair! And it'll fetch things when you +throw them, and it'll sit up and beg for its +dinner, and all sorts of things—I can't remember +half of them—and it belongs to a farmer, +you know, and he says it's so useful it's worth +a hundred pounds! He says it kills all the rats +and—oh dear!" cried Alice in a sorrowful tone, +"I'm afraid I've offended it again!" For the +Mouse was swimming away from her as hard as +it could go, and making quite a commotion in +the pool as it went.</p> + +<p>So she called softly after it, "Mouse dear! +Do come back again, and we won't talk about +cats, or dogs either, if you don't like them!" +When the Mouse heard this, it turned round and +swam slowly back to her. Its face was quite +pale (with passion, Alice thought), and it said +in a low, trembling voice, "Let us get to the +shore, and then I'll tell you my history, and +you'll understand why it is I hate cats and dogs."</p> + +<p>It was high time to go, for the pool was get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>ting +quite crowded with the birds and animals +that had fallen into it: there were a Duck and +a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several +other curious creatures. Alice led the way, +and the whole party swam to the shore.</p> + + +<div class="poem">THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sun was shining on the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shining with all his might;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did his very best to make<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The billows smooth and bright—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this was odd, because it was<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The middle of the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The moon was shining sulkily,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because she thought the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had got no business to be there<br /></span> +<span class="i2">After the day was done—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's very rude of him," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"To come and spoil the fun!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sea was wet as wet could be,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The sands were dry as dry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You could not see a cloud, because<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No cloud was in the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No birds were flying overhead—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There were no birds to fly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Walrus and the Carpenter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were walking close at hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They wept like anything to see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such quantities of sand—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +<span class="i0">"If this were only cleared away,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They said, "it would be grand!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If seven maids with seven mops<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Swept it for half a year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you suppose," the Walrus said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"That they could get it clear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shed a bitter tear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Walrus did beseech.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Along the briny beach;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We cannot do with more than four,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To give a hand to each."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eldest Oyster looked at him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But never a word he said;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eldest Oyster winked his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And shook his heavy head—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meaning to say he did not choose<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To leave the oyster-bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But four young Oysters hurried up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All eager for the treat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their shoes were clean and neat—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this was odd, because, you know,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They hadn't any feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four other Oysters followed them,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And yet another four;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And thick and fast they came at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And more, and more, and more—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All hopping through the frothy waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And scrambling to the shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Walrus and the Carpenter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Walked on a mile or so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then they rested on a rock<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Conveniently low—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the little Oysters stood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And waited in a row.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The time has come," the Walrus said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"To talk of many things:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of cabbages—and kings—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And why the sea is boiling hot—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And whether pigs have wings."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Before we have our chat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For some of us are out of breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And all of us are fat!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They thanked him much for that.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Is what we chiefly need;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pepper and vinegar besides<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Are very good indeed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We can begin to feed."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Turning a little blue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"After such kindness, that would be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A dismal thing to do!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The night is fine," the Walrus said.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Do you admire the view?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was so kind of you to come!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you are very nice!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Carpenter said nothing but,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Cut us another slice.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wish you were not quite so deaf—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I've had to ask you twice!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"To play them such a trick.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After we've brought them out so far,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And made them trot so quick!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Carpenter said nothing but,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"The butter's spread too thick!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I weep for you," the Walrus said;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"I deeply sympathize."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sobs and tears he sorted out<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Those of the largest size,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding his pocket-handkerchief<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Before his streaming eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"You've had a pleasant run!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall we be trotting home again?"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But answer came there none—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this was scarcely odd, because<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They'd eaten every one.<br /></span> +</div></div></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p>We must not deny to humor and fancy +the opportunity for creative effort offered to +other faculties in our previous studies. What +form shall the effort take: fable, fairy tale, +a whimsical play of fancy in essay, or merely +a nonsense rhyme? I think we must bar +the <i>limerick</i> from our serious creative efforts +in the study. You may engage as a class +in an extemporaneous contest in the making +of this infectious form of verse if you like.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, there is still another class-room +test of humor which should be made,—the +test of the clever anecdote. There is +nothing which so effectually discloses the +quality of your sense of humor as your attitude +toward so-called funny stories. Judgment +in such a case will rest upon three +points: What you think is "funny" enough +to tell; when you judge it "apropos" to tell; +and the manner of the telling. Three warnings +are in order at this point. If you find +that you must preface your anecdote with +the question too often heard, "Do you think +you can stand this story?—it really <i>is</i> +clever," in the name of clean humor, don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +tell it! If you find you must introduce your +anecdote with the remark, "Apropos of +nothing," or "This is not apropos, but"—in +the name of "sulphitic" humor, don't tell +it; finally, if you don't know <i>how</i> to tell it, +in the name of any and all humor, <i>don't tell +it</i>.</p> + +<p>With these cautions in mind, I shall ask +you to bring to class to-morrow your best +three "funny stories." Conflicting choice is +not likely to have appropriated all three of +your favorite anecdotes. Should you find +that it has done so, never mind. Your taste, +though it coincides with another's, can be +quite as well questioned or commended; and +the manner of your telling will be subjected +to trial by comparison, which, if not always +comfortable, is always helpful (<i>when met in +the right spirit</i>).</p> + +<p>Remember, the serious creative work you +are to produce is to take the form of a fable, +fairy story, or humorous essay.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FOURTH_STUDY" id="FOURTH_STUDY"></a>FOURTH STUDY</h2> + +<h4>TO DEVELOP IMAGINATIVE VIGOR</h4> + + +<p>In one of the great manufacturing towns +of the Northwest there are some twenty-five +thousand girls employed in factories. +The city permits conditions of work hostile +to the physical life of these girls. Civic reform +is trying to control these conditions. +In time it doubtless will succeed in doing so; +meanwhile it makes efforts in other directions. +It establishes working girls' clubs. +A class in literature in one of these clubs enlisted +the services of a comprehending young +teacher, who kept the girls interested for more +than two years. A little girl from a bag factory +entered this class. She came to every +meeting of the first year. She did not join +in the discussions nor ask questions nor evince +unusual intelligence or enjoyment, but she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +<i>came</i> every night. The class began its second +year. The little girl from the bag factory +was the first to enroll. The teacher could +not cover the surprise in her question, "Are +you coming into the class again?" The girl's +breathless "Oh yes" sent her to investigate +the case. She went to the factory. She +found the child standing at a bench folding +bags. Eight hours a day she folded bags. +A swing back on her right foot with the stuff +of which the bag was made grasped in her +hands—a swing forward, and her hands +brought the edges of the stuff together evenly. +Over and over a thousand times the single +motion repeated made up the girl's day. +"It used to make me tired," she said, simply. +"But it doesn't any more?" "No, because +now I forget what I am doing sometimes. +I have my book, you see. They let me fasten +it here." There it was—a paper copy of +Shelley's poems. The print was good; the +teacher had seen to that. She had observed +that factory girls' eyes are not always very +strong. The book was fastened to the front +of the desk. The child could catch a line<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +from time to time without interrupting her +bag-folding. "But I know most of the +poems we have studied in class by heart." +So she had to recall but a line, and then off +she would go through the windows of the +stifling factory into the open fields on the +wings of her <i>imagination</i>. She was a swift, +sure, little workman; her eye watched the +stuff before her and measured it truly; her +hands obeyed her eye, did her work efficiently, +and "kept her job." But the eye of her +imagination had been opened in the literature +class and kept her soul alive in spite +"of her job." This is a true story. It has +significance for you and me.</p> + +<p>If through the use of her imagination a +little factory girl can escape from the monotony +of bag-folding, and find freedom and +joy in the lyric world Shelley has created, +what limit need be set to our emancipation +through the development of this faculty?</p> + +<p>But emancipation is but one result of such +development. Listen to David as he stands +with his harp before the King in Browning's +story of <i>Saul</i>. Already his song has released<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +the monarch from the depths of his great +despair, but now comes the boy's cry:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">What spell or what charm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(For, awhile there was trouble within me) what next should I urge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To sustain him where song had restored him?...<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then fancies grew rife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which had come long ago on the pasture, when round me the sheep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fed in silence—above, the one eagle wheeled slow as in sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I lay in my hollow and mused on the world that might lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Neath his ken, though I saw but the strip 'twixt the hill and the sky:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I laughed—"Since my days are ordained to be passed with my flocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me people at least, with my fancies, the plains and the rocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dream the life I am never to mix with, and image the show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of mankind as they live in those fashions I hardly shall know!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Schemes of life, its best rules and right uses, the courage that gains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the prudence that keeps what men strive for."<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And now those old trains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of vague thought came again; I grew surer; so, once more the string<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of my harp made response to my spirit....<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>So the imagination of the young shepherd +boy had not only disregarded the limits of +his actual environment and escaped in fancy +to the great world beyond, but so vividly had +he realized that world <i>through his imagination</i> +that his sympathies had been made broad +to comprehend a monarch's need and his +song potent to meet it. Experience alone +gives comprehension. We are prone to +think that experience is limited by our actual +horizon. We need to know that experience +has no limit save that which is set by the +limit of our imaginative insight. No door +of life is closed to the imaginative mind and +heart. The world is its playground to wander +in at will. Experience, and thorough +experience, comprehension of life is at the +command of <i>imagination</i>.</p> + +<p>Life can be intelligently apprehended on +the material plane through trained senses. +Life can be vividly realized on the spirit's +plane only through a trained imagination. +It is only vivid realization of life at every +point which makes it worth living. You +may see the lark long after he is lost to my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +duller eye in our common sky, you may +hear the song when my less keen ear no +longer catches a faintest thread of melody; +but unless the eye and ear of your imagination +match mine you shall not <i>vividly realize</i> +flight or song, and so I shall follow both long +after they are lost to you. Your skylark will +pass with the moment of his rapturous song-flight, +while mine shall remain forever a +spirit of joy to be recalled at will for my +spirit's refreshing.</p> + +<p>Looking then upon imagination as a key +to that comprehension of life which clarifies +and constitutes its worth, let us eagerly enter +upon the cultivation of such power. We +have left this question of imaginative development +as a definite exercise to a fifth +place in our interpretative study, not because +it is less vital to effective expression +than the first four subjects we have considered, +but because <i>balanced expression</i> is +our aim, and imagination once given free play +may easily impair that harmonious development +of all our faculties which makes for +balance in expression. Of course there is no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +phase of the study of interpretation which, +when rightly conducted, does not indirectly +or directly involve the training of the imagination. +On the other hand, training of +the imagination wisely conducted may comprehend +and carry on development along +all other lines of evolution in expression. +A sensitive imagination trained and controlled +to its highest power of apprehension +must make for sympathy and intelligence in +thought and feeling, keep humor sane, and +give direction to purpose. But imaginative +vigor set free to the uses of thought and +emotion <i>already</i> disciplined, to <i>conscious</i> purpose +and to <i>good</i> humor, becomes a safe +master of expressive living.</p> + +<p>The material through which we are to +exercise the imagination and develop imaginative +vigor is the narrative form of discourse. +Narration is successful when it +records or has the effect of recording actual +experience. A story (according to the authority +we so often invoke,—Mr. Gardiner), +"whether it be as simple as those of the +Book of Genesis or as complex as Mr. James<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +or Mr. Meredith, must carry the effect of the +concreteness, and, as it were, the solidity of +life." The plot, the characters, the setting +of a story <i>which is to live</i>, must have the +vividness of real experience. This does not +mean that the creator of the story must have +actually experienced the plot, the people, and +the pictures which together make up his tale—they +may be the product of actual experience +or of imagination—but it does mean +that while he is putting these elements together +and creating his narrative he must +realize <i>as though it were actual experience</i> the +incident of his plot with the characters and +in the atmosphere of his creation. Such +realization can only come through vivid imagination.</p> + +<p>Exactly the same demand is made upon +the imagination of the interpreter. When +you retell the tale of a master creator of +stories your interpretation will be convincing, +exactly as was his creation,—through +the lucid play of a vivid imagination. You +must make me feel that I am in the presence +of incidents, characters, pictures which you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +yourself have experienced. Nay, more, you +must make me feel that I myself am actually +meeting these people, seeing these pictures, +taking part in these incidents, as you relive +for me <i>in imagination</i> at the moment of your +interpretation the tale you are retelling to +me.</p> + + +<h4>SUGGESTIVE ANALYSIS</h4> + +<p>We shall use for suggestive analysis in this +study not a complete specimen of narration, +but several examples illustrating two of the +three elements necessary to the personnel of +a good story. These three recognized elements +are the setting or situation which the +pictures compose, the atmosphere which the +characters create, and the plot or the action +in which the characters engage. We shall +leave the question of the plot to class work +upon the selections from epic poetry to be +considered later in this study.</p> + +<p>Suppose we test our imaginations in the +analysis of a situation or setting before we +attempt a character study. Remember the +situation is to be realized through imagina<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>tion +as though it were actual experience. It +is to be <i>recreated</i>. Give your imagination +full play in this opening chapter of George +Eliot's <i>Mill on the Floss</i>. Let us read the +first sentence:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A wide plain, where the broadening Floss +hurries on between its green banks to the sea, +and the loving tide, rushing to meet it, checks +its passage with an impetuous embrace.</p></div> + +<p>Can you see and feel the elements of this +picture! You have never experienced a tide +river? Never mind! There is enough in +the picture which <i>is</i> familiar to your actual +senses through experience to brace your +imagination for a grasp of the unfamiliar +elements. The wide plain, the river hurrying +between green banks—no apperceptive +background fails thus far in the picture. +What do we mean by apperceptive background? +Let us investigate for a moment +the psychology involved in the art of +"making pictures." Let us get back of this +word-picture. Rather let us stay this side +of it. Look at the page before you not with +the inner eye of your imagination, but with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +the outer eye—the eye which is merely the +organ of the sense of sight. Use your eye +as a physical sense only. What does your +eye carry to your mind when you look at this +page? "Black letters grouped into words on +a white surface." Did you get all these qualities +at once? Yes, because you have seen other +printed pages. Can you wipe out of your mind +your knowledge of paper, print, and words? +Can you imagine looking on such a page +as this for the first time—<i>perceiving</i> it for +the first time? If you can do this you will +arrive at an understanding of apperceptive +background through its elimination. You +will realize, that all that is in the back of +your mind, stored there by its previous acquaintance +with other printed pages, makes +up the apperceptive background by which +you get a conception of this page. That +conception comes first through your physical +sense of sight. You may perceive also +through touch, through feeling, for instance, +the quality of paper. But all that you perceive +in this initial process,—the stimulus +which comes through the physical senses,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +yields little to the complete conception as +compared with the yield of your so-called +<i>mental senses</i>. It is when you have fully +apperceived the object that your conception +is complete. It is when you have brought +to bear upon this page (still looked upon, +remember, merely as a printed page regardless +of the matter behind the print) all your +previous knowledge,—it is when you have +observed that the paper is of good quality, +that the page is closely set, that the print +is excellent, that the margin is wide,—it is +when you have compared it in memory with +other pages in other books,—it is when you +have not only perceived but <i>ap</i>perceived it +that you have really gained a conception of +it. Of course, if you are a type-setter, or a +proof-reader, or a printer, or an editor, or +one connected with book-making in any +least or last capacity, you will see a printed +page quite lost to me, because your apperceptive +background will outmatch mine as +to paper, print, margin, and type. Good! +I yield to you from type-setter to editor! But +I challenge you to another contest over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +same page. Match with me now conceptions +gained from another view of this same printed +matter. Forget now type, paper, margins, +and words—yes, forget the words as printed +words—look back of them with me. What +do you see now on the page? Still words? +Look behind them at the pictures! Now, +what do you see? "A wide plain, a river, +green banks, the sea!" Yes, but I see more +than that! And you do, too? "The river +flows between green banks?" You have missed +a point. How does she flow? Ah, yes, +"She hurries on." Where? "To the sea!" +Yes! And what meets her? "The tide!" +Yes, the loving tide meets her! But how? +"Rushing, he checks her passage in an impetuous +embrace!" "You <i>see</i> all this!" you +say. Yes, but do you hear it, smell it, taste +it, feel it? Are you, too, caught up in that +impetuous embrace? No? Ah, then your +imagination is only half awake. No, it is +not a question of background or actual experience +now. There are enough familiar +elements, as I have said before, to rouse your +senses to <i>vividly realize</i> the picture as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +whole if you will not shut the door to such +realization—that door is your imagination. +Open it! Open it! Now I shall close the +book and ask the class to do likewise, while +you read once more <i>to us</i> these first sentences, +paint for us this picture. Yes, now you are +using your imagination to stimulate my +senses and awake my imagination, but you +must take heed. You must let me enjoy +this picture as a whole. You must let me +see, feel, taste, smell, all "in the same +breath." Remember it is a picture. Don't +disregard its perspective. Let all the elements +rest in proper relation one to another +and to the whole—as George Eliot placed +them when she made the setting. The atmosphere +is on the whole full of peace. The +river "hurries," <i>but</i> the "plain is wide"; +the tide "rushes," but it is a "<i>loving</i> tide," +even though its embrace be "impetuous." +Try it once more! Is there not the joy of +creation in such interpretation? Let us read +on! You read to us still.