Elocution Simplified / With an Appendix on Lisping, Stammering, Stuttering, and Other Defects of Speech.

by Walter K. Fobes

STYLE.

What you have to say, where you have to say it, when you have to say it, why you have to say it, and to whom you have to say it,—on these depend how you shall say it, or your style. Conversational style is as you would talk in earnest conversation with a friend; Narrative, as you would tell an anecdote or story to a company of friends; Descriptive, as you would describe what you had actually seen; Didactic, as you would state earnestly, decisively, but pleasantly, your knowledge or opinions to others; Public Address, which generally includes the Didactic, Narrative, and Descriptive, is spoken with design to move, to persuade, and instruct, particularly the latter; Declamatory is Public Address magnified in expression, exhibiting more emotion, both in language, and in quality, and fulness of voice; the Emotional or Dramatic, in which the emotions and passions are strongly expressed. In practising these different styles, the quality, pitch, force, and time must be regulated by your thought and feeling, guided, as in transition, by common sense, which will enable you to tell natural from unnatural expression. Practise these few exercises under each head; but you will do better to practise pieces such as are referred to under each head in the "Reading Club."

CONVERSATIONAL.

1. "And how's my boy, Betty?" asked Mrs. Boffin, sitting down beside her.

"He's bad; he's bad!" said Betty. "I begin to be afeerd he'll not be yours any more than mine. All others belonging to him have gone to the Power and the Glory; and I have a mind that they're drawing him to them, leading him away."

"No, no, no!" said Mrs. Boffin.

"I don't know why else he clinches his little hand, as if it had hold of a finger that I can't see; look at it!" said Betty, opening the wrappers in which the flushed child lay, and showing his small right hand lying closed upon his breast. "It's always so. It don't mind me."

2. Helen.—What's that you read?

Modus.—Latin, sweet cousin.

Hel.—'Tis a naughty tongue,
I fear, and teaches men to lie.

Modus.—To lie!

Hel.—You study it. You call your cousin sweet,
And treat her as you would a crab. As sour
'Twould seem you think her: so you covet her!
Why, how the monster stares, and looks about!
You construe Latin, and can't construe that!

Modus.—I never studied women.

Hel.—No, nor men;
Else would you better know their ways, nor read
In presence of a lady.

3. "Now," said Wardle, "what say you to an hour on the ice? We shall have plenty of time."

"Capital!" said Mr. Benjamin Allen.

"Prime!" ejaculated Mr. Bob Sawyer.

"You skate, of course, Winkle?" said Wardle.

"Ye—yes; oh, yes!" replied Mr. Winkle. "I—I am rather out of practice."

"Oh, do skate, Mr. Winkle!" said Arabella. "I like to see it so much!"

"Oh, it is so graceful!" said another young lady.

A third young lady said it was elegant; and a fourth expressed her opinion that it was "swan-like."

"I should be very happy, I'm sure," said Mr. Winkle, reddening; "but I have no skates."

This objection was at once overruled. Trundle had got a couple of pair, and the fat boy announced that there were half a dozen more down stairs; whereat Mr. Winkle expressed exquisite delight, and looked exquisitely uncomfortable.

See "Reading Club," No. 1, p. 56; No. 2, p. 49; No. 3, pp. 5, 38; No. 4, pp. 94, 67.

NARRATIVE.

1. Tauler the preacher walked, one autumn-day,
Without the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine,
Pondering the solemn miracle of life;
As one who, wandering in a starless night,
Feels momently the jar of unseen waves,
And hears the thunder of an unknown sea
Breaking along an unimagined shore.

2. The illustrious Spinola, upon hearing of the death of a friend, inquired of what disease he died. "Of having nothing to do," said the person who mentioned it. "Enough," said Spinola, "to kill a general." Not only the want of employment, but the want of care, often increases as well as brings on this disease.

3. Sir Isaac Newton was once examining a new and very fine globe, when a gentleman came into his study who did not believe in a God, but declared the world we live in came by chance. He was much pleased with the handsome globe, and asked, "Who made it?"—"Nobody," answered Sir Isaac: "it happened there." The gentleman looked up in amazement; but he soon understood what it meant.

See "Reading Club," No. 1, pp. 23, 73; No. 2, pp. 37, 44; No. 3, pp. 9, 99; No. 4, pp. 26, 49, 89.

DESCRIPTIVE.

1. The morn awakes, like brooding dove,
With outstretched wings of gray:
Thin, feathery clouds close in above,
And build a sober day.

No motion in the deeps of air,
No trembling in the leaves;
A still contentment everywhere,
That neither laughs nor grieves.

