"The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in his heaven--
All's right with the world!"
Song from "Pippa Passes"
Robert Browning
Browning's "Pippa Passes" is a parable or allegory of human life.
Though called a drama by its author, it embodies, like all plays of the
highest type, other than dramatic elements. In exalted poetry the
allegoric, lyric, epic and dramatic seem to be blended. An effort to
separate them often seems academic and mechanical.
Pippa, a poor little silk-winding girl, who has never known father or
mother, opens the poem. It is the early morning and she wakes with
joyous anticipation of her holiday, her only one. She goes forth, and we
hear her singing and we see her influencing, from her humble position in
the background, "Asolo's four happiest ones," who are brought by the
action of the drama into the foreground.
Her character and that of the other persons of the play are
well-defined; but the real theme of the poem is the unconscious
influence that she exerts upon others. The primary element of dramatic
art is the meeting of people and the influence they exert upon each
other. There is no direct influence seemingly exerted upon Pippa herself
save at one point and even that is scarcely a conscious one.
We feel that she is a type of the human soul. Specific scenes, though
intensely dramatic, are entirely separated from one another.
Accordingly if it is a drama, it is a drama of an unusual type. It
regards the events of only one day; still that day is not literal; it is
a symbol of the life of everyone. It is New Year's Day, but every day is
the beginning of a new year. It is a holiday, yet all life, when
normally lived, is dominated by love and sympathetic service, and is
full of happiness.
Pippa sings as everyone should sing with the spirit of thanksgiving and
love. She welcomes the day with joy as everyone should welcome life and
its opportunities. She lies down to sleep at night, as we all do; her
sun drops into a "black cloud" and she knows nothing of what she has
really accomplished or of the revelation that is coming on the morrow.
Moreover, observe that the link of unity in the play is found in the
songs of Pippa. One might easily conceive her beautiful character as
embodying the very soul of lyric poetry. Hence, in reading the poem, we
are impressed from the first with allegoric, lyric and epic, as well as
dramatic elements.
Observe more closely her awakening. Note the beautiful description, the
gradually lengthening lines, indicative of the coming morning. [See page
16.]
She expresses joy as she meditates over her New Year's hymn. Into this
devotional lyric Browning has breathed the spirit of all true life and
service.
"Now wait!--even I already seem to share
In God's love: what does New-year's hymn declare?
What other meaning do these verses bear?
All service ranks the same with God:
If now, as formerly he trod
Paradise, his presence fills
Our earth, each only as God wills
Can work--God's puppets, best and worst,
Are we; there is no last nor first.
Say not "a small event!" Why "small"?
Costs it more pain that this, ye call
A "great event," should come to pass,
Than that? Untwine me from the mass
Of deeds which make up life, one deed
Power shall fall short in, or exceed!
And more of it, and more of it! oh, yes--
I will pass each, and see their happiness,
And envy none--being just as great, no doubt,
Useful to men, and dear to God, as they!
A pretty thing to care about
So mightily, this single holiday!
But let the sun shine! Wherefore repine?
--With thee to lead me, O Day of mine,
Down the grass path grey with dew,
Under the pine-wood, blind with boughs,
Where the swallow never flew
Nor yet cicala dared carouse--
No, dared carouse!"
From "Pippa Passes"
Robert Browning
As Pippa leaves her room in the full spirit of this hymn, full of joy,
hope and love, she passes into the street. We hardly catch a glimpse of
her until the close of the day, when she comes back and lies down to
sleep: but we hear her songs and see the influence which she
unconsciously exerts. This is the real theme of the poem.
Browning's poetic play reveals to us in four scenes the other side of
life, the happier people to whom Pippa referred in her soliloquy. We
look first into the interior of the old house of which Pippa has spoken
with a kind of awe, and see the proud Ottima who owns the mills where
Pippa is but a poor worker. In the dark gloom of one of the rooms Ottima
has become the sharer in a murder, and, under the influence of Pippa's
song, which is heard outside, she and her companion realize their guilt
and are overcome with remorse.
