Chapter I.

Preliminary Ideas--criterion of the Oratorical Art.

Let us note an incontestable fact. The science of the Art of Oratory has not yet been taught. Hitherto genius alone, and not science, has made great orators. Horace, Quintilian and Cicero among the ancients, and numerous modern writers have treated of oratory as an art. We admire their writings, but this is not science; here we seek in vain the fundamental laws whence their teachings proceed. There is no science without principles which give a reason for its facts. Hence to teach and to learn the art of oratory, it is necessary:

To understand the general law which controls the movements of the organs;
To apply this general law to the movements of each particular organ;
To understand the meaning of the form of each of these movements;
To adapt this meaning to each of the different states of the soul.

The fundamental law, whose stamp every one of these organs bears, must be kept carefully in mind. Here is the formula:

The sensitive, mental and moral state of man are rendered by the eccentric, concentric or normal form of the organism.^[1]

Such is the first and greatest law. There is a second law, which proceeds from the first and is similar to it:

Each form of the organism becomes triple by borrowing the form of the two others.

It is in the application of these two laws that the entire practice of the art of oratory consists. Here, then, is a science, for we possess a criterion with which all phenomena must agree, and which none can gainsay. This criterion, composed of our double formula, we represent in a chart, whose explanation must be carefully studied.

The three primitive forms or genera which affect the organs are represented by the three transverse lines.

[Illustration]

The subdivision of the three genera into nine species is noted in the three perpendicular columns.

Under the title Genus we shall use the Roman numerals I, III, II.

Under the title Species we employ the Arabic figures 1, 3, 2.

I designates the eccentric form, II the concentric form, III the normal form.

The Arabic figures have the same signification.

The normal form, either in the genus or the species, we place in the middle column, because it serves as a bond of union between the two others, as the moral state is the connecting link between the intellectual and vital states.

Thus the first law relative to the primitive forms of the organs is applied in the three transverse columns, and the second law relative to their compound forms is reproduced in the three vertical columns.

As may be easily proven, the eccentric genus produces three species of eccentric forms, marked in the three divisions of the lower transverse column.

Since the figure 1 represents the eccentric form, 1-I will designate the form of the highest degree of eccentricity, which we call eccentro-eccentric.

Since the figure 3 represents the normal form, the numbers 3-I will indicate the normo-eccentricform.

Since the figure 2 designates the form which translates intelligence, the figures 2-I indicate the concentro-eccentric form as a species. As the species proceeds from the genus, we begin by naming the species in order to bring it back to the genus. Thus, in the column of the eccentric genus the figure 1 is placed after the numbers 3 and 2, which belong to the species. We must apply the same analysis to the transverse column of the normal genus, as also to that of the concentric genus.

Following a diagonal from the bottom to the top and from left to right, we meet the most expressive form of the species, whether eccentric, normal or concentric, marked by the figures 1-I, 3-III, 2-II, and by the abbreviations Ecc.-ecc. (Eccentro-eccentric), Norm.-norm. (Normo-normal), Conc.-conc. (Concentro-concentric). It is curious to remark how upon this diagonal the organic manifestations corresponding to the soul, that is to love, are found in the midst, to link the expressive forms of life and mind.

This chart sums up all the essential forms which can affect the organism. This is a universal algebraic formula, by which we can solve all organic problems. We apply it to the hand, to the shoulder, to the eyes, to the voice--in a word, to all the agents of oratorical language. For example, it suffices to know the eccentro-eccentric form of the hand, of the eyes; and we reserve it for the appropriate occasion.

All the figures accompanying the text of this work are only reproductions of this chart affected by such or such a particular organ. A knowledge of this criterion gives to our studies not only simplicity, clearness and facility, but also mathematical precision.

In proposing the accord of nine formed by the figure 3 multiplied into itself, it must be understood that we give the most elementary, most usual and least complicated terms. Through natural and successive subdivisions we can arrive at 81 terms. Thus multiply 9 by 3; the number 27 gives an accord of 27 terms, which can again be multiplied by 3 to reach 81. Or rather let us multiply 9 by 9, and we in like manner obtain 81 terms, which become the end of the series. This is the alpha and omega of all human science. Huc usque venies, et ibi confringes tumentes fluctus tuos. ("Thus far shalt thou come, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.")

It is well to remark that this criterion is applied to all possible phenomena, both in the arts and sciences. This is reason, universal synthesis. All phenomena, spiritual as well as material, must be considered under three or nine aspects, or not be understood. Three genera and nine species; three and nine in everything and everywhere; three and nine, these are the notes echoed by all beings. We do not fear to affirm that this criterion is divine, since it conforms to the nature of beings. Then, with this compass in hand, let us explore the vast field of oratorical art, and begin with the voice.

NOTE TO THE STUDENT.--Do not go on without a perfect understanding of this explanation of the criterion, as well as the exposition of our method which closes the preface.

Chapter II.
Of The Voice.

The whole secret of captivating an audience by the charms of the voice, consists in a practical knowledge of the laws of sound, inflection, respiration and silence. The voice first manifests itself through sound; inflection is an intentional modification of sound; respiration and silence are a means of falling exactly upon the suitable tone and inflection.

Sound being the first language of man in the cradle, the least we can demand of the orator is, that he speak intelligently a language whose author is instinct. The orator must then listen to his own voice in order to understand it, to estimate its value, to cultivate it by correcting its faults, to guide it--in a word, to dispose of it at will, according to the inclination of the moment. We begin the study of the voice with Sound; and as sound may be viewed under several aspects, we divide this heading into as many sections.

Compass of the Voice--Organic Apparatus of the Voice.

This apparatus is composed of the larynx, the mouth and the lungs. Each of these agents derives its value from mutual action with the others. The larynx of itself is nothing, and can be considered only through its participation in the simultaneous action of the mouth and lungs.

Sound, then, is formed by a triple agent--projective, vibrative and reflective.

The lungs are the soliciting agent, the larynx is the vibrative agent, the mouth is the reflective agent. These must act in unison, or there is no result. The larynx might be called the mouth of the instrument, the inside of the mouth the pavilion, the lungs the artist. In a violin, the larynx would be the string, the lungs the bow, the mouth the instrument itself.

The triple action of these agents produces phonation. They engender sounds and inflections. Sound is the revelation of the sensitive life to the minutest degree; inflections are the revelation of the same life in a higher degree, and this is why they are the foundation and the charm of music.

Such is the wonderful organism of the human voice, such the powerful instrument Providence has placed at the disposal of the orator. But what avails the possession of an instrument if one does not know how to use it, or how to tune it? The orator, ignorant of the laws of sound and inflection, resembles the debutant who places the trumpet to his lips for the first time. We know the ear-torturing tones he evolves.

The ear is the most delicate, the most exacting of all our senses. The eye is far more tolerant. The eye resigns itself to behold a bad gesture, but the ear does not forgive a false note or a false inflection. It is through the voice we please an audience. If we have the ear of an auditor, we easily win his mind and heart. The voice is a mysterious hand which touches, envelops and caresses the heart.

Of the Voice in Relation to Compass.

All voices do not have the same compass, or the same range. By range we mean the number of tones the voice can produce below and above a given note on the staff, say A, second space of the treble clef.

There are four distinct kinds of voices: Soprano, alto, tenor and bass. There are also intermediate voices, possessing the peculiar quality of the kind to which it belongs, for example: Mezzo-soprano, with the quality of the soprano and only differing from the soprano in range, the range of this voice being lower than the soprano and a little higher than the alto. Then comes the alto or contralto.

In the male voice we have the tenor robusto, a little lower than the pure tenor and more powerful; next the baritone, a voice between the tenor and bass, but possessing very much the quality of the bass.

The tones in the range of every voice can be divided into three parts--the lower, medium and higher. Thus we would say of a performer, he or she used the lower or higher tones, or whatever the case may be. This applies to every kind of voice.

The soprano voice ranges generally from the middle C, first added line below on the treble clef, upwards to A, first added line above the staff. Contralto voices range generally from G, below middle C in the treble clef, up to F, the upper line of the clef.

The tenor voice ranges from C, second space of the F clef, to D, second space in the treble clef.

The bass voice ranges from lower F, first space below of the F or bass clef, to D, second space above of this clef.^[2]

The first perception of the human voice imperatively demands, 1. That the voice be tried and its compass measured in order to ascertain to what species it belongs. Its name must be known with absolute certainty. It would be shameful in a musician not to know the name of the instrument he uses. 2. That the ear be trained in order to distinguish the pitch upon which one speaks.

We should be able to name a sound and to sound a name. The Orientals could sing eight degrees of tone between C and D. There may be a whole scale, a whole air between these two tones. It would be unpardonable not to know how to distinguish or at least to sound a semitone.

There is a fact proved by experience, which must not be forgotten. The high voice, with elevated brows, serves to express intensity of passion, as well as small, trivial and also pleasant things.

The deep voice, with the eyes open, expresses worthy things.

The deep voice, with the eyes closed, expresses odious things.

The Voice in Relation to Vowels.

As already stated, the vocal apparatus is composed of the lungs, the larynx and the mouth; but its accessories are the teeth, the lips, the palate and the uvula. The tip and root of the tongue, the arch of the palate and the nasal cavities have also their share in perfecting the acoustic apparatus.

In classifying the different varieties of voice, we have considered them only in their rudimentary state. Ability to name and distinguish the several tones of voice is the starting point. We have an image more or less perfect, leaving the mould; we have a canvas containing the design, but not the embroidery--the mere outline of an instrument, a body without a soul. The voice being the language of the sensitive life, the passional state must pass entirely into the voice.

We must know then how to give it an expression, a color answering to the sentiment it conveys. But this expressive form of the voice depends upon the sound of its vowels.

There is a mother vowel, a generative tone. It is a (Italian a). In articulating a the mouth opens wide, giving a sound similar to a in arm.

The primitive a takes three forms. The unaccented, Italian a represents the normal state; a with the acute accent (') represents the eccentric state; a with the grave accent (`) represents the concentric state.

These three a's derived from primitive a become each in turn the progenitor of a family with triple sounds, as may be seen in the following genealogical tree:

Á	A A	À
---------------------------
é	o	e
è	au	eu
i	ou	u
Eccentric.	Normal.	Concentric.

This is the only simple sound, but four other sounds are derived from it. The three a's articulated by closing the uvula, give the nasal an. Each family also gives its special nasal sound: in for the eccentric voice, on for the normal state, un for the concentric. All other sounds are derived from combinations of these. The mouth cannot possibly produce more than three families of sounds, and in each family it is a united with the others that forms the trinity.

The variety of sounds in these three families of vowels arises from the difference of the opening of the mouth and lips in articulating them. These different modes of articulation may be rendered more intelligible by the subjoined diagrams:

â is pronounced with the mouth very wide open, the uvula raised and the tongue much lowered.

é, è, i and in are articulated with the lips open and the back part of the mouth gradually closed.

a, au, ou and on are articulated with the back of the mouth open and the lips gradually closed.

e, eu, u and un are articulated with the back of the mouth and the lips uniformly closed.

The voice takes different names, according to the different sounds in each family of vowels: the chest-voice, the medium voice and the head-voice.

These names imply no change in the sort of voice, but a change in the manner of emission. The head, medium or chest-voice, indicates only variety in the emission of vowels, and may be applied to the high as well as the deep and medium voice. Thus the deep voice may produce sounds in the head-voice, as well as in the medium and chest voices.

The head-voice is produced by lowering the larynx, and at the same time raising the uvula. In swallowing, the larynx rises by the elevation of the uvula, without which elevation there can be no head-tones.

Practical Conclusions.

1. It is highly important to know how to assume either of these voices at will. The chest-voice is the expression of the sensitive or vital life, and is the interpreter of all physical emotions. The medium voice expresses sentiment and the moral emotions. The head-voice interprets everything pertaining to scientific or mental phenomena. By observing the laugh in the vital, moral and intellectual states, we shall see that the voice takes the sound of the vowel corresponding to each state.

We understand the laugh of an individual; if upon the i (e long), he has made a sorry jest; if upon é (a in fate), he has nothing in his heart and most likely nothing in his head; if upon á (a short), the laugh is forced. O, à, (a long) and ou are the only normal expressions. Thus every one is measured, numbered, weighed. There is reason in everything, even when unknown to man. In physical pain or joy, the laugh or groan employs the vowels é, è, i.^[3]

2. The chest-voice should be little used, as it is a bestial and very fatiguing voice.

3. The head-voice or the medium voice is preferable, it being more noble and more ample, and not fatiguing. In these voices there is far less danger of hoarseness. The head and medium voices proceed more from the mouth, while the chest-voice has its vibrating point in the larynx.

4. The articulation of the three syllables, la, mo and po, is a very useful exercise in habituating one to the medium voice. Besides reproducing the tone of this voice, these are the musical consonants par excellence. They give charm and development to the voice. We can repeat these tones without fatiguing the vocal chords, since they are produced by the articulative apparatus.

5. It is well to remark that the chest, medium and head voices are synonymous with the eccentric, normal or concentric voice.

6. It is only a hap-hazard sort of orator who does not know how to attain, at the outset, what is called the white voice, to be colored afterward at will. The voice should resemble the painter's pallet, where all the colors are arranged in an orderly manner, according to the affinities of each. A colorless tint may be attained in the same way as a pure tint. It may be well to remark here, although by anticipation, that the expressions of the hand and brow belong to the voice. The coloring of the larynx corresponds to the movements of the hand or brows.

Sound is painting, or it is nothing. It should be in affinity with the subject.

Chapter III.
The Voice in Relation to Intensity of Sound.

What is Understood by Intensity of Sound.

The voice has three dimensions--height, depth and breadth; in other terms, diapason, intensity and duration; or in yet other words, tonality, timbre and succession.

Intensity may be applied alike to the voice and to sound. The voice is strong or weak, according to the mechanism of the acoustic apparatus. The strength or weakness of sound depends upon the speaker, who from the same apparatus evolves tones more or less strong. It is the forte, piano and pianissimo in music. Thus a loud voice can render weak tones, and a weak voice loud tones. Hence the tones of both are capable of increase or diminution.

Means of Augmenting the Timbre of the Voice.

1. A stronger voice may be obtained by taking position not upon the heel or flat of the foot, but upon the ball near the toes--that attitude which further on we shall designate as the third. The chest is eccentric; that is, convex and dilated. In this position all the muscles are tense and resemble the chords of an instrument whose resonance is proportional to their tension.

2. There are three modes of developing the voice. A voice may be manufactured. A natural voice is almost always more or less changed by a thousand deleterious influences.

