racehorse in the hands of an ordinary stable-man to be trained for
a great race, and the horse would stand little chance to win unless
handled by an experienced trainer who had made it his business for
years to learn all there was to know on the subject of handling
valuable animals. He would give hours of observation and thought, he
would know to a hair’s weight what the animal could stand physically,
any mental idiosyncrasies would be studied and sought to be overcome.
But the average person who has charge of children as a rule not only
does not know even the anatomy of the child, but the formation of its
mind and the proper way of training that mind, and bringing it to a
full and perfect development, is often not even considered a matter
of importance. I do not wish to imply that these people are purposely
negligent of their duties, I merely wish to point out that the large
majority do not realise or understand, from their imperfect training,
either duties or responsibilities, the idea being very often that
children will turn out good or bad men or women quite independently of
their upbringing and the influence brought to bear on them during the
early years of their development.
DANCING
For many years I have been a most ardent admirer of Miss Isadora
Duncan, and there is no doubt that in the revival of classical
barefooted dancing she stands out with great brilliancy. All praise is
due to her as a creator of this school of dancing, and those amongst
us who seek to follow in her footsteps do so, I fear, but feebly. I
think I am right in saying that all the sincere classical dancers wish
to forward this school, not merely from the point of view of making
money on the stage, but from the educational value they feel it ought
to hold in the upbringing of all children of both sexes. And that this
value is very great has been proved as much as such a young movement
can be proved by Miss Duncan, M. Jacque Dalcroze, and others. Though,
of course, the eurhythmics of Jacque Dalcroze is a system of training
entirely different in method from that of any one else.
[Illustration: MISS ISADORA DUNCAN
_From a Photograph by the Dover Street Studios_]
One of the greatest advantages that classical dancing holds over the
toe-dancing school is that it is possible to become proficient in it by
giving a short time daily to its practice, instead of the many hours
and years of arduous work that a toe-dancer has to go through before
becoming a finished exponent of the art. One is an accomplishment
that we all ought to be able to enjoy, the other is only possible
for the woman who means to make it a profession, and give the best
years of her life to it. Though to become a good classical dancer it
is not only necessary to take a child and instruct it in the art of
moving gracefully if the rest of its education does not assist in
the teaching. From earliest infancy it must be taught to observe, to
concentrate, to realise the beautiful in line and colour, and
to have the ugly and repulsive kept away from it, encouraged to copy
beautiful poses and eventually express to music in movement what that
music says to it. The educational value of classical dancing is that
its expression has to come from within. A toe-dancer is very often
merely a brilliant machine. Her dance is often composed for her by her
professors, and her well-trained muscles merely respond like a perfect
machine to their commands. It therefore follows that the educational
value in such dances is practically nil, apart from the dancers having
had to learn muscle-control, patience, and endurance, which of course
is of use. A child trained to classical dancing in the right way will,
by the time it reaches full growth, dance, I feel sure, as we were all
meant to dance, every muscle in control and the mind enveloped in the
glory of expressing beauty by perfect rhythmical movements. Having
worked on the stage as a classical dancer for a short time I was a
good deal saddened by the adverse criticisms I heard on all sides,
about the bare-footed school of dancing: general sameness and general
dullness were the two most severe. My own dancing being criticised I
did not mind. I was merely a beginner, and beginners nearly always
have to suffer. I asked many and various people as to the reasons of
these criticisms and always got the same answer: ‘Very pretty, yes, but
when it is seen once, that is sufficient. Interesting, I dare say, to
painters and sculptors who know when a pose is pure and a faithful copy
of the antique, but the general public don’t, and all the poses and
dances look much alike.’