A shadowy veil of silvery sheen
Bedims the ocean's hue,
Save where the boat has torn between
A track of shining blue.

Dream on, dream on, O dreamy day!
The very clouds are dreams:
That cloud is dreaming far away,
And is not where it seems.

2. The broad moon lingers on the summit of Mount Olivet; but its beam has long left the garden of Gethsemane, and the tomb of Absalom, the waters of Kedron, and the dark abyss of Jehoshaphat. Full falls its splendor, however, on the opposite city, vivid and defined in its silver blaze. A lofty wall, with turrets and towers and frequent gates, undulates with the unequal ground which it covers, as it encircles the lost capital of Jehovah. It is a city of hills, far more famous than those of Rome; for all Europe has heard of Sion and of Calvary.

3. It was a fine autumnal day: the sky was clear and serene, and Nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow; while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet. Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance high in the air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech and hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals from the neighboring stubble-field.

See "Reading Club," No. 2, pp. 15, 39; No. 3, pp. 28, 97; No. 4, pp. 19, 36, 92.

DIDACTIC.

1. To teach—what is it but to learn
Each day some lesson fair or deep,
The while our hearts toward others yearn,—
The hearts that wake toward those that sleep?

To learn—what is it but to teach
By aspect, manner, silence, word,
The while we far and farther reach
Within thy treasures, O our Lord?

Then who but is a learner aye?
And who but teaches, well or ill?
Receiving, giving, day by day,—
So grows the tree, so flows the rill.

2. All professions should be liberal; and there should be less pride felt in peculiarity of employment, and more in excellence of achievement. And yet more: in each several profession no master should be too proud to do its hardest work. The painter should grind his own colors; the architect work in the mason's yard with his men; the master-manufacturer be himself a more skilful operative than any man in his mills; and the distinction between one man and another be only in experience and skill, and the authority and wealth which these must naturally and justly obtain.

3. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court?
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,
This is no flattery: these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

See "Reading Club," No. 1, p. 82; No. 2, pp. 88, 76; No. 3, p. 59.

PUBLIC ADDRESS.

1. Let not, then, the young man sit with folded hands, calling on Hercules. Thine own arm is the demigod: it was given thee to help thyself. Go forth into the world trustful, but fearless. Exalt thine adopted calling or profession. Look on labor as honorable, and dignify the task before thee, whether it be in the study, office, counting-room, work-shop, or furrowed field. There is an equality in all, and the resolute will and pure heart may ennoble either.

2. While you are gazing on that sun which is plunging into the vault of the west, another observer admires him emerging from the gilded gates of the east. By what inconceivable power does that agèd star, which is sinking fatigued and burning in the shades of the evening, re-appear at the same instant fresh and humid with the rosy dew of the morning? At every hour of the day the glorious orb is at once rising, resplendent as noonday, and setting in the west; or rather our senses deceive us, and there is, properly speaking, no east or west, no north or south, in the world.

3. In all natural and spiritual transactions, so far as they come within the sphere of human agency, there are three distinct elements: there is an element of endeavor, of mystery, and of result; in other words, there is something for man to do, there is something beyond his knowledge and control, there is something achieved by the co-operation of these two. Man sows the seed, he reaps the harvest; but between these two points occurs the middle condition of mystery. He casts the seed into the ground; he sleeps and rises night and day; but the seed springs and grows up, he knows not how: yet, when the fruit is ripe, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come. That is all he knows about it. There is something for him to do, something for him to receive; but between the doing and receiving there is a mystery.

See "Reading Club," No. 1, p. 83; No. 2, pp. 77, 79; No. 3, pp. 74, 91; No. 4, pp. 35, 53.

DECLAMATORY.

1. You speak like a boy,—like a boy who thinks the old gnarled oak can be twisted as easily as the young sapling. Can I forget that I have been branded as an outlaw, stigmatized as a traitor, a price set on my head as if I had been a wolf, my family treated as the dam and cubs of the hill-fox, whom all may torment, vilify, degrade, and insult; the very name which came to me from a long and noble line of martial ancestors denounced, as if it were a spell to conjure up the devil with?

2. I have been accused of ambition in presenting this measure,—inordinate ambition. If I had thought of myself only, I should have never brought it forward. I know well the perils to which I expose myself,—the risk of alienating faithful and valued friends, with but little prospect of making new ones (if any new ones could compensate for the loss of those we have long tried and loved), and the honest misconception both of friends and foes. Ambition!—yes, I have ambition; but it is the ambition of being the humble instrument in the hands of Providence to reconcile a divided people, once more to revive concord and harmony in a distracted land; the pleasing ambition of contemplating the glorious spectacle of a free, united, prosperous, and fraternal people.

