ssed--become strong. Those not in use
atrophy and fall victims to arrested development.

Man is the instrument of Deity--through man does Deity create. And the
artist is one who expresses for others their best thoughts and feelings.
He may arouse in men emotions that were dormant, and so were unguessed;
but under the spell of the artist-spirit, these dormant faculties are
awakened from lethargy--they are exercised, and once the thrill of life
is felt through them, they will probably be exercised again and again.

All art is collaboration between the performer and the partaker--music
is especially a collaboration. It is a oneness of feeling: action and
reaction, an intermittent current of emotion that plays backward and
forward between the player and his audience. The player is the positive
pole, or masculine principle; and the audience the negative pole, or
feminine principle.

In great oratory the same transposition takes place. Almost every one
can recall occasions when there was an absolute fusion of thought,
feeling and emotion between the speaker and the audience--when one mind
dominated all, and every heart beat in unison with his. The great
musician is the one who feels intensely, and is able to express
vividly, and thus impart his emotion to others.

Robert Schumann was such a man. In his youth, when he played at parlor
gatherings he could fuse the listeners into an absolute oneness of
spirit. You can not make others feel unless you yourself feel; you can
not make others see unless you yourself see. Robert Schumann saw. He
beheld the moving pictures, and as they passed before him he expressed
what he saw in harmonious sounds. His many admirers say he gave
"portraits" on the piano, and by sounds would describe certain persons,
so others who knew these persons would recognize them and call their
names.

Sterndale Bennett has told of Schumann's playing Weber's "Invitation to
the Dance," and accompanying it with little verbal explanations of what
he saw, thus: "There," said the player as he struck the opening chords,
"there, he bows, and so does she--he speaks--she speaks, and oh! what a
voice--how liquid! listen--hear the rustle of her gown--he speaks, a
little deeper, you notice--you can not hear the words, only their voices
blending in with the music--now they speak together--they are lovers,
surely--see, they understand--oh! the waltz--see them take those first
steps--they are swaying into time--away!--ther