1. In volume, by lowering the larynx, elevating the soft-palate and hollowing the tongue.

2. In intensity.--A loud voice may be hollow. It must be rendered deep, forcible and brilliant by these three methods: profound inspiration, explosion and expulsion. The intensity of an effect may depend upon expulsion or an elastic movement. Tenuity is elasticity. It is the rarest and yet the most essential quality of diction.

3. In compass.--There are three ways of increasing the compass of the voice:

By the determination of its pitch;
By practicing the vocal scale;
By the fusion of the registers upon the key-note.

The first of these methods is most effective. The second consists in exercising upon those notes which are near the key-note. Upon this exercise depends in great measure the homogeneity of the voice. Taking la for the diapason, the voice which extends from the lowest notes to upper re is the chest-voice, since it suffers no acoustic modification. From mi to la the voice is modified; it is the medium voice, or the second register, which gives full and supple tones. The head or throat-voice, or the third register, extends from si to the highest and sharpest notes. Its tones are weak, and should be avoided as much as possible. There are then only four good notes--those from mi to la, upon which the voice should be exercised. By uniting the registers, an artificial, homogeneous voice may be created, whose tones are produced without compression and without difficulty. This being done, it is evident that every note of the voice must successively indicate the three registers--that is, it must be rendered in the chest, medium and head voices.

There is also a method of diminishing the voice. As the tone is in proportion to the volume of air in the lungs, it may be weakened by contracting the epiglottis or by suppressing the respiration.

Rules for Intensity of Sound.

1. The strength of the voice is in an inverse ratio to the respiration. The more we are moved, the less loudly we speak; the less the emotion, the stronger the voice. In emotion, the heart seems to mount to the larynx, and the voice is stifled. A soft tone should always be an affecting tone, and consist only of a breath. Force is always opposed to power. It is an error to suppose that the voice must be increased as the heart is laid bare. The lowest tones are the best understood. If we would make a low voice audible, let us speak as softly as we can.

Go to the sea-shore when the tempest rages. The roar of the waves as they break against the vessel's side, the muttering thunders, the furious wind-gusts render the strongest voice impotent. Go upon a battle-field when drums beat and trumpets sound. In the midst of this uproar, these discordant cries, this tumult of opposing armies, the leader's commands, though uttered in the loudest tones, can scarce be heard; but a low whistle will be distinctly audible. The voice is intense in serenity and calm, but in passion it is weak.

Let those who would bring forward subtle arguments against this law, remember that logic is often in default when applied to artistic facts.

A concert is given in a contracted space, with an orchestra and a double-bass. The double-bass is very weak. Logic would suggest two double-basses in order to produce a stronger tone. Quite the contrary. Two double-basses give only a semitone, which half a double-bass renders of itself. So much for logic in this case.

The greatest joy is in sorrow, for here there is the greatest love. Other joys are only on the surface. We suffer and we weep because we love. Of what avail are tears? The essential thing is to love. Tears are the accessories; they will come in time, they need not be sought. Nothing so wearies and disgusts us, as the lachrymose tone. A man who amounts to anything is never a whimperer.

Take two instruments in discord and remote from each other. Logic forbids their approach lest their tones become more disagreeable. The reverse is true. In bringing them together, the lowest becomes higher and the highest lower, and there is an accord.

Let us suppose a hall with tapestries, a church draped in black. Logic says, "sing more loudly." But this must be guarded against lest the voice become lost in the draperies. The voice should scarce reach these too heavy or too sonorous partitions, but leaving the lips softly, it should pulsate through the audience, and go no farther.

An audience is asleep. Logic demands more warmth, more fire. Not at all. Keep silent and the sleepers will awaken.

2. Sound, notwithstanding its many shades, should be homogeneous; that is, as full at the end as at the beginning. The mucous membrane, the lungs and the expiratory muscles have sole charge of its transmission. The vocal tube must not vary any more for the loud tone than for the low tone. The opening must be the same. The low tone must have the power of the loud tone, since it is to be equally understood. The acoustic organs should have nothing to do with the transmission of sound. They must be inert so that the tone may be homogeneous. The speaker or singer should know how to diminish the tone without the contraction of the back part of the mouth.

To be homogeneous the voice must be ample. To render it ample, take high rather than low notes. The dipthong eu (like u in muff), and the vowels u and o give amplitude to sound. On the contrary, the tone is meagre in articulating the vowels é, í and á. To render the voice ample, we open the throat and roll forth the sound. The more the sound is circumvoluted, the more ample it is. To render the voice resonant, we draw the tongue from the teeth and give it a hollow form; then we lower the larynx, and in this way imitate the French horn.

3. The voice should always be sympathetic, kindly, calm, and noble, even when the most repulsive things are expressed. A tearful voice is a grave defect, and must be avoided. The same may be said of the tremulous voice of the aged, who emphasize and prolong their syllables. Tears are out of place in great situations; we should weep only at home. To weep is a sure way of making people laugh.

Chapter IV.
The Voice in Relation to Measure.

Of Slowness and Rapidity in Oratorical Delivery.

The third and last relation in which we shall study voice, is its breadth, that is, the measure or rhythm of its tones.

The object of measure in oratorical diction is to regulate the interval of sounds. But the length of the interval between one sound and another is subject to the laws of slowness and rapidity, respiration, silence and inflection.

Let us first consider slowness and rapidity, and the rules which govern them.

1. A hasty delivery is by no means a proof of animation, warmth, fire, passion or emotion in the orator; hence in delivery, as in tone, haste is in an inverse ratio to emotion. We do not glide lightly over a beloved subject; a prolongation of tones is the complaisance of love. Precipitation awakens suspicions of heartlessness; it also injures the effect of the discourse. A teacher with too much facility or volubility puts his pupils to sleep, because he leaves them nothing to do, and they do not understand his meaning. But let the teacher choose his words carefully, and every pupil will want to suggest some idea; all will work. In applauding an orator we usually applaud ourselves. He says what we were just ready to say; we seem to have suggested the idea. It is superfluous to remark that slowness without gesture, and especially without facial expression, would be intolerable. A tone must always be reproduced with an expression of the face.

2. The voice must not be jerky. Here we must keep jealous watch over ourselves. The entire interest of diction arises from a fusion of tones. The tones of the voice are sentient beings, who love, hold converse, follow each other and blend in a harmonious union.

3. It is never necessary to dwell upon the sound we have just left; this would be to fall into that jerky tone we wish to avoid.

Of Respiration and Silence.

We place respiration and silence under the same head because of their affinity, for respiration may often be accounted silence.

Of silence.--Silence is the father of speech, and must justify it. Every word which does not proceed from silence and find its vindication in silence, is a spurious word without claim or title to our regard. Origin is the stamp, in virtue of which we recognize the intrinsic value of things. Let us, then, seek in silence the sufficient reason of speech, and remember that the more enlightened the mind is, the more concise is the speech that proceeds from it. Let us assume, then, that this conciseness keeps pace with the elevation of the mind, and that when the mind arrives at the perception of the true light, finding no words that can portray the glories open to its view, it keeps silent and admires. It is through silence that the mind rises to perfection, for silence is the speech of God.

Apart from this consideration, silence recommends itself as a powerful agent in oratorical effects. By silence the orator arouses the attention of his audience, and often deeply moves their hearts. When Peter Chrysologue, in his famous homily upon the gospel miracle of the healing of the issue of blood, overcome by emotion, paused suddenly and remained silent, all present immediately burst into sobs.

Furthermore, silence gives the orator time and liberty to judge of his position. An orator should never speak without having thought, reflected and arranged his ideas. Before speaking he should decide upon his stand-point, and see clearly what he proposes to do. Even a fable may be related from many points of view; from that of expression as well as gesture, from that of inflection as well as articulate speech. All must be brought back to a scene in real life, to one stand-point, and the orator must create for himself, in some sort, the rôle of spectator.

Silence gives gesture time to concentrate, and do good execution.

One single rule applies to silence: Wherever there is ellipsis, there is silence. Hence the interjection and conjunction, which are essentially elliptic, must always be followed by a silence.

Respiration.--For the act of respiration, three movements are necessary: inspiration, suspension and expiration.

Its importance.--Respiration is a faithful rendering of emotion. For example: He who reigns in the skies. Here is a proposition which the composed orator will state in a breath. But should he wish to prove his emotion, he inspires after every word. He--who--reigns--in--the--skies. Multiplied inspirations can be tolerated on the strength of emotion, but they should be made as effective as possible.

Inspiration is allowable:--

After all words preceded or followed by an ellipse;
After words used in apostrophe, as Monsieur, Madame;
After conjunctions and interjections when there is silence;
After all transpositions; for example: To live, one must work. Here the preposition to takes the value of its natural antecedent, work; that is to say, six degrees, since by inversion it precedes it, and the gesture of the sentence bears wholly on the preposition;
Before and after incidental phrases;
Wherever we wish to indicate an emotion.

To facilitate respiration, stand on tip-toe and expand the chest.

Inspiration is a sign of grief; expiration is a sign of tenderness. Sorrow is inspiratory; happiness, expiratory.

The inspiratory act expresses sorrow, dissimulation.

The expiratory act expresses love, expansion, sympathy.

The suspensory act expresses reticence and disquietude. A child who has just been corrected deservedly, and who recognizes his fault, expires. Another corrected unjustly, and who feels more grief than love, inspires.

Inspiration is usually regulated by the signs of punctuation, which have been invented solely to give more exactness to the variety of sounds.

Inflections.

Their importance.--Sound, we have said, is the language of man in the sensitive state. We call inflections the modifications which affect the voice in rendering the emotions of the senses. The tones of the voice must vary with the sensations, each of which should have its note. Of what use to man would be a phonetic apparatus always rendering the same sound? Delivery is a sort of music whose excellence consists in a variety of tones which rise or fall according to the things they have to express. Beautiful but uniform voices resemble fine bells whose tone is sweet and clear, full and agreeable, but which are, after all, bells, signifying nothing, devoid of harmony and consequently without variety. To employ always the same action and the same tone of voice, is like giving the same remedy for all diseases. "Ennui was born one day from monotony," says the fable.

Man has received from God the privilege of revealing the inmost affections of his being through the thousand inflections of his voice. Man's least impressions are conveyed by signs which reveal harmony, and which are not the products of chance. A sovereign wisdom governs these signs.

With the infant in its cradle the signs of sensibility are broken cries. Their acuteness, their ascending form, indicate the weakness, and physical sorrow of man. When the child recognizes the tender cares of its mother, its voice becomes less shrill and broken; its tones have a less acute range, and are more poised and even. The larynx, which is very impressionable and the thermometer of the sensitive life, becomes modified, and produces sounds and inflections in perfect unison with the sentiments they convey.

All this, which man expresses in an imitative fashion, is numbered, weighed and measured, and forms an admirable harmony. This language through the larynx is universal, and common to all sensitive beings. It is universal with animals as with man. Animals give the identical sounds in similar positions.

The infant, delighted at being mounted on a table, and calling his mother to admire him, rises to the fourth note of the scale. If his delight becomes more lively, to the sixth; if the mother is less pleased than he would have her, he ascends to the third minor to express his displeasure. Quietude is expressed by the fourth note.

Every situation has its interval, its corresponding inflection, its corresponding note: this is a mathematical language.

Why this magnificent concert God has arranged in our midst if it has no auditors? If God had made us only intelligent beings, he would have given us speech alone and without inflections. Let us further illustrate the rôle of inflection.

A father receives a picture from his daughter. He expresses his gratitude by a falling inflection: "Ah well! the dear child." The picture comes from a stranger whom he does not know as a painter; he will say, "Well now! why does he send me this?" raising his voice.

If he does not know from whom the picture comes, his voice will neither rise nor fall; he will say, "Well! well! well!"

Let us suppose that his daughter is the painter. She has executed a masterpiece. Astonished at the charm of this work and at the same time grateful, his voice will have both inflections.

If surprise predominates over love the rising inflection will predominate. If love and surprise are equal, he will simply say, "Well now!"

Kan in Chinese signifies at the same time the roof of a house, a cellar, well, chamber, bed--the inflection alone determines the meaning. Roof is expressed by the falling, cellar by the rising inflection. The Chinese note accurately the depth and acuteness of sound, its intervals and its intensity.

We can say: "It is pretty, this little dog!" in 675 different ways. Some one would do it harm. We say: "This little dog is pretty, do not harm it!" "It is pretty because it is so little." If it is a mischievous or vicious dog, we use pretty in an ironical sense. "This dog has bitten my hand. It is a pretty dog indeed!" etc.

Rules of Inflection.

1. Inflections are formed by an upward or downward slide of the voice, or the voice remains in monotone. Inflections are, then, eccentric, concentric and normal.

2. The voice rises in exaltation, astonishment, and conflict.

3. The voice falls in affirmation, affection and dejection.

4. It neither rises nor falls in hesitation.

5. Interrogation is expressed by the rising inflection when we do not know what we ask; by the falling, when we do not quite know what we ask. For instance, a person asks tidings of his friend's health, aware or unaware that he is no better.

6. Musical tones should be given to things that are pleasing. Courtiers give musical inflections to the words they address to royalty.

7. Every manifestation of life is a song; every sound is a song. But inflections must not be multiplied, lest delivery degenerate into a perpetual sing-song. The effect lies entirely in reproducing the same inflection. A drop of water falling constantly, hollows a rock. A mediocre man will employ twenty or thirty tones. Mediocrity is not the too little, but the too much. The art of making a profound impression is to condense; the highest art would be to condense a whole scene into one inflection. Mediocre speakers are always seeking to enrich their inflections; they touch at every range, and lose themselves in a multitude of intangible effects.

8. In real art it is not always necessary to fall back upon logic. The reason needs illumination from nature, as the eye, in order to see, needs light. Reason may be in contradiction to nature. For instance, a half-famished hunter, in sight of a good dinner, would say: "I am hungry" emphasizing hungry, while reason would say that am must be emphasized. A hungry pauper would say: "I am hungry," dwelling upon am and gliding over hungry. If he were not hungry, or wished to deceive, he would dwell upon hungry.

Special Inflections.

Among the special inflections we may reckon:--

1. Exclamations.--Abrupt, loud, impassioned sounds, and improvisations.

2. Cries.--These are prolonged exclamations called forth by a lively sentiment of some duration, as acute suffering, joy or terror. They are formed by the sound a. In violent pain arising from a physical cause, the cries assume three different tones: one grave, another acute, the last being the lowest, and we pass from one to the other in a chromatic order.

There are appealing cries which ask aid in peril. These cries are formed by the sounds ē and ŏ. They are slower than the preceding, but more acute and of greater intensity.

3. Groans.--Here the voice is plaintive, pitiful, and formed by two successive tones, the one sharp, the final one deep. Its monotony, the constant recurrence of the same inflection, give it a remarkable expression.

4. Lamentation is produced by a voice loud, plaintive, despairing and obstinate, indicating a heart which can neither contain nor restrain itself.