At that time I used to get angry, and salved my wounded feelings by
putting these people down as narrow-minded and inartistic, but at the
bottom of my heart I felt that they had some right on their side. I
went several times to see classical dancing which was supposed to be
good, and tried fairly with an open mind to criticise it. After a good
deal of sincere study and thought on the subject I came to the
conclusion that to a great extent these criticisms were right. What
was lacking I was sure was the absence of any real joyousness and life
in the dancing. The dancers did their best, but with the exception of
Miss Duncan’s work, which carries a splendid joyousness in it, the
dancing was curiously dead and heavy. The poses were good, the arms
and body graceful and trained, but the legs and feet of most of them
were totally untrained, the muscles soft and flabby, thus causing every
movement to be devoid of life. In fact, an exact antithesis to the
toe-dancer, who very often has wonderfully trained legs and a great
rigidity of arms and body. The Russian dancers have to a great extent
got away from this very ugly style.
[Illustration: MAD^{LLE} ADELINE GENÉE
_From a Photograph by the Dover Street Studios_]
Many contend that the ancient Greek dancers, whom the present-day
classical dancers try to copy, did not train their legs for dancing,
but merely used them as supports for the body and arms, to which all
the graceful movements were confined. Personally, I feel sure that
the Greeks if they trained their bodies and arms for the dance did not
neglect the legs and feet, as they were known to insist most strongly
in their physical education on perfect muscular development throughout
the body.
[Illustration: MADAME KARSAVINA
_From a Photograph by the Dover Street Studios_]
Then came to me the problem which I have attempted to solve during
the last three years. Is it possible to combine Greek poses, graceful
body movements, and plastic light movements of the legs, so that
the whole may be welded and work smoothly together. In fact, to try
and resemble the Russian dancers in their lightness and charm, but
avoiding the tortuous and unnatural movements and positions favoured
by the toe-dancer. I felt sure that a great deal of the lightness of
the toe-dancer’s work could be brought with great advantage into the
classical dancer’s, and still lose none of the simplicity and purity
which is the barefooted dancer’s ideal, rather in fact add to it, as
it is quite unnatural to have heavy, uncontrolled muscles. This can be
proved by watching the dancing of savages, whose movements may be
grotesque, but every muscle is under control, and each movement sure.
The answer to all this by many would be that it is only necessary to
remove the tights, shoes, and ballet-skirt from any of the leading
toe-dancers, replace them by a Greek drapery, and you will have a
perfect classical dancer: for many of the Russians have shown that they
have studied a certain amount of this work as far as poses go in some
of their ballets--‘Narcissus,’ for instance. But there are several
insuperable objections to this, one of the foremost being that an
experienced toe-dancer’s bare foot is nearly always a thing of horror
to look at. Secondly, a toe-dancer gets all her positions with her foot
pointed as stiffly as possible, and her foot when not on the ground is
never otherwise than pointed. A bare foot pointed, even a well-shaped
bare foot, is an extremely ugly thing. A toe-dancer’s foot has at
all times to be rigid. She gets her muscular control from the rigid
foot upwards, and it would be an unheard-of fault for a toe-dancer
to allow her foot to become limp at any moment while dancing. Again,
a classical dancer must have her bare feet limp exactly like her
hands: the greatest difficulty I found was to keep the feet limp and
get the muscular control in the legs, also not to let the feet look
dead. All dancers have to conquer this difficulty in their hands when
learning to dance. A limp hand and a dead-looking hand are two very
different things. I have worked hard for three years at what I think
I am justified in calling a new form of bare-foot dancing. I make no
pretence of having perfected it, but I hope it is a step in the right
direction towards dancing that shall be perfect in pose and expression,
and that will help the human mind and body to retain its birthright of
beauty.
[Illustration: BAREFOOTED DANCING AFTER THE GREEK STYLE
_From a Photograph by the White Studios_]
[Illustration: BAREFOOTED DANCING AFTER THE GREEK STYLE
_From a Photograph by the White Studios_]
SWIMMING
If asked which style of physical exercise I should recommend to
bring nearly all the greater muscles of the body into play, and be
of all-round value to the exerciser, I should unhesitatingly say
swimming--and it is with a good deal of pleasure one notices how
greatly on the increase the learning of swimming is amongst well-to-do
people, and that parents are beginning dimly to realise what an
incalculable amount of good children of both sexes gather from this
exercise. Having seriously studied swimming and diving since I was
fourteen years old, I feel that I am at liberty to speak strongly on
the subject; of the good that can be got from indulging in one of the
most pleasurable physical exercises there are, and also the harm that
can result from bad teaching, &c.
