“The end and aim of all our work should be the harmonious growth of
our whole being,” says Fröebel. “Know thyself,” quoth Epictetus, the
Stoic, and, knowing thyself, grow strong of mind, self-centered and
self-possessed. “Know thyself,” reiterates the modern disciple of
Delsarte, since only by knowledge of self can be developed the real
personality of the individual.
Grace and self-possession are the aim of Delsarte; it therefore fairly
falls within the province of a work on etiquette to look somewhat into
the subject. If one would control others he must first control himself,
possess himself. Delsarte looked upon the nature of man as a trinity,
and believed that the mental, moral and physical should be educated
at the same time. Modern education tends to develop man in special
directions to the neglect of others. Either the overstrained mental
faculties revenge themselves by giving us the nervous, broken-down,
mental type so common; or else we have the crude physical type wherein
ordinary labor has exercised but a few muscles and joints.
The Three Languages.
Again, says Delsarte, “Man has for the expression of his triune nature
three languages, the word, the tone, the gesture. Tones express bodily
conditions, pleasure or pain. Words are symbols to interpret thought.
Gestures relate to other beings and express our emotions. Of these
three, the first receives undue cultivation, since we study all the
words that have been said or written, while singers and actors alone
cultivate tone or gesture.”
Thus it comes that “the soul struggles to speak through an imperfect
instrument; sometimes it ceases to struggle and finally has nothing to
say.”
In labor the man _moves_, special muscles do special work, but when a
man is _moved_, an undulating “wave of feeling passes over him and his
whole body becomes eloquent.” A bow may be so careless and jerky as
to be almost an insult, or it may be so gracious as to seem a caress.
Again, the real self, gracious and beautiful, may strive to express
itself through a set of faculties that are hardened and narrowed by
decades of self-constraint on the part of himself and his ancestors.
“Physical habits have a way of making themselves felt by a reflex
action on the inner nature,” and with this axiom in view we feel that
cultivation of the Delsartean Art of Expression becomes a vital part
of our education to the end that all our emotions and all our tones
may become “the outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual
nature.” This principle may be called the keynote of Delsarteanism,
and Edmond Russell, that modern exponent thereof, claims that as these
beautiful, expressive gymnastics are for the purpose of correcting
individual deviations from grace, no regular set of rules should be
printed for the use of all, but that each special angularity of person
or harshness of tone must be corrected by special exercises.
Harmonious Development of the Body.
Nevertheless, there are many set forms of movements by the practice
of which none can fail to derive benefit both for the inner and the
outer man. Other physical gymnastics seek to give strength to certain
sets of muscles to the neglect of others. The rythmical movements of
the Delsarte system bring into action each muscle of the body without
wearying any, to the harmonious developing of all, since in all, save
exceptional cases, it will be found, upon beginning this treatment,
that more than half the muscles of the body are unused, while the
other, and overworked half, move in stiff and angular fashion.
All students will discover it is first requisite that an “undoing
process” shall precede the “upbuilding process.” Stiffness of joint, or
tension of muscles, whether recognized or not, must first be done away
with before “the body can be molded to the expression of high thought.”
For this purpose the “decomposing,” “relaxing” or “devitalizing”
motions are given. The old gymnast doubled up the fist and, with
great tension, gave a blow which jarred the whole nervous system. The
“freeing” motions of Delsarte give harmonious, restful, wave movements
to all portions of the anatomy.
Graceful motions are never in the nature of a blow struck straight from
the shoulder, but curves and spirals constitute the lines of beauty.
Nature shows us this in the free untrammelled motions of a child, or
again in man, when his whole nature is so stirred to its best and
sweetest depths that he is carried out of his usual tense, conscious
self into unconscious rhythmic expression of his feeling. What nature
does for us in times of great excitement Delsarte will do for us at
all times by means of his exercises, practiced until the conscious
mechanical motion becomes unconscious, automatic, and the body grows
responsive to all high emotions and impulses.
Relaxing the Muscles.