5. The sob is an uninterrupted succession of sounds produced by slight, continuous inspirations, in some sort convulsive, and ending in a long, violent inspiration.

6. The sigh is a weak low tone produced by a quick expiration followed by a slow and deep inspiration.

7. The laugh is composed of a succession of loud, quick, monotonous sounds formed by an uninterrupted series of slight expirations, rapid and somewhat convulsive, of a tone more or less acute and prolonged, and produced by a deep inspiration.

8. Singing is the voice modulated or composed of a series of appreciable tones.

Part Second.
Gesture.

Chapter I.
Of Gesture in General.

Human word is composed of three languages. Man says what he feels by inflections of the voice, what he loves by gesture, what he thinks by articulate speech. The child begins with feeling; then he loves, and later, he reasons. While the child only feels, cries suffice him; when he loves, he needs gestures; when he reasons, he must have articulate language. The inflections of the voice are for sensations, gesture is for sentiments; the buccal apparatus is for the expression of ideas. Gesture, then, is the bond of union between inflection and thought. Since gesture, in genealogical order, holds the second rank in human languages, we shall reserve for it that place in the series of our oratorical studies.

We are entering upon a subject full of importance and interest. We purpose to render familiar the heart language, the expression of love.

We learn dead languages and living languages: Greek, Latin, German, English. Is it well to know conventional idioms, and to ignore the language of nature? The body needs education as well as the mind. This is no trivial work. Let it be judged by the steps of the ideal ladder we must scale before reaching the perfection of gesture. Observe the ways of laboring men. Their movements are awkward, the joints do not play. This is the first step.

At a more advanced stage, the shoulders play without the head. The individual turns around with a great impulse from the shoulders, with the leg raised, but the hand and the rest of the body remain inert. Then come the elbows, but without the hand. Later come the wrist-joint and the torso. With this movement of the wrist, the face becomes mobilized, for there is great affinity between these two agents. The face and hand form a most interesting unity. Finally, from the wrist, the articulation passes to the fingers, and here is imitative perfection. If we would speak our language eloquently, we must not be beguiled into any patois of gesture.

Gesture must be studied in order to render it faultlessly elegant, but in such a thorough way as not to seem studied. It has still higher claims to our regard in view of the services it has rendered to humanity. Thanks to this language of the heart, thousands of deaf-mutes are enabled to endure their affliction, and to share our social pleasures. Blessèd be the Abbé de l'Epée, who, by uniting the science of gesture to the conventional signs of dactyology, has made the deaf hear and the dumb speak! This beneficent invention has made gesture in a twofold manner, the language of the heart.

Gesture is an important as well as interesting study. How beautiful it is to see the thousand pieces of the myological apparatus set in motion and propelled by this grand motor feeling! There surely is a joy in knowing how to appreciate an image of Christ on the cross, in understanding the attitudes of Faith, Hope and Charity. We can note a mother's affection by the way she holds her child in her arms. We can judge of the sincerity of the friend who grasps our hand. If he holds the thumb inward and pendant, it is a fatal sign; we no longer trust him. To pray with the thumbs inward and swaying to and fro, indicates a lack of sacred fervor. It is a corpse who prays. If you pray with the arms extended and the fingers bent, there is reason to fear that you adore Plutus. If you embrace me without elevating the shoulders, you are a Judas.

What can you do in a museum, if you have not acquired, if you do not wish to acquire the science of gesture? How can you rightly appreciate the beauty of the statue of Antinous? How can you note a fault in Raphael's picture of Moses making water gush from the rock? How see that he has forgotten to have the Israelites raise their shoulders, as they stand rapt in admiration of the miracle? One versed in the science of gesture, as he passes before the Saint Michael Fountain, must confess that the statue of the archangel with its parallel lines, is little better than the dragon at his feet.

In view of the importance and interest of the language of gesture, we shall study it thoroughly in the second book of our course.

Chapter II.
Definition and Division of Gesture.

Gesture is the direct agent of the heart, the interpreter of speech. It is elliptical discourse. Each part of this definition may be easily justified.

1. Gesture is the Direct Agent of the Heart.--Look at an infant. For some time he manifests his joy or sorrow through cries; but these are not gesture. When he comes to know the cause of his joy or sorrow, sentiment awakens, his heart opens to love or hatred, and he expresses his new emotion not by cries alone, nor yet by speech; he smiles upon his mother, and his first gesture is a smile. Beings endowed only with the sensitive life, have no smile; animals do not laugh.

This marvelous correspondence of the organs with the sentiment arises from the close union of soul and body. The brain ministers to the operations of the soul. Every sentiment must have its echo in the brain, in order to be unerringly transmitted by the organic apparatus.

Ex visu cognoscitur vir. ("The man is known by his face.") The rôle of dissimulation is a very difficult one to sustain.

2. Gesture is the Interpreter of Speech.--Gesture has been given to man to reveal what speech is powerless to express. For example: I love. This phrase says nothing of the nature of the being loved, nothing of the fashion in which one loves. Gesture, by a simple movement, reveals all this, and says it far better than speech, which would know how to render it only by many successive words and phrases. A gesture, then, like a ray of light, can reflect all that passes in the soul.

Hence, if we desire that a thing shall be always remembered, we must not say it in words; we must let it be divined, revealed by gesture. Wherever an ellipse is supposable in a discourse, gesture must intervene to explain this ellipse.

3. Gesture is an Elliptical Language.--We call ellipse a hidden meaning whose revelation belongs to gesture. A gesture must correspond to every ellipse. For example: "This medley of glory and gain vexes me." If we attribute something ignominious or abject to the word medley, there is an ellipse in the phrase, because the ignominy is implied rather than expressed. Gesture is then necessary here to express the value of the implied adjective, ignominious.

Suppress this ellipse, and the gesture must also be suppressed, for gesture is not the accompaniment of speech. It must express the idea better and in another way, else it will be only a pleonasm, an after conception of bad taste, a hindrance rather than an aid to intelligible expression.

Division of Gesture.

Every act, gesture and movement has its rule, its execution and its raison d'être. The imitative is also divided into three parts: the static, the dynamic and the semeiotic. The static is the base, the dynamic is the centre, and the semeiotic the summit. The static is the equiponderation of the powers or agents; it corresponds to life.

The dynamic is the form of movements. The dynamic is melodic, harmonic and rhythmic. Gesture is melodic by its forms or its inflections. To understand gesture one must study melody. There is great affinity between the inflections of the voice and gesture. All the inflections of the voice are common to gesture. The inflections of gesture are oblique for the life, direct for the soul and circular for the mind. These three terms, oblique, direct and circular, correspond to the eccentric, normal and concentric states. The movements of flection are direct, those of rotation, circular, those of abduction, oblique.

Gesture is harmonic through the multiplicity of the agents which act in the same manner. This harmony is founded upon the convergence or opposition of the movements. Thus the perfect accord is the consonance of the three agents,--head, torso and limbs. Dissonance arises from the divergence of one of these agents.

Finally, gesture is rhythmic because its movements are subordinated to a given measure. The dynamic corresponds to the soul.

The semeiotic gives the reason of movements, and has for its object the careful examination of inflections, attitudes and types.

Under our first head, we treat of the static and of gesture in general; under our second, of the dynamic, and of gesture in particular; and finally, under our third head, of the semeiotic, with an exposition of the laws of gesture.

Chapter III.
Origin and Oratorical Value of Gesture.

Origin.

The infant in the cradle has neither speech nor gesture:--he cries. As he gains sensibility his tones grow richer, become inflections, are multiplied and attain the number of three million special and distinct inflections. The young infant manifests neither intelligence nor affection; but he reveals his life by sounds. When he discerns the source of his joys or sufferings, he loves, and gesticulates to repulse or to invite. The gestures, which are few at first, become quite numerous. It is God's art he follows; he is an artist without knowing it.

Oratorical Value of Gesture.

The true aim of art is to move, to interest and to persuade. Emotion, interest and persuasion are the first terms of art. Emotion is expressed by the voice, by sounds; interest, by language; persuasion is the office of gesture.

To inflection belongs emotion through the beautiful; to logic, interest through the truth; to plastic art, persuasion through the good.

Gesture is more than speech. It is not what we say that persuades, but the manner of saying it. The mind can be interested by speech, it must be persuaded by gesture. If the face bears no sign of persuasion, we do not persuade.

Why at first sight does a person awaken our sympathy or antipathy? We do not understand why, but it is by reason of his gestures.

Speech is inferior to gesture, because it corresponds to the phenomena of mind; gesture is the agent of the heart, it is the persuasive agent.

Articulate language is weak because it is successive. It must be enunciated phrase by phrase; by words, syllables, letters, consonants and vowels--and these do not end it. That which demands a volume is uttered by a single gesture. A hundred pages do not say what a simple movement may express, because this simple movement expresses our whole being. Gesture is the direct agent of the soul, while language is analytic and successive. The leading quality of mind is number; it is to speculate, to reckon, while gesture grasps everything by intuition,--sentiment as well as contemplation. There is something marvelous in this language, because it has relations with another sphere; it is the world of grace.

An audience must not be supposed to resemble an individual. A man of the greatest intelligence finding himself in an audience, is no longer himself. An audience is never intelligent; it is a multiple being, composed of sense and sentiment. The greater the numbers, the less intelligence has to do. To seek to act upon an individual by gesture would be absurd. The reverse is true with an audience; it is persuaded not by reasoning, but by gesture.

There is here a current none can control. We applaud disagreeable things in spite of ourselves--things we should condemn, were they said to us in private. The audience is not composed of intellectual people, but of people with senses and hearts. As sentiment is the highest thing in art, it should be applied to gesture.

If the gestures are good, the most wretched speaking is tolerated. So much the better if the speaking is good, but gesture is the all-important thing. Gesture is superior to each of the other languages, because it embraces the constituent parts of our being. Gesture includes everything within us. Sound is the gesture of the vocal apparatus. The consonants and vowels are the gesture of the buccal apparatus, and gesture, properly so called, is the product of the myological apparatus.

It is not ideas that move the masses; it is gestures.

We easily reach the heart and soul through the senses. Music acts especially on the senses. It purifies them, it gives intelligence to the hand, it disposes the heart to prayer. The three languages may each move, interest and persuade.

Language is a sort of music which moves us through vocal expression; it is besides normal through the gesture of articulation. No language is exclusive. All interpenetrate and communicate their action. The action of music is general.

The mind and the life are active only for the satisfaction of the heart; then, since the heart controls all our actions, gesture must control all other languages.

Gesture is magnetic, speech is not so. Through gesture we subdue the most ferocious animals.

The ancients were not ignorant of this all-powerful empire of gesture over an audience. Therefore, sometimes to paralyze, sometimes to augment this magic power, orators were obliged to cover their faces with a mask, when about to speak in public. The judges of the Areopagus well knew the power of gesture, and to avoid its seductions, they adopted the resource of hearing pleas only in the darkness.

The sign of the cross made at the opening of a sermon often has great effect upon good Catholics. Let a priest with his eyes concentric and introspective make deliberately the sign of the cross while solemnly uttering these words: "In-the-name-of-the-Father;" then let his glance sweep the audience. What do they think of him? This is no longer an ordinary man; he seems clothed with the majesty of God, whose orders he has just received, and in whose name he brings them. This idea gives him strength and assurance, and his audience respect and docility.

Chapter IV.
The Laws of Gesture.

The static treats of the laws of gesture which are six in number, viz.: Priority, retroaction, the opposition of agents, unity, stability and rhythm.

The Priority of Gesture to Speech.

Gesture must always precede speech. In fact, speech is reflected expression. It must come after gesture, which is parallel with the impression received. Nature incites a movement, speech names this movement. Speech is only the title, the label of what gesture has anticipated. Speech comes only to confirm what the audience already comprehend. Speech is given for naming things. Gesture asks the question, "What?" and speech answers. Gesture after the answer would be absurd. Let the word come after the gesture and there will be no pleonasm.

Priority of gesture may be thus explained: First a movement responds to the sensation; then a gesture, which depicts the emotion, responds to the imagination which colors the sensation. Then comes the judgment which approves. Finally, we consider the audience, and this view of the audience suggests the appropriate expression for that which has already been expressed by gesture.

The basis of this art is to make the auditors divine what we would have them feel.

Every speaker may choose his own stand-point, but the essential law is to anticipate, to justify speech by gesture. Speech is the verifier of the fact expressed. The thing may be expressed before announcing its name. Sometimes we let the auditors divine rather than anticipate, gazing at them in order to rivet their attention. Eloquence is composed of many things which are not named, but must be named by slight gestures. In this eloquence consists. Thus a smack of the tongue, a blow upon the hand, an utterance of the vowel u as if one would remove a stain from his coat. The writer cannot do all this. The mere rendition of the written discourse is nothing for the orator; his talent consists in taking advantage of a great number of little nameless sounds.

A written discourse must contain forced epithets and adjectives to illustrate the subject. In a spoken discourse a great number of adjectives are worse than useless. Gesture and inflection of the voice supply their place. The sense is not in the words; it is in inflection and gesture.

Retroaction.

We have formulated this general law: The eccentric, normal and concentric expression must correspond to the sensitive, moral and intellectual state of man. When gesture is concerned, the law is thus modified: In the sensitive state, the gesture, which is naturally eccentric, may become concentric, as the orator is passive or active.

He is passive when subject to any action whatever, when he depicts an emotion.

He is agent when he communicates to the audience the expression of his own will or power; in a word, at all times when he controls his audience.

When the orator assumes the passive rôle, that is, when he reflects, he gazes upon his audience; he makes a backward (or concentric) movement; when he assumes the active rôle, he makes a forward (or eccentric) movement. When one speaks to others, he advances; when one speaks to himself, he recoils a step, his thought centres upon himself.

In the passive state, one loves. But when he loves, he does not move forward. A being who feels, draws back, and contemplates the object toward which the hand extends. Contemplation makes the body retroact.

Hence in the passive state, the orator must step backward. In the opposite state he moves forward. Let us apply this law: A spendthrift officer meets his landlord, whom he has not yet paid, and greets him with an--"Ah, good day, sir!" What will be his movement? It must be retroactive. In the joy of seeing a friend again, as also in fright, we start back from the object loved or hated. Such is the law of nature, and it cannot be ignored.

Whence comes this law? To behold a loved object fully, we must step back, remove to some little distance from it. Look at a painter admiring his work. It is retroaction at sight of a beloved person, which has led to the discovery of the phenomena of life, to this triple state of man which is found in like manner, everywhere: Concentric, eccentric, and normal.

