The world owes a debt to Delsarte for collecting under the title “Archives of Song,” the lyric gems of the XVI, XVII, and XVIII centuries.  And also the songs of the Middle Ages, the prose hymns and anthems of the church, arranged conformably to the harmonic type consecrated by the oldest traditions.

“All these works,” he wrote in his announcement of the work, “faithfully copied, arranged for the piano and transposed for concert performance, will finally be arranged and classified in separate volumes, to suit various voices, ages, styles, schools, etc., thus affording subject matter for a complete course of vocal studies.”

I do not think that death allowed Delsarte to complete this vast plan, but it was partly finished.  In the collection, we find the scattered treasures of an eminently French muse:  old songs picked up in the provinces, in which wit and naive sentimentality dispute for precedence.  All this still exists, but who can sing as he did the song beginning:  “I was but fifteen,” or “Lisette, my love, shall I forever languish?” and so many others!

To explain the inexpressible charm which distinguished Delsarte from all other singers, a songstress once said:  “His singing contrives to give us the soul of the note.  The others are artists, but he is the artist.”

Chapter XVI.

Delsarte’s Evening Lectures.

In Francois Delsarte’s school there were morning classes and evening classes.  The former were more especially devoted to the theory, to lessons.  Those of which I shall speak might be compared to lectures, to dramatic and musical meetings.  A choice public was always present.  Among them were: 

The composers Reber and Gounod;

Doctor Dailly, Madame de Meyendorf—­a great Russian lady, the friend of art;

The Princess de Chimay and the Princess Czartoriska, who glided modestly in and took the humblest place;

Madame Blanchecotte, whose charming verses were crowned by the Academy;

Countess d’Haussonville, a familiar name;

M. Joly de Bammeville, one of the exhibitors at the Exhibition of
Retrospective Arts, in 1878;

Doriot, the sculptor; Madame de Lamartine, Madame Laure de Leomenil, a well-known painter; Madame de Blocqueville, daughter of Marshal Davout, and author of his biography; a throng of artists, men of letters and scientists; certain original figures of the period.

On one occasion we were joined by a man of some celebrity—­the chiromancist Desbarolles.  Delsarte had the courtesy to base his theory lesson upon the latter’s system; he pointed out its points of relation with the sum total of the constitution of the human being.  It was a lesson full of spirit and piquant allusions; one of those charming impromptus in which Delsarte never failed.