Having been a member of the Bath Club, London, since it first opened,
I have had every opportunity of studying swimming and the people who
swim--and there is no doubt that the Club has done an enormous lot
to encourage learning swimming amongst the rich and their children,
particularly the latter, averaging in age from three years old and
upwards; also, of course, I have swum and watched swimming in many
other countries and baths. An interesting thing is that most of the men
anyway who swim seriously, going in for competitions, exhibitions, &c.,
are gleaned from the working classes, not from the idle rich, who one
would imagine have far more time and opportunity to perfect themselves.
But the art of swimming and diving is curiously little excelled in by
the latter. They of course know how to swim, as that is taught at most
public schools--but few get any further, the real swimming world
being composed nearly entirely of hard-working men. This, of course,
refers to England. When I first began swimming it was thought quite out
of the common to take an interest in this exercise, and women who swam,
amongst one’s friends, could be counted on the fingers of one’s hand.
As to high diving, that was looked at in horror and amazement.
[Illustration: ENGLISH POSITION IN AIR WHILE DIVING]
Then the Swedish divers came to London and gave exhibitions of high
diving; and people began to realise that there might be something worth
while in this art beyond the ordinary flopping-along breast-stroke
through the water, which was about as much as the average woman,
anyhow, dared to try. Swimming clubs for both sexes began to crop
up, competitions were started, prizes given--and the standard rose
by degrees to what it is now. Not high enough, by any means, but an
enormous improvement on fifteen years ago. I personally think that what
makes the Swedish divers stand out as a rule head and shoulders above
any other divers is their marvellous realisation of form in their
work, and to define what one means by form is almost impossible. Some
will say a diver with a great deal of finish has good form, personally
I think it quite possible to be an absolutely finished diver and yet
lack a great deal in form. It seems to me that the great dash and
boldness and muscular control the Swedes exhibit in the air has a great
deal to do with it. One of the above qualities is often seen, but all
three together seems almost unique to the Swedish divers.
Perhaps it may be interesting to mention the difference between a plain
English dive and a plain Swedish dive. As regards the positions--the
English dive is taken with the hands pointed straight up above the
head, from the tips of the fingers to the end of the toes the body
ought to be in a straight line. The Swedish plain dive is the swallow
dive, so called from the position of the hands and arms out from the
shoulders at almost right angles. During the flight through the
air the back is hollowed as much as possible. A man doing a high
running swallow dive greatly resembles a bird swooping down, and the
beauty of line that the best divers manage to get into it is remarkable.
[Illustration: SWEDISH SWALLOW DIVE]
Of course the muscular development and control needed in high diving is
very great--therefore making it a most valuable exercise. A really good
high dive and perfectly developed and controlled muscles are bound to
go together.
I think that the beauty in the art of diving is greatly under-valued,
and gracefulness not nearly enough insisted on in the teaching of it;
like all other physical exercises unless fitness and beauty of the body
are the aim of the exerciser, they ought to be left alone, little good
will certainly be gathered from any form of exercise if it is entered
into merely in the spirit of competition, and not with the wish to
improve the body and the mind. Most exercises of a vigorous kind will
help a person mentally: for instance, the mind would have to be a
seething mass of corruption if it was past being helped by the contact
and feel of cold water after a rush through the air from a height;
unclean and impure thoughts that crowd gaily and with little shame
under the electric lights in a crowded restaurant would not venture to
show themselves when the body is tingling and the mind rioting with
joy from a swift rush through the sunlit air into a still pool in a
river, or even into the green depths of a swimming-bath. No; exercise
aided by cold clean water and fresh air do not walk hand in hand with
uncleanliness of spirit, and if only this was more understood and
realised by parents, how much unhappiness and peril might be saved
their children. As to the teaching of children--swimming ought to be
taught to all and taught in the right spirit--not regarded as a means
to clutch a gold medal from some less fortunate brother or sister,
but a glorious means of helping themselves mentally and physically,
and an exercise that ought to be put within the reach of rich and
poor; and, I feel most strongly, taught, as all physical exercises
should be taught, to man and woman, as a weapon to combat through life
temptations and sorrows which come to all on life’s journey. It is
only necessary to watch small children splash about in pool or bath to
understand what great joy can be given them and in a very easy manner.
