riers, or like an avalanche, it sweeps all before it and envelops the hearer in a sea of sympathy which will subside into tranquility as the action proceeds.

It is conceded by many presentday actors, that a good reciter, one who has not only trained the memory, but has also acquired control over his voice and ease of manner in his action, makes a better actor than he who has neglected, these important particulars. In the olden days, the Athenian theatre was a national institution, not individual,—the glory of a nation; not an everyday affair but a solemn ceremony, taking place at intervals. Nature produced the scenic effects,-the sky, the fields, the waters, the stately fleet, the glorious temples on the Acropolis. Æschylus and Euripides had passed through fiery ordeals, and wrote truth. The actors, trained in athletic sports, in poetry and in oratory, were well fitted to arouse enthusiasm in the vast concourse of people who assembled to witness and to live anew in these productions which thrill us to this day. Therefore, despise not, ye students, preparatory work for the stage. It is through the cultivation of

perseverance and self-denial, hardy application and positive belief in your capabilities, that success will attend you.

ATTITUDE AND POSITION.

To acquire a good carriage is a simple thing if the muscles have been well trained. Involuntarily, relaxation accompanies each pose, and the portrayal of every motion becomes responsive to the thought rather than applied mechanically. One does not or should not use the same attitude, the same gesture, or the same tone in a dramatic selection at all times. If he does, it is mechanism, not assimilation. True, the principles are the same, the basis of mechanical training; but the human being is not

a marionette, constructed to jerk and to fly outward at the will of a system. Thought and temperament should guide and control the mechanism of man, and not the mechanism of science control that which governs the universe. Flexibility is as essential for the torso and the legs as for the voice.

The student can acquire much valuable information concerning expression by reading thoroughly "The Delsarte System of Oratory,"* which is neither complex nor confusing. It has proved most valuable to the writer, and it is the fountainhead from which so much of the complex and confusing literature of the day has been drawn. Assuming, then, that the student has read and appreciates the ideas relative to attitude and to position, it only remains to refer to the various attitudes assumed by the head and the body-erect, forward, backward, oblique, latterly-as indicating various emotions.

The shoulders expanded, contracted, thrown forward, backward, or held up and down; the chest and the abdomen exercised in the same manner, will result in supreme control of these expressive agents.

To classify position refers to the degree of excitement which governs the speaker's thought. The excited state requires no advancement forward or backward. Excited states of mind are expressed in proportion to the thought. An appropriate position for grace and for dignity may be stated as at a relative angle of about forty-five degrees, which thus supports the weight of the body, thoroughly and easily. The direction is determined by the thought, as previously stated, and to acquire a facility of poise practice frequently throwing the right foot to front oblique, to lateral, to rear oblique, and the left foot the reverse.

* Published by Edgar S. Werner; price, $2.50.

Insecurity and awkwardness are fatal to self-possession and stagepresence, therefore acquire agility in the above practice. The weight of the body determines the gesture and the position, which also indicates direction of the mind. Congenial, emphatic, and aversive states of mind may be to right or to left, but the two former advance the body, while the latter cause it to recede. Concentration or thought requires both heels straight, feet firm, body and head To kneel well is an art. Advance the right foot and sink upon the left, or vice versa. In using both knees, place them not too widely apart, and thus support the weight of the body gracefully and easily. Haste is to be deplored under the general law, but as in all things exceptions are observed. Then it is the practice of the science that reveals the art of the student.

erect.

It seems absurd to reiterate that harmony or unity of gesture and position is essential, but to acquire this, it is suggested that a few phrasings be applied and the various positions accompanied by gesture be taken, expressive of the phrasings.

In gesture, the practice of exercises for the fingers-writhing, twisting, grasping, and flinging—will be beneficial in demonstrating the value of the hand, so expressive may it become. A circular movement of the wrist is excellent for musicians, as well as for the society woman, who does not toy as gracefully with her fan as does her Spanish sister. Α knowledge of human nature is also acquired which proves of benefit in business and in forming friendships, hence, a course in elocution is never a waste of time for man, woman, or child.

In the brief remarks upon action, much has been left to the reader's judgment and to his appreciation of the necessity of enlarging a field of work that has lain fallow and covered with straw and with thistles. Personal instruction is essential, but everyone can apply the few principles set forth, daily, and become more in touch with this thought which is now agitating the community.

