MUSIC AND DRAWING.

23

girl sit down at the piano and rattle through a movement of one of Beethoven's symphonies as if it were a 'morceau' by Smith, or Jones, or Robinson-with an evident ignorance of the relations of its various parts, of its beauties of force and expression, of its subtle shades of meaning. So, too, with our Girls when they appear as vocalists: all is showy, unreal, imperfect. Either they do not rise above a 'ballad' by Wrighton or Claribel; or they dash into a maze of vocal fireworks, in which the hearer ceases to detect the faulty intonation only because his weary ear refuses to listen. Let us reform this altogether. Let us treat Music with the reverence due to so beautiful and sublime an art, and cultivate it in a spirit of loving fidelity to truth.

Said one of these showy, superficial smatterers one day to Opie, the great painter: 'Pray, sir, may I ask what you mix. your colours with ?' 'With brains, sir,' was the abrupt reply; and there could be no better. But 'brains' are the very last medium used by Miss Angelina Gushington or Miss Lydia Languish. That any thought or judgment should be given to their efforts in 'water-colour' or 'crayons' or 'oils,' to their 'studies from Nature' or 'from the antique,' never occurs to them. Our Girls, or most of them, fail to understand the value and excellence of Drawing or Painting as an agency in their intellectual culture, or as a contribution to the happiness of Home. Miss Gushington has to shed tears over sensational novels, and Miss Lydia to devote her attention to the arrangements' of dress, or to the details of her latest flirtation; so that neither can give to 'accomplishments' the patient labour by which some degree of proficiency can be obtained. Yet the pleasures of Drawing are infinite, and its influence upon the taste is continually beneficial. It enables us, for instance, to recall the landscapes which we have admired. and the faces we have loved, and to treasure up the images and reflections of a thousand things of beauty. I submit, therefore, that it is an art worthy of careful and intelligent cultivation—an art to be taken up with enthusiasm and pursued with loving diligence.

24

'LOOK AGAIN'—ANECDOTE OF ETTY.

Etty, the painter, was appointed teacher of the students of the Royal Academy. He had been preceded by a clever, talkative, scientific expounder of aesthetics, who delighted in telling the young men how everything was done, how to copy this, and how to express that. A student came up to the new master: How shall I do this?' 'Suppose you try.' Another came: 'What does this mean, Mr. Etty?' 'Suppose you look.' 'But I have looked.' 'Look again.' This anecdote embodies a valuable lesson. The young student of music or drawing must try and try again, must look and look again. Do not be satisfied with anything half done; do not be satisfied with a rough blurred sketch, left for the teacher to 'touch up' and put into shape. If you are copying from a picture, do not rest until you have exactly reproduced every detail; if you are sketching from Nature, persevere until you have exactly caught the form and feeling, the light and shade, and the colouring of the landscape. Be thorough!

This direction, or warning, applies to all the work our Girls may undertake. Whether they resemble Shakespeare's Marina, of whom the poet says:

'She sings like one immortal, and she dances

As goddess-like to her admirèd lays :

Deep clerks she dumbs: and with her neeld composes
Nature's own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry;

That even her art sisters the natural roses;

*

Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry.'

Whether she work with pencil, brush, or needle, thoroughness is the primary requisite; for there is a world of wisdom in the old adage, that whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well. Or, as Charles Kingsley puts it:

'Do what thou dost as if the earth were heaven,
And that thy last day were the judgment-day;
When all's done, nothing's done.'

Something still remains for a resolute will and an earnest spirit. If the natural gifts be limited, perseverance and a love

*Worsted.

THE ART OF READING.

25

of thoroughness and a faculty of application comes in to supply the deficiency; and the girl, reproached or ridiculed at first for her slowness, often outstrips in the long-run her more brilliant but less industrious competitors. It is encouraging to see this result of vigorous and intelligent work; and I think most of us instinctively sympathise with the weak in their struggle with the strong, if they do not throw down their weapons and abandon the field. In the race between the tortoise and the hare, it is not the hare, I think, that commands our sympathies.

I cannot dwell here on all the numerous ways in which our Girls may extend their talents, and contribute, more or less directly, to the happiness of Home. I may point, however, to Elocution, or the Art of Reading, as one that is too much neglected. Of course, I mean reading aloud. This is a very graceful and, let me add, a very rare accomplishment. It is one which invests the winter evening with a new charm. How much more nimbly the needles are plied if they work to the cadences of a well-managed voice, which is engaged in interpreting the last new poem or history or novel to a circle of eager listeners! What a depth of significance is given to a fine passage by a skilful reader; what lights and shades she indicates in it; how she conveys the sentiment, the feeling, to the heart and mind of the hearer! But remember, that Reading is an art; it is no spontaneous growth: all that Nature can give is a good voice and a clear perception. arrangement of the voice, the modulations by which every 'tint' of expression is vividly reproduced, the just emphasis, the skilful inflection, the distinct articulation, the accurate pronunciation: these are graces to be acquired only by careful study and constant practice. Foeta nascitur, non lector. The poet may be born a poet; but the reader must be slowly trained. Do not think the art unworthy of your pursuit; a good reader is a blessing, morally and intellectually, to all her social circle-will be welcomed by her friends not less eagerly than by her family. We all know what poignant suffering is inflicted upon us by a bad speaker or reader; how we writhe

The