The concentric is the passive state, for when one experiences a deep emotion, he must retroact. Hence a demonstration of affection is not made with a forward movement. If so, there is no love. Expiration is the sign of him who gives his heart. Hence there is joy and love. In inspiration there is retroaction, and, in some sort, distrust. The hand extends toward the beloved object; if the hand tend toward itself, a love of self is indicated. Love is expressed by a retroactive, never by a forward movement. In portraying this sentiment the hand must not be carried to the heart. This is nonsense; it is an oratorical crime. The hand must tend toward the loved being to caress, to grasp, to reassure or to defend. The hand is carried to the heart only in case of suffering there.

Take this passage from Racine's Phèdre:

Dieu--que ne puis-je à l'ombre des fôrets,
Suivre de l'oeil un char fuyant dans la carrière--

("God--may I not, through the dim forest shades,
With my glance follow a fleet chariot's course.")

Here the actor does not follow affectionately, but with the eye, and then by recoiling and concentrating his thought upon himself.

In the role of Emilie:

"He may in falling crush thee 'neath his fall"

at sight of her crushed lover Emilie must recoil in terror, and not seem to add the weight of her body to that which crushes the victim.

Augustus, on the contrary, may say:

"I might in falling crush thee 'neath my fall,"

pausing upon a forward movement, because he is here the agent.

Let us note in passing that the passive attitude is the type of energetic natures. They have something in themselves which suffices them. This is a sort of repose; it is elasticity.

Opposition of Agents.

The opposition of the agents is the harmony of gesture. Harmony is born of contrasts. From opposition, equilibrium is born in turn. Equilibrium is the great law of gesture, and condemns parallelism; and these are the laws of equilibrium:

1. The forward inclination of the torso corresponds to the movement of the leg in the opposite direction.

2. When one arm is added to the weight of the already inclined torso, the other arm must rise to form a counterpoise.

3. In gazing into a well, the two arms must be drawn backward if the body is equally supported by the two legs; in like manner the two arms may be carried in front if the torso bends backward. This is allowable only in the first attitude of the base, or in a similar attitude.

The harmonic law of gesture is the static law par excellence.

It is of childlike simplicity. We employ it in walking; also when we carry a weight in one hand, the other rises. The law consists in placing the acting levers in opposition, and thus realizing equilibrium. All that is in equilibrium is harmonized. All ancient art is based upon this opposition of levers. Modern art, with but few exceptions, is quite the contrary.

Here is an example of the observance of this rule: If the head and arms are in action, the head must move in opposition to the arms and the hand. If both move in the same direction, there is a defect in equilibrium, and awkwardness results.

When the arm rises to the head, the head bends forward and meets it half-way. The reverse is true. Every movement in the hand has its responsive movement in the head. If the head advances, the hand withdraws. The movements must balance, so that the body may be in equilibrium and remain balanced.

Here is the difference between ancient and modern art. Let us suppose a statue of Corneille reading his works. To-day we should pose it with one leg and arm advanced. This is parallelism. Formerly the leg would have been opposed to this movement of the arm, because there should be here the expansion of the author toward his work, and this expansion results precisely from an opposition of levers.

We know the ancient gladiator; we do exactly the opposite from him in fencing.

Modern art makes the man walk with leg and arm parallel. Ancient art would have the leg opposed to the arm.

It is through opposition that the smile expresses moral sadness. This law of opposition must be observed in the same member. For example, the hand should be opposed to the arm. Thus we have magnificent spheroidal movements which are graceful and also have considerable force. Thus all the harmonies occur in one same whole, in one same truth. In a word, all truths interpenetrate, and when a thing is true from one point of view, it is so from all.

Number of Gestures.

Many reasons go to prove that gestures need not be multiplied:

A.--We are moved by only one sentiment at a time; hence it is useless to multiply gestures.

B.--But one gesture is needed for the expression of an entire thought; since it is not the word but the thought that the gesture must announce; if it expressed only the word, it would be trivial and mean, and also prejudicial to the effect of the phrase.

In these phrases: "What do you seek in the world, happiness? It is not there," that which first strikes us is the absence of happiness. Gesture must indicate it in advance, and this should be the dominating movement.

The intelligent man makes few gestures. To multiply gestures indicates a lack of intelligence. The face is the thermometer of intelligence. Let as much expression as possible be given to the face. A gesture made by the hand is wrong when not justified in advance by the face. Intelligence is manifested by the face. When the intelligent man speaks, he employs great movements only when they are justified by great exaltation of sentiment; and, furthermore, these sentiments should be stamped upon his face. Without expression of the face, all gestures resemble telegraphic movements.

C.--The repeated extension of the arms denotes but little intelligence, little suppleness in the wrist and fingers. The movement of a single finger indicates great finesse.

It is easy to distinguish the man of head, heart and actions. The first makes many gestures of the head; the second many of the shoulders; the last moves the arms often and inappropriately.

D.--Gesture is allowable only when an ellipse of the word or phrase admits of an additional value.

E.--Effects must not be multiplied; this is an essential precaution. Multiplied movements are detrimental when a graver movement is awaited.

F.--The orator is free to choose between the rôle of actor or that of mere spectator or narrator. Neither the one nor the other can be forced upon him. The actor's rôle arises not from intelligence but simply from instinct. The actor identifies himself with the personages he represents. He renders all their sentiments. This rôle is the most powerful, but, before making it the object of his choice, there must be severe study; he must not run the risk of frivolity.

We can dictate to the preacher and mark out his path. He must not be an actor, but a doctor. Hence his gestures must never represent the impressions of those of whom he speaks, but his own. Hence he should proportion the number of his gestures to the number of his sentiments.

G.--If the orator would speak to any purpose, he must bring back his discourse to some picture from nature, some scene from real life.

There must be unity in everything; but a rôle may be condensed in two or three traits; therefore a great number of gestures is not necessary.

Let it be carefully noted: the expression of the face should make the gesture of the arms forgotten. Here the talent of the orator shines forth. He must captivate his public in such a way that his arm gestures will be ignored. He must so fascinate his auditors that they cannot ask the reason of this fascination, nor remark that he gesticulates at all.

H.--Where there are two gestures in the same idea, one of them must come before the proposition, the other in its midst.

If there is but one gesture and it precedes the proposition, the term to which it is applied must be precisely indicated.

For example: Would he be sensible to friendship? Although friendship may in some degree be qualified as the indirect regimen, gesture should portray it in all its attributes.

Duration of Gesture.

The suspension or prolongation of a movement is one of the great sources of effect. It is in suspension that force and interest consist. A good thing is worth being kept in sight long enough to allow an enjoyment of the view.

The orator should rest upon the preceding gesture until a change is absolutely required.

A preoccupied man greets you with a smile, and after you have left, he smiles on, until something else occurs to divert his mind.

The orator's abstraction should change the face, but not the gesture. If the double change takes place simultaneously, there will be no unity. The gesture should be retained and the expression of the face changed.

A variety of effects and inflections should be avoided. While the speaker is under the influence of the same sentiment, the same inflection and gesture must be retained, so that there may be unity of style.

Art proposes three things: to move, to interest, to persuade by unity of inflection and gesture. One effect must not destroy another. Divergence confuses the audience, and leaves no time for sentiment.

It is well to remember that the stone becomes hollowed by the incessant fall of the drop of water in the same place.

The Rhythm of Gesture.

Gesture is at the same time melodic, or rather inflective, harmonic and rhythmic. It must embrace the elements of music, since it corresponds to the soul; it is the language of the soul, and the soul necessarily includes the life with its diverse methods of expression, and the mind. Gesture is melodic or inflective through the richness of its forms, harmonic through the multiplicity of parts that unite simultaneously to produce it. Gesture is rhythmic through its movement, more or less slow, or more or less rapid.

Gesture is, then, inevitably synthetic, and consequently harmonic; for harmony is but another name for synthesis.

Each of the inflective, harmonic and rhythmic modes has its peculiar law.

The rhythmic law of gesture is thus formulated:

"The rhythm of gesture is proportional to the mass to be moved."

The more an organ is restrained, the more vehement is its impulse.

This law is based upon the vibration of the pendulum. Great levers have slow movements, small agents more rapid ones. The head moves more rapidly when the torso and the eye have great facility of motion. Thus the titillations of the eye are rapid as lightning.

This titillation always announces an emotion. Surprise is feigned if there is no titillation.

For example, at the unexpected visit of a friend there is a lighting up of the eye. Wherefore? Because the image is active in the imagination. This is an image which passes within ourselves, which lies in inward phenomena.

So in relation to material phenomena: there is a convergence, a direction of the eyes toward the object; if the object changes place, the eyes cannot modify their manner of convergence; they must close to find a new direction, a convergence suited to the distance of the object.

There is never sympathetic vision. The phenomena of the imagination are in the imagination at a fixed distance. When an image changes place in the idea, it produces a titillation equal to that which would be produced in the order of material things. For example, let us quote these lines:

"At last I have him in my power,
This fatal foe, this haughty conqueror!
Through him my captives leave their slavery."

Here the body must be calm; there is a sort of vehemence in the eyes; it will be less in the head than in the arms. All these movements are made, but the body remains firm. Generally the reverse takes place; the whole body is moved; but this is wrong.

In these words: "Where are they, these wretches?" there must be great violence in the upper part of the body, but the step is very calm.

To affect a violent gait is an awkward habit. A modified slowness in the small agents creates emphasis; if we give them too great facility of movement, the gestures become mean and wretched.

Rhythm is in marvelous accord with nature under the impulse of God.

Importance of the Laws of Gesture.

We never really understand an author's meaning. Every one is free to interpret him according to his individual instinct. But we must know how to justify his interpretation by gesture. Principles must aid us in choosing a point of view in accordance with his individual nature; otherwise incoherence is inevitable. Hence rules are indispensable. But when the law is known, each applies it in accordance with his own idea.

The author himself cannot read without rules, in such a manner as to convey the ideas he intended to express. Only through rules can we become free in our interpretation; we are not free without law, for in this case we are subject to the caprice of some master.

The student of oratory should not be a servile copyist. In the arrangement of his effects, he must copy, imitate and compose. Let him first reproduce a fixed model, the lesson of the master. This is to copy. Let him then reproduce the lesson in the absence of the master. This is to imitate. Finally, let him reproduce a fugitive model. This is to compose.

Thus to reproduce a lesson, to give its analysis and synthesis, is to disjoint, to unite and to reunite; this is the progressive order of work.

The copying and imitative exercises should be followed by compositions, applying the principles already known. The orator may be allowed play for his peculiar genius; he may be sublime even in employing some foolish trick of his art. But whatever he does, he must be guided by fixed rules.

Chapter V.
Of Gesture in Particular.

The Head.

The dynamic apparatus is composed of the head, the torso and the limbs. As in the vocal apparatus, we have the lever, the impelling force, and the fulcrum.

The dynamic apparatus produces gesture, which renders the moral or normal state; as the voice expresses inflection and reveals the sensitive state.

The head must be studied under two relations: as the agent of expression through its movements, and as the centre of attraction; that is, the point of departure or arrival for the different gestures of the arm.

Let us now apply ourselves to the signification of the movements of the head and eyes, the face and lips.

The Movements of the Head.

There are two sorts of movements of the head: movements of attitude and fugitive movements.

Movements of Attitude.--The head has nine primary attitudes, from which many others proceed.

In the normal attitude, the head is neither high nor low.

In the concentric attitude the head is lowered; this is the reflective state.

In the eccentric attitude the head is elevated; this is the vital state.

Soldiers and men of robust physique carry the head high.

Here are three genera, each of which gives three species.

The Normal State.

When the head is erect, it is passive and neutral.

The head inclining laterally toward the interlocutor indicates affection.

If in the inverse direction, opposite the interlocutor, sensualism is indicated. This is in fact retroaction; in the first case we love the soul, in the latter the form.

The Eccentric State.

If the head bends backward it is the passional or vehement state.

The head inclined toward the interlocutor, denotes abandon, confidence.

The head turned away from the interlocutor, denotes pride, noble or base. This is a neutral expression which says something, but not the whole.

The Concentric State.

The head lowered, that is, inclined forward, denotes the reflective state.

If the head inclines toward the interlocutor, it is veneration, an act of faith in the object we love.

If the head inclines away from the interlocutor, it is stratagem or suspicion.

All other attitudes of the head are modifications of these. These nine attitudes characterize states, that is, sentiments, but sentiments which are fugitive. Either of these attitudes may be affected until it becomes habitual. But there are movements which cannot be habitually affected, which can only modify types and attitudes of the inflections of the head. These are fugitive movements.

There are nine inflections or fugitive movements of the head:--

If a forward movement, it ends in an upright one, with elevated chin, and indicates interrogation, hope, appellation, desire.
The same movement with the chin lowered, indicates doubt, resignation.
A nod of the head, a forward movement, means confirmation, yes, or well.
If the movement is brusque forward, it is the menace of a resolute man.
The head thrown back means exaltation.
If the movement is brusque backward, it is the menace of a weak man.
There are rotative inflections from one shoulder to the other; this is impatience, regret.
The rotary movement of the head alone signifies negation, that is no.
If the movement ends toward the interlocutor, it is simple negation.
If the movement ends opposite to him, it is negation with distrust.
The rotative and forward inflection would denote exaltation.

The sense of this response,--"I do not know," when tidings of a friend are asked, may be divined by an inflection of the head.

It is well to note how these movements are transmitted from agent to agent.

All movements which severally affect the head, the hand, the body and the leg, may affect the whole.

Thus the movement of negation is made by the hand. This movement is double. There is negation with direct resolution, and negation with inverse resolution, which is elliptical. The hand recoils as the head recoils, and when the head makes the movement of impatience, the hand rises with the head and says:--"Leave me alone, I do not wish to hear you."

It is curious to see an inflection pass successively from the head to the hand, from the hand to the eye, from the eye to the shoulders, from the shoulders to the arms, from the arms to the legs, from the legs to the feet.

For example: Above we have indicated a double menace made by the head. One might transfer this menace to the hand and say: "You will have a quarrel to settle with me!"

Each agent has its rôle, and this is why they transmit their movements.

When the head has a serious part to play, it communicates an inflective movement to the hand, which renders it terrible.

A man who menaces with the head is not sure of his aim, but he who menaces with the hand is sure of striking right. In order to do this, the eye must be firmly fixed, as the eye necessarily loses its power and accuracy by a movement of the head.

There is great power in the menace communicated to the hand, a power not found in the other movement. The head-menace is more physical, and the hand-menace more intellectual; in the one the eye says a great deal, while in the other it says nothing.

The orator cannot always make these gestures with facility. The menace may be elliptical. Then it must be made by the head, and expressed through the eyes. This is why the speaker gazes downward as he makes it.

It is the same downward or upward movement which is reproduced when the menace is concentric or elliptical.

