Now, if a reader imagines the scene, conceives the Cavalier's character, and assimilates his feeling, the expression is true, natural representation; but if he tries to embody mechanically in his voice these effects as effects, then he has imitation, not assimilation.

This poem is peculiarly and necessarily representative; but mechanical imitation degrades it, because it carries the mind away from the central passion. Besides, only a few words are representative. The second time he refers to his own horse he has no representative words. This shows that representation is only occasional and accidental; that it is even then due to assimilation, not to imitation.

Thus, representation is not identical with imitation. Imitation copies effects, and acts from without inward. Representation, on the contrary, is the objective embodiment of the subjective assimilation of a living process. It proceeds from within outward. It is a revelation, simple and natural, of genuine thought and feeling. It springs from a desire for objective form, to make the external body present the life within. It is due to the fact that all expression is a revelation to sense of what is mystic and subjective. Each objective form results from a process of identification, not from external imitation of accidents.

There are thus really three modes of expression. The lowest mode is imitation, or an external mechanical manipulation by man of his voice and body, so as to convey an impression. The second is a representation due to dramatic realization of actions, and to vivid, imaginative conceptions. It is spontaneous and natural, and due wholly to sympathetic identification or assimilation. The third method is a manifestation of the feeling of the man. It is due to sympathy, and appeals to sympathy. It conveys an impression, not by representing the thought, or object, or action, but by revealing the feeling it awakens.

So common is the confusion of imitation with representation, that it may be well to illustrate further the differences:

O How our organ can speak with its many and wonderful voices !
Play on the soft lute of love, blow the loud trumpet of war,
Sing with the high sesquialtro, or, drawing its full diapason,
Shake all the air with the grand storm of its pedals and stops.

Take these four lines from Storey's poem on Language, given in all the books as the best illustration of what is called "imitative modulation." According to the method by imitation, the first line is simple narrative, and is given without any definite character; then there follows imitation of "the lute," of "the trumpet," of the high stop of the organ, and last of the full diapason. Contrast with this the method of assimilation. The first line gets its character from the general thought, from the feeling of admiration for power of expression. The comparison with the organ is not made literally. The mind holds the imaginative and central idea as the source of the feeling, and all the rest is but illustration. In the first line, therefore, the feeling of admiration gives the words definite character; the feeling is expressed which really causes all the following figures. Then when the lute is used as a means of expressing the power of words or of the voice to manifest tenderness, there is not the imitation of the lute, but the expression of the tenderness itself of which the lute is a mere example. The symbol, in other words, is not followed mechanically, but the heart feels the central idea which caused the figure. Vocal expression is a direct language. It is a subjective means of manifesting feeling. To imitate the lute would make vocal expression mechanical, artificial, and superficial.

The same is true of the trumpet of war. Realization and admiration of the power of voice or of words to express force, are felt, and the war trumpet is used as a suggestive illustration of this fact. An intelligent reader feels the point of view of the writer, and does not merely reproduce his figures by mechanical imitation, but goes through the imaginative process that chose the figures and expresses the feeling that rises in response to ideas.

Assimilation thus acts from within outward; and while it sometimes results in an objective representation, such representation is a direct revelation of feeling, and is not a mechanical process. Thus representation implies subjective assimilation and life as its It is objective form resulting from within outward, not from an external imitation of accidents.

cause.

Is the dramatic rendering of a character by the process of imitation or the process of representation? Low farce, or mere

caricature, may proceed by imitation, but any noble form of dramatic expression must proceed by sympathetic representation.

Booth and Salvini never changed their voices so that they were not recognized. Their art was suggestive. It is only a mechanical elocutionist or manipulator of his voice who tries to change it so that it will not be recognized. In the highest tragedy, there is representation but little imitation.

In the impersonation of Barbara Frietchie in Whittier's poem, imitation or the mechanical method of dramatic representation says "she is ninety years old; such a person would have a very broken voice and trembling limbs." Hence the reader gives the words she is supposed to speak, with a mechanical imitation of a quivering voice and with shaking hands. But this is foreign to the spirit of the poem. We should be far more concerned with the emotion of patriotism and courage that dominated her than with her age. The suggestion of great age is secondary and accidental, but her patriotism, her courage are primary and fundamental to the poem; they are its theme.