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>On this mighty tide the black ships—laden +with the fresh-scented fir-planks, with rounded +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>sacks of oil-bearing seed, or with dark glitter +of coal—are borne along to the town of St. Ogg's, +which shows its aged, fluted red roofs and the +broad gables of its wharves between the low +wooded hill and the river-brink, tingeing the +water with a soft purple hue under the transient +glance of this February sun. Far away on each +hand stretch the rich pastures and the patches +of dark earth, made ready for the seed of broad-leaved, +green crops, or touched already with the +tint of the tender-bladed autumn-sown corn. +There is a remnant still of the last year's golden +clusters of beehive ricks rising at intervals beyond +the hedgerows; and everywhere the hedgerows +are studded with trees: the distant ships +seem to be lifting their masts and stretching +their red-brown sails close among the branches +of the spreading ash. Just by the red-roofed +town the tributary Ripple flows with a lively +current into the Floss. How lovely the little +river is, with its dark, changing wavelets! It +seems to me like a living companion while I +wander along the bank and listen to its low, +placid voice, as to the voice of one who is dear +and loving. I remember these large, dipping +willows. I remember the stone bridge.</p> + +<p>And this is Dorlcote Mill. I must stand a +minute or two here on the bridge and look at +it, though the clouds are threatening, and it is +far on in the afternoon. Even in this leafless +time of departing February it is pleasant to +look at—perhaps the chill, damp season adds +a charm to the trimly kept, comfortable dwell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>ing-house, +as old as the elms and chestnuts that +shelter it from the northern blast. The stream +is brimful now, and lies high in this little withy +plantation, and half drowns the grassy fringe +of the croft in front of the house. As I look +at the full stream, the vivid grass, the delicate +bright-green powder softening the outline of +the great trunks and branches that gleam from +under the bare purple boughs, I am in love +with moistness, and envy the white ducks that +are dipping their heads far into the water here +among the withes, unmindful of the awkward +appearance they make in the drier world +above.</p> + +<p>The rush of the water and the booming of the +mill bring a dreamy deafness, which seems to +heighten the peacefulness of the scene. They +are like a grand curtain of sound, shutting one +out from the world beyond. And now there is +the thunder of the huge covered wagon coming +home with sacks of grain. That honest wagoner +is thinking of his dinner, getting sadly dry in +the oven at this late hour; but he will not touch +it till he has fed his horses—the strong, submissive, +meek-eyed beasts, who, I fancy, are +looking mild reproach at him from between +their blinkers, that he should crack his whip +at them in that awful manner, as if they needed +that hint! See how they stretch their shoulders +up the slope toward the bridge, with all the +more energy because they are so near home! +Look at their grand shaggy feet, that seem to +grasp the firm earth, at the patient strength of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>their neck, bowed under the heavy collar, at the +mighty muscles of their struggling haunches! +I should like well to hear them neigh over their +hardly earned feed of corn, and see them, with +their moist necks freed from the harness, dipping +their eager nostrils into the muddy pond. +Now they are on the bridge, and down they go +again at a swifter pace, and the arch of the covered +wagon disappears at the turning behind +the trees.</p> + +<p>Now I can turn my eyes toward the mill +again, and watch the unresting wheel sending +out its diamond jets of water. That little girl +is watching it too: she has been standing on +just the same spot at the edge of the water ever +since I paused on the bridge. And that queer +white cur with the brown ear seems to be leaping +and barking in ineffectual remonstrance with the +wheel; perhaps he is jealous, because his playfellow +in the beaver bonnet is so rapt in its +movement. It is time the little playfellow +went in, I think; and there is a very bright fire +to tempt her: the red light shines out under +the deepening gray of the sky. It is time, too, +for me to leave off resting my arms on the cold +stone of this bridge.</p> + +<p>Ah, my arms are really benumbed. I have +been pressing my elbows on the arms of my +chair and dreaming that I was standing on the +bridge in front of Dorlcote Mill, as it looked one +February afternoon many years ago. Before I +dozed off, I was going to tell you what Mr. and +Mrs. Tulliver were talking about as they sat +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>by the bright fire in the left-hand parlor on that +very afternoon I have been dreaming of.</p></div> + +<p>If, in your interpretation of this passage, +a sensitive imagination free, but controlled +by vital thought and intelligent feeling, has +found in trained instruments a lucid channel +for expression, then, at the close of your +reading, <i>we</i>, your auditors, shall find our +arms really benumbed from pressing our elbows +on the arms of our chairs as we dream +with you that we are standing on the bridge +in front of Dorlcote Mill—the Mill on the +Floss, which we find on awakening is but the +title and setting of a great author's great +story.</p> + +<p>We turn now to the second element of +Narration—the <i>characters</i>. The setting we +have just analyzed has introduced us to the +main characters of a great story. Our interest +is already awake to the little girl who +has been watching with us the unresting +wheel of the mill. Why not take Maggie +Tulliver for our character study? To follow +Maggie but a little way is to find Tom. +This is well for us, because we need to study<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +both types. Let us read from the chapter +called "Tom Comes Home" in the life of the +boy and girl.</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>TOM COMES HOME</p><p>Tom was to arrive early in the afternoon, and +there was another fluttering heart besides Maggie's +when it was late enough for the sound of +the gig-wheels to be expected; for if Mrs. +Tulliver had a strong feeling, it was fondness +for her boy. At last the sound came—that +quick light bowling of the gig-wheels—and in +spite of the wind, which was blowing the clouds +about, and was not likely to respect Mrs. Tulliver's +curls and cap-strings, she came outside the +door, and even held her hand on Maggie's +offending head, forgetting all the griefs of the +morning.</p> + +<p>"There he is, my sweet lad! But Lord ha' +mercy! he's got never a collar on; it's been lost +on the road, I'll be bound, and spoiled the set."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Tulliver stood with her arms open; +Maggie jumped first on one leg and then on the +other; while Tom descended from the gig, and +said, with masculine reticence as to the tender +emotions, "Hallo! Yap—what! are you there?"</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he submitted to be kissed willingly +enough, though Maggie hung on his neck +in rather a strangling fashion, while his blue-gray +eyes wandered toward the croft and the +lambs and the river, where he promised himself +that he would begin to fish the first thing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>to-morrow morning. He was one of those lads +that grow everywhere in England and at +twelve or thirteen years of age look as much +alike as goslings—a lad with light-brown hair, +cheeks of cream and roses, full lips, indeterminate +nose and eyebrows—a physiognomy in +which it seems impossible to discern anything +but the generic character of boyhood; as different +as possible from poor Maggie's phiz, which +Nature seemed to have molded and colored +with the most decided intention. But that +same Nature has the deep cunning which hides +itself under the appearance of openness, so that +simple people think they can see through her +quite well, and all the while she is secretly preparing +a refutation of their confident prophecies. +Under these average boyish physiognomies that +she seems to turn off by the gross, she conceals +some of her most rigid, inflexible purposes, some +of her most unmodifiable characters; and the +dark-eyed, demonstrative, rebellious girl may +after all turn out to be a passive being compared +with this pink-and-white bit of masculinity with +the indeterminate features.</p> + +<p>"Maggie," said Tom, confidentially, taking +her into a corner as soon as his mother was gone +out to examine his box, and the warm parlor +had taken off the chill he had felt from the long +drive, "you don't know what I've got in <i>my</i> +pockets," nodding his head up and down as a +means of rousing her sense of mystery.</p> + +<p>"No," said Maggie. "How stodgy they look, +Tom! Is it marls (marbles) or cobnuts?" +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>Maggie's heart sank a little, because Tom always +said it was "no good" playing with <i>her</i> +at those games—she played so badly.</p> + +<p>"Marls! no; I've swopped all my marls with +the little fellows, and cobnuts are no fun, you +silly, only when the nuts are green. But see +here!" He drew something half out of his right-hand +pocket.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said Maggie, in a whisper. "I +can see nothing but a bit of yellow."</p> + +<p>"Why, it's ... a ... new ... guess, Maggie."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I <i>can't</i> guess, Tom," said Maggie, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a spitfire, else I won't tell you," +said Tom, thrusting his hand back into his +pocket and looking determined.</p> + +<p>"No, Tom," said Maggie, imploringly, laying +hold of the arm that was held stiffly in the +pocket. "I'm not cross, Tom; it was only because +I can't bear guessing. <i>Please</i> be good to +me."</p> + +<p>Tom's arm slowly relaxed, and he said, "Well, +then, it's a new fish-line—two new uns—one for +you, Maggie, all to yourself. I wouldn't go +halves in the toffee and ginger-bread on purpose +to save the money; Gibson and Spouncer fought +with me because I wouldn't. And here's hooks—see +here! I say, <i>won't</i> we go and fish to-morrow +down by Round Pool? And you shall +catch your own fish, Maggie, and put the worms +on, and everything—won't it be fun?"</p> + +<p>Maggie's answer was to throw her arms +around Tom's neck and hug him, and hold her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>cheek against his without speaking, while he +slowly unwound some line, saying, after a pause:</p> + +<p>"Wasn't I a good brother, now, to buy you a +line all to yourself? You know, I needn't have +bought it if I hadn't liked."</p> + +<p>"Yes, very, very good. I <i>do</i> love you, Tom."</p> + +<p>Tom had put the line back in his pocket, and +was looking at the hooks one by one, before he +spoke again.</p> + +<p>"And the fellows fought me because I wouldn't +give in about the toffee."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! I wish they wouldn't fight at +your school, Tom. Didn't it hurt you?"</p> + +<p>"Hurt me? no," said Tom, putting up the +hooks again, taking out a large pocket-knife, +and slowly opening the largest blade, which he +looked at meditatively as he rubbed his finger +along it. Then he added:</p> + +<p>"I gave Spouncer a black eye, I know—that's +what he got by wanting to leather <i>me</i>; I wasn't +going to go halves because anybody leathered +me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how brave you are, Tom! I think +you're like Samson. If there came a lion roaring +at me, I think you'd fight him—wouldn't +you, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"How can a lion come roaring at you, you +silly thing? There's no lions only in the shows."</p> + +<p>"No; but if we were in the lion countries—I +mean, in Africa, where it's very hot—the lions +eat people there. I can show it to you in the +book where I read it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should get a gun and shoot him."</p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +<p>"But if you hadn't got a gun—we might have +gone out, you know, not thinking, just as we +go fishing; and then a great lion might run toward +us roaring, and we couldn't get away from +him. What should you do, Tom?"</p> + +<p>Tom paused, and at last turned away contemptuously, +saying: "But the lion <i>isn't</i> coming. +What's the use of talking?"</p> + +<p>"But I like to fancy how it would be," said +Maggie, following him. "Just think what you +would do, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't bother, Maggie! you're such a +silly—I shall go and see my rabbits."</p> + +<p>Maggie's heart began to flutter with fear. +She dared not tell the sad truth at once, but she +walked after Tom in trembling silence as he +went out, thinking how she could tell him the +news so as to soften at once his sorrow and +anger; for Maggie dreaded Tom's anger of all +things—it was quite a different anger from her +own.</p> + +<p>"Tom," she said, timidly, when they were +out-of-doors, "how much money did you give +for your rabbits?"</p> + +<p>"Two half-crowns and a sixpence," said Tom, +promptly.</p> + +<p>"I think I've got a great deal more than that +in my steel purse up-stairs. I'll ask mother to +give it you."</p> + +<p>"What for?" said Tom. "I don't want <i>your</i> +money, you silly thing. I've got a great deal +more money than you, because I'm a boy. I +always have half-sovereigns and sovereigns for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>my Christmas boxes, because I shall be a man, +and you only have five-shilling pieces, because +you're only a girl."</p> + +<p>"Well, but, Tom—if mother would let me +give you two half-crowns and a sixpence out of +my purse to put into your pocket to spend, +you know, and buy some more rabbits with +it?"</p> + +<p>"More rabbits? I don't want any more."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but, Tom, they're all dead."</p> + +<p>Tom stopped immediately in his walk and +turned round toward Maggie. "You forgot to +feed 'em, then, and Harry forgot?" he said, his +color heightening for a moment, but soon subsiding. +"I'll pitch into Harry—I'll have him +turned away. And I don't love you, Maggie. +You sha'n't go fishing with me to-morrow. +I told you to go and see the rabbits every day." +He walked on again.</p> + +<p>"Yes. But I forgot—and I couldn't help it, +indeed, Tom. I'm so very sorry," said Maggie, +while the tears rushed fast.</p> + +<p>"You're a naughty girl," said Tom, severely, +"and I'm sorry I bought you the fish-line. I +don't love you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tom, it's very cruel," sobbed Maggie. +"I'd forgive you if <i>you</i> forgot anything—I +wouldn't mind what you did—I'd forgive you +and love you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you're a silly; but I never <i>do</i> forget +things—<i>I</i> don't."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please forgive me, Tom; my heart will +break," said Maggie, shaking with sobs, clinging +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>to Tom's arm, and laying her wet cheek on his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>Tom shook her off, and stopped again, saying +in a peremptory tone: "Now, Maggie, you just +listen. Aren't I a good brother to you?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-ye-es," sobbed Maggie, her chin rising +and falling convulsively.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I think about your fish-line all this +quarter, and mean to buy it, and saved my +money o' purpose, and wouldn't go halves in +the toffee, and Spouncer fought me because I +wouldn't?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-ye-es ... and I ... lo-lo-love you so, +Tom."</p> + +<p>"But you're a naughty girl. Last holidays +you licked the paint off my lozenge-box, and the +holidays before that you let the boat drag my +fish-line down when I set you to watch it, and +you pushed your head through my kite, all for +nothing."</p> + +<p>"But I didn't mean," said Maggie; "I couldn't +help it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you could," said Tom, "if you'd minded +what you were doing. And you're a naughty +girl, and you sha'n't go fishing with me to-morrow."</p> + +<p>With this terrible conclusion, Tom ran away +from Maggie toward the mill, meaning to greet +Luke there, and complain to him of Harry.</p> + +<p>Maggie stood motionless, except from her sobs, +for a minute or two; then she turned round and +ran into the house, and up to her attic, where +she sat on the floor, and laid her head against +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>the worm-eaten shelf, with a crushing sense of +misery. Tom was come home, and she had +thought how happy she should be—and now he +was cruel to her. What use was anything, if +Tom didn't love her? Oh, he was very cruel! +Hadn't she wanted to give him the money, and +said how very sorry she was? She knew she +was naughty to her mother, but she had never +been naughty to Tom—had never <i>meant</i> to be +naughty to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he is cruel!" Maggie sobbed aloud, finding +a wretched pleasure in the hollow resonance +that came through the long empty space of the +attic. She never thought of beating or grinding +her Fetish; she was too miserable to be angry.</p> + +<p>These bitter sorrows of childhood! when sorrow +is all new and strange, when hope has not +yet got wings to fly beyond the days and weeks, +and the space from summer to summer seems +measureless.</p></div> + +<p>This text furnishes an easier exercise in +interpretation, does it not? It does not require +a great stretch of imagination to slip +back five, ten, a dozen years to play with +these children. But I cannot let you <i>play</i> +with them. We want to meet and know +them. The task for your imagination is not +so simple as you think. It is called upon to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>engage in character interpretation. You +cannot be allowed to merely watch Maggie +and Tom play, or even to play with them. +You must use your imagination to get inside +the minds, hearts, souls of this boy and girl +and reveal them to us. You must relive this +scene for us, becoming first Maggie and then +Tom. This exercise of your imagination belongs +in its final and complete stage to the +next and last of our studies, and to work +on the drama; so we shall not demand too +much of you along this line here, and I shall +confine my suggestive analysis of the text +to the following questions:</p> + +<p>Define the relation existing between this +brother and sister indicated by this scene.</p> + +<p>Is this scene typical of their relation?</p> + +<p>Is it a relation likely to obtain throughout +their lives? Why?</p> + +<p>Define the dispositions of these two children +by applying to each three adjectives.</p> + +<p>Will Maggie or Tom make the sacrifices +inevitable to such a relation?</p> + +<p>Characterize as to inflection and tone-color +Maggie's voice and Tom's. (If your +use of this book has been intelligently di<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>rected +you have already made a study of +these two elements of a vocal vocabulary—<i>inflection</i> +and <i>tone-color</i>.)</p> + +<p>Answer these questions and re-read the scene.</p> + + +<h4>SELECTIONS FOR INTERPRETATION</h4> + +<p>The following selections were chosen for +this study with a double concern in the +choice,—concern for the development of +imaginative vigor in vocal interpretation; +concern for the development of a sense of +plot in narrative composition. The demand +upon the interpreter of any of these poems, +for sensitive progressive play of imagination, +in carrying an auditor through a series of +events up to a critical issue, cannot fail to +develop, with imaginative vigor, a new sensitiveness +of creative instinct to the third +element in narrative,—action.</p> + +<p>Your imagination given free play can no +more carry the "good news" from Ghent to +Aix on this wild ride, and in the feat fail to +outgrow all its former dimensions, than could +the heart of Roland's master remain untouched +in actually performing the feat itself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS +FROM GHENT TO AIX<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And into the midnight we galloped abreast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span><span class="i0">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rebuckled the check-strap, chained slacker the bit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Duffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half chime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And against him the cattle stood black every one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To stare through the mist at us galloping past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With resolute shoulders, each butting away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one eye's black intelligence,—ever that glance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll remember at Aix"—for one heard the quick wheeze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So we were left galloping, Joris and I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span><span class="i0">The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How they'll greet us!"—and all in a moment his roan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all I remember is, friends flocking round<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Browning.</span></p> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="poem"><p>LOCHINVAR</p><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through all the wide border his steed was the best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And save his good broadsword he weapon had none,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He stayed not for brake and he stopped not for stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He swam the Esk river where ford there was none;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bride had consented, the gallant came late:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a laggard in love and a dastard in war<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Mong bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The bride kissed the goblet, the knight took it up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So stately his form, and so lovely her face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That never a hall such a galliard did grace;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bride-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they reached the hall door, where the charger stood near;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So light to the saddle before her he sprung!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" quoth young Lochinvar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fosters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Walter Scott.</span></p> +</div></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="poem"><p>KING VOLMER AND ELSIE</p> +<p><i>After the Danish of Christian Winter</i></p><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where, over heathen doom-rings and gray stones of the Horg,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In its little Christian city stands the church of Vordingborg,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In merry mood King Volmer sat, forgetful of his power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As idle as the Goose of Gold that brooded on his tower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Out spake the king to Henrik, his young and faithful squire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Dar'st trust thy little Elsie, the maid of thy desire?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Of all the men in Denmark she loveth only me:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As true to me is Elsie as thy Lily is to thee."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Loud laughed the king: "To-morrow shall bring another day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I myself will test her; she will not say me nay."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thereat the lords and gallants, that round about him stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wagged all their heads in concert and smiled as courtiers should.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The gray lark sings o'er Vordingborg, and on the ancient town<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the tall tower of Valdemar the Golden Goose looks down:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +<span class="i0">The yellow grain is waving in the pleasant wind of morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wood resounds with cry of hounds and blare of hunter's horn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the garden of her father little Elsie sits and spins,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, singing with the early birds, her daily task begins.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gay tulips bloom and sweet mint curls around her garden-bower,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she is sweeter than the mint and fairer than the flower.