Taught and helped they make marvellous progress and even the quite
small ones will strive to perfect themselves in stroke or dive--also
love of the water seems to breed good temper and good fellowship,
therefore surely that love is to be encouraged. As to the harm that
can be got from swimming I think it is the same that can be found in
any exercise that is practised in a harmful manner. Overstrain is
particularly liable in children who are allowed and encouraged to race
each other until their hearts are bumping, which also leads to bad
swimming. I am sure no serious racing ought to be allowed to the young
until the strokes are sure and perfect.
Again, children, in baths especially, are allowed to stay in far too
long. No time limit can be given, I know, as one child can stay in
the water a great deal longer than another, but constantly one sees
children blue with cold and exhaustion, and when they are taken out of
the water only too often parents and teachers hurry them off to stand
under a hot shower-bath or, a still worse evil, take them into the hot
room of a Turkish bath to get warmed up, consequently an overtired,
flushed child is the result, instead of a happy, brisk, and refreshed
one. Less time in the water, and, if cold, a few exercises or a romp
to warm up after, will be far more successful and also stop the plaint
which is often dinned into our ears--‘Such a pity my child can’t learn
to swim, but she or he always catches cold afterwards.’
Small children can learn, apart from the ordinary breast and side
strokes, all the so-called fancy work in the water, of which there are
many different varieties--all of them being a great aid to gracefulness
and sureness, and delighting children as well as grown-up people.
Personally I am no believer in high diving for young children, as the
muscles are seldom either strong or controlled enough to make a fair
certainty of the dive being a good one, and if it isn’t I do not think
it is good for a small child to hit the water in the wrong position.
They certainly ought to learn to dive and to dive well, but not from
more than a ten-feet board--until they can really make a certainty of
a good clean dive from that height. I mention this as often one sees
ambitious parents urging on their children to dive from a thirteen or
fourteen feet board, when they cannot properly dive from three feet. Of
course a good teacher will not permit this, but good teachers are few.
Grown-up people also often make the same mistake, and go falling off
high boards long before they can dive from a low one. Also in the minds
of non-swimmers or divers there seems to exist the curious belief that
high diving is a gift. I have often been met with reproachful looks
after a dive, and the words, ‘I really don’t know how you do it, it is
_quite_ wonderful; and you know I have tried and I can’t spring a bit
like you can; isn’t it a shame!’ When answered somewhat prosaically
that it has taken fourteen years of hard practice to acquire that
spring, and that it is necessary to have the muscles developed in the
legs and body before it is possible to dive at all with any skill,
watch the non-swimmer’s mouth and you will see the one word ‘liar’
forming silently thereon!
These are a type who appear in swimming-baths and stand about on the
edge rarely venturing into the water, and, when they do, struggle about
in a half-drowned condition, believing that to show any muscle or
knowledge of swimming is to be thoroughly ungraceful--if not hopelessly
vulgar. They also have another trying habit, and that is of paddling
feebly round in circles always just on the spot where the divers from
the high boards must enter the water. When the frantic instructor
tries to explain the situation, they stare wildly round the edge, but
nothing will ever induce them to look up to where the danger comes
from. More than once I have become weak from laughter, standing on a
high board watching the instructor and paddler--also when eventually
the whole bath starts shouting at them and they are removed, it is a
certainty that in a sort of hypnotised condition they will be back in
the same spot shortly.