The menace may be made in yet another way. The speaker does not wish to express his opinion, and for fear of compromising himself with his eyes, he does not gaze at his interlocutor; he turns aside his glance, and the menace is communicated to the shoulder. This has less strength, because it is rendered by one of the sensitive agents.

The man who threatens with the shoulder is more passionate; but he is not the agent, he is passive.

A simple menace may be made by the knee. The foot is susceptible of great mobility. A slight movement quickly changes its significance; in passing from one agent to another, it is modified by many ellipses.

[Criterion of the Head Attitudes.]

These attitudes, being wholly characteristic, cannot be transmitted. They characterize the special rôle of the agent set in motion, while inflection is universal.

The head alone expresses trouble, dejection.

Dejection is in the head, as firmness is in the reins and exaltation in the shoulders.

All the movements of the head are communicated to all the active organs. The head is always in opposition to the arms. The head must be turned away from the leg which is advanced.

Men of small brain habitually carry their heads high. The head is lowered in proportion to the quantity of intelligence.

Examine the criterion for the fixed attitudes of the head.

Of the Eyes.

The eye, in common with all the other agents, has nine primary expressions, three genera and nine species.

The eye contains three agents: The optic or visual, the palpebral or pupil, and the eyebrow agent. Each of these has its peculiar sense, and we shall show how they are united.

The optic agent has three direct or convergent glances. The eyes converge toward the object they examine, at such a point that if the object were there they would squint. A skilled observer can determine the distance of the object, upon seeing the two eyes.

There is a revolving or divergent glance. If both eyes project in parallel lines, they see double. A drunken man sees double because the eyes do not converge.

Between these two glances there is the ecstatic or parallel vision; but the object is not so far away that its distance may not be determined. The convergence is not appreciable. This is the dreamy expression. We shall here treat of one only, to which we refer the three others. Let us take the direct glance, passing by the optic agent, since it is direct in all the phenomena we have to consider.

There are three phenomena in the eyebrow: eccentric, concentric and normal. From these we derive nine terms. If the eye is normal, it is a passive expression which determines nothing. If, with the same eye, the eyebrow is eccentric, there is a difference; one part of us tends vehemently toward something, and the other says: "It is not worth the trouble." The sensitive part aspires, while the intellect says, "This amounts to nothing."

The concentric eyebrow indicates a mind disconcerted by fatigue or ennui, a contention of one part of the nature with the other, which resists, and says: "I do not wish to be troubled about this; it wearies me."

The normal brow and the eccentric eye indicate stupor.

Here there is again contrariety. One part of the being ardently aspires toward some object, while the other is powerless to aid it.

The eye is purely an intellectual agent, denoting the various states of the mind.

The eccentric eye and the elevated eyebrow denote vehemence. This is an active state that will become astonishment. Many phenomena will arise and be subordinate to this movement; but it is vehemence par excellence; it is aspiration.

If the brow lowers vehemently with the eyes open, it is not rage, but a state of mind independent of everything the senses or the heart can say.

This is firmness of mind, a state of the will independent of every outside influence. It may be attention, or anger, or many other things.

If the eye is concentric and the eyebrow in the normal state, it is slumber, fatigue.

If the eyebrow is eccentric and the eye concentric, it will represent not indifference only, but scorn, and after saying, "This thing is worthless," will add, "I protest against it, I close my eyes."

If both the eye and eyebrow are concentric, there is contention of mind. This is a mind which seeks but does not possess.

This explanation may be rendered more clear and easier to retain in mind by the following resumé:

Concentric eyebrow	Eye.	{	Concentric.	Contention of mind.
			Normal.	Bad humor.
			Eccentric.	Firmness
Normal eyebrow	Eye.	{	Concentric.	Grief.
			Normal.	Passiveness.
			Eccentric.	Stupor.
Eccentric eyebrow	Eye.	{	Concentric.	Scorn.
			Normal.	Disdain.
			Eccentric.	Astonishment.

[Criterion of the Eyes]

The nine expressions of the eye correspond to each of the nine movements of the head. Thus the eye may give nine types of affection, nine of pride, nine of sensualism, etc. This gives eighty-one expressions of the eye. Hence, knowing eighteen elements, we inevitably possess eighty-one.

The nine expressions of the eye may be verified by the criterion.

As a model, we give the nine expressions of the eye in the subjoined chart.

[Nine expressions of the eye]

For ordinary purposes it is sufficient to understand the nine primary expressions. There are many others which we merely indicate. In sleep there may be an inclination either way. The top of the eyebrow may be lifted.

Thus in the concentric state, three types may be noted, and these go to make twenty-seven primary movements. The lower eyelid may be contracted; the twenty-seven first movements may be examined with this, which makes 2×27.

A movement of the cheek may contract the eye in an opposite direction, and this contraction may be total, which makes eighty-one expressions belonging to the normal glance alone.

This direct glance may also be direct on the inferior plane, which makes 2×81; for these are distinct expressions which cannot be confounded.

This movement could again be an upward one, which would make 3×81.

The movement may be outward and superior, or it may be simply outward; it may also be outward and inferior. A special sense is attached to each of these movements,--a sense which cannot be confounded with any of the preceding movements.

By making the same computation for the three glances above noted, we shall have from eight to nine hundred movements.

All this may appear complicated, but with the key of the primary movements, nothing can be more simple than this deduction.

The above chart with its exposition of the phases of the eye explains everything. A small eye is a sign of strength; a large eye is a sign of languor. A small oblique eye (the Chinese eye), when associated with lateral development of the cranium, and ears drawn back, indicates a predisposition to murder.

The eye opens only in the first emotion; then it becomes calm, closing gradually; an eye wide open in emotion, denotes stupidity.

Of the Eyebrows.

There are three thermometers: the eyebrow is the thermometer of the mind; the shoulder is the thermometer of the life; the thumb is the thermometer of the will.

There is parallelism between the eye and the voice. The voice lowered and the brow lifted, indicate a desire to create surprise, and a lack of mental depth.

It is very important to establish this parallelism between the movements of the brow and voice.

The lowered brow signifies retention, repulsion: It is the signification of a closed door. The elevated brow means the open door. The mind opens to let in the light or to allow it to escape. The eyebrow is nothing less than the door of intelligence. In falling, the voice repels. The efforts in repulsion and retention are equal.

The inflections are in accord with the eyebrows. When the brows are raised, the voice is raised. This is the normal movement of the voice in relation to the eyebrow.

Sometimes the eyebrow is in contradiction to the movement of the voice. Then there is always ellipse; it is a thought unexpressed. The contradiction between these two agents always proves that we must seek in the words which these phenomena modify, something other than they seem to say. For instance, when we reply to a story just told us, with this exclamation: "Indeed!"

If the brow and voice are lowered, the case is grave and demands much consideration.

If brow and voice are elevated, the expression is usually mild, amiable and affectionate.

If the voice is raised and the brow lowered, the form is doubtful and suspicious. With the brow concentric, the hand is repellent.

Both brow and hand concentric denote repulsion or retention; this is always the case with a door.

Both brow and hand eccentric mean inspiration, or allowing departure without concern.

There is homogeneity between the face, the eyebrow and the hand.

The degree and nature of the emotion must be shown in the face, otherwise there will be only grimace.

The hand is simply another expression of the face. The face gives the hand its significance. Hand movements without facial expression would be purely automatic. The face has the first word, the hand completes the sense. There are eighty-one movements of the hand impossible to the face; hence, without the hand, the face cannot express everything. The hand is the detailed explanation of what the face has sought to say.

There are expressions of the hand consonant with the facial traits, and others dissonant: this is the beautiful.

The weak hand and the strong face are the sign of impotence.

The weak hand and the strong face are the sign of perfidy.

The tones of the voice vary according to the expression of the face. The face must speak, it must have charm.

In laughing, the face is eccentric; a sombre face is concentric.

The face is the mirror of the soul because it is the most impressionable agent, and consequently the most faithful in rendering the impressions of the soul.

Not only may momentary emotions be read in the expression of the features, but by an inspection of the conformation of the face, the aptitude, thoughts, character and individual temperament may be determined.

The difference in faces comes from difference in the configuration of profiles.

There are three primitive and characteristic profiles, of which all others are only derivations or shades. There is the upright, the concave and the convex profile. Each of these genera must produce three species, and this gives again the accord of nine.

These different species arise from the direction of the angles, as also from the position of the lips and nose.

Uprightness responds to the perpendicular profile; chastity, to the concave; sensualism, to the convex.

Let it be understood that we derogate in no way from the liberty of the man who remains always master of his will, his emotions and his inclinations.

A criterion of the face is indispensable to the intelligent physiognomist, and as the lips and nose have much to do with the expression of the face, we offer an unerring diagnosis in the three following charts:

[Criterion of the Profile of the Lips.]

Here the profile of the lower lip indicates the genus, and the profile of the upper lip belongs to the species.

[Criterion of the Profile of the Nose.]

For surety of diagnosis the lips must be taken in unison with the nose and forehead, as may be seen in the following chart.

Chapter VI.
Of the Torso.

The torso includes the chest, and shares the shoulder movements with the arms.

The Chest.--There are three chest attitudes, eccentric, concentric and normal.

1. If the chest is greatly dilated, this is the eccentric state--the military attitude, the sign of energy.

2. The normal, when the chest is in a state more homogeneous, less contentious, more sympathetic, as in the statue of Antinous.

3. The concentric, when the chest is hollow, with the shoulders elevated and inclining forward.

The convex eccentric chest is the sign of the agent, or of him who gives.

The convex concentric chest or the pathetic, is the sign of the sufferer, or of him who receives.

The chest drawn in with the shoulders elevated, is the expression of the sublime.

From these three positions, the eccentric, the concentric and the normal, are derived nine degrees or species. Thus in each of these genera, the torso is inclined toward the speaker, or away from him, hence we have three times three, or nine, or the triple accord.

[Criterion of the Face.]

The chest need not be lowered; it is here that all the energy concentrates.

The Shoulders.--Every sensitive, agreeable or painful form is expressed by an elevation of the shoulders. The shoulders are the thermometer of the sensitive and passional life. If a man's shoulders are raised very decidedly, we may know that he is decidedly impressed.

The head tells us whether this impression is joyous or sorrowful. Then the species belongs to the head, and the genus to the shoulder.

If the shoulder indicates thirty degrees, the head must say whether it is warmth or coldness. The face will specify the nature of the sorrow or joy whose value the shoulders have determined.

The shoulder is one of the great powers of the orator.

By a simple movement of the shoulder, he can make infinitely more impression than with all the outward gestures which are almost always theatrical, and not of a convincing sort.

The shoulder, we have said, is the thermometer of emotion and of love. The movement is neutral and suited to joy as well as to sorrow; the eyes and mouth are present to specify it.

The shoulder, like all the agents, has three and hence nine distinct phases.

The torso is divided into three parts: the thoracic, the epigastric and abdominal.

We shall state farther on, the rôle of these three important centres.

Liars do not elevate their shoulders to the required degree, hence the truth or falsity of a sentiment may be known.

Raphael has forgotten this principle in his "Moses Smiting the Rock." None of his figures, although joyous, elevate the shoulder.

Chapter VII.
Of The Limbs.

The limbs hold an important place in oratorical action.

The study of the role of the arms and limbs therefore deserves serious attention.

The Arms.

In the arms we distinguish the deltoid or shoulder movement, the inflection of the fore-arm, the elbow, the wrist, the hand and the fingers.

Inflections of the Fore-Arm.

We have treated of what concerns the shoulder in the chapter upon the torso.

The arm has three movements: an upward and downward vertical movement, and a horizontal one.

These movements derive their significance from the different angles formed by the fore-arm in relation to the arm. Let us first represent these different angles, and then we will explain the chart.

[Angles formed by the fore-arm.]

All these different angles have their meaning, their absolute significance in affirmation.

The movement at the right angle signifies: To be.

Lower: Perhaps.

Lower still: I doubt if it is so.

Lower: It is improbable.

Lower: It is not.

Lower: It is not possible.

Ascending: This is proven, I have the proof in my hand.

Higher: This is superlatively beautiful.

Higher: It is enchantingly beautiful.

The degree of certainty in the affirmation varies with, the angle which the fore-arm forms with the arm.

All these modes of affirmation may be applied to negation. For example:

"It is impossible that this should not be. This cannot be."

Thus all states of being, all forms of affirmation, belong to the acuteness or opening of an angle.

The hanging arm signifies depression. The two arms should never extend the same way. If they follow each other, one should be more advanced than the other. Never allow parallelism. The elementary gestures of the arms are represented in the foregoing chart.

Of the Elbow.

The elbow has nine movements, three primitive, as genera, and nine derivative, as species. There are the forward and backward movements of the normal state. There are three degrees of height, and finally the forward and backward movements of extension.

The elbow movements are relational. The epicondyle is called the eye of the arm.

Man slightly moves the torso, then the shoulder, and finally the elbow.

Among persons who would fain crush others, there is an elbow movement which seems to say, "I annihilate thee, I am above thee."

The elbow turned outward signifies strength, power, audacity, domination, arrogance, abruptness, activity, abundance. The elbow drawn inward, signifies impotence, fear, subordination, humility, passiveness, poverty of spirit.

Modest people have a slight outward movement of the elbow. The humble make an inward movement. The elbow thrust forward or backward, indicates a yielding character.

These movements should not be taken alone; they must be verified by the torso and the head. The shoulder characterizes the expression of the elbow movements, just as the elbow verifies marked exaltation, by the elevation of the shoulder.

It is by these little things that we determine millions of movements and their meaning. We finally determine and class precisely five million movements of the different agents of the arm. This would seem enormous; but it is nothing at all; it is childlike simplicity. The elements being known, the process is always the same. Hence the advantage of possessing a criterion. With this criterion, we have everything. If we possess nine, we possess twenty millions, which are no more than nine.

Of the Wrist.

The wrist is a directing instrument for the forearm and the hand.

The wrist has its three movements.

It is eccentric when the extensor muscles are in motion.

It is normal in the horizontal position.

It is concentric when the flexor muscles are in action.

In the concentric position the wrist is in pronation, for the thumb is turned downward; this is the sign of a powerful will, because the pronator muscles have more power than the flexors.

In the eccentric position the wrist is in supination; that is, the back of the hand is downward; this is the sign of impotence.

The wrist has also forward and backward movements, either in pronation, in supination, or the normal state. Thus there are nine phases for the wrist.

It is through the aid of the wrist that the aspects of the hand, placed upon the cube, receive, as we shall see, their precise signification.

The orator needs great suppleness in wrist movements to give grace to the phases of the hand.

Of the Hand.

Man is perforce painter, poet, inspired dreamer or mystic, and scientist.