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">About her form her kirtle blue clings lovingly, and, white<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As snow, her loose sleeves only leave her small, round wrists in sight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below the modest petticoat can only half conceal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The motion of the lightest foot that ever turned a wheel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The cat sits purring at her side, bees hum in sunshine warm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, look! she starts, she lifts her face, she shades it with her arm.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, hark! a train of horsemen, with sound of dog and horn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come leaping o'er the ditches, come trampling down the corn!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Merrily rang the bridle-reins, and scarf and plume streamed gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As fast beside her father's gate the riders held their way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one was brave in scarlet cloak, with golden spur on heel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, as he checked his foaming steed, the maiden checked her wheel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"All hail among thy roses, the fairest rose to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For weary months in secret my heart has longed for thee!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What noble knight was this? What words for modest maiden's ear?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She dropped a lowly courtesy of bashfulness and fear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She lifted up her spinning-wheel; she fain would seek the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trembling in every limb, her cheek with blushes crimsoned o'er.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, fear me not," the rider said, "I offer heart and hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear witness these good Danish knights who round about me stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I grant you time to think of this, to answer as you may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to-morrow, little Elsie, shall bring another day."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He spake the old phrase slyly as, glancing round his train,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He saw his merry followers seek to hide their smiles in vain.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The snow of pearls I'll scatter in your curls of golden hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll line with furs the velvet of the kirtle that you wear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All precious gems shall twine your neck; and in a chariot gay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shall ride, my little Elsie, behind four steeds of gray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And harps shall sound, and flutes shall play, and brazen lamps shall glow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On marble floors your feet shall weave the dances to and fro;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At frosty eventide for us the blazing hearth shall shine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While, at our ease, we play at draughts, and drink the blood-red wine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Elsie raised her head and met her wooer face to face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A roguish smile shone in her eye and on her lip found place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back from her low white forehead the curls of gold she threw,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lifted up her eyes to his, steady and clear and blue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I am a lowly peasant, and you a gallant knight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not trust a love that soon may cool and turn to slight.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span><span class="i0">If you would wed me henceforth be a peasant, not a lord;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bid you hang upon the wall your tried and trusty sword."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To please you, Elsie, I will lay keen Dynadel away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in its place will swing the scythe and mow your father's hay."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Nay, but your gallant scarlet cloak my eyes can never bear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Vadmal coat, so plain and gray, is all that you must wear."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Well, Vadmal will I wear for you," the rider gaily spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And on the Lord's high altar I'll lay my scarlet cloak."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"But mark," she said, "no stately horse my peasant love must ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A yoke of steers before the plow is all that he must guide."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The knight looked down upon his steed: "Well, let him wander free,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No other man must ride the horse that has been backed by me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Henceforth I'll tread the furrow and to my oxen talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If only little Elsie beside my plow will walk."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"You must take from out your cellar cask of wine and flask and can;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The homely mead I brew you may serve a peasant-man."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Most willingly, fair Elsie, I'll drink that mead of thine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leave my minstrel's thirsty throat to drain my generous wine."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now break your shield asunder, and shatter sign and boss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unmeet for peasant-wedded arms, your knightly knee across.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pull me down your castle from top to basement wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And let your plow trace furrows in the ruins of your hall!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then smiled he with a lofty pride: right well at last he knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The maiden of the spinning-wheel was to her troth-plight true.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ah, roguish little Elsie! you act your part full well:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know that I must bear my shield and in my castle dwell!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lions ramping on that shield between the hearts aflame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep watch o'er Denmark's honor, and guard her ancient name.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span><span class="i0">For know that I am Volmer; I dwell in yonder towers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who plows them plows up Denmark, this goodly home of ours!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I tempt no more, fair Elsie! your heart I know is true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would God that all our maidens were good and pure as you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well have you pleased your monarch, and he shall well repay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">God's peace! Farewell! To-morrow will bring another day!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He lifted up his bridle hand, he spurred his good steed then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like a whirl-blast swept away with all his gallant men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The steel hoofs beat the rocky path; again on winds of morn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wood resounds with cry of hounds and blare of hunter's horn.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Thou true and ever faithful!" the listening Henrik cried:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, leaping o'er the green hedge, he stood by Elsie's side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None saw the fond embracing, save, shining from afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Golden Goose that watched them from the tower of Valdemar.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O darling girls of Denmark! of all the flowers that throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her vales of spring the fairest, I sing for you my song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No praise as yours so bravely rewards the singer's skill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thank God! of maids like Elsie the land has plenty still!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Whittier.</span></p> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"> +<p>HERVÉ RIEL<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did the English fight the French—woe to France!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +<span class="i0">And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter thro' the blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the English fleet in view.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Close on him fled, great and small,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Twenty-two good ships in all;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they signaled to the place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Help the winners of a race!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Get us guidance, give us harbor, take us quick—or, quicker still,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Here's the English can and will!'<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?' laughed they:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and scored,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall the <i>Formidable</i> here with her twelve and eighty guns<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trust to enter where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And with flow at full beside?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Now, 'tis slackest ebb of tide.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Reach the mooring? Rather say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While rock stands or water runs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not a ship will leave the bay!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then was called a council straight.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brief and bitter the debate:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take in tow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a prize to Plymouth Sound?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better run the ships aground!'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Ended Damfreville his speech).<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a minute more to wait!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +<span class="i2">'Let the captains all and each<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">France must undergo her fate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Give the word!' But no such word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was ever spoke or heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A captain? A lieutenant? A mate—first, second, third?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No such man of mark, and meet<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With his betters to compete!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But a simple Breton sailor pressed by Tourville for the fleet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A poor coasting-pilot he, Hervé Riel the Croisickese.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, 'What mockery or malice have we here?' cries Hervé Riel:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twixt the offing here and Grève, where the river disembogues?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +<span class="i4">Morn and eve, night and day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Have I piloted your bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Burn the fleet and ruin France? That were worse than fifty Hogues!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me there's a way!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only let me lead the line,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Have the biggest ship to steer,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Get this <i>Formidable</i> clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make the others follow mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know well,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right to Solidor past Grève,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And there lay them safe and sound;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And if one ship misbehave,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Keel so much as grate the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, I've nothing but my life—here's my head!' cries Hervé Riel.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not a minute more to wait.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Steer us in, then, small and great!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Take the helm, lead the line, save the squadron!' cried its chief.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Captains, give the sailor place!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He is Admiral in brief.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still the north wind, by God's grace!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See the noble fellow's face<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +<span class="i0">As the big ship, with a bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clears the entry like a hound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keeps the passage as its inch of way were the wide sea's profound!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">See, safe thro' shoal and rock,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How they follow in a flock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a ship that misbehaves, not a keel that grates the ground,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not a spar that comes to grief!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The peril, see, is past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All are harbored, to the last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And just as Hervé Riel hollas 'Anchor!'—sure as fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Up the English come, too late!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, the storm subsides to calm:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They see the green trees wave<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the heights o'erlooking Grève.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hearts that bled are stanched with balm,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Just our rapture to enhance,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Let the English rake the bay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gnash their teeth and glare askance<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As they cannonade away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Neath rampired Solidor pleasant riding on the Rance!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How hope succeeds despair on each captain's countenance!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out burst all with one accord,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'This is Paradise for Hell!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let France, let France's King,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thank the man that did the thing!'<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +<span class="i0">What a shout, and all one word,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Hervé Riel!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he stepped in front once more,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Not a symptom of surprise<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the frank blue Breton eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just the same man as before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then said Damfreville, 'My friend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must speak out at the end,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though I find the speaking hard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Praise is deeper than the lips;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You have saved the King his ships,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You must name your own reward.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faith our sun was near eclipse!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Demand whate'er you will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">France remains your debtor still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ask to heart's content and have! or my name's not Damfreville.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then a beam of fun outbroke<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the bearded mouth that spoke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the honest heart laughed through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those frank eyes of Breton blue:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Since I needs must say my say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since on board the duty's done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And from Malo Roads to Croisic Point, what is it but a run?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since 'tis ask and have, I may—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Since the others go ashore—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come! A good whole holiday!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leave to go, and see my wife, whom I call the Belle Aurore!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That he asked and that he got—nothing more.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Name and deed alike are lost:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a pillar nor a post<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a head in white and black<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a single fishing smack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the bell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go to Paris: rank on rank<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Search the heroes flung pell-mell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the Louvre, face and flank!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You shall look long enough ere you come to Hervé Riel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, for better and for worse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hervé Riel, accept my verse!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my verse, Hervé Riel, do thou once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save the squadron, honor France, love thy wife the Bell Aurore!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>Your imagination can no more follow the +flight of the <i>Formidable</i>, steered by Hervé +Riel, with the French fleet close following +her guidance and "the English at her heels"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +past the rocks and shoals of Grève to safe +harbor at Solidor, and remain creatively unsensitive +to the pulse of progressive action, +than could the actual rescue of his country's +squadron leave unmoved toward the "man +who did the deed" the heart of her Captain +Damfreville.</p> + +<p>And when your imagination has not only +carried you through such adventure, but +stimulated <i>my</i> imagination to like activity, +there is no limit to be set to the development +which may result for us both.</p> + +<p>Suggestive analysis can be of little help +at this point, the work must be done in the +class-room under direction.</p> + +<p>To such stimulating exercise in the vocal +interpretation of these poems of action, I +leave you and your imagination. I shall +hope to find difficulty in recognizing either +of you at our next meeting. Like Mr. +Rhoades's<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> pupil when he emerged from the +Ninth book of <i>Paradise Lost</i>, you ought to +have "outgrown all your present intellectual +clothes" in the study of these stories in +verse.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> +<p>As further material for this study there is +no better choice to be made than Tennyson's +great quasi-epic, <i>The Idylls of the King</i>, +from which but for lack of space we should +have printed selections. The following suggestions +for work in composition at this point +are based on the <i>Idylls</i>.</p> + +<p>Describe in your own words Camelot.</p> + +<p>Write an imaginary scene between Gareth +and his mother.</p> + +<p>Tell the story of Elaine.</p> + +<p>Make the Holy Grail into the form of a +miracle play.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="FIFTH_STUDY" id="FIFTH_STUDY"></a>FIFTH STUDY</h2> + +<h4>TO DEVELOP DRAMATIC INSTINCT</h4> + + +<p>Our final study in interpretation has for +its concern the development of dramatic +instinct. The work just finished should +have left no doubt in your mind as to the +nature or value of this final step in the +training, since it has anticipated both. Development +of imaginative vigor should arouse +a latent dramatic instinct and release histrionic +power. The choice of place in these +studies for this phase of the training was +made to insure cumulative evolution resulting +in balanced expression. As imagination +needs to safeguard her freedom with +sympathetic thought and intelligent emotion, +so dramatic instinct needs the guidance of a +vigorous but trained imagination. Dramatic +instinct so directed should achieve skill in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +interpreting drama and lead to distinction +in the art of acting. The immediate evolution +should be a clarified vision of life. Your +final attainment from this theory should be +distinction in the art of living.</p> + +<p>With dramatic instinct capable of such +achievement, let us proceed to exercise it in +the material chosen for this study,—dramatic +literature. The natural transition from +story to play, from narrative to drama, is by +way of the monologue. Some discussion with +suggestive analysis of this form is necessary +in order to impress upon you the difference +between suggestive impersonation and actual +impersonation or characterization, leading to +a clear understanding of the difference between +reading a play and acting in one; but +the final evolution of interpretative power +must come through acted drama,—through +taking part in a play.</p> + +<p>The dictionary in defining the monologue +authorizes three forms: (1) when the actor +tells a continuous story in which he is the +chief character, referring to the others as +absent; (2) when he assumes the voice or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +manner of several characters successively; +(3) more recently, when he implies that the +others are present, leading the audience to +imagine what they say by his replies. Browning +created this more recent form, which is +the most vital of the three. I have chosen +for your study of the monologue examples +from Browning alone. To interpret effectively +any one of the Browning monologues will +call into play every element of power in +voice and expression which you have gained +in your study of previous forms. You must +think vividly, feel intelligently, realize and +suggest an atmosphere, sustain a situation, +and keep the beauty of the poetic form. +And you must do all this <i>in the person of another</i>. +The new demand which the monologue +makes is impersonation. Let us see +just what we mean by impersonation. It is +the art of identifying one's self with the +character to be portrayed. It is the art of +losing one's self in the character and the +situation the dramatist has created. This +means that the spirit of the character must +take possession of the impersonator, and in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>form +his every thought and feeling, and so +his every motion and tone. Remember, it +is the <i>spirit</i> of the character that must determine +the nature of the tone and gesture. +The great danger in entering upon the study +of impersonation lies in emphasizing the outward +manifestation instead of the inward +spirit of the character to be portrayed. If +you really sense the soul, mind, heart quality +of the character you are to present, and have +made your voice and body free agents for +the manifestation of those qualities, your impersonation +will be convincing. If the spirit +of the <i>Patriot</i> or <i>Andrea del Sarto</i> or <i>Fra +Lippo Lippi</i> or <i>Pompilia</i> or <i>Caponsacchi</i> or +<i>Guido</i> obsesses you, the outward manifestation +will take care of itself—always provided +your instruments are responsive. Don't begin +with the outward manifestation. Don't +say I think this man would frown a great +deal, or fold his arms over his breast, or use +an eyeglass, or strut, or stoop, or do any +one of a hundred things which, if repeated a +half-dozen times during an impersonation, +may become a mannerism and get between<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +the audience and the spirit of the character. +When you are studying a character for the +purpose of impersonation determine first to +what type it belongs. Then study that type, +wherever you are. Daily life becomes your +teacher and studio. When you enter upon +this art there are no longer dull moments in +railroad stations or trains, in shops or in the +social whirl. Everywhere and always you +are the student seeking to know and understand +types of people better, that you may +use your knowledge in presenting to an audience +an individual. When you have caught +the spirit of the individual you must realize +the situation out of which this particular +individual speaks.