“The artist, a traveller on this earth, leaves behind imperishable traces of his being.”—­Francois Delsarte.

We would fain prolong the faintest rays of all that glitters and fades too soon, and if intense light is generated in a human brain, we strive to retain its every reflection.  Nothing is indifferent which concerns the nature of the chosen few; great men belong to the annals of their nation, and history should be informed regarding them.

Francois Delsarte left this life at the moment when misfortune had crushed France beneath her iron heel for some ten years.  The date of his death—­July 20, 1871—­partially explains the silence of the press on the occasion of so vast a social loss.

The circumstance of an artistic education, which was carried on in my presence, gave me opportunity to collect a mass of incidents and observations in regard to the great artist who is the object of this sketch.

I collected ideas in regard to his instruction, his method and his discovery of the laws of aesthetics, which are the more precious that nothing, or almost nothing, was published by him touching upon subjects of such supreme importance.  It is my duty to tell what I know.

I have already established the bases of the work which I now undertake, in a pamphlet containing several articles published in various newspapers.  These articles were written under the inspiration of the moment; they won the master’s approval.  I shall have frequent recourse to them to correct the errors of memory and give more vivid life to that now distant past.

Delsarte was born at Solesmes (Department of the North), November 9, 1811.  His father was a practicing physician; but tormented by a genius for invention, he spent his time and money in studies and experiments.  Then, when he succeeded in producing some mechanical novelty, some capitalist more used to trade and rich enough to start the affair, usually reaped all the profits.  This condition of things, of course, produced great poverty in the family of the inventor, and the children’s education suffered in consequence, and yet young Francois even then showed signs of superior endowments.  A missionary, passing through Solesmes, said to him:  “As for you, I don’t know what you will turn out, but you will never be an ordinary man!” In spite of this, his parents intended him for trade, being unable to direct his talents toward science and the liberal arts.

Before proceeding farther, I must consider a question often asked in regard to the great artist, and concerning which his family have kindly informed me.

For a long time Delsarte signed his name in a single word, as I write it now; why, then, should we ever see it written with the separate particle, which seems to aim at nobility and which gives us the form, del Sarte?  I will give you the tradition as it is told in Solesmes, and as the artist heard it during a visit to his native place.  If it be fiction, it is not without interest, and I take pleasure in telling it.