He is a painter, to reveal the phenomena of the sensitive life; a poet, to admire the mysteries of grace; a scientist, to make known the conceptions of the mind. Thus the hand has three presentations, neither more nor less, to render that which passes in man in the sensitive, moral or intellectual state.

Let us now examine the three presentations of an open hand: its palmar, dorsal and digital aspect.

The same thing may be expressed by these three presentations, but with shades of difference in the meaning.

If we say that a thing is admirable, with the palms upward, it is to describe it perfectly. This is the demonstrative aspect.

If we say the same thing, displaying the back of the hand, it is with the sentiment of impotence. We have an idea of the thing, but it is so beautiful we cannot express it. This is the mystic aspect.

If we present the digital extremity, it is as if we said: "I have seen, I have weighed, I have numbered the thing, I understand it from certain knowledge; it is admirable, and I declare it so." These are the three aspects: the palmar, dorsal and digital.

Each of these attitudes of the hand may be presented under three forms: the eccentric, normal and concentric.

Each of these forms as genera, produces three species; this gives the hand nine intrinsic attitudes, whose neutral signification will be specified and determined by the presentation of the hand upon the cube.

Let us first take the normal state as genus, and we shall have the normal hand as species in the normal genus. This will then be the normo-normal attitude.

By presenting the hand in pronation or supination horizontally, without spreading or folding the fingers, we shall have that attitude which signifies abandon.

Let us now take the eccentric species, still in the normal genus.

Raise the hand somewhat with a slight parting of the fingers, and we have the eccentro-normal hand, which signifies expansion.

Finally, let us consider the concentric species, still in the normal state.

Present the hand lifeless and you have the concentro-normal attitude, which signifies prostration.

Let us pass on to the concentric genus.

By closing the fingers with the thumb inward upon the middle one, we shall have the normo-concentric hand, which signifies the tonic or power.

To close the hand and place the thumb outside upon the index finger, signifies conflict. This is the concentro-concentric hand.

To bend the first joint with the fingers somewhat apart, indicates the eccentro-concentric hand. This is the convulsive state.

Let us pass on to the eccentric genus.

The fingers somewhat spread, denote the normo-eccentric hand. This is exaltation.

To spread the fingers and fold them to the second joint, indicates the concentro-concentric hand. This is retraction.

To spread the fingers as much as possible, gives the eccentro-eccentric hand. This is exasperation.

In the subjoined charts we can see an illustration of the different attitudes of the hand.

[Criterion of the Hand.]

Recapitulation.
II	{	2	{	Concentro-concentric.	Conflict.
		3		Normo-concentric.	Tonic or power.
		1		Eccentro-concentric.	Convulsive.
III		2	{	Concentro-normal.	Prostration.
		3		Normo-normal.	Abandon.
		1		Eccentro-normal.	Expansion.
I		2	{	Concentro-eccentric	Retraction.
		3		Normo-eccentric.	Exaltation.
		1		Eccentro-ececntric.	Exasperation.

The nine primitive forms of the hand are, as is seen, undetermined.

[The nine primitive forms of the hand]

The hand is raised. Why? For what purpose? The presentation of the hand upon the surfaces of the cube will decide and specify.

By this presentation the nine movements of the hand correspond with the expressive movements of the arm.

Take any cube whatever,--a book, a snuff-box, or rather cast your eyes upon the foregoing chart, and examine it carefully.

There are three directions in the cube: horizontal, vertical and transverse. Hence there are six faces, anterior, superior, inferior, interno-lateral and externo-lateral.

Of what use are angles and faces? All this is necessary for those who would know the reason of the sentiments expressed by the hand. There are twenty-seven sorts of affirmation. We give nine of them with the six faces of the cube.

The Digital Face.

To place the hand, whether eccentric, concentric or normal, upon the upper face of the cube, is to hold, to protect, to control; it is to say: "I hold this under my protection."

To place the hand upon the external side-face of the cube, signifies to belong; it says: "All this belongs to me." It is the affirmation of the man who knows, who has had the thing in dispute under his own eyes, who has measured it, examined it in all its aspects. It is the affirmation of the connoisseur.

To apply the hand to the inner side of the face is to let go. Here is the sense of this affirmation: "You may say whatever you will, but I affirm in spite of every observation, in spite of all objection; I affirm whether or no."

The Back Face.

There are three ways of touching the front face of the cube with the hand.

A.--To touch it with the end of the fingers upward and the thumb inward, is to obtain: "I have obtained great benefits, I do not know how to express my gratitude." Or rather: "I keep the object for myself; I do not care to let it be seen." This is the mystic face. Or yet again: "I contemplate."

B.--To place the hand horizontally on the same face of the cube, is to restrain, or bound. "Go no farther, if you please; all this belongs to me."

C.--To place the hand upon the same anterior face of the cube, but with the extremities of the fingers vertically downward, means to retain. It says: "I reserve this for myself." Here, then, are three aspects for the anterior face of the cube.

The Palmar Face.

A.--To place the lower face of the cube in the hand, is to sustain. It is to say: "I will sustain you in misfortune."

B.--To apply as much as possible the palm upon the same posterior face of the cube, with the fingers downward, is to maintain: "I maintain what I have said."

C.--To apply the hand upon the same face with the extremities of the fingers upward, is to contain, is to show the object--it is to disclose: "I affirm; you cannot doubt me; I open my heart; behold me!"

There are, then, nine affirmations, which are explained by a mere view of the cube and its faces.

The twelve edges of the cube give a double affirmation; the angles, a triple affirmation. Example for the edges: To place the hand on the back edge, means: "I protect and I demonstrate."

There are three movements or inflections of the hand which must be pointed out: to hover, to insinuate, to envelop.

The three rhythmic actions of the hand must not be passed over in silence: to incline, to fall, to be precipitated.

The aspects of the hands would be simply telegraphic movements, were it not for the inflections of the voice, and, above all, the expression of the eyes. The expressions of the hand correspond to the voice. The hands are the last thing demanded in a gesture; but they must not remain motionless, as (if they were stiff, for instance) they might say more than was necessary.

The hands are clasped in adoration, for it seems as if we held the thing we love, that we desire.

The rubbing of the hands denotes joy, or an eager thirst for action; in the absence of anything else to caress, we take the hand, we communicate our joy to it.

There is a difference between the caress and the rubbing of the hands.

In the caress, the hand extends eagerly, and passes lightly, undulatingly, for fear of harming. There is an elevation of the shoulders.

The hand is an additional expression of the face. The movement must begin with the face, the hand only completes and interprets the facial expression. The head and hand cannot act simultaneously to express the same sentiment. One could not say no with head and hands at the same time. The head commands and precedes the movement of the hand.

The eyes, and not the head, may be parallel with the hand and the other agents.

The hand with its palm upward may be caressing, if there is an elevation of the eyebrow; repellent with the eyebrow concentric.

The waving hand may have much sense, according to the expression of the face.

The eye is the essential agent, the hand is only the reverberatory agent; hence it must show less energy than the eye.

Of the Fingers.

Each finger has its separate function, but it is exclusive of the great expressions which constitute the accords of nine. These are interesting facts, but they do not spring naturally from the fountain of gesture. They are more intellectual than moral.

In a synthetic action all the fingers converge. A very energetic will is expressed by the clenched fist.

In dealing with a fact in detail, as we say: "Remark this well," all the fingers open to bid us concern ourselves only with the part in dispute. This is analysis; it is not moral, it is intellectual.

If we speak of condensation we close the hand. If we have to do with a granulated object, we test it with the thumb and index finger.

If it is carneous, we touch it with the thumb and middle finger.

If the object is fluid, delicate, impressionable, we express it by the third finger.

If it is pulverized, we touch it with the little finger.

We change the finger as the body is solid, humid, delicate, or powdery.

The orator who uses the fingers in gesticulation, gives proof of great delicacy of mind.

Of the Legs.

The legs have nine positions which we call base attitudes.

We shall give a detailed description, summing up in a chart of the criterion of the legs at the end of this section.

First Attitude.--This consists in the equal balance of the body upon its two legs. It is that of a child posed upon its feet, neither of which extends farther than the other. This attitude is normal, and is the sign of weakness, of respect; for respect is a sort of weakness for the person we address. It also characterizes infancy, decay.

Second Attitude.--In this attitude the strong leg is backward, the free one forward. This is the attitude of reflection, of concentration, of the strong man. It indicates the absence of passions, or of concentred passions. It has something of intelligence;

it is neither the position of the child nor of the uncultured man. It indicates calmness, strength, independence, which are signs of intelligence. It is the concentric state.

Third Attitude.--Here the strong leg is forward, the free leg backward. This is the type of vehemence. It is the eccentric attitude.

The orator who would appear passive, that is, as experiencing some emotion, or submitting to some action, must have a backward pose as in figure 2.

If, on the contrary, he would communicate to his audience the expression of his will or of his own thought, he must have a forward poise as in figure 3.

Fourth Attitude.--Here the strong leg is behind, as in the second attitude, but far more apart from the other and more inflected.

This is very nearly the attitude of the fencing master, except the position of the foot, which is straight instead of being turned outward.

This is a sign of the weakness which follows vehemence.

Natural weakness is portrayed in figure 1; sudden weakness in figure 4.

Fifth Attitude.--This is necessitated by the inclination of the torso to one side or the other. It is

a third to one side. It is a passive attitude, preparatory to all oblique steps. It is passing or transitive, and ends all the angles formed by walking. It is in frequent use combined with the second.

Sixth Attitude.--This is one-third crossed. It is an attitude of great respect and ceremony, and is effective only in the presence of princes.

Seventh Attitude.--This is the first position, but the legs are farther apart. The free limb is turned

to one side; both limbs are strong. This denotes intoxication, the man overwhelmed with astonishment, familiarity, repose. It is a double fifth.

Eighth Attitude.--This is the second, with limbs farther apart. It is the alternative attitude. The body faces one of the two legs. It is alternative from the fact that it ends in the expression of two extreme and opposite sentiments; that is, in the third or the fourth. It serves for eccentricity with reticence, for menace and jealousy. It is the type of hesitation. It is a parade attitude. At the same time offensive and defensive, its aspect easily impresses and leaves the auditor in doubt. What is going to happen? What sentiment is going to arise from this attitude which must have its solution either in the third or fourth?

Ninth Attitude,--This is a stiff second attitude, in which the strong leg and also the free one are equally rigid. The body in this attitude bends backward; it is the sign of distrust and scorn.

The legs have one aspect. If, in the second, the strong leg advances slowly to find the other, it is the tiger about to leap upon his prey; if, on the contrary, the free leg advances softly, the vengeance is retarded.

The menace made in figure 3, with inclination of the head and agitation of the index finger, is that of a valet who wishes to play some ill turn upon his master; for with the body bent and the arm advanced, there is no intelligence. But it is ill-suited to vengeance, because that attitude should be strong and solid, with the eye making the indication better than the finger.

Criterion of the Legs: [Part 1], [Part 2]

Chapter VIII.
Of the Semeiotic, or the Reason of Gesture.

The Types which Characterize Gesture.

The semeiotic is the science of signs, and hence the science of the form of gesture. Its object is to give the reason for the forms of gesture according to the types that characterize it, the apparatus that modifies it, and the figures that represent it.

There are three sorts of types in man: constitutional or formal, fugitive or passional, and habitual.

The constitutional type is that which we have at birth.

The passional type is that which is reproduced under the sway of passion.

The habitual types are those which, frequently reproduced, come to modify even the bones of the man, and give him a particular constitution.

Habit is a second nature, in fact, a habitual movement fashions the material and physical being in such a manner as to create a type not inborn, and which is named habitual.

To recognize constitutional types, we study the movements of the body, and the profound action which the habit of these movements exercises upon the body; and, as the type produced by these movements is in perfect analogy with the formal, constitutional types, we come through this analogy to infer constant phenomena from the passional form. Thus all the formal types are brought back to the passional types.

Passional types explain habitual types, and these last explain constitutional types. Thus, when we know the sum of movements possible to an organ, when we know the sense of it, we arrive at that semeiotic through which the reason of a form is perfectly given.

Of Gesture Relative to its Modifying Apparatus.

Every gesture places itself in relation with the subject and the object.

It is rare that a movement tending toward an object does not touch the double form. Thus, in saying that a thing is admirable, we start from a multitude of physical centres whose sense we are to determine. When this sense is known, understanding the point of departure, we understand still better that of arrival.

This division, which is not made at random, is reproduced in the subjoined diagram.

1 represents the vital expression; 2, the intellectual; 3, the moral. We divide the face into three zones: the genal,^[4] buccal, and frontal.

The expression is physical, moral and intellectual.

In the posterior section of the head we have the occipital, parietal and temporal zones. The life is in the occiput, the soul in the parietal zone, and the mind holds the temporal region near the forehead as its inalienable domicile.

The chest is divided into the thoracic centre for the mind, into the epigastric for the soul, and into the abdominal for the life.

The arm is divided into three sections: the deltoid, brachial and carpal.

This division is a rational one. Let us suppose this exclamation: "It is admirable!" Some say it starting from the shoulder, others from the chest, others from the abdominal focus. These are three very distinct modes. There is more intelligence when the movement is from the thoracic centre. This concerns the honor, the dignity.

When the movement is from the epigastrium, it is moral in a high degree. For example: "This is beautiful! It is admirable! I know not why, but this gives me pleasure!"

The movement from the abdomen indicates sensuality, good nature, and stupidity.

The movement is the same with the head. In emotion it proceeds from the chin; it is the life movement, it is instinct. That from the cheeks, indicates sentiments, the most noble affections.

Carrying the hand to the forehead indicates intelligence. Here we seek relief from embarrassment, in the other head movements we do not seek it. The one is a mental, the others are purely physical efforts. In the latter case one becomes violent and would fain give blows with his fist.

An infinite number of movements proceed from these various seats.

We have now reached the semeiotic standpoint, that of these very clear plans, the very starting point of gesture.

The articular centres of the arms are called thermometers: the wrist, that of the organic physical life; the shoulder, that of the sensitive life; and the elbow, that of the relative life.

The thumb has much expression; drawn backward it is a symbol of death, drawn forward it is the sign of life. Where there is abundance of life, the thumb stands out from the hand. If a friend promises me a service with the thumb drawn inward, he deceives. If with the thumb in the normal state, he is a submissive but not a devoted friend. He cannot be very much counted upon. If the thumb stands outward, we may rely upon his promise.

We still find life, soul and mind in each division of the body.

There are also a buccal, an occipital and an abdominal life.

The body of man, with all its active and attractive foci, with all its manifestations, may be considered an ellipse.