</p> + +<p>Let us make a special study of the <i>Tale</i> +(Browning's epilogue to <i>The Two Poets of +Croisic</i>). It is perhaps the most exquisite +of the poet's creations in this field. The situation +reveals a young girl recalling to her +poet lover an old Greek tale he had once told +her. There is a suggestion from some critics +that Browning has drawn his wife in this portrait, +and through it pays his tribute to her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +This immediately affords us a clue to the +type of character to which the speaker belongs. +We cannot hope (nor do we wish) to +impersonate Mrs. Browning, but a knowledge +of Mrs. Browning and her relation to her +poet lover, gained through a study of her +<i>Letters and Sonnets</i>, will lead us more quickly +to a comprehension of the speaker and +situation in the <i>Tale</i>.</p> + +<p>Obsessed by the spirit of the character and +fully realizing the situation, our next step is, +<i>in imagination</i>, to set the stage. This is an +important point in presenting a monologue. +The impersonator must have a clear idea of +his position on his imaginary stage relative +to his imaginary interlocutor. But he must +remember that <i>imaginary</i> stage-setting admits +of only delicately suggestive use. This +is true of the handling of a monologue at +every point. It must be suggestive. The +actor carries to completion the action which +the monologuist suggests. The art of interpreting +a monologue depends upon the discrimination +of the impersonator in drawing +his line between suggestion and actualization<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +in gesture. The business of the monologuist +is to make an appeal to the imagination of +the audience so vivid that the imagination +of the audience can actualize the suggestion. +And the illusion is complete. What are the +relative positions of the girl and her lover +in the <i>Tale</i>? There is nothing in the lines +to make our choice arbitrary. It is only important +that we determine a relation and +keep it consistently throughout the reading. +Here is a possible "setting." They are in +the poet's study; he is working at his desk; +she is sitting in a great chair before the fire, +a book in her hand, which she does not read; +she is gazing into the flames. She begins +dreamily, more to herself than to him—"What +a pretty tale you told me." At +what point does her tone lose its reflective +quality and become more personal? Where +does she turn to him? How do we know +that he leaves his chair and comes over to +sit on the arm of her chair? What calls him +to her? What two qualities of feeling run +through her mood and determine the color +of her tone and the character of her move<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>ments. +If your study of Mrs. Browning has +been intelligent, this interplay of the whimsical +and serious in her nature cannot have +escaped you, and it will illumine now your +impersonation of this girl. It is the secret of +the peculiar charm of this creation. The +story she tells is an old and well-known one. +It is the manner of the telling through which +we come in touch with an exquisite woman's +soul that holds us spellbound. Unless the +interpreter catches this secret and reveals it +to his audience, he will miss the distinctive +feature of the monologue and reduce it to a +narrative poem.</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A TALE<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What a pretty tale you told me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once upon a time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Said you found it somewhere (scold me!)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was it prose or was it rhyme,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Greek or Latin? Greek, you said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While your shoulder propped my head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Anyhow there's no forgetting<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This much if no more,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +<span class="i0">That a poet (pray, no petting!)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yes, a bard, sir, famed of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went where such like used to go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Singing for a prize, you know.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, he had to sing, nor merely<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sing but play the lyre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Playing was important clearly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Quite as singing: I desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, you keep the fact in mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a purpose that's behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There stood he, while deep attention<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Held the judges round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Judges able, I should mention,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To detect the slightest sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sung or played amiss: such ears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had old judges, it appears!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">None the less he sang out boldly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Played in time and tune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the judges, weighing coldly<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each note's worth, seemed, late or soon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure to smile 'In vain one tries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Picking faults out: take the prize!'<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, a mischief! Were they seven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Strings the lyre possessed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, and afterward eleven,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thank you! Well, sir—who had guessed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such ill luck in store?—it happed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One of those same seven strings snapped.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All was lost, then! No! a cricket<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(What 'cicada'? Pooh!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Some mad thing that left its thicket<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For mere love of music—flew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With its little heart on fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lighted on the crippled lyre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">VIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So that when (Ah, joy!) our singer<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For his truant string<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feels with disconcerted finger,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What does cricket else but fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fiery heart forth, sound the note<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wanted by the throbbing throat?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">IX<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ay and, ever to the ending,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cricket chirps at need,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Executes the hands intending,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Promptly, perfectly,—indeed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saves the singer from defeat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her chirrup low and sweet.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">X<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till, at ending, all the judges<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cry with one assent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Take the prize—a prize who grudges<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such a voice and instrument?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, we took your lyre for harp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So it shrilled us forth F sharp!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Did the conqueror spurn the creature,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once its service done?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's no such uncommon feature<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the case when Music's son<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Finds his Lotte's power too spent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For aiding soul-development.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No! This other, on returning<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Homeward, prize in hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Satisfied his bosom's yearning:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Sir, I hope you understand!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—Said 'Some record there must be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this cricket's help to me!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So, he made himself a statue:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Marble stood, life-size;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the lyre, he pointed at you,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perched his partner in the prize;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Never more apart you found<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her, he throned, from him, she crowned.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XIV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That's the tale: its application?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Somebody I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hopes one day for reputation<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thro' his poetry that's—oh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All so learned and so wise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deserving of a prize!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If he gains one, will some ticket,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When his statue's built,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tell the gazer ''Twas a cricket<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Helped my crippled lyre, whose lilt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet and low, when strength usurped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softness' place i' the scale, she chirped?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XVI<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For as victory was nighest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While I sang and played—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With my lyre at lowest, highest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Right alike,—one string that made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Love" sound soft was snapt in twain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never to be heard again,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XVII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Had not a kind cricket fluttered,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Perched upon the place<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Vacant left, and duly uttered<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Love, Love, Love," whene'er the bass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Asked the treble to atone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For its somewhat somber drone.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">XVIII<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But you don't know music! Wherefore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Keep on casting pearls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a—poet? All I care for<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is—to tell him that a girl's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Love' comes aptly in when gruff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grows his singing. (There, enough!)<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A mile or so away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a little mound, Napoleon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Stood on our storming-day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Legs wide, arms locked behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if to balance the prone brow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Oppressive with its mind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">II<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Just as perhaps he mused 'My plans<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That soar, to earth may fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let once my army-leader Lannes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Waver at yonder wall,'—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Out 'twixt the battery smokes there flew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A rider, bound on bound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full-galloping; nor bridle drew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Until he reached the mound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">III<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then off there flung in smiling joy,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And held himself erect<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By just his horse's mane, a boy:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You hardly could suspect—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(So tight he kept his lips compressed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Scarce any blood came through)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You looked twice ere you saw his breast<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was all but shot in two.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">IV<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Well,' cried he, 'Emperor, by God's grace<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We've got you Ratisbon!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Marshal's in the market-place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you'll be there anon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see your flag-bird flap his vans<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where I, to heart's desire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perched him!' The chief's eye flashed; his plans<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soared up again like fire.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">V<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The chief's eye flashed; but presently<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Softened itself, as sheathes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A film the mother-eagle's eye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When her bruised eaglet breathes;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +<span class="i0">'You're wounded!' 'Nay,' the soldier's pride<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Touched to the quick, he said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I'm killed, Sire!' And his chief beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Smiling the boy fell dead.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MY LAST DUCHESS<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FERRARA<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Looking as if she were alive. I call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worked busily a day, and there she stands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will 't please you sit and look at her? I said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Frà Pandolf' by design; for never read<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strangers like you that pictured countenance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The depth and passion of its earnest glance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to myself they turned (since none puts by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How such a glance came there; so, not the first<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, t'was not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her husband's presence only, called that spot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frà Pandolf chanced to say 'Her mantle laps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over my lady's wrist too much,' or 'Paint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must never hope to reproduce the faint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half-flush that dies along her throat': such stuff<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For calling up that spot of joy. She had<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A heart—how shall I say?—too soon made glad,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span><span class="i0">Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sir, 'twas all one! My favor at her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dropping of the daylight in the West,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bough of cherries some officious fool<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rode with round the terrace—all and each<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would draw from her alike the approving speech,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or blush, at least. She thanked men,—good! but thanked<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somehow—I know not how—as if she ranked<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This sort of trifling? Even had you skill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In speech—(which I have not)—to make your will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quite clear to such an one, and say, 'Just this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or there exceed the mark'—and if she let<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">—E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if alive. Will 't please you rise? We'll meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The company below, then. I repeat,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span><span class="i0">The Count your master's known munificence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is ample warrant that no just pretense<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author">—<span class="smcap">Browning.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<p>Our last form for interpretative vocal study +is the play. We shall discover that the presentation +of the play makes the same demands +upon the interpreter as the monologue +with the new element of <i>transition</i>. We are +still studying the monologue, because we are +to read, not act, the play. It is still suggestive, +not actualized impersonation. But +instead of one character to suggestively set +forth we have two, three, a dozen to present. +The transition from character to character +becomes our one new problem. As we have +said before, in making the transition from +character to character, voice, mind, and body +must be so volatile that the action of the +play shall not be interrupted. I know of no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +better way to enter upon the study of a play +for reading (or acting) than to treat each +character as the speaker in a monologue of +the Browning type. The danger in transition +from character to character centers in +the instant's pause when one speaker yields +to another. The unskilful reader loses both +characters at this point and becomes conscious +of himself; the action of the play stops; +and the illusion of scene and situation is lost. +The great reader of the play (in that <i>instant's +pause</i>), as he utters the last word of +one character, becomes the interlocutor listening +to the words which he as the other +character has just uttered. In that instant +he must show the effect of the speech he has +just uttered upon the character he has just +become. Which is the greater art: to read +a play, or to act in it?</p> + +<p>Use for your study of the play the Shakespearian +drama. Begin with scenes from <i>As +You Like It</i> and <i>The Merchant of Venice</i>; +but begin with actualized impersonation of +the characters. No discussion more! No +analysis more! The play—the "play's the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +thing" through which to complete this +evolution in Vocal Expression.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>A FINAL WORD ON INTERPRETATION</i></p> + +<p>Looking back over these studies in interpretation, +let us review in true scholastic +fashion the main points thus far discovered. +We say looking back, but as far as the +arrangement of our text goes this review +involves looking forward too. The division +of the book into three parts is purely a matter +of a necessary separation in discussing the +three activities involved in vocal expression. +If your use of this book has been intelligent, +each study in interpretation has revealed +your need to strengthen your vocal vocabulary +or to perfect your vocal technique, and +you have turned at once for the required help +to the studies in <a href="#PART_II">Part II</a> and the exercises +in <a href="#PART_III">Part III</a>.</p> + +<p>Omitting a review of the <i>preliminary +plunge</i>, which was intended to "show up" +all your peculiar powers and all your especial +needs at once, and so furnish a basis for the +main work, let us see what happened in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +five following studies. It will simplify our +statement in each case to base the analysis +of our discoveries on the form of literature +employed in each study.</p> + +<p>You found then (or ought to have found) +in Study One: that the essay and didactic +poem make a fundamental appeal to the +mind; that the demand upon the interpreter +of this form is for clear, concise thinking; +that your need is for a command of unerring +emphasis and purposeful inflection. You +turned to the studies in <i>pause</i>, <i>change of +pitch</i>, and <i>inflection</i> to meet that need. Returning +to the main study, you tested your +vocal skill on the essay to find the essay so +read might persuade an auditor to some readjustment +of his ideas, values, discriminations, +or strengthen him in convictions +already held.</p> + +<p>Study Two revealed that in lyric poetry +the primary appeal is to emotion; that its +vocal demand upon the interpreter is for a +mastery of <i>tone-color</i>, a sense of rhythm, and +the power to suggest a background of musical +sound. Having supplied as far as possible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +any lack in your vocabulary or technique by +supplementary work in Parts II and III, +returning you found that a lyric rightly read +could release in the auditor pity, forgiveness, +forbearance, endurance, understanding, love.</p> + +<p>The Third Study should have convinced +you that a sense of <i>good</i> humor is a safe +and desirable thing to cultivate; that the +whimsical tone in interpretation will leaven +almost any lump of sheer learning and counteract +a serious overdose of sentiment; that +fable, fairy tale, and nonsense rhyme depend +too for successful interpretation upon this +element of whimsicality in the reader; that +the secret of the whimsical element in vocal +expression lies in a use of <i>pause</i> and <i>inflection</i>.</p> + +<p>Study Four should have discovered to you +that the three elements of the short story +can only be realized through imagination; +that imaginative vigor dealing with action +requires sustained vitality of tone. Such +discovery should have resulted in many hours +of work on the exercises for <i>support</i> and +<i>freedom</i> of <i>tone</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> + +<p>When you reached the Fifth and last +Study, the work in monologue and drama +should have easily awakened your dramatic +instinct and quickly released your histrionic +power. You should have learned through +monologue and drama to understand various +types of persons; to see more clearly the +relations of men and events; to more intelligently +comprehend life itself.</p> + +<p>Finally, we have discovered that to become +a true interpreter of literature means to +become a lucid channel for the message of an +author to the mind of an auditor,—nay, that +it means more than that. In final evolution +the interpreter of literature becomes a revealer +of life. The final effect of literature +worth interpreting is to enlarge the world's +knowledge of life's beauty, truth, or power. +Your final concern as an interpreter is to let +life find through you uninterrupted revelation +on one of these planes; to become a +pure medium between the beauty, truth, and +power of life and the seeking soul. The +author need not be considered in this final +analysis, because you, the interpreter, first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +became identified with the author, and then +both of you are lost in the vision, save only +as either personality may enlarge or clarify +the revelation.</p> + +<p>A personal experience may help you to +realize this ideal of the interpreter's art.