In relaxing movements, the whole arm and hand, shoulder, elbow, wrist,
fingers, are shaken until the joints are completely relaxed and a warm,
tingling sensation passes through the entire arm. It is then dropped
at the side in perfect passivity. The result is twofold—a feeling of
repose and controlling power, and an absence of that nervous tendency
to “fidget,” or handle something, glove buttons, or watch chain,
without which a morning call can scarcely be accomplished by either
hostess or guest. This alone will give us a sense of perfect rest which
we have never before experienced. Similar exercises are given for other
portions of the body—legs and feet—a revolving of the head to limber
the neck; a revolution of the shoulders and the body to gain that
flexibility which is the secret of grace.
Delsartean exercises break up constrained awkward physical habits,
establish in their stead restful, graceful, natural ones. Of these
there are many classes.
The Delsarte relaxing exercises precede and prepare the way for
all others. In their restful removal of nerve-tension they appeal
especially to the overworked, nervous class.
The Delsarte sleep exercises are useful in overcoming insomnia. The
Delsarte laws of expression give us a key to character, study, and the
laws that underlie all art. The Delsarte work develops self-possession.
The Delsarte rythmical exercises enable one not only to appear better
and feel better, but, by a reflex action, to be better.
In this physical work the first object is an entire, absolute letting
go of all unnecessary tension, all tension that has overstrained the
muscles through an excess of effort in our daily life, though many
times this effort is purely unconscious on the part of the individual.
“How many a patient, trusting soul do we see with the muscles of the
forehead strained and elevated until the eyebrows never fall to their
normal height,” or the brows are contracted until the hard lines graven
between the eyes ever bespeak either pain or care.
The founders of the Benedictine nuns caught some echo of this truth
when, by a rule of their order, no sister among them is permitted to
wear a frown upon her brow. And the placid-faced sisterhood evidence
in their sweet expressions the close relation between the exoteric and
esoteric of our natures; the reflex action between the physical and the
spiritual entities of our being.
Art of Breathing.
There are a few general points that may be given here to the
improvement of many little habits that unconsciously enslave us and to
the “letting go” of the “officious personal endeavor” that we make,
as it were, to hold ourselves together—never believing that nature is
more capable of the task. After the decomposing exercises comes the
practice of one of the first Delsartean axioms: “Control at the center,
freedom at the extremities.” Without this control the newly acquired
flexibility will be weak and affected.
To obtain this control the art of breathing must first be acquired. To
do this properly the chest should be inflated and thrown forward by
the action of the diaphragm and held as the most prominent part of
the body; a position too often usurped by the inferior abdomen. The
same motion which throws out the chest should draw in the lower part
of the trunk, hanging it from the curve of the spine. In the proper
attitude for good breathing the hips turn slightly inward and the chin
goes back, but not up. There should be no effort to throw back the
shoulders. Take care of the chest, and the shoulders will take care of
themselves.
Position of the Shoulders.
Mrs. Edmond Russell says she would “like to make a call that would
reach every man and woman in the country. ‘Lift up your shoulders.’
When one says this nine-tenths of them stiffen at the neck, throw
themselves backward and project the body below the waist, the whole
figure out of line. No, you should get the poise of a Greek goddess.”
Lift the chest, with the shoulders down, until it is on a line with
the toes. This throws the extension on the center of the body where it
should be. The heart and lungs now have full play. Close the lips; draw
in the air through the nostrils, using the muscles below the diaphragm
as a bellows, until the pressure against the ribs has a bursting
sensation. Keep this tension firmly and steadily as long as you can;
then slowly and gradually let the breath out through the lips. If you
wish to sing, or recite, or even to talk, see what power is at your
command.
“Try this breathing, inspiration, retention, expiration—these three
movements—at night before you go to bed, when the body is free; in
the morning before you dress. When you walk take in great, glorious
lungsful of air until full, or deep breathing becomes a habit. Believe
me, breathing properly is a certain cure for nervousness, shyness and
embarrassment.”