Pantomime is expression in truth, not dependent upon a familiar melody nor upon the words of a well-known author to elucidate a series of picturesque posings. In pantomime one acquires flexibility through the severe bar practice of the ballet-girl, and is then encouraged to express and to portray a situation; to create an idea different from his fellow-student; to observe the subtle shadings and phrasings of the writer; to enjoy, attract, and win the attention and the applause of an audience that is not familiar with the subject. To hold a candle in a drafty garret; to expect a recreant lover; to hear his footsteps; to find yourself mistaken; to express your emotion in your face, body, and position; to rush to the door radiant with happiness; to return disconsolately to your misery; to weep; to find consolation in the morsel of paper hidden in your bosom; to press your lips upon it; to fall asleep in sheer weariness through the conflict of emotions; this is expression. No audience requires music or a libretto to determine such a situation.

Such knowledge as one possesses of the world, of literature, of history and of art stands him in good stead in a dramatic career. Experience is a great teacher and leveler, and to its influence may be traced much of the actor's success.

THE

HE home in which James E. Murdoch, the greatest elocutionist this country has yet produced, passed the latter part of his life is a two-story frame dwelling, cosy and unpretentious, and but fifteen minutes' ride in the electric cars from the heart of Cincinnati. When Mr. Murdoch bought the place, it was considered "out in the country," and from its location on Reading Road, now a leading suburban avenue, he named it " Roadside,"

and with this were the letters of his later days headed. The house is high above the street, and is reached by a flight of stone steps that pass up under a tree, now large and beautiful, which Mr. Murdoch himself planted. In summer, there were numerous beds of sweet and gailycolored flowers along the fence and around the porch, which was shaded by fragrant vines. Our great teacher loved flowers, and even in winter had his little conservatory of blooming plants, in the bay window of the living room where he passed the greater part of his time.

Entering the house, you find it a comfortable, old-fashioned place, with the hall in the centre and with comparatively low ceilings. On either side of this hall are the sittingroom before mentioned and the parlor, or rather library,-the most interesting room in the house, as it was here that he did his teaching and kept his treasures. In the rear he had erected a small stage with exits and entrances and a drop-curtain, where he prepared pupils, held rehearsals, etc. In one corner might be seen an iron helmet and breastplate, once the property of Edwin Forrest, who presented it to Mr. Murdoch. He has left

this to his grandson, James Murdoch Hollingshead, who has made his grandfather's noble profession his

own.

Carefully framed and hanging on the wall, is the original manuscript of "Sheridan's Ride," of which Mr. Murdoch was ever ready to tell the history: history How Reade, on the very evening of the day that the news of the battle of Cedar Creek reached Cincinnati, shut himself up in his room, in the house of Cyrus Garrett, on Eighth Street (the house is still standing), with only a pot of strong tea as a stimulus, and in six hours wrote the most spirited poem of the war. The next night, when the ink on the manuscript was scarcely dry, James E. Murdoch recited it to a very large and enthusiastic audience in the old Pike's Opera-House, since destroyed by fire. His wonderful genius, magnificent voice, well-known patriotism, and the intense fervor with which he imbued his reading, combined with the excitement of the times, rendered his auditors nearly wild, and pandemonium reigned for some time after the poem was finished. ished. It was, indeed, one of those startling scenes that always remain vivid and distinct in the spectator's memory.

Another of the many interesting souvenirs that were in this room was a gift from his fellow-citizens. In December, 1890, there was a series of entertainments given in Cincinnati for some large charity, and one of these evenings was devoted to American poets. Among others Mr. Murdoch offered his services, and by a preconcerted plan ended the fine program by reading "Sheridan's Ride" from the original manuscript.

In the midst of the applause that followed, a delegation of Cincinnati's most prominent men stepped upon the stage, and presented the "grand old man," then nearing his eightieth birthday, with a silver salver, upon which were etched a sketch of Sheridan riding to the battle, and the lines:

"Hurrah! hurrah for Sheridan !
Hurrah for horse and man!"

This was highly prized by Mr. Murdoch, and during the remainder of his life he always kept the manuscript and the salver together.