</p> + +<p>With a sense of protest, I had presented a +play I loved to an audience with which I felt +little sympathy. By chance there was in +that audience one of our best teachers and +critics. After my recital I sought his criticism. +Beginning, as the true critic always +should, with a noting of some point of power, +he said, "I congratulate you upon your +<i>illumined moments</i>, but—they are too infrequent. +You must multiply them." "What +do you mean by my illumined moments?" +I asked. "The moments when you do not +get between your audience and the thought +you are uttering—the moments when you +become a revealer of life to them. Your +attitude toward your audience is not sustained +in the simplicity and clearness of some +of its moments. You suddenly ring down +the curtain in the middle of the scene. That<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +spoils the scene, you know. You seem to +feel a revolt against the giving of your confidence +to the audience, and thereupon you +immediately shut them away. You become +conscious of yourself, and we, the audience, +lose the vision and become conscious of you +and the way you are reading or reciting or +acting." Then he added, "Adelaide Neilson, +at first, had illumined moments in her playing +of Juliet, but finally her impersonation became +one piece of illumination." That delightful +teacher, reader, and critic, the late +Mr. Howard Ticknor, suggested the same +ideal in comparing a Juliet of to-day with +Miss Neilson's Juliet. "When Miss —— is +on the balcony," he said, "you hear all around +you: 'How lovely she looks!' 'Isn't that robe +dear?' 'How beautiful her voice is!' When +Miss Neilson lived that little minute, a breathless +people prayed with Juliet, 'I would +not for the world they found thee here,' +and sighed with Romeo—'O blessed, blessed +night! I am afeard, being in night, all this +is but a dream.'" Miss Neilson <i>was</i> Juliet. +They, the audience, lived with these lovers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +one hour of lyric rapture, and could never +again be quite so commonplace in their attitude +toward the "deathless passion." They +may not now remember Adelaide Neilson, +but they remember that story, and forever +carry a new vision of life and love, because +the actress lost herself in the life of +the play. She did not exploit her personality +and let it stand between the audience +and the drama. When some one says to +you—the reader or actress, "I shall never +forget the way you raised your eyebrow at +that point," don't stop to reply, but fly to +your study and read the lines "at that point" +over and over, with level brows, until you +understand the meaning, and can express +the thought so effectively by a lift of your +voice that you no longer need the help of +your eyebrow. Every gesture, every tone, +must call attention, not to itself, but to the +hidden meaning of the author. It must illumine +the text of the character portrayed. +That is it: if we would be artists (and there +is not one among us who would not be an +artist) we must cease to put our little selves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +in front of our messages. In the home, in +the office, in the houses of our friends, in the +school-room, on the platform, on the stage, +let us be <i>simple</i>, <i>natural</i>, <i>sincere</i>. Let us lay +aside our mannerisms. Let us seek to know +and reveal life. Then shall we be remembered—not, +for a queer way of combing our +hair, or lifting our eyes, or using our hands, +or shrugging our shoulders, but for some +revelation of truth or of beauty which we +have brought to a community.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II</h2> + +<h4>STUDIES IN VOCAL EXPRESSION</h4> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="STUDIES_IN_VOCAL_EXPRESSION" id="STUDIES_IN_VOCAL_EXPRESSION"></a>STUDIES IN VOCAL EXPRESSION</h2> + +<h4>THE VOCAL VOCABULARY</h4> + + +<p>There is a theory that it is dangerous to go +beyond the mere freeing of the instrument +in either vocal or physical training. In accordance +with this theory I was advised by +a well-known actress to confine my study +for the stage, so far as the vocal and pantomimic +preparation was concerned, to singing, +dancing, and fencing. "Get your voice and +body under control," she said. "Make them +free, but don't connect shades of thought and +emotion with definite tones of the voice or +movements of the body; don't meddle with +Delsarte or elocution." This advice seemed +good at the time. It still seems to me that +it ought to be the right method. But I have +grown to distrust it. One of the chief sources +of my distrust has been the effect of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +theory upon the art of the actress who gave +the advice. She is perhaps the most graceful +woman on the stage to-day, and her voice +is pure music. But her gestures and tones +fail in lucidity; they fail to illumine the text +of the part she essays to interpret. One +grows suddenly impatient of the meaningless +grace of her movements, the meaningless +music of her voice. One longs for a swift—if +studied—stride across the stage in anger +instead of the unstudied grace of her glide +in swirling-robed protest. One longs to hear +a staccato declaration of intention instead +of the cadenced music of a voice guiltless +of intention. No! After the body has been +made a free and responsive agent, a mastery +of certain fundamental laws, a mastery +of certain principles of gesture in accordance +with the dictates of thought and emotion, is +necessary to its further perfecting as a vivid, +powerful, and true agent of personality. The +action must be suited to the word, the word +to the action, through a study of the laws +governing expression in action.</p> + +<p>So with the voice: to become not only a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +free instrument, but a beautiful and powerful +means of expression and communication it +must learn to recognize and obey certain +fundamental laws governing its modulations. +A master of verbal expression is distinguished +by his vast vocabulary of words, and his skill +and discrimination in its use. A master of +vocal expression must acquire what we may +call a <i>vocal vocabulary</i>, consisting of changes +of pitch, varieties of inflection and variations +in tone color, and must know how to use +these elements with skill and discrimination. +Our need for such a vocabulary was discovered +to us at every step of the work in +interpretation. The suggestions and exercises +of the following studies aim to supplement +the work in interpretation by meeting +that need. Before making a detailed +study of each element of this vocal vocabulary +let us make a quick study with the four +elements in mind. Remember, in the last +preliminary exercise, as in the final complete +interpretative endeavor, the material we employ +is to be chosen from real literature. It +is to be worth interpreting whether it be a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +single line or phrase or a complete poetical +drama. We have agreed to consider literature +as real literature, and so worth our interpretative +efforts, when it possesses one or +combines all of the three qualities,—<i>beauty</i>, +<i>truth</i>, and <i>power</i>.</p> + +<p>This passage from Emerson's <i>Friendship</i> +surely meets that requirement. It is truth +beautifully and powerfully expressed. It +will serve.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Our friendships hurry to short and poor conclusions +because we have made them a texture +of wine and dreams instead of the tough fiber +of the human heart.</p></div> + +<p>Having read this passage cursorily (as is +the custom in reading to one's self to-day), +will you now study it for a moment very +closely. Now, once more, please, read it +silently, noting the action of your mind as +you read. ("Watch its pulsations," Dr. +Curry would say.) And now, aloud, although +without an auditor, read it, this time noting +the effect of the action of the mind upon your +voice. Did its pitch change? Where and +why? How did you inflect the words "wine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +and dreams"? How did the inflection of +these words differ from that of the last six +words, "tough fiber of the human heart," +with which they are contrasted in thought? +Did your tone change color at any point? +Why? Where? But now, once more, let us +approach the passage, this time with a different +intention. Let us study it with the +idea of interpreting it for another mind. +Now the method of attack is very different. +Not that it ought to be different. But it is. +Intense concentration ought to characterize +all our reading, whether its object be to +acquire knowledge or pleasure for one's self, +or to impart either to another. But the day +of reading which "<i>maketh a full man</i>" seems +to be long past, so far as the general public +is concerned. The necessity of skimming the +pages of a dozen fourth-rate books of the +hour in order to be at least a lucid interlocutor, +and so a desired dinner guest, is making +our reading a swift gathering of colorless +impressions which may remain a week or +only a day, and which leave no lasting +effect of beauty or truth upon the mind and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +heart of the reader. Should it not be rather +an intense application of the mind to the +thought of a master mind, until that thought, +in all its power and beauty, has broadened +the boundaries of the reader's mind and enlarged +the meaning of all his thoughts? I +wonder if a much smaller proportion of time +spent in such reading might not result in a +less <i>bromidic</i> social atmosphere, even though +its tendency were a bit serious. I think it +might be both safe and interesting to try such +an experiment.</p> + +<p>But now we must return to Emerson on +<i>Friendship</i>. In studying a passage for the +purpose of vocal interpretation you have +learned that the concentration of attention +upon the thought must be intense, you must +make the thought absolutely your own before +you can present it to your auditor, it must +possess you before you can express it; that +the thought must seem in the moment of its +expression to be a creation of your own +brain, it must belong to you as only the thing +you have created can, and until you have so +recreated the thought it is not yours to give.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +Having recalled these precepts, read the passage +silently again. Pour upon it the light +of your experience, your philosophy, your +ideals, your perception of truth. Comment +upon it silently as you read. Now read it +aloud and let your voice do this commenting. +But wait a moment. Let me quote for you +the paragraph following this statement.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The laws of friendship are austere and eternal, +of one web with the laws of nature and morals. +But we have aimed at a swift and petty benefit +to suck a sudden sweetness. We snatch at the +slowest fruit in the whole garden of God, which +many summers and many winters must ripen.</p></div> + +<p>This is Emerson's paraphrase of his original +statement. How much of it did your mental +commentary include? How did your silent +paraphrase resemble this? Read the original +passage again to yourself in the light of this +paraphrase. I shall ask you now to repeat +the first sentence from memory, for you will +find, after this concentrated contemplation +of a thought, that its form is fixed fast in +your mind. That is a delightful accompaniment +of this kind of reading. The form of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +the thought, if it be apposite (which it must +be to be literature, and we are considering +only literature), the form of a thought so +approached stays with us in all its beauty.</p> + +<p>Let us then repeat the original statement, +having read the passage in which Emerson +has elaborated it. Now, what you must demand +of your voice is this: that it shall so +handle the single introductory sentence as to +suggest the rest of the paragraph. In other +words, your voice must do the paraphrasing, +by means of its changes in pitch, its inflections, +and its variations in tone-color; by +means, in short, of its <i>vocal vocabulary</i>.</p> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h4>STUDY IN PAUSE AND CHANGE OF PITCH</h4> + +<p>It is asserted that, "the last word has not +been said on any subject." Mr. Hamilton +Mabie seemed to me to achieve a <i>last +word</i> on the subject of <i>pause</i> when he +casually remarked: "Emerson was a master +of pause; he would pause, and into the pool<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +of expectancy created by that pause drop +just the right word." There seems little to +be added to complete the exposition of that +single sentence. It surely leaves no doubt +in our minds as to the effect to be desired +from the use of this element of our vocabulary. +How to use it to gain that effect is our +problem. First of all, we must cease to be +afraid to pause. We hurry on over splendid +opportunities to elucidate our text through +a just use of this form of emphasis, beset by +two fears: fear that we shall seem to have +forgotten the text; fear that we shall actually +forget it if we stop to think. Think +of being afraid to stop to think lest we should +stop thinking! That is precisely what the +fear indicates. It arises, of course, from a +confusion as to the real nature of pause. +We confuse pause with its ghost, hesitation. +Dr. Curry makes the difference clear for us +in his definition of hesitation as an "empty +pause." "Empty of what?" you ask. Empty +of thought! Of course, an empty pause is a +ghastly as well as a ghostly thing to experience. +If you have ever faced an audience<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +in one of those "awful" moments when your +voice has ceased because your thought has +stopped, and when you are painfully aware +of a pool of embarrassed sympathy into which +you know there is no word to drop, then you +have learned the meaning of an <i>empty pause</i>.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, if you shall ever face +an audience in one of those <i>fateful</i> moments +when your voice pauses because your +thought is so vital, that you realize both +your audience and you must be given time +to fully grasp it, and when you are serenely +conscious of that "pool of expectancy" into +which you know you have just the right +word to drop, then you will learn the meaning +of a <i>true pause</i>.</p> + +<p>Some one has called inflection a running +commentary of the emotions upon the +thought. Emphasis might well be defined +in the same way. The definition would need +to be a bit more inclusive, since emphasis +includes inflection. Emphasis then may be +defined as a running commentary of the +thought and emotion of the reader upon the +thought of the text he interprets. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +words reveal the thought; your valuation +of that thought, as you interpret it, is revealed +through your vocal vocabulary in +voicing it. We, your auditors, can only +gather from your emphasis your valuation +of the truth or importance of what you are +uttering. You may use one or all of the elements +of your vocal vocabulary to bring out +the thought of a single phrase. The elements of +the vocal vocabulary are all forms of emphasis.</p> + +<p>Since pause is a cessation of speech it can +hardly be called an element of a vocal +vocabulary; but it may rightly be called +the basis of our vocabulary because it determines +our use of the other elements. It +behooves us then to make a study of pause +before testing our vocabulary as to its other +elements.</p> + +<p>Here are two texts to be valued by our +use of the pause.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>EXTRACT FROM THE DIARY OF A BOARDING-SCHOOL +GIRL</p> + +<p>At midnight, the magic hour as every girl +knows for affairs of a purely private and per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>sonal +nature, when far away at the end of a corridor +you can almost hear Miss ——'s peaceful +snore, when as the poet aptly put it in this +morning's English stunt, "darkness clears our +vision which by day is sun-blind"—(I thought +Jane and I would die laughing and give it all +away when we came to that line in Mr. Lanier's +stupid poem),—well, as I say, exactly at +that hour my heart began to beat so hard I +thought it would wake Madge without the +"punch" I had promised to give her when it was +time to begin preparations for our grand spread.</p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><p>From Sidney Lanier's <i>Crystal</i>.</p><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At midnight, death's and truth's unlocking time.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When far within the spirit's hearing rolls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The great soft rumble of the course of things—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bulk of silence in a mask of sound,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When darkness clears our vision that by day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is sun-blind, and the soul's a ravening owl<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For truth and flitteth here and there about<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low-lying woody tracts of time and oft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is minded for to sit upon a bough,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dry-dead and sharp, of some long-stricken tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And muse in that gaunt place,—'twas then my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep in the meditative dark, cried out: ...<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The same hour, <i>midnight</i>, is designated +by both girl and poet; the same two words, +"at midnight," open the confession and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +poem. A pause must follow these words +in the reading of either text, and another +pause must be made after the qualifying +phrase which immediately follows the opening +words of either text. But what a difference +in the comparative length of the pauses +demanded by the two readings! A very +different atmosphere attends an hour when +it is the time chosen for a school-girl's +escapade or set apart for a <i>poet's meditation</i>. +And the voice by its use of <i>pause</i> can preserve +or destroy either atmosphere. Try it. +Make your pauses in reading the school-girl's +text of equal length with the pauses +the reading of Lanier's poem demands. You +will find the result is that <i>overemphasis</i> +which has brought such discredit upon the +name of "elocution." I once heard a much-advertised +reader strain all the elements of +her vocal vocabulary in announcing a simple +change in her programme. I have heard more +than one reader give the stage directions, +indicate the scene setting, and introduce +the characters in exactly the same voice +and with the same use of emphasis which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +were afterward employed in the most dramatic +passages. Of course all the ammunition +had been used up before the real battle +began, and no one was in the least affected +by the firing during the rest of the engagement.</p> + +<p>We have said that the use of pause determines +the use of all other elements of the +vocabulary. This is particularly true of the +<i>change of pitch</i> which immediately follows +pause. We pause before a new idea to get +possession of it; in that pause we measure +the idea, and the pitch of the voice changes +to accord with that measure. Every change +of thought causes a change of pitch, but the +degree and direction of change in pitch of +the voice depends upon the degree and +direction of change in thought values. In +the pause the mind takes time to value the +new thought, and tells the voice what change +it must make. Robert Browning affords the +best material for a study in change of pitch, +because of his sudden and long parentheses, +which can be handled lucidly by a voice +only after it has mastered this element of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +the vocal vocabulary. <i>Abt Vogler</i> offers the +voice an excellent opportunity for exercise +in change of pitch. I print the first stanza +and first line of the second stanza of this +poem for your use.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would that the structure brave, the manifold music I build,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bidding my organ obey, calling its keys to their work,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Claiming each slave of the sound, at a touch, as when Solomon willed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Armies of angels that soar, legions of demons that lurk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man, brute, reptile, fly—alien of end and of aim,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Adverse, each from the other heaven-high, hell-deep removed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should rush into sight at once as he named the ineffable Name,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pile him a palace straight, to pleasure the princess he loved!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would it might tarry like his, the beautiful building of mine—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Remember, you are to confine your consideration +to the one point, <i>change of pitch</i>, +not the change of pitch within a word, which +is inflection and belongs to another chapter,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +but to the broad changes of pitch from word +to word, phrase to phrase, sentence to sentence, +following the intricate changes of the +thought.</p> + +<p>I leave you to blaze a trail through this +forest of ideas. You must find the main +road, and then trace the by-paths which lead +away from that main road, and in this case, +fortunately, come back to it again—which +does not always happen in Mr. Browning's +"woody tracts of thought." To employ a +better figure for vocal purposes, you must +cut off the stream, the voice, and trace the +bed of this river of thought, following the +main channel, and then its branches. You +will find the main channel cut by the first +and last lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would that the structure brave, the manifold music I build,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><p style="word-spacing: 0.75em;"><b>· · · · ·</b></p> +<span class="i0"><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would it might tarry like his, the beautiful building of mine—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>All between, beginning with the second line, +"Bidding my organ obey," and including the +last words of the eighth line, "the princess<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +he loved," is a branch channel, leading away +from and coming back to the main river's +bed. But this branch channel is interrupted +in turn by its own branch leading away from +it and returning with it to join the main bed +with the last line we quote. This second +branch begins in the middle of the third line +with the words, "As when Solomon willed," +wanders in this course for five lines, and, +rejoining the first offshoot, returns to the +main channel with the last line. Now turn +on the stream, the <i>Voice</i>, and watch it flow +into the course as traced. Analyze the reading +as to the use of pause and change of +pitch.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h4>STUDY IN INFLECTION</h4> + +<p>To me, the most notable among the many +notable elements in Madame Alla Nazimova's +acting is her illumination of the text of her +impersonations through <i>inflection</i>. To an ear +unaccustomed to the "broken music" of her +speech, a word may now and then be lost be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>cause +of her still faulty English, but of her +attitude toward the thought she is uttering, +or the person she is addressing, or the situation +she is meeting, there can never be a +moment's doubt—so illuminating is the inflectional +play of her voice. The tone she +uses is not to me pleasing in quality. It +does not fall in liquid alluring cadences upon +the ear as does Miss Marlowe's, for instance. +It is always keyed high, whether the child-wife +Nora, or Hedda, omnivorous of experience, +is speaking. But this high-pitched tone +is endlessly volatile. It is restless. It never +lets your attention wander. It is never monotonous. +It is a master of <i>inflection</i>. Madame +Nazimova's emotion is always primarily +intellectual. It always proceeds from a +mind keenly alive to the instant's incident. +This intensely intellectual temperament reveals +itself through her voice in a rare degree +of inflectional agility. Recall the revelation +of Nora's soul in her cry: "It is +not possible! It is not possible!" Madame +Nazimova's conception of the mistress of +<i>The Doll's House</i> is concentrated in these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +four words—in her inflection of the last word, +I may almost say. When I close my eyes +and think of Madame Nazimova's voice I +see a grove of soft maples in early October +with the sun playing upon them, while Miss +Marlowe's tone carries me at once into the +pine woods, where a white birch now and +then shimmers its yellow leaves. Again, +the voice of the Russian actress suggests a +handful of diamonds, and the American instrument +a set of turquoise in the matrix. +The difference in these two agents of two +compelling personalities is, of course, the result +of a difference in the two temperaments; +but undoubtedly it also arises from a difference +in methods of training. Whatever +the temperament, light and shade can be +developed in the voice through practice of +inflection; and whatever the temperament, +a pure tone can be secured through a mastery +of support of breath and freedom of vocal +conditions. The voices of these two actresses +vividly illustrate these two points. We shall +study how to secure Miss Marlowe's tone. +We are now to work for Madame Nazimova's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +light and shade, so far as a mastery of inflection +will secure it. How shall we proceed?</p> + +<p>"All my life," writes Ellen Terry, in her +entrancing memoirs, "the thing which has +struck me as wanting on the stage is variety. +Some people are tone-deaf, and they find it +physically impossible to observe the law of +contrasts. But even a physical deficiency +can be overcome by that faculty of taking +infinite pains." That is the secret of successful +acquisition in any direction, is it not—the +<i>faculty of taking infinite pains</i>? With +Ellen Terry it resulted in a voice which in +its prime estate suggested, it is said, all the +riotous colors of all the autumns, or Henry +Ward Beecher's most varied collection of +precious stones. We can secure an approximate +result by employing the same method. +Let us proceed with infinite pains to practise, +practise, practise inflection.