It gives command and freedom of motion, a sense of power. Keep the lips
closed and breathe only through the nostrils. This is a most important
fact to remember, and should always be impressed upon children. The
cold air should never be taken directly into the lungs as is the case
when it is inhaled through the parted lips. Children, as well as grown
people, should learn to keep the mouth closed during sleep; this would
prevent many lung diseases, the disagreeable habit of snoring, and the
vacant, inane expression produced by an open mouth.
There is no better exercise to acquire a good habit of breathing
than reading aloud. Try how much can be read easily, without strain,
upon a single inflation of the lungs. Never gasp, catch up, or piece
out a breath. “You may add years to your life by the simple act of
breathing.” Every public speaker knows, or should know, the feeling of
repose and self-possession that comes over him as he calmly, silently,
faces his audience long enough to draw three of these deep, full
breaths. Nervousness has vanished; he and his audience have had time
to become acquainted, and, having command over himself, he is able to
command the minds of those before him.
Standing and Walking.
When one has learned to breathe properly, then it is that standing
and walking may be practiced. Lift up the chest, inflate the lungs
naturally, as in paragraph on breathing, then step up to the front
of a door, letting the toes touch the woodwork. At the same time the
forehead should meet the upper portion of the door, when it may be
assumed that a perfect standing posture has been taken. The poise
will seem at first to be a little forward of a straight line, but to
disprove this it will be found that a plumb line dropped from the ear
will fall through shoulder, hip and ankle. The head will be poised as
if to carry a burden steadily on the crown and the weight of the body
will rest on the ball of the foot, not the heel.
This position may seem insecure at first, as well as stiff and
self-conscious. With some this sensation will wear off sooner than with
others, according to their adaptability, and the result will be assured
power for long, graceful, strengthening walks.
In walking, a common fault is to let the knees bend continuously; this
gives a “flabbyness” to the whole personal expression, that always
seems an outward exponent of a “weak-kneed” character. The knees, to
obviate this, should be stiffened when walking. In the other extreme,
most women stiffen the ankle-joint unduly, thus giving a straight up
and down cramped walk, which is accompanied by coming down with all
force upon the heel, thereby producing a jar throughout the entire
nervous system, as well as an awkward locomotion. In this way all
benefit of the strong, natural spring of the instep, which tends to
lessen this jar and give grace and springiness to the step is lost, and
much weariness of the flesh is the result.
Mrs. Russell says: “We have a system of levers to do our walking with,
and they act precisely as do all levers. One leg is a lever to pry the
body over the other leg, and the latter becomes a pendulum and swings
back by force of gravity. When you walk three miles and feel as if you
could walk ten, you are walking that way. When you are tired out, you
are taking irregular steps and walking on your heels.
“In walking the foot should be used as an elastic arch, the ball
striking the ground first, not the heel. Trying to step too far is
productive of awkwardness. Hurrying is another cause. It is bad walking
to lift up your foot and put it down. If the sole of the foot shows
at all, it should be from the rear. What is wanting is elasticity.
Swinging the arms in walking, which is universal, is absolutely
unnecessary, and purely a waste of strength. Let them hang pendulum
fashion.”
Stair-Climbing.
“Trained stair-climbers should be the healthiest as well as the most
beautiful of women, yet,” says Mrs. Russell, “a town of stairs given,
and I will prophesy thin, eye-circled, cross-looking women.” All of
this is to be laid to the fact that most women climb stairs in the
hardest and most awkward manner.
“In going upstairs there should be no waddling from side to side, no
trudging, no leaning forward, and no apparent weariness. The body
should remain erect, the step should be taken with the ball of the
foot, and the movement to the next step be made with a springing
motion. This produces a graceful, poetic elevation instead of a
cumbersome hauling of the body upward, and throws all of the strain
upon the strong muscles of the calf of the leg. This slightly accented
springing from step to step leads the true system of pacing on level
ground; hence, the stairway may be made the walker’s gymnasium.”
Art of “Letting Go.”
“Relax, relax,” says Edmond Russell. “Let go the tense hold of your
arms that is wearing out your vitality. You will get rest by doing
this. Sleepless people will fall asleep. Stop holding yourself in a
knot and relax. Hold up the chest, breathe slowly and deeply through
the nose, and relax the extremities.”