The last time that Mr. Murdoch appeared in costume in Cincinnati was in April, 1887. In the early part of that month he appeared at Wyoming, a suburb of Cincinnati, in "The Stranger," and as Charles Surface in "The School for Scandal," in both of which plays he was supported by some of the best amateur talent that the city could afford, among them his grandson, James M. Hollingshead, his granddaughter, Lily Hollingshead, E. P. Elliott, now a public recitationist, and Laura I. Aldrich, for many years a prominent member of the Shakespeare Club, then the leading dramatic organiza. tion in the place. Through the efforts of Mr. A. W. Whelpley, a warm friend and admirer, a testimonial benefit was given to Mr. Murdoch on Apr. 23, a date held in reverence by all lovers of the immortal bard, at which scenes were given from "Hamlet" and from "The School for Scandal." In the latter he first appeared on the stage in the Auction Scene, clad in the same costume he had worn in earlier days. His make-up as the young spendthrift was so fine and his movements so youthful that the audience did not recognize him until they heard his voice, when he received an enthusiastic greeting. When Mr. Murdoch became feeble that he was confined to the house, he allowed his beard to grow,

SO

so that during his last illness he had the appearance of a patriarch with his long, soft white hair and snowy beard. It was at this time that he frequently said: "My dear friend, I am now playing my last engagement and the curtain will soon be rung down." So, when the summons did come in May, 1893, he was quite ready to leave the stage of life, where he had nobly played his part. His funeral was one of solemn simplicity. At the head of the bier, in marked contrast to the venerable form lying shrouded in white and surrounded by his favorite flowers, was a life-sized portrait of the actor in the prime of youth. Borne by the loving hands. of his grandsons, in a casket draped with an American flag, the cherished clay was carried from the home to its last resting-place.

The following anecdotes will reveal some of Mr. Murdoch's strong characteristics :

During the Dramatic Festival held in Cincinnati some years ago, "Julius Cæsar" was given, with McCullough as Brutus, Barrett as Cassius, and Murdoch as Antony, probably the finest cast ever seen in this country. During the funeral oration, as Antony started to descend from the rostrum, he felt the carpet which covered the steps beginning to slip. Realizing the danger of a fall to a man of his years, he ran down the steps very rapidly and the uninitiated still wonder at the youthful agility he displayed. That "one woe doth tread upon another's heels, so fast they follow," was surely true on this evening, for by a misunderstanding of the assistants, the bier containing Cæsar's body was brought in with the wrong end foremost, and when Antony threw back the covering with the thrilling words,

"Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors,"

the well-swathed feet of the dummy was all that was visible. Was the

oration interrupted? Not at all. So quickly that many in that vast audience did not even notice the accident, Mr. Murdoch was at the other end of the bier, and with hardly a murmur from his rapt listeners the scene proceeded as if nothing had happened.

Mr. Murdoch was intensely conservative and almost bitterly opposed to what he called "new-fangled ideas in elocution." One day, while calling at his home, I told him of my intention of taking a summer course at a well-known Eastern school of oratory, in order to learn something about its system of physical culture. His answer was: "Well, little girl, if you do go there, take my advice and don't

let them make a jumping-jack of you."

The last letter that I received from Mr. Murdoch was rather a tardy acknowledgment of a few flowers sent to cheer his sick-room. The witty postscript was as follows: "Better late than too late is an old saying, and my only excuse for 'shortcomings'-I found the enclosed 'scrap of paper' on my table of mems., so I send them to you as speaking my feelings at the time of writing." Besides the memorandum the scrap of paper he refers to bears this witticism, "Note-(no note-paper handy)" and is signed "The 'late' James E. Murdoch. There was no pun meant."

EING about to take my leave of

BE

you for the present, I am happy to bear testimony to the good attention you have given, and the proficiency you have made in the science and art of elocution. But whatever may be the point to which you have already pushed your instruction, think not, for a moment, that nothing remains to be done. It is related of Dr. Rush, that several young physicians were once conversing in his presence, and one of them said: "When I finish my studies-" "When you finish your studies," said the doctor, abruptly; "why, you must be a happy man to have finished so young; I do not expect to finish mine while I live." You have just entered upon the career of improvement. You have much to learn and to do, ere you can become good elocutionists.

"The wide, th' unbounded prospect lies before you."

The Greeks were right in saying that "the gods sell everything to labor." Let your motto, then, be "Persevere." Strong in your determinations from a consciousness of the adaptation of the means of which you now have a knowledge to the purpose of improvement in elocution, and animated in your efforts by the approbation of men of taste and of intelligence, wherever they may be found, go forward and

"Nor bate a jot

Of heart or hope; but still bear up, and steer Right onward."

Indulge in no regrets that your portion of human existence was not allotted to you in ancient Greece or Rome. We live in a country, the government of which recognizes in every citizen the right to form sub