</p> + +<p>Let us first examine this <i>change of pitch +within a word</i> which we call inflection. How +does the pitch change, and why, and what +does the change indicate? We have dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>covered +that a change of thought results +in a broad change of pitch from word to +word, phrase to phrase, sentence to sentence, +and we shall discover that a change in emotion +results in a change in the color of the +tone we are using; but this element of our +vocal vocabulary, inflection, is subtler than +either of the other two. While change of +pitch is an intellectual modulation, and variation +in tone-color is an emotional modulation, +<i>inflection</i>, in a degree, combines both. It +is a change in both color and key within the +word. It is primarily of intellectual significance, +but it also reveals certain temperamental +characteristics which cannot be disassociated +with emotion. For instance, the +staccato utterance of Mrs. Fiske is technically +the result of her use of straight, swift-falling +inflections, but it is temperamentally +the result of thinking and feeling in terms +of Becky Sharp.</p> + +<p>Let us see how inflections vary. They rise +and fall swiftly or slowly. They move in a +straight line from point to point, or make a +curve. (The latter we call circumflex in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>flection.) +They make various angles with +the original level of pitch, rising or falling +abruptly or gradually. These are some of +the variations, each indicating an attitude +of the mind and heart of the speaker toward +the thought, or toward the one spoken to, or +toward the circumstances out of which the +speech arises. All must be mastered for use +at will if light and shade are to be developed +in the voice.</p> + +<p>Now let us take a phrase or sentence, and +voice it under a certain condition, noting the +inflection of the word or words which hold +the thought of the phrase or sentence in solution. +Then let us change the condition and +again voice the thought, noting the change +in inflection. Let me propound a profound +question,—"Do you like growing old?" +The answers will all be "yes" or "no." But +what of the inflection of those monosyllabic +words? <i>Sweet Sixteen</i> will employ a straight, +swift-falling inflection on the affirmative (unless +some untoward influence, such as "<i>Love</i> +the <i>Destroyer</i>," has embittered her life, when +she may give us one of <i>May Iverson's</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +adorable replies, masked in indifference and +circumlocution). <i>Twenty</i> will employ the +straight-falling inflection without the swiftness +of Sweet Sixteen's slide. With <i>twenty-five</i> +we detect a faint sign of a curve in the more +gradual fall. <i>Twenty-eight</i> to <i>thirty-five</i> employs +various degrees of circumflex, according +to the desire—or possibility—of concealing +the real facts. <i>Forty</i> to <i>forty-five</i>, +if in defiant mood, employs the abrupt-falling +inflection, or, if quite honest, changes to +the negative with as swift and straight a +fall. This lasts through sixty-five, and at +<i>seventy</i> we hear a new and gentle circumflex +of the "no," until the pride of extreme old +age sets in at <i>eighty-five</i> with the swift fall +of sixteen's affirmative. Were it not expedient +to maintain friendly relations with +one's printer, I should venture to diagram +these changes of tone within a word. As it +is, I shall content myself with advising you +to do so.</p> + +<p>It is my privilege to have had acquaintance +with a woman who was a personal +friend of Emerson. Among the incidents of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +his delightful talk with her, retold to me, I +recall one which bears upon our present problem. +They were discussing mutual "Friends +on the Shelf." "Have you ever read <i>Titan</i>?" +asked the gentle seer. "Yes," replied the +lady. "Read it again!" said he. Query to +the class: How did the lady inflect the word +<i>Yes</i> to call forth the injunction, <i>Read it +again</i>? What did her inflection reveal?</p> + +<p>However inclined we may be to quarrel +with Bernhardt's conception of the Duke of +Reichstadt, we can never forget her disclosure +of the Eaglet's frail soul through <i>inflection</i> +as she crushes letter after letter in +her hand and tosses them aside, uttering +the simple words, <i>Je déchire</i>, and the final +revelation in the quick, thrilling curve of her +wonderful voice on the same words as the +little cousin leaves the room at the close of +this episode of the letters.</p> + +<p>No better material can be chosen for a +study of inflection than the paragraph from +Emerson's <i>Friendship</i>, quoted in a preceding +chapter. Let us repeat the first sentence +again. "Our friendships hurry to short<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +and poor conclusions because we have made +them a texture of wine and dreams instead of +the tough fiber of the human heart." Study, +in voicing this, how to illumine the thought +by your contrastive inflection of the words +"wine and dreams" and "tough fiber of the +human heart." A lingering circumflex cadence +in uttering the first two words will suggest +the unstable nature of a friendship woven +out of so frail a fabric as wine and dreams, +while a swift, strong, straight-falling inflection +on each of the last six words indicates +the vigorous growth of a love rooted in the +tough fiber of the human heart.</p> + +<p>In <i>Monna Vanna</i> Maurice Maeterlinck gives +the actress a superb opportunity to show her +mastery of inflection. Let us turn to the +scene in Prinzivalle's tent:<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Prinzivalle.</span> Are you in pain?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vanna.</span> No!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prinzivalle.</span> Will you let me have it [her +wound] dressed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vanna.</span> No! (Pause.)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prinzivalle.</span> You are decided?</p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +<p><span class="smcap">Vanna.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prinzivalle.</span> Need I recall the terms of +the—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vanna.</span> It is useless—I know them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prinzivalle.</span> Your lord consents.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vanna.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prinzivalle.</span> It is my mind to leave you +free....</p> + +<p>There is yet time should you desire to renounce....</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vanna.</span> No!</p></div> + +<p>And so the seeming inquisition proceeds. +To each relentlessly searching interrogation +from Gianello comes Vanna's unfaltering reply, +in a single, swift monosyllable, "Yes" +or "No." The same word, but, oh, the revelation +which may lie in the inflection of that +word! Let us try it. Let us read the scene +aloud, first giving as nearly as possible the +same inflection to each of Vanna's answers, +then let us voice it again, putting into the +curve of the tone within the narrow space of +the two or three lettered monosyllables all +the concentrated mental passion of Vanna's +soul in its attitude toward the terrible situation +and toward the man whom she believes +to be her enemy. This is a most difficult<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +exercise, but if "a man's reach should exceed +his grasp," it will not retard our progress +toward the goal of a vocal vocabulary to +attempt it now. Apart from all aim in its +pursuit, there is no more fascinating study +than this study of inflection. In this day of +artistic photography there is an endless interest +for the artist of the camera in playing +with a subject's expression by varying the +light and shade thrown upon the face. So +for the student of vocal expression there is +endless interest in this play with the thought +behind a group of words by varying the inflection +of those words. Lady Macbeth's, +"We fail!" or Macbeth's, "If it were done +when 'tis done, then 'twere well it were done +quickly," occurs to us, of course, as rich +material for this exercise.</p> + +<p>In her analysis of the character of Lady +Macbeth Mrs. Jameson gives us an interesting +study in inflection, based on Mrs. +Siddons's interpretation of the words "We +fail." A foot-note reads: "In her impersonation +of the part of Lady Macbeth Mrs. +Siddons adopted successively three different<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +intonations in giving the words 'we fail.' +At first a quick, contemptuous interrogation—'we +fail?' Afterward with the note of +admiration—'we fail!' and an accent of indignant +astonishment laying the principal +emphasis on the word we—'<i>we</i> fail!' Lastly, +she fixed on what I am convinced is the true +reading—'<i>we fail</i>'—with the simple period, +modulating the voice to a deep, low, resolute +tone which settled the issue at once, as +though she had said: 'If we fail, why then +we fail, and all is over.'"</p> + +<p>Think how vitally the total impersonation +is affected by your choice of inflections at +this point. Compare the effects of the three, +Mrs. Siddons tested. Are there other possible +intonations of the words? What are +they? Do you realize the vital effect upon +the voice of such vocal analysis and experimentation? +Devote ten minutes of the +time you take for reading each day to this +phase of vocal interpretation, and at the +end of a week note its effect upon your silent +reading and upon your voice.</p> + +<p>Remember, with inflection, as with every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +other phase of the training, the greatest immediate +benefit will come from holding the +question of its peculiar significance constantly +in mind. Study the temperament of the +people about you by noting this element in +their speech. Study the attitude of every +interlocutor you face, by studying the inflection +of his replies to the questions of life +and death you propound. But, above all, +study your own use of this element. Do +not let your own attitude go undetected. +It may help you to alter an unfortunate +attitude to realize its effect upon your own +voice.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h4>STUDY IN TONE-COLOR</h4> + +<p>And now we must turn to our last point +of discussion, tone-color. What is the nature +of this element of our vocabulary—this +<i>Klangfarbe</i>, this <i>Timbre</i>? Upon what +does it depend? You will say, "It is a property +of the voice depending upon the form +of the vibrations which produce the tone."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +True! And physiologically the form of the +vibrations depends upon the condition of the +entire vocal apparatus. <i>Tone-color</i>, then, is +a modulation of resonance. But what concerns +us is the fact that it is an <i>emotional</i> +modulation of resonance. What concerns us +is the fact that, as a change of thought instantly +registers itself in a change of pitch, +so a change of emotion instantly produces a +change in the color of the tone—if the voice +is a free instrument. And so, as before, I +want you not to think of the physiological +aspect, but to yield to the emotion, noting +the character of the resultant tone, regardless +of what has happened in the larynx to +produce that result.</p> + +<p>As Browning affords us the best material +for our study in change of pitch, so the poems +of Sidney Lanier offer to the voice the richest +field for exercise in tone-color. Musician +and poet in one, Lanier's peculiar charm lies +in his unerring choice of words, which suggest +in their sound, when rightly voiced, the atmosphere +of the scene he is painting. Lanier +uses words as Corot uses colors. This gives<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> +the voice its opportunity to bring out by +subtle variations in <i>timbre</i> the variations in +light and shade of an atmosphere. To read +aloud, sympathetically, once a day, Lanier's +<i>The Symphony</i> is the best possible way to +develop simultaneously all the elements of +a vocal vocabulary. We shall use this poem +to-day as a text for our study in tone-color. +Let us omit the message of the violins and +heavier strings, and take the passage beginning +with the interlude upon which the flute-voice +breaks:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But presently<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A velvet flute-note fell down pleasantly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the bosom of that harmony,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sailed and sailed incessantly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if a petal from a wild rose blown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had fluttered down upon that pool of tone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And boatwise dropped o' the convex side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And floated down the glassy tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clarified and glorified<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solemn spaces where the shadows bide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the warm concave of that fluted note<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somewhat, half song, half odor, forth did float,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As if a rose might somehow be a throat; ...<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>What an ideal for tone-color! Dare we +think to make it ours? We must. We must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +adopt it with confidence of attainment. Let +me quote a little further:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Nature from her far-off glen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flutes her soft messages to men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flute can say them o'er again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, Nature, singing sweet and lone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathes through life's strident polyphone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flute-voice in the world of tone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Read this passage aloud as a mere statement +of fact, employing a matter-of-fact +tone. Gray in color, is it not? Now let +your voice take the color Lanier has blended +for you. Let your tone, like a thing "half +song, half odor," float forth on these words +and linger as only a perfume can about the +thought. Now let the tone change in color +to clarify and glorify the following message +from the flute:<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet friends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Man's love ascends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To finer and diviner ends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than man's mere thought e'er comprehends.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I cannot, for lack of space, reprint the +whole flute message, but you will get the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +poem, if you have it not, and voice every +word of it, I am sure. Here are some of the +most telling lines for our present purpose:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I speak for each no-tongued tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, spring by spring, doth nobler be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dumbly and most wistfully<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His mighty prayerful arms outspreads<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above men's oft-unheeding heads,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his big blessing downward sheds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I speak for all-shaped blooms and leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lichens on stones and moss on eaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grasses and grains in ranks and sheaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broad-fronded ferns and keen-leaved canes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And briery mazes bounding lanes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And marsh-plants, thirsty-cupped for rains,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And milky stems and sugary veins;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For every long-armed woman-vine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That round a piteous tree doth twine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For passionate odors, and divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pistils, and petals crystalline;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><p style="word-spacing: 0.75em;"><b>· · · · ·</b></p> +<span class="i0"><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All tree-sounds, rustlings of pine-cones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wind-sighings, doves' melodious moans,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And night's unearthly undertones;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All placid lakes and waveless deeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All cool reposing mountain-steeps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vale-calms and tranquil lotos-sleeps;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, all fair forms, and sounds, and lights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warmths, and mysteries, and mights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Nature's utmost depths and heights,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span><span class="i0">—These doth my timid tongue present,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their mouthpiece and leal instrument<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And servant, all love-eloquent.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>You see, to voice this message a mood born +of all the "warmths and mysteries and mights +of Nature's utmost depths and heights" must +take possession of you, and you must yield +your instrument to the expression of that +mood. Then watch, watch, watch the color +of the tone change as the voice, starting with +the clear flute-note, follows sympathetically +the varying phases of Nature's face which the +poet has so sympathetically painted. And +now, after a "thrilling calm," the flute yields +its place to a sister instrument, and the tone +must change its <i>timbre</i> to the reed note of the +clarionet. In the "melting" message of that +instrument we find two passages which afford +the voice chance for a most vivid contrast in +color. Beginning with the line, "Now comes +a suitor with sharp, prying eye," read the +two descriptions which follow, lending your +voice to the atmosphere of each:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i> ... Here, you Lady, if you'll sell I'll buy:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Come, heart for heart—a trade? What! weeping? why?</i><br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span><span class="i0">Shame on such wooer's dapper mercery!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would my lover kneeling at my feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In humble manliness should cry, <i>O sweet!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I know not if thy heart my heart will greet:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I ask not if thy love my love can meet:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Whate'er thy worshipful soft tongue shall say,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I'll kiss thine answer, be it yea or nay:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I do but know I love thee, and I pray</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To be thy knight until my dying day.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The first two lines, which set forth a suit +in terms of trade, demand a hard, calculating +tone, suggestive of large silver dollars. Call +this color dull steel gray. This tone flashes +out for a moment in the white indignation +of the third line, softens and warms with the +next two lines, then grows and glows until +it reaches a crimson radiance in the last two +lines. Try it!</p> + +<p>And now, with "heartsome voice of mellow +scorn," let us sound the message of the +"bold straightforward horn."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now comfort thee," said he,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"Fair Lady.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For God shall right thy grievous wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And man shall sing thee a true-love song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Voiced in act his whole life long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, all thy sweet life long,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Fair Lady.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where's he that craftily hath said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The day of chivalry is dead?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll prove that lie upon his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or I will die instead,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Fair Lady.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><p style="word-spacing: 0.75em;"><b>· · · · ·</b></p> +<span class="i0"><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now by each knight that e'er hath prayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fight like a man and love like a maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Pembroke's life as Pembroke's blade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I' the scabbard, death was laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I dare avouch my faith is bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That God doth right and God hath might.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor time hath changed His hair to white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor His dear love to spite,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Fair Lady.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I doubt no doubts: I strive, and shrive my clay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fight my fight in the patient modern way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For true love and for thee—ah me! and pray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be thy knight until my dying day,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Fair Lady."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Made end that knightly horn, and spurred away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into the thick of the melodious fray.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Remember your <i>key</i> is set for you,—the +color of the tone is plainly chosen for you +by Mr. Lanier. Not red nor yellow, but a +blending of the two. <i>Orange</i>, is it not? Will +not an orange tone give us the feel of heartsome +confidence behind and through the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> +mellow scorn of the knight's message? Try +it! Let the two primary colors, red and yellow, +enter in varying degrees according to, +or following, the emotional variation in the +thought, as the knight or the lover dominates +in the message. In the first seven +lines the tone glows with the love radiance +and the orange deepens toward red. With +the next five lines the lover yields to the +knight, and the tone flashes forth a golden, +keen-edged sword. With the thirteenth line +the tone begins in the orange on "Now by +each knight that e'er hath prayed," flashes +into yellow in "to fight like a man," softens +and deepens toward red in "and love like a +maid," and returns to the orange to finish +the horn <i>motif</i>.</p> + +<p>Next in this poem which affords such a +wonderful study for tone-color we have the +hautboy's message. The color is mixed and +laid on the palette ready for use as before, +with the introductory lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And then the hautboy played and smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sang like any large-eyed Child,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cool-hearted and all undefiled.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>Don't let the words <i>large-eyed Child</i> mislead +you. Don't, I beseech you, make the +mistake of adopting the "Little Orphan +Annie" tone with which the "elocutionist" +too often insults the pure treble of a child's +"undefiled" instrument. That is the keynote +to us for our choice of color—"cool-hearted +and all undefiled." Almost a white +tone, is it not? With a little of the blue of +the June sky? Try it. Let the blue be visibly +present in the first three lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Huge Trade!" he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Would thou wouldst lift me on thy head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And run where'er my finger led!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>turning to pure white in the next three lines:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Once said a Man—and wise was He—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never shalt thou the heavens see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save as a little child thou be.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The last voice comes from the "ancient wise +bassoons." Again there is danger. Do not, +oh! do not fall afoul of the conventional old +man's quavering tone. There is nothing +conventional about these "weird, gray-beard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +old harpers sitting on the high sea-dunes," +chanting runes. The last words of these +introductory lines safeguard us—"chanted +runes." There is only one color of tone in +which to <i>chant runes</i>. Gray, is it not? +Yes, but a silver gray, not the steel gray of +the clarionet when she became for the moment +a commercial lover. Then in the silver-gray +tone of the philosopher, voice this +last <i>motif</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bright-waved gain, gray-waved loss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea of all doth lash and toss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One wave forward and one across:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now 'twas trough, now 'tis crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And worst doth foam and flash to best,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And curst to blest.