Although at this _seance_ Delsarte appeared disposed to efface himself
in favor of his brilliant representative, he kindly consented to speak a
few words (and what a charming French lesson was his _causerie_!) and to
present a specimen of his pantomimic powers. The latter exhibition was
really surprising. He depicted the various passions and emotions of the
human soul, by means of expression and gesture only, without uttering a
single syllable; moving the spectators to tears, exciting them to
enthusiasm, or thrilling them with terror at his will; in a word,
completely magnetizing them. Not a discord in his diatonic scale. You
were forced to admit that every gesture, every movement of a facial
muscle, had a true purpose, a _raison d'etre_. It was a triumphant
demonstration.
The life of this great master and teacher, hereafter to be known as the
founder of the Science of Dramatic Art, crowded with strange
vicissitudes and romantic episodes, forms a record full of interest.
Francois Delsarte was born at Solesmes, Department of the North, France,
in 1811. His father was a physician, and his mother a woman of rare
abilities, who taught herself to speak and write several languages.
Shortly after the battle of Waterloo a detachment of the allied troops
was passing through Solesmes, in the midst of a dead and sullen silence,
when the commandant's quick ear caught the sound of a childish voice
crying, "Vive l'Em-pe-weur! Vive Na-po-le-on!" Every one smiled at the
juvenile speaker's audacity, except the stern officer whose name has,
unfortunately, escaped the infamous celebrity it deserved.
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