which elevates and ennobles the feeling. One hindrance to truthful feeling is vague, abstract, or unimaginative thinking. Truthfulness of feeling depends upon simplicity and repose; emotion cannot be forced, nor can its expression be labored. There must be no exaggeration or effort. The attention and interest to successive ideas must be genuine, so that every transition will be truthful. The various steps which have been laid down for the development of the imagination and of assimilation have aimed at securing definiteness and truthfulness of feeling. If the steps are carefully practised, little need be added regarding truthfulness of emotion. ALL the arts are one. They are but human endeavors to represent or interpret nature; hence the fundamental principles governing them are the same. It is not so correct to speak of several arts, as of several forms of art. This identity of "life and law" in art enables the specific artistic value of any one art product to be tested. Vocal expression is an artistic act in the broad sense of the word. It calls into activity the whole man and requires especially imagination and feeling. It is a human action which must be founded upon nature, but must be as ideal and noble as possible. It depends upon doing, and not merely upon knowing. For these reasons it belongs to the realm of artistic endeavor, and so its correctness and effectiveness must be judged by artistic laws. In fact, the laws of art apply with more force to vocal expression than to other arts because these laws are derived from the direct study of the universal qualities of nature, and vocal expression is more intimately connected with nature than other arts. Some forms of art have more mechanical means or are more limited by materials, and hence show less direct application of the laws of nature. Among the principles of art one has been named originality or spontaneity; but by this is not meant oddity, either in action, structure, or form. It means that the process is from within outward; that all the external accidents are the result of internal impulses, so that every expression has a character of its own. "The construction," says Professor Hudson, of literary structure, must proceed from the heart outward, not the other way, and proceed in virtue of the inward life, not by any surface aggregation of parts, or by any outward principle or rule. In organic nature, every plant, every animal, however vast is the number of its species, is so kept from novelty and singularity, has an individual life of its own, which life is and must be original. It is the development from the germ, and the process of development is vital and works by selection and assimilation of matter in accordance with its inward nature. And so in art. The work to be original must grow from what the workman has inside of him and what he sees in Nature and natural facts around him, and not by imitation of what others have done for him. So growing, the work will, to be sure, take specific form and character. Nevertheless, it will have the elements of originality, too, in the right sense of the term, because it will have originated from the author's mind, just as the offspring originates from the parent; and the result will be not apparent superficial virtue, which is indeed a vice, but a solid, genuine, substantial virtue. That is, the thing will be just what it means, and will mean just what it says. Moreover, the greatness of the work, if it have any, will be more or less hidden in the order and temperance and harmony of the parts; so that the work will keep growing larger and richer to you, as you become familiar with it, whereas in the case of the thing made in an unoriginal way at a distance it will seem larger than it is, and will keep shrinking and warping as you draw nearer to it, and perhaps when you get fairly into it, will prove to be no substance at all, but only a mass of shrinking vapor, and if undertake to grasp it, your hands will go through it as through a shadow." you Whatever words may be used to name this quality of art, it must be universally recognized as one of the first elements. Coleridge, in speaking of the form of Shakespeare's dramas and of the mistakes of the superficial critics of the past who objected to the form of Shakespeare's drama, has said: "The form is mechanic, when on any given material we impress a predetermined form, not necessarily arising out of the properties of the material; as when to a mass of wet clay we give whatever shape we wish it to retain when hardened. The organic form, on the other hand, is innate; it shapes as it develops itself from within, and the fulness of its development is one and the same with the perfection of its outward form. Nature, the prime genial artist, inexhaustible in diverse powers, is equally inexhaustible in forms: each exterior is the physiognomy of the being within, its true nature reflected and thrown out from the concave mirror." Schlegel has also said in reference to the same subject: "Form is mechanical when it is impressed upon any piece of matter by an outward operation, as an accidental addition without regard to the nature of the thing; as, for example, when we give any form at pleasure to a soft mass, to be retained after induration. Organic form, on the contrary, is innate; it unfolds itself from within, and attains its determinate character along with the full development of the germ. Such forms are found in nature universally, wherever living powers are in action. And in Art, as well as in Nature, the supreme artist, all genuine forms are organic, that is, are determined by the quality of the work. In short, the form is no other than a significant exterior, the physiognomy of a thing, when not defaced by disturbing accidents, the speaking physiognomy, - which bears true witness of its hidden essence." In every form of art there must be a suggestion of inward life. In nature all genuine forces are organic; that is, determined by an inner process. The external is not determined by the mechanical shaping or elimination, but seems to be an outgrowth. This is true of the expression of life and force in the universe. No two objects in nature are entirely alike, no two leaves, no two flowers. Everything that grows has peculiar characteristics of its own. There is no form of art or expression where this principle is in more need of application than in vocal expression. Imitation, as has been shown, is here most tempting, but most out of place. Delivery in vocal expression in its very nature is a direct revelation of the process and' life of the personality of each individual man. The style of men in writing may differ, but their style in delivery differs much more. Great artists paint differently, but no two people speak alike in conversation. It is that form of art where the mechanical is least applicable, and where the natural and spontaneous, the original and free, are the most important; but unfortunately where mechanical uniformity is often sought for and all originality eliminated. Delivery is in its nature personal and free; and wherever there is a similarity between two persons in delivery, imitation or a mechanical method is to be suspected, and at any rate weakness is always the result. It can be seen at once, therefore, that this principle of art is the most adequate means of testing assimilation. Whenever there is a mere representation of words, or a mere presentation of elements which have been aggregated in some way, monotony is the result. But the very moment there is direct assimilation of the truth, whenever the thought is really in the possession of the mind, the process by which the mind produces and feels it, has its immediate effect upon delivery. Assimilation is thus the most direct road to genuineness, truthfulness, and naturalness. It must be the first and the last endeavor of the student. LIII. UNITY. IN Nature all force and all life are related to a centre; and as art is founded upon the processes of Nature, organic unity must be its predominant law. Every good work of art must centre in itself, and must not appear to be a fragment or part of something else; it must have the appearance of a living organism. It is only by the sympathetic relationship of parts, that art or expression of any form is possible. Each detail must not only have a force and meaning of its own, it must also contribute to the meaning of the whole. All parts must unite to produce one impression. If some part of a building seems to have no organic connection with the whole, if the removal of this part would seem to improve the effect, then the building is inartistic. Details which are unnecessary to the general impression are elements of weakness. Every part of a true work of art seems to be incapable of change. Every word in a beautiful poem seems to be the inevitable result of a hidden impulse of life. Any part of a picture that gives the impression of a spot is bad. Even something which, in itself, is beautiful, when it calls too much attention to itself, aside from the real centre of the whole, violates the fundamental law of artistic expression. THE SONNET. SCORN not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faeryland To struggle through dark ways; and, when a damp The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Wordsworth. "Here," says Prof. Henry N. Hudson, of this sonnet, "we have a place for everything and everything in its place. There is nothing involved, nothing ajar. The parts are not only each true and good and beautiful in themselves, but each is helpful to the others, and all to the author's purpose. Every allusion, every image, every word, tells of the furtherance of his aim. There need nothing be added: there must nothing be taken away. The argument at every step is clear and strong. The poem begins, proceeds, and ends just as it ought. The understanding, the imagination, the ear, are satisfied with the result." This principle or law of unity applies with special force to all forms of vocal expression. It contains the greatest variety of actions, mental, emotional, and physical; and the mind may pass from extreme explosion to prostration, yet all must be expressed, and expressed in unity. Delivery is the union of three diverse languages, words, tones, and actions. Each of these is |