At the period of the war of 1870-1871, Delsarte took refuge at Solesmes, his native place.  He left Paris, with his family, Sept. 10, 1870.  Already ill, he lived there sad, and crushed by the misfortunes of his country.  Nevertheless, during this stay, he developed various points in his method, and there his two daughters wrote at his dictation the manuscript, “Episodes of a Revelator;” his intellect had lost none of its vigor, but his nature was shadowed.

Francois Delsarte returned to Paris March 10, 1871, after his voluntary exile.  He soon yielded to a painful disease, doubtless regretting that he had not finished his work, but courageous and submissive.

As far as it lay in my power, my task is done.  I have furnished documents for the history of the arts; I have aroused and tried to fix attention upon that luminous point which was threatened with oblivion.

Now I call for the aid of all, that the work of memory may be accomplished.

There are still among us many admirers of Francois Delsarte, many hearts that loved him; a sort of silent freemasonry has been established between them; when they meet in society, at the theatre, at concerts, they recognize each other by mutual signs of regret or disappointment.  His name is pronounced, a few words are interchanged.

“Oh! those were happy days.  Will his like ever be seen again?”

To these I say:  Let us unite to assure him his place in the annals which assert the glories of the artist and the man of science!  Why should we not combine soon to raise a statue on the modest grave where he lies?  Why should we not do for the innovator in the arts what the country daily does for mechanical inventors and soldiers?

Part Fifth.

The Literary Remains of Francois Delsarte.

Translated by Abby L. Alger.

Publisher’s Note.

Part Fifth contains Francois Delsarte’s own words.

The manuscripts were purchased of Mme. Delsarte with the understanding that they were all she had of the literary remains of her illustrious husband.  They are published by her authorisation.

The reader will probably notice that at times Delsarte talks as if addressing an audience.  This he really did, and some of the manuscripts are headings or draughts of his lectures before learned societies or of talks at his own private sessions.

These writings are given to the public in the same fragmentary condition that Delsarte left them in.  They were written upon sheets of paper, scraps of paper, doors, chairs, window casements and other objects.  A literal translation has been made, without a word of comment, and without any attempt at editing them.  The aim has been to let Delsarte speak for himself, believing that the reader would rather have Delsarte’s own words even in this disjointed, incomplete form—­mere rough notes—­than to have them supplemented, annotated, interpreted and very likely perverted by another person.