At noon we are introduced to a young artist, Jules, who is just bringing
home his bride, Phene, whom he has married thinking her a princess, but
who is really a poor, ignorant child. She has been employed
unconsciously, to herself, and innocently used by some degraded artists
as a means of rebuking the idealist, Jules. By this cruel trick they
mean to crush him and reduce him to their own sensual level. Even
letters which Jules has received from the supposed princess have been
written by these perversions of human beings--who call themselves
artists.
In her lovely innocence Phene is thrilled by Jules' tenderness. Her
intuition tells her that something is wrong as she falters in rendering
the lines the cruel painters have given her to read to Jules.
We see the blow fall upon the young dreamer as he makes the fearful
discovery. In the agony of his disappointment he is about to renounce
Phene forever as the artists, waiting outside to sneer at him, expect.
The poor, innocent being, in whom his kindness and tenderness have
stirred to life for the first time her womanly nature, is about to be
cast out to a life of degradation and misery, when Pippa passes,
singing. Her song awakens Jules to a higher feeling, to a more human and
heroic determination; and the painters, waiting outside, are
disappointed.
In the evening Pippa passes Luigi, an Italian patriot. He is meditating
over the afflictions of his country and upon a plan to help it, while
his mother is trying to dissuade him from the daring undertaking. The
police and spies are waiting outside. If he goes he will not be
arrested; if he stays they have orders to arrest him at once. At the
moment of his wavering, when he is almost ready to obey his mother,
Pippa's song arouses anew his patriotic being, and he resolutely goes
forth to do a true heroic deed for his country. Thus Pippa saves him
from imprisonment and death.
Night brings the last scene in the dramatic events of the world
influenced by Pippa's songs. A room of the "palace by the Dome," of
which Pippa seems to stand in so much awe, opens before us. Here we look
into the face of the Monsignor, for whom she expressed reverence in the
morning, and we find that the Monsignor and the dead brother whose home
he comes to bless, are in reality Pippa's own uncles. The poor little
girl, with only a nickname, is a child of an older brother and the real
heir to the Palace, though of this she has never had the remotest
dream. We see an insinuating villain tempting the Monsignor to allow
him to do away with Pippa in a most horrible manner, and thus leave the
Monsignor in sole possession of his brother's property.
During an intense moment Pippa passes and her singing outside causes her
uncle to throttle the villain and call for help.
Then we see, at the close of the day, the little girl, unconscious of
her share in the life of others, come back to her room and fall asleep
murmuring her New Year's hymn which, in spite of appearances, she still
trusts. We are left with the hope that she will awaken next day to
realize who she is and come into her own.
Thus journey we all through life often forgetting that there is nothing
small, that "there is no last nor first." We are conscious of noble
aims, but oblivious of the real work we are doing and of our own
identity.
What, do you ask, has such a poetic drama to do with such a commonplace
subject as health or the prolonging of life?
The question implies a misconception. Human development is not a
material thing but is poetic and exalted. It has to do not merely with
physical conditions but primarily with spiritual ideals. Let us observe
more closely how Browning wakes Pippa up. When she comes to
consciousness she utters a cry of joy and thanksgiving;
"Day!
Faster and more fast,
O'er night's brim, day boils at last."
The joyous thanksgiving of this first moment is the key to Pippa's life
and to her influence through the whole day. Such was the right
beginning to her day and such is the right beginning for us all to every
day of our lives. Her faith and her hymn revealed the true ideals of
this strange journey we call life.
There is an old proverb: "Guard beginnings." If a stream is poisoned at
its head it will carry the deadly taint through its whole course.
The most significant moment of life is the moment of awakening.
The importance of morning has been more or less realized in the instinct
of the human heart in every age.
Many of the myths of the early Greeks refer to the miracle of the
morning. Aurora mirrors to us in a mystic way the significance of this
hour to the Greeks. Athene was born by the stroke of the hammer of
Hephæstus on the forehead of Zeus, and thus the stroke of fire upon the
sky became the symbol or myth of all civilization. Even Daphne, pursued
by Apollo, and turned into a tree, is doubtless the darkness fleeing
before dawn until the trees stand out clearly defined in the morning
light.
