PEDAGOGICAL 
The Grace of Naturalness. 
BY EDWARD F. BIGELOW, ARCADIA: SOUND 
BEACH, CONNECTICUT. 
“Have you always stuttered?” 
“N-n-n-no. I-I-h-have ssss-s-'tut 
(whistle) tered only when I have 
talked !” 
Judging from the various periodicals 
in which this alleged joke has appeared, 
many editors have recognized its 
humor. Careful analysis teaches that 
it is pedagogically significant. 
“Are you always awkward and diffi- 
dent?” “N-n-n-o. I am only so when 
I attempt to speak before people.” 
“Do your ideas get mixed and tumble 
over each other?” 
“N-n-no. It is only when I attempt 
to send these ideas out to others that I 
get confused. In my air-castle build- 
ing I am clear in thought and eloquent 
in expression.” 
There is the pedagogical key to the 
whole situation. Fluency of ideas, 
eloquence of expression, grace of man- 
ner are attained only by naturalness, 
by annihilating self-consciouness. In 
method of thought, in manner of action 
every human being is practically per- 
fect when alone. It seems therefore 
that sins of expression like social sins 
are only matters of association. The 
individual lives in a Garden of Eden so 
long as he is alone or so long as he is 
completely within the shell of his own 
individuality. 
I stood on the bank of the meadow, 
and with admiration for the grace and 
beauty of their motions I watched the 
workmen digging a ditch. It was a 
study for an artist. But if I go down 
to that ditch and ask those men to let 
me photograph them, at once they be- 
come awkward and constrained. If I 
am to picture their graceful attitudes I 
must take them without awakening 
their self-consciousness. It is only a 
great actor that can act before other 
persons in perfect naturalness. 
At my home in Sound Beach, 
Connecticut, there are, in the early 
spring, acres and acres of dandelions to 
which come the Italian women of 
Stamford. They dig up these succu- 
lent plants, fill big bags with them and 
then trudge picturesquely homeward. 
I have never seen these workaday 
women gathering dandelions or trudg- 
ing homeward, but I have exclaimed to 
65 
myself, “What perfect grace, what 
beauty of expression.” A queen in a 
drawing-room could not more charm- 
ingly converse with her friends than 
do these Italian workers with theirs. 
But let me approach with a camera 
and so awaken their self-consciousness, 
and how awkward and embarrassed the 
whole situation becomes. I have longed 
to get their expressions as they chat 
with one another on their homeward 
journey, but I am not able to do so be- 
cause the advent of the camera is fol- 
lowed by ridiculous and awkward 
movements. If 1 could be half a mile 
away and completely hidden I should 
get a masterpiece of genre photog- 
raphy. Anyone who studies that type 
of photography in the leading maga- 
zines devoted to the camera will ob- 
serve that not only mechanical perfec- 
tion helps in securing the first prize, 
but in some manner the photographer 
must counteract that “I am being pho- 
tographed” expression. 
I recall that a good many years ago, 
when I was a young boy, I attended a 
meeting of the voters of the school dis- 
trict in the backwoods where a certain 
matter was considered of tremendous 
and vital importance. While waiting 
for the meeting to be called to order, 
several of the farmers expressed them- 
selves so eloquently that in my boyish 
soliloquy I said, “This is the way Pat 
Henry or Abe Lincoln must have done 
it to gain fame.” One man was par- 
ticularly eloquent. He had the power 
to stir the entire company and to elicit 
tremendous applause. As he ended his 
address his brother entered the school- 
house. After a few minutes of social 
chat and jocose bantering, the chair- 
man called the meeting- to order. The 
minutes were read, the subject of the 
evening was introduced and somebody 
made a motion that Mr. , who 
had studied up the question thorough- 
ly, should present the matter formally 
to the meeting. Mr. — — — arose, 
hemmed and hawed, coughed, fumbled 
with his coat and apologetically ex- 
plained that he was not much of a 
speaker and pitifully labored through 
his argument. He made his points 
fairly well but was ridiculously self- 
conscious. That scene in that country 
schoolhouse made a lifelong impression 
on me. I then and there learned the 