These well-indicated divisions may be stated in an analytic formula:

Attractive Centers.	{	Life: Occipital.	}
		Mind: Temporal.
		Soul: Parietal.
		Mind: Frontal.	}	}	Expressive centres.
		Soul: Buccal.
		Life: Genal.
		Mind: Thoracic.	}
		Soul: Epigastric.
		Life: Abdominal.
		Life: Shoulders.	}
		Soul: Elbows.
		Mind: Wrists.
		Life: Thigh.	}
		Soul: Knee.
		Mind: Foot.

This is the proper place to fix the definition of each division by some familiar illustration.

Let us take an individual in a somewhat embarrassed situation. He is a gentleman who has been overcome by wine. We see him touching the temporal bone, or the ear, as if to seek some expedient: the strategic mind is there.

Let us begin with the descending gamut, and let the hand pass over all the divisions of the attractive centres.

At the occiput: Here is an adventure! I have really had too strong a dose of them!

At the parietal bone: What a shame!

At the temporal bone: What will the people say of me?

At the forehead: Reason however tells me to pause.

At the buccal zone: How shall I dare reappear before those who have seen me in this state!

At the genal zone: But they did serve such good wine!

At the breast: Reason long ago advised temperance to me.

At the epigastrium: I have so many regrets every time I transgress!

At the abdomen: The devil! Gourmandism! I am a wretched creature!

The same illustrations may be reproduced in the rising scale.

When the parietals are touched, the idea and the sentiment are very elevated. As the foci rise, they become more exalted.

Let this be considered from another point of view. We shall reproduce gratitude by touching all the centres.

They have been centres of attraction, we shall render them points of departure.

"I thank you!" The more elevated the movements, the more nobility there is in the expression of the sentiment. The exaltation is proportional to the section indicated.

The posterior region is very interesting. There are three sorts of vertebrae: cervical, dorsal and lumbar.

This apparatus may first be considered as a lever. But taking the vertical column alone, we shall have twenty-four special and distinct keys whose action and tonality will be entirely specific. From these twenty-four vertebrae proceed the nervous plexi, all aiding a particular expression; so that the vertebral column forms the keys of the sympathetic human instrument.

If the finger is cut, there is a special emotion in one place of the vertebral column.

If the finger is crushed by the blow of a hammer, the emotion will affect a special vertebra.

The nose is one of the most complex and important agents.

There are here nine divisions to be studied. (See page 82.)

Chapter IX.
Of Gesture in Relation to the Figures which Represent It.

Gesture through its inflections may reproduce all the figures of geometry. We shall confine ourselves to a description of the primary and most usual imitative inflections.

These inflections comprise three sorts of movements affected by each gesture, which usually unite and constitute a synthetic form. These three movements agree with the three primary actions which characterize the manifestations of the soul, the mind and the life. These are direct, circular and oblique inflections.

The flexor movements are direct, the rotary movements circular, the abductory movements oblique. The sum of these movements constitutes nine co-essential terms, whose union forms the accord of nine.

There are rising, falling and medium inflections.

Gesture does everything that the voice does in rising. Hence there is great affinity between the voice and the arms. Vocal inflection is like the gestures of the blind; in fact, with acquaintance, one may know the nature of the gesture from the sound of the voice.

We exalt people by a circle. We say that a thing is beautiful, noble, grand--making circles which grew higher and broader as the object is more elevated.

We choose the circle for exalting and caressing, because the circle is the most agreeable form to touch and to caress. For example, an ivory ball.

This form applies to all that is great.

For God there is no circle, there can be none. But we outline a portion of an immense circle, of which we can touch but one point. We indicate only the inner periphery of a circle it is impossible to finish, and then retrace our steps.

When the circle is made small, we make it with one, two, three or four fingers, with the hand, with the arm. If the circle is vast as can be made with the arms, it is homogeneous.

But a small circle made with the arm will express stupidity. Thus we say of a witty man: "This is a witty man," employing the fingers.

Stupidity wishing to simulate this, would make a broad movement.

Let us take the fable of Captain Renard as an example of this view of the circle.

I depict the cunning nature of this captain with my fingers. Without this he would not be a captain; but at most a corporal.

--"He went in company
With his friend He-Goat of the branching horns.
The one could see no farther than his nose;
The other was past master in deceit."

As they go along, the fox relates all his exploits to the goat, and the goat surprised, and wishing an end of the recital, sees fit to make a gesture, as he says:

"I admire people full of sense like you."

In making the small circle, he employs not only the fingers, but the arm, the shoulder, the whole body. He is an imbecile. He wastes too much effort in making a small circle.

Let us take a situation from an opera. When Robert enters and sees Isabella, he says of her:

"This peaceful sleep, this lull of every sense,
Lends a yet sweeter charm to this young face."

The gesture is in the form of a geometrical figure.

In another place, Robert says:

"Thy voice, proud beauty, few can understand."

Here a spheroidal and then a rectangular movement must be made. We close the door. "Her voice will be understood by me, alone." He might say: "Thy voice, proud beauty, will not be understood. It will be elevated for me, and not for others."

Every sentiment has its form, its plastic expression, and as its form is more or less elaborated, we may judge of the elevation of the speaker's thought. If we could stereotype gesture, we might say: "This one has the more elevated heart, that one the least elevated; this one in the matter, that one in the spirit of his discourse."

All gestures may be very well delineated. An orator gesticulating before the public, resembles a painter who pencils outlines and designs upon a wall.

This reproduction of the figures of gesture is called Chorography. We give in the subjoined chart some types of gesture. These are a few flowers culled from a rich garden.

To express sensual grace the gesture takes the downward spheroidal form. The virtuous form would be upward.

If we wish to express many attractive things, we make many spheroidal gestures.

What is called the culminating point of the gesture, must not be forgotten. This is a ring in the form of the last stroke of the German letter D, which is made by a quick, electric movement of the wrist.

We refer the student to the close of the volume, for a model of exercises comprising a series of gestures which express the most eloquent sentiments of the human heart.

This exercise in gesture has two advantages: it presents all the interest of the most fascinating drama, and is the best means of gaining suppleness by accustoming ourselves to the laws of gesture.

[Criterion of Chorography.]

[Inflective Medallion.]

The vertical line 1 expresses affirmation. The horizontal line 2 expresses negation. The oblique line 3 rejects despicable things. The oblique line 4 rejects things which oppress us, of which we would be freed.

5. The quarter-circle, whose form recalls that of the hammock, expresses well-being, happiness, confidence.

6. The curvilinear eccentric quarter-circle expresses secrecy, silence, possession, domination, stability, imposition, inclusion.

7. The curvilinear outside quarter-circle expresses things slender, delicate (in two ways); the downward movement expresses moral and intellectual delicacy.

8. The outside quarter-circle expresses exuberance, plenitude, amplitude, generosity.

9. The circle which surrounds and embraces, characterizes glorification and exaltation.

Part Third.
Articulate Language.

Chapter I.
Origin and Organic Apparatus of Language.

Man reveals his life through more than four millions of inflections ere he can speak or gesticulate. When he begins to reason, to make abstractions, the vocal apparatus and gesture are insufficient; he must speak, he must give his thought an outside form so that it may be appreciated and transmitted through the senses. There are things which can be expressed neither by sound nor gesture. For instance, how shall we say at the same time of a plant: "It is beautiful, but it has no smell." Thought must then be revealed by conventional signs, which are articulation. Therefore, God has endowed man with the rich gift of speech.

Speech is the sense of the intelligence; sound the sense of the life, and gesture that of the heart.

Soul communicates with soul only through the senses. The senses are the condition of man as a pilgrim on this earth. Man is obliged to materialize all: the sensations through the voice, the sentiments through gesture, the ideas through speech. The means of transmission are always material. This is why the church has sacraments, an exterior worship, chants, ceremonies. All its institutions arise from a principle eminently philosophical.

Speech is formed by three agents: the lips, the tongue and the soft-palate.

It is delightful to study the special rôle of these agents, the reason of their movements.

They have a series of gestures that may be perfectly understood. Thus language resembles the hand, having also its gesture.

Chapter II.
Elements of Articulate Language.

Every language is composed of consonants and vowels. These consonants and vowels are gestures. The value of the consonant is the gesture of the thing expressed. But as gesture is always the expression of a moral fact, each consonant has the intrinsic character of a movement of the heart. It is easy to prove that the consonant is a gesture. For example, in articulating it, the tongue rises to the palate and makes the same movement as the arm when it would repel something.

The elements of all languages have the same meaning. The vowels correspond directly to the moral state.

There is diversity of language because the things we wish to express vary from difference in usage and difference of manner and climate. What we call a shoe, bears among northern people a name indicating that it protects the feet from the cold; among southern people it protects the feet from the heat. Elsewhere the shoe protects the feet against the roughness of the soil; and in yet other places, it exists only as a defensive object--a weapon.

These diverse interpretations require diverse signs. This does not prove the diversity of language, but the diversity of the senses affected by the same object.

Things are perceived only after the fashion of the perceiver, and this is why the syllables vary among different peoples.

Nevertheless, there is but one language. We find everywhere these words: I an active personality, me a passive personality, and mine an awarding personality. In every language we find the subject, the verb and the adjective.

Every articulate language is composed of substantive, adjective and copulative ideas.

All arts are found in articulation. Sound is the articulation of the vocal apparatus; gesture the articulation of the dynamic apparatus; language the articulation of the buccal apparatus. Therefore, music, the plastic arts and speech have their origin and their perfection in articulation.

It is, then, of the utmost importance to understand thoroughly the elements of speech, which is at the same time a vocalization and a dynamic. Without this knowledge no oratorical art is possible.

Let us now hasten to take possession of the riches of speech.

Chapter III.
The Oratorical Value of Speech.

The privilege of speech may be considered under a double aspect, in itself and in its relations to the art of oratory.

1. In Itself.--Speech is the most wonderful gift of the Creator. Through speech man occupies the first rank in the scale of being. It is the language of the reason, and reason lifts man above every creature. Man through speech incarnates his mind to unite himself with his fellow-men, as the Son of God was incarnated to unite with human nature; like the Son of God who nourishes humanity with his body in the eucharist, so man makes his speech understood by multitudes who receive it entire, without division or diminution.

Eternal thanks to God for this ineffable gift, so great in itself, of such value in the art of oratory!

2. What is the oratorical value of speech? In oratorical art, speech plays a subordinate but indispensable rôle.

Let us examine separately the two members of this proposition.

A.--In the hierarchy of oratorical powers, speech comes only in the third order. In fact, the child begins to utter cries and to gesticulate before he speaks.

The text is only a label. The sense lies not in speech, but in inflection and gesture. Nature institutes a movement, speech names the movement. Writing is a dead letter.

Speech is only the title of that which gesture has announced; speech comes only to confirm what is already understood by the auditors.

We are moved in reading, not so much by what is said, as by the manner of reading. It is not what we hear that affects us, but that which we ourselves imagine.

An author cannot fully express his ideas in writing; hence the interpretation of the hearer is often false, because he does not know the writer.

It is remarkable, the way in which we refer everything to ourselves. We must needs create a semblance of it. We are affected by a discourse because we place the personage in a situation our fancy has created. Hence it happens that we may be wrong in our interpretation, and that the author might say: "This is not my meaning."

In hearing a symphony we at once imagine a scene, we give it an aspect; this is why it affects us.

A written discourse requires many illustrative epithets; in a spoken discourse, the adjectives may be replaced by gesture and inflection.

Imitation is the melody of the eye, inflection is the melody of the ear. All that strikes the eye has a sound; this is why the sight of the stars produces an enchanting melody in our souls.

Hence in a discourse, speech is the letter, and it is inflection and gesture which give it life. Nevertheless:--

B.--The rôle of speech, although subordinate, is not only important, but necessary. In fact, human language, as we have said, is composed of inflection, gesture and speech.

Language would not be complete without speech. Speech has nothing to do with sentiment, it is true, but a discourse is not all sentiment; there is a place for reason, for demonstration, and upon this ground gesture has nothing to do; the entire work here falls back upon speech.

Speech is the crown of oratorical action; it is this which gives the final elucidation, which justifies gesture. Gesture has depicted the object, the Being, and speech responds: God.

Chapter IV.
The Value of Words in Phrases.

Expression is very difficult. One may possess great knowledge and lack power to express it. Eloquence does not always accompany intellect. As a rule, poets do not know how to read what they have written. Hence we may estimate the importance of understanding the value of the different portions of a discourse. Let us now examine intellectual language in relation to intensity of ideas.

There are nine species of words, or nine species of ideas. The article need not be counted, since it is lacking in several languages. It is the accord of nine which composes the language, and which corresponds to the numbers. Every word has a determinate, mathematical value.

As many unities must be reckoned on the initial consonant as there are values in the word.

Thus the subject has less value than the attribute.

The attribute has a value of six degrees and represents six times the intensity of the subject. Why? Because God has willed that we should formulate our idea with mathematical intensities.

The value rests only upon the initial consonant of the word. Words have only one expressive portion, that is, the initial consonant. It receives the whole value, and is the invariable part of the word. It is the root. Words are transformed in passing from language to language, and nevertheless retain their radical.

How shall we say that a flower is charming?

Do not demand of intensity of sound a value it does not possess. It suffices to await the articulation of the consonant.

The most normal phenomena remain true to mechanical laws. The mere articulation of the word expresses more than all the vocal and imitative effects that can be introduced.

Most speakers dwell upon the final word; this habit is absolutely opposed to the nature of heart movements. This school habit is hard to correct, and if Rachel became a great artiste, it was because she did not have this precedent.

The subject represents one degree; it is the weakest expression.

The verb represents two degrees; the attribute six. Let us illustrate the manner of passing from one to six as follows:

A rustic comes to visit you upon some sort of business. This man has a purpose. As you are a musician he is surprised by his first sight of a piano. He says to himself: "What is this? It is a singular object."

It is neither a table nor a cupboard. He now perceives the ivory keys and other keys of ebony. What can this mean? He stands confounded before an instrument entirely new to him. If it were given to him, he would not know what to do with it; he might burn it. The piano interests him so much that he forgets the object of his visit.

He sees you arrive. You occupy for him the place of the verb in relation to the object which interests him. He passes from this object to you. Although you are not the object which engrosses him, there is a progression in the interest, because he knows that through you he will learn what this piece of furniture is. "Tell me what this is!" he cries.

You strike the piano; it gives forth an accord. O heavens, how beautiful! He is greatly moved, he utters many expressions of delight, and now he would not burn the instrument.

Here is a progression. At first the piece of furniture interests him; then its owner still more; at last the attributes of the piano give it its entire value.

But why six degrees upon the last term? The value of a fact comes from its limitation; the knowledge of an idea also proceeds from its limitation. A fact in its general and vague expression, awakens but little interest. But as it descends from the genus to the species, from the species to the individual, it grows more interesting. It comes more within our capacity. We do not embrace the vast circle of a generic fact.