The dawn of day has always been considered a prophecy of the time when
all ignorance will vanish before the light of truth.
When we remember that men of the early ages had no other light but that
of the sun, we can see how naturally the coming of morning impressed
primitive peoples, and it is not much wonder that they adored and
worshiped the dawn and the rising sun.
We still speak of the dawn of a new civilization. Morning is still the
most universal figure of progress, the type of a new life. More than
all other natural occurrences it is used as a symbol of something
higher.
May we not, accordingly, discover that from a psychological as well as a
physiological point of view, for reasons of health and development,
morning is the most significant and important time of the day!
No human being at the first moment of awakening is gloomy or angry.
Everyone awakes in peace with all the world. It is a time of freedom. A
moment later memory may bring to the mind some scene or picture that
leads to good or bad thought, followed by emotion. This first moment of
consciousness is the critical and golden moment of human life. How often
has it been said to a child: "You must have gotten out of the wrong side
of bed this morning."
Even animals and birds feel the significance of morning. Who has not, at
early dawn, heard a robin or some other bird begin to sing--"at first
alone," as Thomas Hardy says, "as if sure that morning has come, while
all the others keep still a moment as if equally sure that he is
mistaken." Soon, however, voice after voice takes up the song until the
whole woodland is ringing with joyous tones. Who, in such an hour, has
not been deeply moved with the spirit and beauty of all life and the
harmony and deep significance of all of nature's processes?
If we observe the awaking of birds and animals more carefully, however,
we find something besides songs.
All the higher animals go through certain exercises on first waking.
There seems a universal instinct which teaches that certain stretches,
expansions and deep breathings are necessary at this time. In fact,
these actions are so deeply implanted in the instinct of animals that
they seem a kind of sacred acceptance of life, a species of thanksgiving
for all that life brings.
If we accept "Pippa Passes" as a parable of human life and Pippa as a
typical human being, may we not in her awakening find an example of this
universal instinct? May we not find her first thoughts and feelings
worthy of study and her example one to be followed? Do we not, in fact,
find here a beautiful illustration of the proper mode of meeting the
sacredness of dawn?
As a matter of fact, how do we actually greet the morning? Do we awake
as Pippa did, with a joyous song of praise? Do we pour out our hearts in
gratitude that it brings a new day, a new life? Do we give thanks for
the new opportunities given us, the new possibilities of enjoyment, the
new share in the life of the world?
Usually we have no thought about these things. Most of us entirely
forget the significance of the way or "the side we get out of bed."
Attention is rarely paid to the spirit in which we awaken children. It
is often by means of an angry demand or an indulgent whine. They rise
with the impression that it is a sin to awaken them and they begin the
day with the feeling that the world is cruel.
If we could spend the first few moments of every morning as Pippa spent
her first moments, the character of the whole life would be determined.
It is the most important time of every day. Is it not also the time when
we are most apt to be tempted?
Has not man seemingly lost the significance of this sacred hour? Why do
so many, on waking up, begin to worry over the difficulties of the day?
How many look back with regret to the preceding day and forward with a
frown to the one newly born! Why not smile as Pippa smiled and meet our
blessings with thanksgiving?
There are certain physiological reasons why people feel so sluggish on
first awaking:--the position in bed is cramped, the limbs are
contracted, the circulation is impeded and the breathing is greatly
hindered. When lying down, all the functions of the vital organs are
lessened.
Many people are entirely too careless regarding the air of the room. It
needs to be even purer and fresher during one's hours of repose than in
those of waking.
Certain simple movements are taken by practically every animal on
awaking under normal conditions. Among these are yawning, deep
breathing, expansion and stretching. These exercises form a part of the
process of awaking. It is the change from the position of lying down to
that of standing up. But we find that man rarely takes these exercises.
Between the moment of awakening and standing erect man possibly takes
more time, whines more and does less than any other animal.
