Charles Auchester, Volume 1 (of 2)Sheppard, Elizabeth Sara
General
Charles Auchester, Volume 1 (of 2)
Sheppard, Elizabeth Sara
Musical fiction
The room was tolerably large and high, and lighted by gas-burners,
which fully illustrated the bareness of wall and floor and ceiling.
Accustomed to carpets in every chamber, nay, in every passage, I was
horrified to hear my own footfall upon the boards as I traversed the
backs of those raised forms, one above the other, full of people. Boys
and men, and women and girls, seemed all mixed up together, and all
watching me; for I was late, and quite dreamy with walking through the
twilight town. Several beckoning hands were raised as I inquired for
the place of the altos, and I took my seat just where a number, nailed
to the form, answered to the number on my ticket.
CHAPTER XI.
I was too satisfied to have found my way safely in, and too glad to
feel deposited somewhere, to gaze round me just then; but a door
opened with a creaking hinge on the ground floor below, and as perfect
in my eyes as ever, stepped forth Lenhart Davy and bowed to his whole
class. He carried a little time-stick in his hands, but nothing else;
and as he placed himself in front, immediately beneath the lowest
form, I was conscious, though I believe no one else present could be,
of the powerful control he had placed as a barrier between himself and
those before him,--between his active and his passive being.
He began to address us in his fine, easy tones, in language pure
enough for the proudest intellect, sufficiently simple for the least
cultured ear; and he spoke chiefly of what he had said the time
before, recapitulating, and pausing to receive questions or to elicit
answers. But all he said, whatever it was to others, was to me a
highly spiritual analysis of what most teachers endeavor to lower and
to explain away,--the mystery and integrity of the musical art.
He touched very lightly upon theory, but expounded sounds by signs in
a manner of his own, which it is not necessary to communicate, as its
results were those of no system whatever, but was applied by wisdom,
and enforced by gradual acquaintance.
We did not begin to sing for at least half an hour; but he then
unlocked a huge closet, drew forth an enormous board, and mapped
thereon in white chalk the exercises of his own preparation for our
evening's practice. These were pure, were simple, as his introductory
address.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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