“Try letting go,” says Mrs. Russell; “it is a great rest. You can let
yourself go for a few moments in the theater, in a crowd, in church,
in the street car, anywhere. It is the universal habit to hold on to
one’s self with a grip that would almost lift one’s weight, muscles
tightened, nerves strained to no purpose. The mind is too eager and
fast for the body. The result is exhaustion.”
“How shall it be avoided? Take the will out of the body when it is not
in action. In walking, let the lower limbs do the work; the arms have
nothing to do: let them be carried as attachments, pendulums if you
will, but at rest.” Let the hands fall easily when sitting in carriage,
street car, or drawing-room.
On Corset Wearing.
The wearing of corsets meets the strong disapproval of all Delsarteans,
as “control of the breath underlies gesture, walk and voice,” and a
tightened corset-lace necessarily cramps the breathing power. The
tight, high collar is also objectionable for the same reason.
An English writer justly observes that “all the greater harmonies and
higher courtesies of life must extend over the whole body.” Now, in
great emotions the chest expands, and especially the lower part where
the ribs are freest and intended to expand most, and this part it is
that tight corsets most compress to attain the artificial waist. The
figure, trying to accommodate itself to the new conditions becomes
deteriorated in all directions. The back grows rounded, the ribs fall
in, and the stomach obtrudes itself unduly; all this to the injury of
health and of harmonious beauty of form.
Mr. Russell also asserts that a forced compression of the waist
damages the power of the figure as an instrument for the expression of
emotions, the result of all this being an unfavorable reaction upon the
mind and character of the unfortunate victims. One of his maxims is:
“A beautiful woman is at her lowest plane in a tight-fitting dress; an
ugly woman on her highest in drapery!”
General Remarks.
Educated men and women of to-day study social, domestic and political
economy, forgetting that vital economy that Delsarte teaches is more
essential to our interests and the interests of our descendants.
“Relax, relax, relax!” one is tempted to cry in unison with Edmond
Russell. Give us what there is in you. Make yourself “a being whose
body is the exponent of the soul responsive to every command of the
spirit.”
Cease limping through life on high-heeled shoes. Cease lifting the
shoulders, fidgeting the hands, painfully raising the eyebrows, and
contorting the face into a meaningless smile. Remember that all facial
contortions leave indelible traces in their wake. The laugh, or broad
smile that half closes, or squints the eyes, engraves those fine
ray-like, much-dreaded lines about the eye, known as crow’s feet.
Remember that “laughter ages the face more than tears.” Smile more
often with the eyes. Let them light up and laugh for you. Trust me, in
most cases a vast improvement will result, since scarcely any adult
laughs well, and if there is some trait of affectation, frivolity,
cruelty, or even coarseness in the character, uncontrolled laughter
will be the sure exponent thereof.
Rest more. Do not try to accomplish too many things at once. Do not
let your thoughts be weeks or days ahead of you and the task in hand.
This would be imposing double duty upon the already strained physique.
If the body is at one store, do not let the mind fly off to shop in
half a dozen other stores to snatch “bargains” from the hands of other
over-burdened ones.
Straighten out the frowns on your strained brows. Cease carrying
numberless loose packages, and loads of heavy skirts in your hands, and
struggling with the well-dressed mob to secure coveted bargains. They
are dearly bought at the loss of beauty, youth and repose. One such
day ages the face. If you do not believe it, ye dwellers in cities,
go stand before your mirror next time you reach home, dusty, rasped,
fragmentary, weary from a day of counter-shoving, neither mistress of
yourself nor those about you, and the face that meets your gaze will
tell its own story.
Rightly does Herbert Spencer say, “We have had something too much of
the gospel of work, it is time to preach the gospel of relaxation.”
And this chapter will have reached its aim if it shall be the means of
inducing any to become disciples of Delsarte, restful converts of this
gospel of relaxation, which is one with the Gospel of Beauty.
[Illustration: Decoration]