True dramatic art is the revelation of the heart and motive, not an imitation of mere accidents; it is the subjective assimilation of another's character; it feels another's point of view. Imitation is its greatest counterfeit and enemy.

BARBARA FRIETCHIE.

- over

UP from the meadows rich with corn, clear in the cool September morn, the clustered spires of Frederick stand green-walled by the hills of Maryland. Round about them orchards sweep, apple and peach tree fruited deep, fair as the garden of the Lord to the eyes of the famished rebel horde, on that pleasant morn of the early fall when Lee marched over the mountain-wall, the mountain winding down, horse and foot, into Frederick town. Forty flags with their silver stars, forty flags with their crimson bars, flapped in the morning wind: the sun of noon looked down, and saw not one. Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, bowed with her fourscore years and ten; bravest of all in Frederick town, she took up the flag the men hauled down; in her attic window the staff she set, to show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. Under his slouched hat left and right he glanced: the old flag met his sight. "Halt!"- the dust-brown ranks stood fast. "Fire!". -out blazed the rifle-blast. It shivered the window, pane and sash; it rent the banner with

seam and gash. Quick, as it fell, from its broken staff dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf. She leaned far out on the window-sill and shook it forth with a royal will. "Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, but spare your country's flag," she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, over the face of the leader came; the nobler nature within him stirred to life at that woman's deed and word. "Who touches a hair of yon gray head dies like a

dog! March on!" he said.

Barbara Honor to

All day long through Frederick street sounded the tread of marching feet; all day long that free flag tost over the heads of the rebel host. Ever its torn folds rose and fell on the loyal winds that loved it well; and through the hill-gaps sunset light shone over it with a warm good-night. Frietchie's work is o'er, and the Rebel rides on his raids no more. her! and let a tear fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, flag of Freedom and Union, wave! peace and order and beauty draw round thy symbol of light and law; and ever the stars above look down on thy stars below in Frederick town!

HOTSPUR'S DEFENCE.

My liege, I did deny no prisoners,
But, I remember, when the fight was done,
When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil,
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,
Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd,
Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home;
He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and thumb he held

A pouncet-box which ever and anon

He gave his nose, and took 't away again;

-

Who, therewith angry, when it next came there,
Took it in snuff; and still he smil'd and talk'd;
And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,

He called them -untaught knaves, unmannerly,
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

With many holyday and lady terms

He question'd me; among the rest demanded

My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.

I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold,

To be so pester'd with a popinjay,

Out of my grief and my impatience,

Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what ;

He should, or he should not; - for he made me mad

Whittier.

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman,

Of guns, and drums, and wounds (God save the mark !),
And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth

Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;

And that it was great pity, so it was,
That villanous saltpetre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed
So cowardly; and but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald, disjointed chat of his, my lord,

I answer'd indirectly, as I said;

And I beseech you, let not his report

Come current for an accusation,

Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

Henry IV. Part I.

Shakespeare

XXXIII. ELEMENTS OF DRAMATIC INSTINCT.

THE word "dramatic" comes from a Greek word meaning to act. Hence, whatever is dramatic refers in some sense to action. Action implies a motive or a cause, and a conscious result or effect. Dramatic action as usually understood refers to the interpretation of character by the manifestation of human feelings, motives, and aims. It implies that the writer, reader, or speaker is an active participant, not one sitting at a distance reflecting and moralizing over facts or events. The word "dramatic," directly or indirectly, immediately or figuratively, has some reference to the revelation of the life and movement of passion and character through the voice and body.

Action is the highest and most direct revelation of character, and dramatic action is the means adopted by which one human being interprets the character of another, or manifests the character imaginatively in some specific situation. It is on account of the intimacy of dramatic action with character, its great power of interpretation, that the drama, as an art, has been most potent for good or evil in all ages.

The term "dramatic," however, is not merely applied to the expression of character; it applies also to the expression of ideas and