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The importance of a right use of tone-color +in vocal interpretation was impressed upon +a Browning class last winter. We were reading +the <i>Dramatic Lyrics</i>. The poem for the +hour was <i>Meeting at Night</i>. The tone with +which the first student attacked this exquisite +love-lyric was so businesslike, so matter +of fact, so utterly out of key, that we who +listened saw not the lover hastening to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +beloved, but a real-estate agent "out to buy" +a farm. The "gray sea, the long black land, +the yellow half-moon large and low, the startled +little waves that creep in fiery ringlets +from their sleep, the pushing prow of the +boat quenched in the slushy sand, the warm, +sea-scented beach, and the three fields" all +assumed a merely commercial value. They +were interesting exactly as would be a catalogue +of properties in a deed of real estate. +If you are not a very <i>intense</i> member of +a Browning society you will, I think, enjoy +the test of tone-color involved in reading this +poem from the contrasted standpoints of the +business man and the lover. Of course, in the +first instance you must stop where I, in desperation, +stopped the student on the words, +"a farm appears." For I defy any one to +read the last two lines in a gray, matter-of-fact +tone.</p> + +<p>As was the case in our consideration of +inflection, so in this study of tone-color +there is an embarrassment of rich material +for the exercise of this element. Lanier's +<i>Sunrise</i> and <i>Corn</i>; Browning's prologue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +to <i>The Two Poets of Croisic</i>, with a vivid +contrast of color in each verse; Swinburne's +almost every line; Dante Gabriel Rossetti, +Wordsworth, Keats, Tennyson—but why +enumerate? All the colorists among the +poets will reward your search of a text for +the development of <i>timbre</i>.</p> + +<p>For a final brief study of the three elements +we aim to acquire, with especial emphasis +in thought upon the last one, let us +take this prologue to <i>The Two Poets of +Croisic</i>, with its color-contrast in each +verse:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such a starved bank of moss<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till that May morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blue ran the flash across:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Violets were born!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sky—what a scowl of cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till, near and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ray on ray split the shroud:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Splendid, a star!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">World—how it walled about<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Life with disgrace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till God's own smile came out:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That was thy face<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>The vocal treatment of the first two verses +will be very much alike. The voice starts in +minor key, a gray monotone, in harmony +with the absence of color in the bare bank +of dull moss. The inflection of the word +"starved" must emphasize the grayness. It +must be a dull push of the tone on the first +syllable, with little, if any, lift above the +level of the low pitch on which the whole +line is spoken. With a swift, salient, rising +inflection on the opening word of the second +line, an inflection which creates expectancy +of change, the voice lifts the thought out of +the minor into the major key. I must call +your attention to the vital significance of +the use of pause at this point by simply +asking you to indulge in it. Stop after uttering +the word <i>till</i> and study the effect of +the pause. It is the pause quite as much +as the inflection, you see, which induces the +expectant attitude you desire to create in the +mind of your auditor. With the next three +words, "that May morn," the tone takes on +a bit of the warmth of early summer. A +lingering cadence on the word "May" will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +help the suggestion. With the third line the +voice begins to shine. I know no other way +to express it. The inflections are swift and +straight, but not staccato, because they must +suggest a growth, not a burst of color. The +tone on which the words are borne must be +continuous. It must not be broken off definitely +with each word, as is to prove most +effective, we shall find, in handling the third +line of the second verse. The fourth line +brings the full, glowing, radiant tone on the +first word, "violets." This tone must be +held in full volume on the last two words. +The law for beautiful speech must be observed +here. (But where should it not be +observed?) Let us recall the law, "<i>Beautiful +speech depends upon openness of vowels +and definiteness of consonants.</i>" The vowels +give volume to a word, the consonants form. +Slur your consonants and squeeze your vowels +in the three words of this line, "Violets +were born," and what becomes of this +miracle of spring? The voicing of the second +verse is very like that of the first. The +opening line demands the same gray mono<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>tone. +But the three words, "sky," "scowl," +and "cloud," if clear-cut in utterance, as +they should be, will break the level of the +line more than the single word "starved" in +the first line of the first verse can do, or was +meant to do. There is the same swift lift +of the voice in the opening word of the second +line, the same change to the major key, the +same growing glow in the tone on the third +line, and the same radiant outburst of color +sustained through the last line. The only +difference lies in the suffusion of radiance in +the tone to suggest the coming of color to +the bank, in the first verse, and the outburst +of radiance to suggest the sudden splitting +of the clouds and the star's swift birth, in +the second verse. With the emotional change +of thought in the last verse, from a travail +and birth in nature to a human soul's struggle +and rebirth, the deepening color which +creeps into the tone indicates the entrance +of personal passion. The key does not change. +The inflections are still and straight. The tone +simply deepens and glows in the last two lines, as +a prayerful ecstasy possesses the one who reads.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></a>PART III</h2> + +<h3>STUDIES IN VOCAL TECHNIQUE</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="STUDIES_IN_VOCAL_TECHNIQUE" id="STUDIES_IN_VOCAL_TECHNIQUE"></a>STUDIES IN VOCAL TECHNIQUE</h2> + + +<h4>THE UNINTERRUPTED TONE</h4> + +<p>When a rich, dramatic temperament +seeks for its instrument of expression +the control of faultless technique the result +ought to be art of the highest order. Such +is the art of Gracia Ricardo. She has translated +her English name into musical Italian, +but does her country the honor to announce +her beautiful voice as an American soprano.</p> + +<p>Every tone of Gracia Ricardo's singing +voice is as absolutely free from effort as the +repeated note of the hermit thrush's song, +and her tone as pure tone has the effect of +that liquid call. But could you freight the +thrush note with knowledge of human passion,—with +throb of joy or pulse of pain, you +would get from it the effect of Gracia Ricardo's +singing of a Heine-Schubert song,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +a Schumann, Brahms, or Franz <i>lied</i>, or one of +our English ballads. It must always be a +song, for Gracia Ricardo does not exploit her +voice in astonishing vocal feats. She simply +<i>sings her song</i>. It was her wish to interpret +the <i>lieder</i> of all countries that sent her in +search of a method which would free her +voice to that high use. She found that +method, not in her own country, alas, but +in Germany, where for twelve years she has +used it in the guidance of her own voice +and that of many others. She finds the +American pupil "difficult," because "You +are so impatient of a long, quiet preparation. +You wish to try your skill at every +step of the way—and not in the privacy of +your study, but in a public's hearing." Poor +American public! How it has suffered from +this <i>impatience</i>. It is true, is it not, we +are not willing to take time to establish +a right condition for tone before using the +tone in what should be final efforts of the +perfected instrument. <i>Blessed be drudgery</i> +has not become a beatitude in the gospel of +the American artist. When it is so recog<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>nized +by the student of vocal expression +perhaps we can reclaim this great singer and +teacher, Madame Ricardo. This book would +further that end.</p> + +<p>It has been my good fortune while making +this book for you to do some brief but intensive +studying under Madame Ricardo. It is +by her gracious consent that I shall leave with +you as an incentive toward the ideal for +which we are striving the two <i>watchwords</i> of +her teaching which were most potently suggestive +to me. The exercises which constitute +her method require personal supervision, +but the active principle of those +exercises for both tone production and +breath control is clearly indicated by the two +phrases "the uninterrupted tone" and "the +constant mouth-breath." These two ideas +fully sensed by a voice will work swift wonders +in its use.</p> + +<p>Like Mr. Mabie's pool of expectancy, these +watchwords of the Ricardo method suggest +their own application; but let us consider +them somewhat more closely. Think then +with me of an <i>uninterrupted tone</i>—a tone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +which is not interfered with at any point in +its production. Think of a breath that flows +freely on and on, constantly reinforced, but +never interrupted—a breath that is allowed +to enter the vocal box, pass between the +vocal chords, where it is converted into tone; +yield itself to the organs of speech and controlled +by the speech process, issue from the +mouth in beautiful speech forms, in the +words which constitute a language!</p> + +<p>Tracing the process of tone production in +this way, we find that three distinct steps +are involved. Even as I write the words +distinct and steps I realize their inharmony +with the idea of flowing tone. Rather then +let us say three phases in the evolution of +speech: <i>breath</i>, <i>tone</i>, <i>speech</i>. In using the +word speech to designate the final phase in +this evolution I am thinking of it in its +broadest sense—really in a sense identical +with language. With this final phase beyond +its mere initiation this book cannot +deeply concern itself. For work along this +line I must refer you to Prof. T. R. Lounsbury's +<i>Standard of Pronunciation in English</i>;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +to the article on <i>The Acquiring of Clear Speech</i> +by John D. Barry, published in <i>Harper's Bazaar</i> +for August, September, and October, 1907; to +<i>The Technique of Speech</i>, by Dora Duty Jones.</p> + +<p>Not technique of speech, but <i>technique</i> of +<i>tone</i> is our study. Not how to make beautiful +speech forms, but how to make beautiful +speech-tones; not how to distinguish one +speech from another in a language, or the +speech forms of one language from those of +another, but how to distinguish interrupted +speech-tone from <i>uninterrupted</i> speech-tone—such +is our problem.</p> + +<p>But tone is breath before it becomes +speech, so our first concern is with the +initial stage. The process of breath control +in the Ricardo method of tone production (as +in my own) is analogous to the process of +pumping water. Let your chest with its +lungs represent the reservoir, your diaphragm, +the great muscle at the base of the lungs, +becomes the piston and your mouth the +mouth of the pump. If the mouth of the +pump runs dry the pump itself runs down +and has to be primed. Priming a pump<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +is precisely analogous to "catching your +breath" in speech.</p> + +<p>The active principle of breath control in +the Ricardo method is the idea of a <i>constant +mouth-breath</i>. A sense of uninterrupted +breath is as essential to a knowledge of correct +tone as a sense of uninterrupted tone +is to a knowledge of correct speech and song.</p> + +<p>In breathing to speak or sing there must +be such perfect diaphragmatic control that +the mouth shall never be out of breath. You +must learn in speaking and reading to take +easily and quietly breath enough and <i>often +enough</i> to supply the tone which is to be +made into a single word, a phrase, a sentence, +or a series of sentences, and leave the mouth-breath +unexhausted, even unaffected. You +must never catch your breath; the breath +must pass continuously, the <i>mouth-breath</i> +remaining a <i>constant</i> quantity.</p> + +<p>It was gratifying in my work with this +master of tone production to find that my +own method in the training of the speaking +voice was in accord at almost every point +with her method in the training of the sing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span>ing +voice. In reprinting for you the exposition +of my own method, as set down in +<i>The Speaking Voice</i>, I have found it necessary +to make but few changes. I have +altered entirely the method of handling the +tongue. I have added a word as to the +part the lips play in the production of speech. +In the few exercises it is safe to offer under +the reinforcing of tone I have used the <i>[=e]</i> +instead of the <i>ä</i>, convinced that it is the +more effective vowel sound through which +to work for uninterrupted tone.</p> + +<p>It was also a pleasure to find my own +instrument, through its training for speech, +adequately prepared for the work in song. +The studies which constitute <i>Part Three</i> of +this book, if faithfully attended, will fit your +voices for higher work in either art.</p> + + +<h4>LEARNING TO SUPPORT THE TONE</h4> + +<p>Before attempting the exercises involved +in the first step, let us examine a tone in +the making, or, rather, let us feel how it is +made—for the process of tone production, +so far as it concerns us, is not of physio<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>logical, +but rather psychological, significance. +The huge tomes on the physiology +of the voice which are of vital interest to the +student of anatomy are not only of no use, +but are apt to be a positive hindrance to the +student of vocal training. A vivid picture +of the larynx or vocal cords, a cross-section +of the trachea, or a highly illuminated image +of any of the cavities concerned in the production +of that most wonderful thing in the +world, a pure tone of the human voice, is a +source of delight to the physiologist, but will +only interfere with that <i>feel</i> for the free, full +volume of sound which the student of voice +as an instrument of thought and emotion +is to make, as a first step in vocal training. +Then, not as anatomists or physiologists, but +as makers of music, let us look at, let us feel +for, a tone.</p> + +<p>I am "stung by the splendor of a sudden +thought"; I desire to share it with you; the +desire causes me to take a deep breath, a +column of air rises, is converted into tone, +passes into the mouth, and is moulded into +the words which symbolize my thought.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +Let us, without further analysis, try this. +Close your eyes, think of some line of prose +or poetry which has moved you profoundly; +let it take possession of you until you are +seized by the desire to voice it. Still with +closed eyes, feel yourself take the breath +which is to be made into tone, and then +into the words which stand for the thought. +Hold that sensation, and study it with me +for a moment. "But," you say, "the desire +to voice the thought does not seize me." +Very well, let me ask you a question. "Do +you believe in examinations?" Now your +thought was converted so swiftly into speech +that you had no time to study the conversion. +Once more, whether your answer be +Yes or No, close your eyes and feel for +the tone you are to use in making the single +word.</p> + +<p>Now, a little more in detail, let us see what +happens. A thought full of emotion meets +the question, the desire to answer is born; +the need of breath to meet the desire contracts +the diaphragm (the pump); the chest +(the reservoir) fills; a column of air, pumped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +and controlled by the diaphragm, and reinforced +in the chest, rises, strikes the vocal +cords (the "strings" of the instrument), +the strings vibrate, converting the air into +sound, into tone; the tone, reinforced in all +the chambers of the head, passes into the +mouth, and is there moulded by the juxtaposition +of the organs of speech (lips, teeth, +tongue) into the word, the single, monosyllabic +word, Yes or No, which frames the +thought. Now, once more, with closed eyes, +sense the process and hold the sensation, but +do not speak the word. Now, still once +more, and this time, speak. Alas! did we +say we were "makers of music"? Is this +harmony,—this harsh, hard, breathy, strident +note? What is the trouble?</p> + +<p>First of all, fundamental to all, and beyond +a doubt the secret of the dissonance, you did +not breathe before you spoke or as you spoke. +I mean, really breathe. And that is the first +point to be attacked. Breathe, breathe, +breathe! you must learn how to breathe; you +must get your pump, your diaphragm, into +working order, you must master it, you must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +control it, you must not fetter it, you must +give it a free chance to do its work. If you +are a man, you have probably at least been +fair in not tying down your pump; you have +not incased yourself in steel bands and +drawn them so tight that your diaphragm +could not descend and perform its office. Yes, +and if you are the athletic girl of to-day, +you have probably learned the delight and +benefit of free muscular action. But you +may still be suffering from the effect of your +mother's crime in this direction. It may +have sent you into the world with weakened +muscles in control of the great pumping-station +upon which must depend the beauty +of your voice.</p> + +<p>But whatever the condition or the cause, +it must, if wrong, be made right. We must +learn to breathe properly, freely, naturally. +(Do not confuse <i>naturally</i> and "habitually." +In this connection these terms are opposites +rather than synonyms.) To breathe +naturally we must do away with all constriction. +We must choose between the alleged +beauty of a disproportionately small<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +waist and the charm of a beautiful and alluring +voice. We cannot have both. Then, +off with tight corsets! Thank Heaven! they +are the exception and not the rule to-day. +Please note that I distinctly do not say, +"Off with corsets," but only "Off with <i>ill-fitting</i> +corsets," for which tight is but another +name. I believe, to digress a moment, +with our present method of dress, a +properly fitted corset is an absolute necessity, +except in the rare instances where a perfectly +proportioned and slender figure is also under +the control of firm, well-trained muscles. +In a first flush of rapture over the vision of +the gentle ladies of Mr. Howell's Altruria, +seen <i>Through the Eye of the Needle</i>, we feel +that we can take a step toward that paradise +by discarding the strait-laced tailored torture +the present-day costume prescribes, for the +corsetless grace of the Altrurian garment; +but our enthusiasm is short-lived, as we +realize that we are in modern America and +must make as inconspicuously gracious an +appearance as possible without violating the +conventions. So, as I say, do not discard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +the corset, which is, for the majority of women, +the saving grace of the present fashion +in dress; only see that your corset brings +out what is best in the figure God gave you, +instead of disfiguring it, as undue constriction +of any part of your body will inevitably do. +Incidentally, by this precaution, save your +voice as well.</p> + +<p>But until we can be refitted, or readjust +the corsets we already wear, and the gowns +made over them, we must avoid the discouraging +effect of trying to work against the +odds of a costume which interferes with our +breathing, by making a practice of taking the +breathing exercises involved in the first step, +at night and in the morning. Five minutes +of deep, free breathing from the diaphragm, +lying flat on your back in bed at night and +before you rise in the morning, will accomplish +the desired result. The point in lying +flat on your back is that in that position +alone you can be sure you are breathing naturally, +which is diaphragmatically. Indeed, +you cannot, without great effort, and sometimes +not even then, breathe any other way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +than naturally. I cannot tell you why. I +can only say, try it and see.</p> + +<p>Our first exercise, then, is to lie flat on the +back at night and in the morning, when you +are perfectly free, and, with closed eyes, take +deep, long breaths, letting them go slowly, +and studying the accompanying sensation +until it is fixed fast and you feel you cannot +lose it, but can reproduce, under any condition, +the action which resulted in that sensation. +The incidental effect of this exercise +is to make one very sleepy. Indeed, nothing +will so quickly and effectually put to flight +that foe of the society woman and business +man of to-day, insomnia, as the practice of +deep, regular natural breathing. Add counting +each respiration, and it is an almost unfailing +remedy. The only trouble for our +purpose is that it is sometimes so swiftly +soporific that we are asleep before the sensation +is fixed fast and noted in consciousness: +which is one object of the exercise. However, +should we find the prescribed five minutes +at night interfered with by coming +drowsiness, we may yield in sleepy content,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +"sustained and soothed" by the thought that +we shall be in splendid shape for the morning +practice, with which nothing must interfere, +"not headache, or sciatica, or leprosy, +or thunder-stroke."</p> + +<p>We are ready now for the third exercise. +When, for five minutes in the morning, lying +flat on your back, with closed eyes, you have +taken deep, long breaths, letting them go +slowly, yielding your whole body to the act +of respiration, noting the effect and fixing +fast the sensation, as a next step you are to +stand up and repeat the operation. Still +holding the sensation (not by tightening your +muscles, or clenching your fists, or setting +your teeth, but simply by thinking the sensation, +letting it possess you), in this attitude +of mind breathe naturally, standing instead +of lying down. That is all. Don't be discouraged +if the test prove unsatisfactory at +first. Try an intermediate step. Sit on the +side of your bed, or in a straight-back chair, +and, closing your eyes and relaxing all your +muscles except those governing the diaphragm, +breathe. Now stand, well poised.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +By well poised, of course, you know I mean +with the weight perfectly balanced about the +center of gravity, which, in turn, means that +a perpendicular dropped from the highest +point of the lifted chest without encountering +any part of your body, and especially not +your abdomen (which should be held always +back, so that it is flat, if not actually concave) +will fall unobstructed to the floor, striking +a point just between the balls of your +feet. Standing thus, well poised, place the +right hand on your body, just below your +ribs at the base of the lungs, and your left +hand on your back, just opposite your right +hand; then breathe, and feel the diaphragm, +as it descends, cause the torso, in turn, to expand +from front to back, pressing against either +hand. Let the breath go slowly, controlling +its emission by controlling the diaphragm.</p> + +<p>So the three exercises stand progressively +thus:</p> + +<p><i>First.</i>—Breathe naturally, which is diaphragmatically, +five minutes at night. (At +first you can be sure of doing this only by +lying flat on your back.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Second.</i>—Breathe naturally, which is diaphragmatically, +for five minutes in the morning, +and note the sensation.</p> + +<p><i>Third.</i>—Stand and test your newly acquired +power by trying to breathe diaphragmatically +while on your feet.</p> + +<p>These three exercises constitute the first +step in the first stage of vocal training, and +that step is called <i>Learning to Support the +Tone</i>.</p> + +<p>I know a little girl who, in the beginning +of her career, alarmed her parents by refusing +to utter a syllable or the semblance of a +syllable until she was three years old, when +she evidently considered herself ready for her +maiden effort at speech. Prepared she proved, +for, sitting at the window in her high-chair +one day, watching people pass, she remarked +quietly and with perfect precision, "There +goes Mrs. Tibbets." I find myself secretly +wishing it were possible for you to refrain +from speech, not for three years, but for +three weeks, while you quietly prepare for +speech by practising these three breathing +exercises. It is quite the customary thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +(or ought to be) for the teacher of voice +as an instrument of song to require of +the student a period of silence—that is, a +period in which only exercises are allowed, +and songs, even the simplest, are forbidden. +However, our only way to secure this condition +would be to go into retreat; but, after +all, one of the most encouraging things about +this work is the remarkable effect upon the +speaking voice of simply holding the thought +of the right condition for tone, <i>thinking</i> the +three exercises I have given you. It is not +so remarkable, perhaps, in the light of the +experiment recently made (I am told) in one +of our great colleges, when three men daily +performed a certain exercise, and three other +men simply thought it intensely, and the resultant +effect upon the muscles used in the +act was marvelously similar. I am half +afraid to have recalled this, lest you take +advantage of the suggestion and relax your +effort, or, out of curiosity, make the experiment. +Please don't. I offer it only +as an incentive to you, to <i>think</i> at least +of the desired condition, if you cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +every day indulge in an active effort to +attain it.