Of all the provisions of nature to meet this crucial moment in animal
life the stretch seems to be most important. Why men neglect the stretch
is curious. Man seems to lack something of the vigor of the animal
instinct on awakening. He lives a more rational life, and it is
necessary for him at this time to make certain decisions and exert
firmness and resolution.
Science has carefully explained the stretch, but men seem to refuse to
take the lesson. The stretch extends the body so that the veins, where
congestion is most liable to take place and where pressure of blood is
weakest, are so elongated that the blood flows more easily from the
arteries, where the pressure is strongest, through the veins back to the
heart and circulation is equalized and stimulated.
The beneficial effects of the stretch can be felt by anyone who will
take the pains on waking up in the morning to stretch easily, for a few
minutes, then rest a few moments and note the effect. He will feel a
great exhilaration all through the body. He will feel a sense of
harmony. Thanksgiving seems to arise from every cell at the fresh blood
and life.
The yawn is similar to the stretch. The yawn is a stretch of the lungs
as the stretch is a yawn of the muscles. Both of these exercises express
a hunger for oxygen. Whenever anyone is sitting in a cramped position or
even in one position for a long time, the stretch or yawn is
instinctive. The extension of the muscles of the body as illustrated in
the stretch is one of the most necessary steps in normal adjustment. To
speak of only one point: when a man sits his knees are bent, and the
muscles in front of the leg are elongated and the muscles back of the
knee are shortened. A stretch means simply the extension of these
shortened muscles.
All over the body we find a tendency to elongate certain muscles too
much. This is true in the chest; true also of the face, at the corners
of the mouth. The active use of the too elongated muscles will produce
extension in those that are too much shortened. By doing this we bring
about certain normal conditions and relations of parts.
Again we find that the stretch is activity of the extensor muscles. It
is the action of the extensor muscles upon which health especially
depends. At any rate, the extensor muscles are much more important to
bring about the right relation of all parts and the right balance of
sensitive muscles and the equalization of circulation than the activity
of the flexor muscles. Normal emotions, as we shall find later, are
expressed through activity of the extensor muscles. Abnormal emotions,
such as anger, affect the flexor muscles of the body more.
Since nature has provided the stretch seemingly as the antidote for
abnormal position, and especially abnormal position during sleep, in the
programme of exercises it would seem most necessary to centre around
some careful and scientific use of stretches.
Have you ever noticed a dog or cat wake up? Observe their instinctive
movements: the gradual but vigorous stretch in every direction, the deep
breathing, the sympathetic extension and staying of the limbs at the
climax, then the gradual giving up of the activity and the moment of
restful satisfaction.
Stretching in this way is one of the primitive instincts in all animals.
He who will observe the animals will feel that the time for practicing
the exercises is on awakening, and the primary exercise to be taken is
the stretch.
How can we best occupy a part at least of the half hour or more that is
usually wasted in worrying and fretting or in sluggish indifference,
between the time when we first awake and the time we begin to dress?
With all the knowledge of the human organism which has been revealed to
us by modern science, with our truer understanding of the nature of men,
of the effect of the mind upon the body, with our observation of the
instinctive actions of the animals at such an hour, why can we not so
occupy a few of these most precious moments of the day as to add to our
vitality and enjoyment?
At this moment of awakening, when your mind is free, you can so direct
your attention as to receive joy instead of gloom, love instead of hate.
You can exclude the thought of evil or you can yield and allow the
tempter to desecrate your shrine. Whichever choice you make, these first
moments of your day's living will color the whole course of the coming
hours. The feeling first accepted and welcomed will more or less
continue and form a background to all your ideas and determine your
point of view toward human events.
The chief aim of this book is to present a simple programme giving, not
only some exercises for this hour, but certain explanations which will
inspire a sense of the importance of this hour and these movements.
Most people have no conception of the possibilities of human nature, of
the fact that progress is the highest characteristic of a human being.
No matter how old we are, we can always begin to climb upward; the main
thing is our willingness to climb. Do we understand how to use the least
actions and the most neglected movements for the development of
character and the satisfactions of life?
The principles and exercises advocated in this book are not extravagant.
Again and again their benefits have been proven and many thereby have
doubled life's satisfactions and its length.