Let us take another proposition: "A flower is pleasing."

The word flower alone says nothing to the imagination. Is it a rose or a lily of the valley? The expression is too vague. When the idea of genus is modified by that of species, we are better satisfied.

Let us say: "The flower of the forest." This word forest conveys an idea to the mind. We can make our bouquet. We think of the lily of the valley, of the violet, the anemone, the periwinkle. This restriction gives value to the subject. Forest is more important than the verb which does not complete the idea, and less important than pleasing. Therefore we place 3 upon forest, and shall rank pleasing from 3 to 4, since it closes the assertion.

If we individualize by the word this, we augment the value by giving actuality to the word flower. This has more value than the forest, because it designates the subject. Hence this has four degrees.

As pleasing forms the very essence of our proposition, we are obliged to give it five degrees.

The idea is still somewhat vague. If I specify it still further by saying this little flower, little has a higher value than all the other words.

What value shall we give this adjective? We have reached five, but have not yet fully expressed the idea which impresses us. Little must therefore have six degrees.

This is the sole law for all the languages of the world. There are no two ways of articulating the words of a discourse. When we learn a discourse by heart in order to deliver it, and take no account of the value of the terms, the divine law is reversed.

Now, if we could introduce an expression here, which would at once enhance the value of the word pleasing, it would evidently be stronger than all the others. In fact, if the way in which a thing is pleasing can be expressed, it is evident that this manner of being pleasing will rise above the word itself.

We do not know the proportion in which the flower is pleasing. We will say that it is very pleasing. This adverb gives the word pleasing a new value. It is in turn modified. If we should say immensely, or use any other adverb of quantity, the value would remain the same. It would still be a modification. Thus, when we say of God that he is good, immense, infinite, there is always a limitation attached to the idea of God,--a limitation necessary to our nature. For God is not good in the way we understand goodness or greatness; but our finite minds need some expression for our idea.

We see the word pleasing modified in turn, and the term which modifies it, is higher than itself. Very pleasing,--what value shall we give it? We can give it no more than seven here.

A single word may obliterate the effect produced by all these expressions. A simple conjunction may be introduced which will entirely modify all we have taken pains to say. It is a but. But is an entire discourse. We no longer believe what has been said hitherto, but what follows this word. This conjunction has a value of eight degrees, a value possible to all conjunctions without exception. It sums up the changes indicated by subsequent expressions, and embraces them synthetically. It has, then, a very great oratorical value.

The Conjunction.

1. We refer here only to conjunctions in the elliptical sense. The conjunction is an ellipse, because it is the middle term between two members of the sentence which are the extremes; it recalls what has just been said, and indicates what is to come. Considered in itself, the word and, when elliptical, embraces what has just been said, and what is about to be said. All this is founded upon the principle that the means are equal to the extremes.

2. The copulative or enumerative conjunctions, have only two degrees. We see that a conjunction is not elliptical when, instead of uniting propositions, it unites only ideas of the same character.

3. Determinative conjunctions have only three degrees. For example: "It is necessary that I should work." That has only three degrees.

4. The values indicated can be changed only by additional values justified by gesture. Thus in the phrase: "This medley of glory and honor,"--the value of the word medley can and must be changed; but a gesture is necessary, for speech is only a feeble echo of gesture. Only gesture can justify a value other than that indicated in this demonstration. This value is purely grammatical, but the gesture may give it a superlative idea, which we call additional value. The value of consonants may vary in the pronunciation according to their valuation by the speakers.

More or less value is given to the degrees noted and to be noted, as there is more or less emotion in the speaker. This explains why a gesture, which expresses an emotion of the soul, justifies changing the grammatical value in the pronunciation of consonants.

5. Even aside from additional values, the gesture must always precede the articulation of the initial consonant. Otherwise to observe the degree would be supremely ridiculous. The speaker would resemble a skeleton, a statue. The law of values becomes vital only through gesture and inflection. Stripped of the poetry of gesture and inflection, the application of the law is monstrous.

To place six degrees upon pleasing without gesture, is abominable.

We now understand the spirit of gesture, which is given to man to justify values. It is for him to decide whether the proposition is true or not. If we deprive our discourse of gestures, no way is left to prove the truth of values. Thus gesture is prescribed by certain figures, and we shall now see from a proposition, how many gestures are needed, and to what word the gesture should be given.

The Conjunction Continued--Various Examples.

The degree of value given to the conjunction, may be represented by the figure 8.

Let us justify this valuation by citing these two lines of Racine:

"The wave comes on, it breaks, and vomits
'neath our eyes,
Amid the floods of foam, a monster
grim and dire."

The ordinary reader would allow the conjunction and to pass unperceived, because the word is not sonorous, and we accord oratorical effects only to sonorous words. But the man who sees the meaning fully, and who adds and, has said the whole. The other words are important, but everything is implied in this conjunction.

Racine has not placed and here to disjoin, but to unite.

We give another example of the conjunction:

Augustus says to Cinna:

"Take a chair Cinna, and in all things heed
Strictly the law that I lay down for thee."

Let us suppress the isolation and silence of the conjunction, and there is no more color.

Augustus adds:

"Hold thy tongue captive, and if silence deep
To thy emotion do some violence"--

Suppress the silence and isolation of the conjunction and, and how poor is the expression!

In the fable of "The Wolf and the Dog:"

"Sire wolf would gladly have attacked and slain
him, but it would have been necessary to give battle, and it was now almost morning."

The entire significance lies in the silence which follows the conjunctions.

We speak of a sympathetic conjunction, and also of one denoting surprise or admiration; but this conjunction differs from the interjection, only in this respect: it rests upon the propositions and unites its terms. Like the interjection, it is of a synthetic and elliptic nature; it groups all the expressions it unites as interjectives. It is, then, from this point of view, exclamative.

In the fable of "The Wolf and the Lamb," the wolf says:

"This must be some one of your own race, for
you would not think of sparing me, you shepherds and you dogs."

Here is an interjective conjunction. Suppress the complaint after for, and there is no more effect. The conjunction is the soul of the discourse.

In the exclamation in "Joseph Sold by his Brethren," we again find an interjective conjunction.

"Alas.......... and
The ingrates who would sell me!"

Here the conjunction and yields little to the interjection alas. It has fully as much value.

The Interjection in Relation to its Degree of Value.

The interjection has 9 degrees; this is admirably suited to the interjection, an elliptical term which comprises the three terms of a proposition. In summing up the value of a simple proposition, we have (a noteworthy thing) the figure 9. This gives the accord of 9. The subject 1, the verb 2, and 6 upon the attribute, equal 9. Thus the equation is perfect.

Gesture is the rendering of the ellipse. Gesture is the elliptical language given to man to express what speech is powerless to say.

We have spoken of additional figures. Each of these figures supposes a gesture. There is a gesture, an imitative expression wherever there is an additional figure. An ellipse in a word, such as is met with in the conjunction and the interjection, demands a gesture.

9 is a neutral term which must be sustained by gesture and inflection. Gesture would be the inflection of the deaf, inflection the gesture of the blind. The orator should, in fact, address himself to the deaf as well as to the blind. Gesture and inflection should supplement physical and mental infirmities, and God in truth has given man this double means of expression. There is also a triple expression, which is double in view of this same modification of speech. Let us suppose this proposition:

"How much pain I suffer in hearing!"

According to the rules laid down, we have 3 upon pain, 6 upon suffer, and 6 again upon hearing.

It is said that Talma brought out the intensity of his suffering by resting on the word pain. This was wrong. We should always seek the expression equivalent to that employed, to attain a certain value.

If, instead of the determinate conjunction that, we should have how much (combien), this would evidently be the important word. This word has an elliptical form. It evidently belongs to a preceding proposition. It means: "I could not express all that I suffer." Then 6 must be placed upon how much and not upon pain.

But the figure 6 here is a thermometer which indicates a degree of vitality; it does not express the degree of vitality; that is reserved for gesture. We need not ask what degree this can give; its office is to express--and this is a good deal--a value mechanical and material, but very significant. A reversion of values may constitute a falsehood. Stage actors are sometimes indefinably comic in this way.

A Resumé of the Degrees of Value.

To crown this unprecedented study upon language, we give in a table, a resumé of the different degrees of value in the various parts of a discourse, relative to the initial consonant.

The object of the preposition	1
The verb to be and the prepositions	2
The direct or indirect regimen	3
The limiting (possessive and demonstrative) adjectives	4
The qualifying adjectives	5
The participles or substantives taken adjectively or attributively; that is to say, every word coming immediately after the verb, in fine, the attribute	6
The adverbs	7
Conjunctions, superlative ideas or additional figures	8
The interjection	9

The pronoun is either subject or complement, and therefore included in the rest. As for the article, it is not essential to a language; there is no article in Latin.

Thus the value of our ideas is expressed by figures. We have only to reckon on our fingers. We might beat time for the pronunciation of the consonants as for the notes of music. Let the pupil exercise his fingers, and attain that skill which allows the articulation of a radical consonant only after he has marked with his finger the time corresponding to its figure. If difficulties present themselves at first, so much the better; he will only the more accurately distinguish the value of the words.

Chapter V.
French and Latin Prosody.

French Prosody.

Prosody is the rhythmic pronunciation of syllables according to accent, respiration, and, above all, quantity.

In the Italian there are no two equal sounds; the quantity is never uniform. Italian is, therefore, the most musical of languages. Where we place one accent upon a vowel, the Italians place ten.

There is a euphonic law for every language; all idioms must have an accent. In every language there are intense sounds and subdued sounds; the Italians hold to this variety of alternate short and long sounds. Continuous beauty should be avoided. A beautiful tone must be introduced to relieve the others. Monotony in sounds as well as in pronunciation, must be guarded against. Harmony lies in opposition.

There is but one rule of quantity in French pronunciation. Here is the text of this law:

There are and can be only long initial or final vowels--whence we conclude:

1. Every final is long and every penultimate is final, since e mute is not pronounced.

2. The length of initial vowels depends upon the value of the initial consonants which they precede.

A word cannot contain two long vowels unless it begins with a vowel. In this case, the vowel of the preceding word is long, and prepares for the enunciation of the consonant according to its degree.

Every first consonant in a word is strong, as it constitutes the radical or invariable part of the word.

The force of this consonant is subordinate to the ruling degree of the idea it is called to decide. But every vowel which precedes this first consonant is long, since it serves as a preparation for it. But to what degree of length may this initial vowel be carried? The representative figure of the consonant will indicate it.

Usually, the first consonant of every word is radical. Still there might be other radical consonants in the same word. But the first would rise above the others.

The radical designates the substance of being, and the last consonant the manner.

The whole secret of expression lies in the time we delay the articulation of the initial consonant. This space arrests the attention and prevents our catching the sound at a disadvantage.

Latin Prosody.

1. The final of a word of several syllables is usually short.

2. In words of two syllables, the first is long. In Latin words of two syllables, the first almost always contains the radical.

3. In words of three and more syllables, there is one long syllable: sometimes the first, sometimes another. We rest only upon this, all the others being counted more or less short.

In compound words no account need be made of prefixes; There are many compound words; and, consequently, it is often the last or next to the last consonant which is the radical.

The last consonant represents always, in variable words, quality, person, mode or time. The radical, on the contrary, represents the sum and substance.

4. Monosyllables are long, but they have, especially when they follow each other, particular rules, which result from the sense of the phrases, and from the mutual dependence of words.

Chapter VI.
Method.

Dictation Exercises.

A subject and text being given, notes may be written under the nine following heads:

Oratorical value of ideas.
The ellipse.
Vocal inflections.
Inflective affinities, or relation to the preceding inflections.
Gestures.
Imitative affinities.
The special rule for each gesture.
The law whence this rule proceeds.
Reflections upon the portrayal of personal character.

Chapter VII.
A Series of Gestures for Exercises.

Preliminary Reflections.

We know the words of Garrick:

"I do not confide in myself, not I, in that inspiration for which idle mediocrity waits."

Art, then, presents a solid basis to the artist, upon which he can rest and reproduce at will the history of the human heart as revealed by gesture.

This is true, and it is as an application of this truth that we are about to consider the series, which is an exposition of the passions that agitate man, an initiation into imitative language. It is a poem, and at the same time it lays down rules through whose aid the self-possessed artist can regain the gesture which arises from sudden perturbation of the heart. It is a grammar which must be studied incessantly, in order to understand the origin and value of imitative expressions.

The development of the series is based upon the static, the semeiotic and the dynamic.

The static is the life of gesture; it is the science of the equipoise of levers, it teaches the weight of the limbs and the extent of their development, in order to maintain the equilibrium of the body. Its criterion should be a sort of balance.

The semeiotic is the spirit and rationale of gesture. It is the science of signs.

The dynamic is the action of equiponderant forces through the static; it regulates the proportion of movements the soul would impress upon the body. The foundation and criterion of the dynamic, is the law of the pendulum.

The series proceeds, resting upon these three powers. The semeiotic has given the signs, it becomes æsthetic in applying them. The semeiotic says: "Such a gesture reveals such a passion;" and gesture replies: "To such a passion I will apply such a sign." And without awaiting the aid of an inspiration often hazardous, deceitful and uncertain, it moulds the body to its will, and forces it to reproduce the passion the soul has conceived. The semeiotic is a science, the æsthetic an act of genius.

The series divides its movements into periods of time, in accordance with the principle that the more time a movement has, the more its vitality and power; and so every articulation becomes the object of a time.

The articulations unfold successively and harmoniously. Every articulation which has no action, must remain absolutely pendent, or become stiff. Grace is closely united to gesture; the manifold play of the articulations which constitutes strength, also constitutes grace. Grace subdues only because sustained by strength, and because strength naturally subdues. Grace without strength is affectation.

Every vehement movement must affect the vertical position, because obliquity deprives the movement of force, by taking from it the possibility of showing the play of the articulations.

The demonstration of movement is in the head. The head is the primary agent of movement; the body is the medium agent, the arm the final agent.

Three agents in gesture are especially affected in characterizing the life, mind and soul. The thumb is the index-sign of life; the shoulder is the sign of passion and sentiment; the elbow is the sign of humility, pride, power, intelligence and sacrifice.

The first gesture of the series is the interpellation, the entrance upon the scene. The soul is scarce moved as yet, and still this is the most difficult of gestures, because the most complex. It must indicate the nature of the interpellation, its degree and the situation of the giver and receiver of the summons in regard to each other.

A study of the signs which distinguish these different shades will teach us the analysis of gesture.

Aside from simple interpellation, the series passes successively from gratitude, devotion, etc., to anger, menace and conflict, leaving the soul at the point where it is subdued and asks forgiveness.

The passional or fugitive type forms the constant subject of the study of this series.