</p> + +<p>Please test at once the immediate effect of +this third exercise. Take the attitude I have +defined, and try once more any full-voweled +syllable. I think you will find the tone already +improved.</p> + + +<h4>LEARNING TO FREE THE TONE</h4> + +<p>We have worked, so far, for support of +tone. We must now free the supported tone, +by freeing the channel for the emission of +the breath as it is converted into tone and +moulded into speech. We shall find that in +learning to support the tone we have gone +far toward securing that freedom; but the +habit of years is not easily overcome, and +every time you have spoken without proper +support of breath you have <i>forced</i> the tone +<i>from</i> the <i>throat</i>, by tightening the muscles +and closing the channel, thus making conditions +which must now be reformed by steady, +patient effort. Yet it is not effort I want +from you now; it is <i>lack</i> of effort. It is +<i>passivity</i>; it is <i>surrender</i>. I want you to re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>lax +all the muscles which govern the organs +concerned in converting the breath into tone +and moulding the tone into speech, all the +muscles controlling the throat and mouth, +including the lips and jaw. I want utter +passivity of the parts from the point where +the column of breath strikes the vocal cords +to where, as tone, it is moulded into the +word "No." Surrender to the desire to utter +that word. Concentrate your thought on +two things: the taking of the breath and the +word it is to become. Now, lying down, or +sitting easily, lazily, in a comfortable chair, +or standing leaning against the wall, with +closed eyes, surrender to the thought "No," +and, taking a breath, speak. Still hard and +unmusical you find? Yes, but I am sure +not so hopelessly hard as before. What shall +we do to relax the tense muscles, to release +the throat and free the channel? At the risk +of being written down a propagandist, in the +ranks of the extreme dress-reformers, I shall +say, first of all, take off those high, tight +collars. Again, as with the corset, it is a +case of a misfit rather than too tight a fit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +If your collar is cut to fit, it need not be too +high nor too tight for comfort, and it will +still be becoming. You want it to cling to +the neck and keep the line. Cut it to fit, +and it will keep the line; then put in pieces +of whalebone, if necessary, or resort to some +of the many other devices now in vogue for +keeping the soft collar erect, but don't choke +yourself, either by fastening it too tight or +cutting it too high. But how simple it would +be if we could relax the tension by doffing +our ill-fitting corsets and collars. Alas! the +trouble is deeper seated than that.</p> + +<p>It is an indisputable and most unfortunate +fact that nervous tension registers itself more +easily in the muscles about the mouth and +throat than anywhere else. So, if we live as +do even the children of to-day, under excitement, +and so in a state of nervous tension, +the habit of speaking with the channel only +half open is quickly formed, and the voice +becomes shrill and harsh. You have noticed +that the more emphatic one grows in argument +the higher and harder the voice becomes, +and, incidentally, the less convincing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +the argument. This is true of all excitement; +the nervous tension accompanying it +constricts the throat, and the result is a +closed channel. To learn instinctively to refer +this tension for registration not to the +throat, but to the diaphragm, is a part of +vocal training. This can be easily accomplished +with children, and the habit established +of taking a deep breath under the influence +of any emotion. This breath will +cause the throat to open instead of shut, and +the tone to grow full, deep, and round, instead +of high and harsh. The full, deep, +round tone will carry twice as far as the +high, harsh, breathy one. The one deep +breath resulting in the full, deep tone may—nay, +will—often serve the same purpose as +Tattycoram's "Count five-and-twenty," and +save the angry retort.</p> + +<p>It is useless to regret, on either ethical or +aesthetic grounds, that we were not taught +in childhood to take the deep breath and +make the deep tone. But let us look to it +that the voices and dispositions of our children +are not allowed to suffer. Meanwhile,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +in correcting the fault in the use of our own +instruments, we shall go far toward establishing +the proper condition with the next +generation, since the child is so mimetic that, +to hear sweet, quiet, low tones about him +will have more effect than much technical +training in keeping his voice free and musical. +In the same way, the child who hears +good English spoken at home seems less dependent +upon text-books in grammar and +rhetoric to perfect his verbal expression +than the child who is not so fortunate in +this respect.</p> + +<p>To insure the registration of nervous tension +in the muscles controlling the diaphragm +and not the throat—that is, to form the habit +of breathing deeply when speaking under the +influence of emotion, is our problem. The +present fault in registration will be found to +be different with each one of us, or, at least, +will cause us "to flock together" according +to the place of registration. Each must +locate for himself his own difficulty, or go +to a vocal specialist and have it located. +The tension may be altogether in the muscles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +governing the throat, or it may be in those +about the mouth. There is the resultant, +<i>breathy</i> tone, the <i>hard</i> tone, the <i>nasal</i> tone, +the <i>guttural</i> tone, the tone that issues from +a set jaw or an unruly tongue. All mean +tension of muscles somewhere, and must be +met by relaxation of these muscles and the +freeing of the channel. How to relax the +throat shall be our initial point of attack. A +suggestion made by my first teacher proved +most helpful to me, a suggestion so simple +that I did not for the moment take it seriously. +"Think," she said, "how your throat +feels just before you yawn." "Yes," I replied, +irrelevantly, "and just after you have +eaten a peppermint—that cool, delicious, +open sensation." This impressed her as significant, +but not so effective as her suggestion +to me, which I felt to be true when I began +to think of it seriously, and so, of course, to +yawn furiously. Try it.</p> + +<p>Think of the yawn. Close your eyes and +feel how the deep breath with which the yawn +begins (the need of which, indeed, caused it) +opens the throat, relaxing all the muscles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +Now, instead of yawning, speak. The result +will be a good tone, simply because the condition +for tone was right. The moment the +yawn actually arrives, the condition is lost, +the throat closes; but in that moment before +the break into the yawn, the muscles about +the throat relax and the channel opens, as +the muscles controlling the diaphragm tighten +and the deep breath is taken.</p> + +<p>These, then, are the first exercises in the +second step in vocal training. This step is +called <i>Freeing the Tone</i>.</p> + +<p><i>First.</i>—Yawn, noting the sensation.</p> + +<p><i>Second.</i>—Just before the throat breaks +into the yawn, stop, and, instead of carrying +out the yawn, speak. Repeat this fifty +times a day, or ten times, as often as you +will. Only, keep at it. Take always a single +full-voweled monosyllable; <i>one</i>, or <i>four</i>, or +<i>no</i>, or <i>love</i>, or <i>loop</i>, or <i>dove</i>, etc.</p> + +<p>We cannot, in a printed consideration, touch +more in detail upon individual cases, but +must confine ourselves to these simple exercises, +which will, in general, be swiftly and +effectively remedial.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p> + +<p>But we must not stop with the throat, +which is but part of the channel involved in +the emission of breath as speech. There is +the tense jaw to be reckoned with—the jaw +set by nervous tension, the jaw which refuses +to yield itself to the moulding of the tone into +the beautiful open vowel and the clean-cut +consonant which make our words so interesting +to utter. It is the set jaw which, forcing +the tone to squeeze itself out, causes it to +sound thin and hard. Again, it is surrender +and not effort I want. Just as I should try +to secure the relaxation of your arm or hand +by asking you to surrender it to me, drop it +a dead weight at your side for me to lift as +I choose, so now I ask you to surrender your +lower jaw to yourself. Let it go.</p> + +<p>Drop your head forward, resting your chin +on your chest. Then raise your head, but +not your chin. Let your mouth fall open. +Assume for the moment that mark of the +feeble-minded, the idiotic, the dropped-open +mouth, just long enough to note the sensation. +Place your fingers on either side of +your head where the jaws conjoin, and open<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +your mouth quickly and with intention. +Note the action under your finger-tips. Now +let the mouth fall open, by simply surrendering +the lower jaw, and note this time the lack +of action under your fingers, at the juncture +of the jaws. It is this passive surrender +which we must learn to make, if we find, on +investigation, that we are speaking through +a half-open mouth held fast by a set jaw. +The set jaw resists and distorts the mould, +and the beauty of the form of the word which +flows from the mould is lost; the relaxed jaw +yields to the moulding of the perfectly modeled +word.</p> + +<p>In practising this relaxation there is very +little danger of going too far, since the set +jaw is the indication of a tense habit of +thought, of a high-strung temperament, and +this habit of thought will never become, +through the practise of an outward mechanical +exercise, the slack habit of thought which +is evidenced by the loose dropping of words +from a too relaxed jaw—a habit which must +be met by quite the opposite method of treatment. +There are many exercises involved in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +vocal training which must be directed very +carefully for a time before the student can +be trusted to practise them alone; so I am +confining myself in this, as in every step we +take together, to the simple, fundamental, +and at the same time perfectly safe ones.</p> + +<p>To review those for relaxation of the lower +jaw:</p> + +<p><i>First.</i>—Drop the head until the chin rests +upon the breast. Raise the head, but not +the lower jaw.</p> + +<p><i>Second.</i>—With eyes devoid of intelligence +and the mouth dropped open, shake the head +until you feel the weight of the lower jaw—until +the lower jaw seems to hang loosely +from the upper jaw and to be shaken by it, +as your hand, when you shake it from the +wrist, seems to be commanded by the arm, +and to have no volition of its own.</p> + +<p><i>Third.</i>—Test your ability to surrender the +jaw by placing your fingers on either side +your head in front of the ears at the conjunction +of the jaws, and first open your +mouth with intention, noting the action; +then think the word No, and surrender the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +jaw to the forming of the word, noting the +action or absence of action again.</p> + +<p>So much for the set jaw. Ten or fifteen +minutes a day—yes, even five minutes a day +of actual practice with the constant thought +of surrender, will reward you. Try it.</p> + +<p>And still the channel is not open. There +remains that most unruly member, the +tongue. Dora Duty Jones refers all faults +of technique in speech to failure in the management +of the tongue. Miss Jones bases +her entire system upon the three words, "On +the tongue," in Hamlet's injunction to the +players: speak the speech ... trippingly <i>on +the tongue</i>. That this organ plays a vital +part in the presentation of speech is not to +be questioned; that it is the chief actor +may be disputed. But whether the tongue +is to play a main or a minor part the training +to which Miss Jones would subject it is most +interesting, and <i>The Technique of Speech</i><a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> +should belong to the library of every student +of expression. The only danger of this train<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span>ing +lies in that of making the tongue a self-conscious +actor. What we require of the +tongue is that it shall act as a free agent in +modeling the perfect word. Many of the +exercises given by Miss Jones can be safely +attempted only after the preparatory freeing +of the organ has been accomplished, but +all of them will eventually repay investigation.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the following drill for freeing +the tongue ought to develop the agility we +desire:</p> + +<p><i>First.</i>—Combine <i>l</i> (which may be called +the tongue's pet consonant) with <i>ä</i> and repeat +the syllable <i>la</i> with constantly increasing +speed to form the following groups: +<i>lä'</i> ... <i>lä lä lä'</i> ... <i>lä lä lä'</i> ... <i>lä'</i> ... <i>lä'</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Second.</i>—Change the accent over the vowel +and repeat the exercise until all the sounds +of <i>a</i> are exhausted in combination with +the <i>l</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Third.</i>—Change the vowel and repeat the +exercise until all the vowels have been used +in combination with <i>l</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Fourth.</i>—Change the consonant to <i>d</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +then to <i>t</i>, then <i>n</i>, and repeat the exercise.</p> + +<p><i>Fifth.</i>—Follow these exercises on groups of +syllables with work on groups of words of one +syllable beginning with <i>l</i>, such as: <i>late</i>, <i>lade</i>, +<i>lane</i>, <i>lame</i>; <i>last</i>, <i>lack</i>, <i>lank</i>, <i>lapse</i>, <i>laugh</i>; +<i>lean</i>, <i>least</i>, <i>leak</i>, <i>leap</i>, <i>lead</i>, etc.</p> + +<p>Remember, we are considering primarily +speech-<i>tone</i> and not speech form, and that +our aim in the exercise of the tongue is to +keep it from interrupting the tone.</p> + +<p>And now a word must be said as to the +part the lips take in speech. It must be +only a word, because here more than at any +other point the work needs the careful supervision +of a trained ear and trained eyes. +Madame Ricardo yields to the lips control +of the tongue, as she gives to the diaphragm +control of the breath. I think she would +make <i>easily on the lips</i> rather than "trippingly +on the tongue" the controlling principle +in tone and speech. I shall give you +but one exercise:</p> + +<p>Combine the speech process <i>m</i> with the +vowel <i>ē</i> and let the tone explode easily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +on the lips in the repeated syllable, <i>mē</i>, +<i>mē</i>, <i>mē</i>.</p> + +<h4>LEARNING TO REINFORCE THE TONE</h4> + +<p>And now we turn from the second step +in the training to the third and last step—the +<i>reinforcing</i> of the supported and freed +tone. It is again a freeing process. This +time we are to free the cavities now closed +against the tone; we are to use the walls +of these cavities as sounding-boards for +tone, as they were designed to be, so reinforcing +the tone and letting it issue a resonant, +bell-like note with the carrying power +resonance alone can give, instead of the thin, +dull, colorless sound which conveys no life to +the word into which it is moulded by the +organs of speech. How shall we free these +cavities? I find myself now impatient of the +medium of communication we are using. I +want to make the tone for you. I want, for +instance, to shut off the nasal cavity and let +you hear the resultant nasal note, thin, high, +unresonant, which hardly reaches the first +member of my audience; then I want you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> +to hear the tone flood into the nasal cavity, +and, reinforced there by the vibration from +the walls of the cavity, grow a resonant, +ringing, bell-like note, which will carry to +the farthest corner of the room without the +least increase in loudness. But we must +be content with the conditions imposed by +print.</p> + +<p>First, you must realize that so-called "talking +through the nose" is not talking <i>through</i> +the nose at all, but rather failure to do so—that +is, instead of letting the tone flood into +the nasal cavity, to be reinforced there by +striking against the walls of the cavity, which +act as sounding-boards for the tone confined +within that cavity, we shut off the cavity, and +refuse the tone its natural reinforcement. +It takes on, as a result, a thin, unresonant +quality which we call nasal, although it is +thin and unpleasing because it lacks <i>true +nasal resonance</i>. The only remedy lies in +ceasing to shut off the cavity. Think the +sound ͞oo. Let the tone on which it is to be +borne grow slowly in thought, filling, filling, +and, as it grows, flooding the whole face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +Let it press against your lips (in thought +only as yet), feel your nostrils expand, your +face grow alive between the eyes and the +upper lip, that area so often inanimate, lifeless, +even in a mobile, animated countenance. +Now let the sound come, but let it follow the +thought, flood the face, let the nostrils expand, +feel the nasal cavity fill with sound; +let it go on up into the head and strike the +forehead and the eye-sockets and the walls +of all the cavities so unused to the impact of +sound, which should never have been shut +out. Now begin, with lips closed, a humming +note, <i>m-m-m</i>. Let it come flooding +into the face, until it presses against the +lips, demanding the open mouth. Now let +it open the mouth into the <i>e</i>. Repeat this +over and over—<i>m-ē</i>, <i>m-ē</i>, <i>m-ē</i>. Don't let the +tone drop back as the mouth opens. Keep +it forward behind the upper lip, which it has +made full, and which, playing against, it +tickles until we <i>must</i> let the tone escape. Just +as much of the day as possible, think the +tone in a flood into the face, and as often as +possible hum and let it escape, noting its in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span>creasing +resonance. It will increase in resonance, +I promise you. It will lose its thin, +high-pitched nasal quality, and grow mellow +and rich and ringing.</p> + +<p>And so, with chest lifted, diaphragm at +work, throat open, tongue free, jaws relaxed, +and all the cavities concerned in vocalization +open to the tone, as you breathe and yawn +and hum, let it issue a full, round, resonant, +singing note to add itself to the music of the +world.</p> + + +<h4>A LAST WORD TO THE PUPIL</h4> + +<p>Mr. William James tells us that we learn +to swim in winter and to skate in summer. +The principle underlying this statement is +of immense comfort in approaching a class +in vocal expression. The hope of satisfying +results is fostered by the knowledge +that a mere statement of the fundamental +facts of right tone production will +do much toward inducing a right condition +for tone. But I know, too, that immediate +results depend upon immediate and +faithful putting into practice of the principles +set forth. A little practice every day will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +work swift wonders with the voice. And +so, in leaving with you Madame Ricardo's +watchwords, I also commend you to Ellen +Terry's "infinite pains." When it means, +as it does in pursuing this ideal, that we must +be <i>on guard</i> every waking instant—<i>for a +time</i>; when it means a watch set (for a +time) upon every organ involved in expression—lips, +teeth, tongue, jaw, mouth, +throat, chest, diaphragm, and all the muscles +governing these organs; when it means a +watch set (for a time) upon one's every +thought and emotion lest it make false demands +upon the sensitive instruments of +their expression—then it becomes a daring +device, indeed, to wear upon one's crest. +Let us not hesitate to carve it there, when +we realize that to follow it means culture, +true culture, the culture which can only +come through control and command of one's +self.</p> + + +<h4>TO THE TEACHER</h4> + +<p>When I consider how much depends in +the training of a voice upon listening to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> +made tone, how little depends upon knowing +how it was made, I realize that it is <i>your ear</i>, +not my book, which must become the real +guide in this <i>Study of Vocal Expression</i>.</p> + +<hr style="width: 0%;" /> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <i>The Forms of Prose Literature</i>, courtesy of Messrs. +Charles Scribner's Sons.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> This sermon is published with the kind permission +of the author and the publisher.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> This selection from Prof. Arlo Bates's <i>Talks on +Writing English</i> is printed by permission of the author +and his publishers, Houghton Mifflin Company.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Reprinted by permission from Pancoast's <i>Introduction +to English Literature</i>. Copyright, 1907, by +Henry Holt and Company.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> This and the following poem appear by special permission +of Houghton Mifflin Company, the publishers +of Mr. Aldrich's poems.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> From <i>Along the Trail</i>, by Richard Hovey. Copyright, +1898, by Small, Maynard & Co., Duffield & Co., +successors.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> By permission of Houghton Mifflin Company.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> These following selections are taken from Harper +& Brothers' edition of <i>Alice in Wonderland</i> and <i>Alice +Through the Looking-Glass</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> The "Good News" is that of the "Pacification de +Gant," concluded in 1576. It was a treaty of union +between Holland, Zealand, and the southern Netherlands, +against Spain, under tyrannical Philip II. The +treaty was greeted rapturously by the frontier cities, +because it was expected to free the Netherlands from +Spanish power. +</p><p> +"There is," writes Mr. Browning, "no sort of historical +foundation about 'Good News from Ghent.' I +wrote it under the bulwark of a vessel off the African +coast, after I had been at sea long enough to appreciate +even the fancy of a gallop on the back of a certain +good horse 'York,' then in my stable at home. It +was written in pencil on the fly-leaf of Bartoli's <i>Simboli</i>, +I remember." +</p><p> +While there is, then, no historical foundation for +the "gallop," the verisimilitude of the situation is perfect. +Aix might easily have resolved to set herself on +fire at a given hour, rather than submit herself and +her citizens piecemeal to the torch of the persecutor. +The "horse without peer" might possibly have galloped +the ninety-odd miles between Ghent and Aix, +but the feat would be a marvelous one. +</p><p> +This poem and "Hervé Riel," with the accompanying +notes, are reprinted from <i>Select Poems of Robert Browning</i>, +edited by William Rolfe, A.M., and Héloise E. +Hersey, and published by Harper & Brothers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> "This spirited poem was sent to the <i>Cornhill</i>, because +Browning was asked for a subscription to the fund for +sending food to Paris after the siege by the Germans +in 1870-71. Though he condemned Louis Napoleon's +war, he wished to help the French in their distress, and +he sent to the fund the 100 pounds that Mr. George +Smith gave him for 'Hervé Riel.' The subject of the +poem and its generous treatment surely manifolded +the good-will of the gift. An English poet restored to +France its 'Forgotten Worthy.' An Englishman sang +the praises of a French sailor's balking the English +fleet. One of the nation whose boast it is that her +heroes need no other motive for their noble deeds than +'England expects every man to do his duty' showed +that in France, too—whose citizens were accused of +seeking glory and vainglory as their dearest gain—was +a man who could act out Nelson's words with no +thought of Nelson's end—a 'peerage or Westminster +Abbey'—but just do his duty because it lay before +him, and put aside with a smile the reward offered +him for doing it; a real man, an honor to the nation +and the navy of which he was part." +</p><p> +"The facts of the story had been forgotten and were +denied at St. Malo, but the reports to the French +Admiralty at the time were looked up and the facts +established. Browning's only alteration is that Hervé +Riel's holiday to see his wife, 'La Belle Aurore,' was +to last, not a day only, but his lifetime." +</p><p> +"Hervé Riel" was written at Le Croisic, the home of +the hero. It is a small fishing village near the mouth +of the Loire.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Read <i>The Training of the Imagination</i>, by James +Rhoades; John Lane Publishing Company.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> From <i>Monna Vanna</i>. By Maurice Maeterlinck. +Published by Harper & Brothers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The extracts on pp. 279-287 are from Mr. Sidney +Lanier's volume of "Poems," published by Charles +Scribner's Sons.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <i>The Technique of Speech</i>, by Dora Duty Jones, published +by Harper & Brothers.</p></div></div> + +<p> </p> + +<div class="tn">Transcriber's note:<br /> +<br /> +Obvious printer's errors have been corrected. +Hyphenation and accentuation have been made consistent. All +other inconsistencies are as in the original. The author's spelling +has been retained. 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