There is also another type very prevalent at swimming-baths, as I know
for my sins, and these are women who come and stand about on the edge
of the baths, for what reason I never could discover, unless it is
to talk, but it seems a damp and uncomfortable spot for indulging in
conversation. They always stand with their backs to the water, and seem
to be absolutely unconscious of both bath and swimmers. It does not
the least matter that there may be the most convenient balcony with
comfortable chairs provided for those who wish to watch the swimming,
not at all--nothing short of violence will move them, and if there is
a low diving-board handy, they always stand on it. Polite remarks such
as, ‘I wish to dive, please,’ or ‘Please I want the board,’ uttered in
a beseeching fashion, has no effect whatever. For years I treated these
people with politeness, but eventually my temper broke, with excellent
results, and I have now adopted a way which is instantaneously
effective, and I offer the suggestion with great pleasure to any of my
fellow-swimmers who have suffered in the same manner. Here it is--brush
past them heavily once or twice so that they get thoroughly wet, if
that is not effective run lightly up behind and shout ‘_Board!_’ with
all the strength your lungs are capable of, that will generally cause
them to jump several feet into the air, and while their nerves are
still trembling place them in the hands of an attendant to conduct to
the aforesaid balcony!
It is extraordinary how keen people get about swimming even when
they have taken it up quite late in life--I know several who swim
regularly, and work away at diving with the greatest diligence, and it
is much to their credit, as learning diving after you are full grown
is a most painful exercise, and if you are well on in years and heavy
I should have thought doubly so--and one would have imagined not a
very healthy exercise, but I know one or two women who are well past
middle age who have only the last year or two taken up swimming and
diving, and they seem to benefit greatly by it. I think it a very great
question as to whether giving swimming-baths to the very poor is an
advantage or not--I do not mean for a moment that they ought not to
have swimming-baths and also learn to swim, but done as things are at
present with insufficient instruction, and water that is changed only
once or twice a week, the risk of infection is great. If people who do
not wash regularly use swimming-baths, and a bath with soap is not
made compulsory before entering the public water, then running water
through the bath ought to be the alternative.
Let me once more urge parents to have their children taught to swim,
in the proper fashion, and with the proper ideas as to its value and
place in life, for there is no better sport or exercise than swimming
and diving to instil in a child’s mind purity and self-control, and
drive away that present-day great usurper of the mind, uncleanliness of
thought, the beginnings of which, alas! can sometimes nowadays be seen
in even the quite young.
BIG GAME SHOOTING
Nowadays it is the fashion for the wealthy young man about town to
go to India or Africa to hunt big game. So it may be of interest to
discuss a little this big game shooting from an educational point of
view--which point of view had not arisen, and of which there was no
need, before or during the last generation. But, alas! different times
and different men have turned hunting into a mere pastime of the lowest
kind--into an excuse for killing in an unsportsmanlike fashion, to be
used as a sop for a feeble, decadent vanity.
Such mighty hunters as Mr. Selous and the late Captain Gordon Cumming
made it possible only to honour and respect in every way such men, who
hunted in a clean, hard, fearless manner, spending their lives and
caring little of the way they risked them, so long as the task set
was accomplished. There was no necessity then to question as to the
sportsmanlike manner in which big game was hunted. It is more than a
pity that the same cannot be said at the present day.
In imagination one sees the many mighty hunters of bygone days: the men
who laboured and sweated in Africa during the time when elephant ivory
was a paying game. The years of hardship, of carrying one’s life in
one’s hand--the only thing that kept death away, an antiquated rifle
that took a minute to load--these were men to whose memory all real
sportsmen must doff their hats and bend their heads in reverence.
One or two are still left to us, and written on their faces is the
story of the lives they have led--a story clean and fine to read--eyes
that look out with no shiftless look, bright and clear as steel; firm
lips that have suffered, perhaps, but have never trembled from fear;
lines drawn plentifully by the sun-god, but each line shaped by a
wholesome thought. No sagging lines of self-indulgence in these faces;
even if they had their merry roystering times on their few returns
to civilisation, they wiped out the marks by the months of arduous
and self-denying living which they spent hunting. Some to make money,
others because they had been born hunters and would continue to hunt
until the Most Mighty of all Hunters stretched forth His hand and
claimed them in their turn.