3. Tell me, ye who tread the sods of yon sacred height, is Warren dead? Can you not still see him, not pale and prostrate, the blood of his gallant heart pouring out of his ghastly wound, but moving resplendent over the field of honor, with the rose of heaven upon his cheek, and the fire of liberty in his eye? Tell me, ye who make your pious pilgrimage to the shades of Vernon, is Washington indeed shut up in that cold and narrow house? That which made these men, and men like these, cannot die. The hand that traced the charter of Independence is indeed motionless; the eloquent lips that sustained it are hushed: but the lofty spirits that conceived, resolved, and maintained it, and which alone, to such men, "make it life to live,"—these cannot expire.

See "Reading Club," No. 1, pp. 66, 75; No. 3, pp. 50, 68, 84; No. 4, pp. 40, 55.

DRAMATIC OR EMOTIONAL.

1. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye!
I feel my heart new opened. Oh, how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors!
There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspéct of princes and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And, when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.

2. What would you have, you curs!
That like nor peace nor war? The one affrights you;
The other makes you proud. He that trusts you,
Where he should find you lions finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese. You are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,
Or hailstone in the sun.

3. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

See "Reading Club," No. 1, p. 8; No. 2, p. 28; No. 3, p. 60; No. 4, p. 14.

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PART FOUR.
HINTS ON ELOCUTION.

Practice.

If you have practised and studied the previous pages of this book, you will have gained an elementary knowledge of the science of elocution. Carlyle says, "The grand result of schooling is a mind with just vision to discern, with free force to do: the grand school-master is Practice." To make an artist of yourself in elocution requires much practice and much patience. As Longfellow says, "Art is long, and time is fleeting;" and the art of elocution is no exception to that truth.

Health.

You must have health, strength, and elasticity of body; and, to get and keep these, obey the laws of life as to exercise, rest, pure air, good food, and temperance in all things. Avoid all stimulants, or tobacco in any form. Practise any gymnastics that shall help to make you strong and sprightly, but especially the physical gymnastics here given, as they are designed to benefit the muscles used in speaking.

Position.

When you stand to speak, the first thing that strikes your audience is the position you assume. Therefore be careful to assume and keep the speaker's position until some other position is needed for expression; and return to the speaker's position, as the one which is an active position, but gives the idea of repose and confidence, without that disagreeable self-consciousness which to an audience is disgusting. While you are speaking, avoid all swaying or motion of body, unless it means something.

Bowing.

Do not bow too quickly, but do it with dignity, and respect to your audience, first with a general, quick glance of the eye about you. Bend the body at the hip-joints; let the back bend a little, and the head more than the body. Do not bow too low, nor be stiff in your movements.

Holding book.

How to hold the book has been shown in Part One; and you will find that to be the position that strikes the audience most favorably, and gives an impression of ease, which goes a great way towards making the audience enjoy your reading.

Articulation.

When you speak, it is for the purpose of making yourself understood. And to do this you must articulate perfectly; that is, give a clear and correct utterance every element in a word. | Pronunciation.|You must also pronounce properly,—that is, accent the proper syllable in a word; and, to find out what the proper syllable is, refer to Webster's or Worcester's large Dictionary (Worcester being preferable), and find out for yourself. | Emphasis.| You must also give the right phrasing, subordinating all other phrases to the principal one, and remembering that the emphatic word of your sentence is the emphatic word of the important phrase. The emphatic word is usually brought out by inflection and added force; but it may be made emphatic by particular stress, or a pause before it or after it, or both before and after, or by a change of quality. Your own common sense will tell you when these may be proper and effective and natural.

Fulness and power.

You must also make your audience hear you; and this requires, not a loud, high-pitched voice, but—unless dramatic expression requires otherwise—your middle or conversational pitch, with fulness of voice, that shall give you power. Your own mind will regulate this for you, if you will direct your attention to the persons in the back part of the hall, and speak in middle pitch, so that they may hear. | Avoid high pitch.| Many speakers make the mistake of using a high pitch, and render their speech very ineffective by so doing. You will call to mind the fact, that, when we say we cannot hear a speaker, it is not that we do not hear the sound of his voice, but that we cannot understand the words. Bearing this in mind, you will see that perfect articulation is what is wanted, and that fulness added to your voice in middle pitch will make the voice reach, will require less effort, and will produce better effect.

Feeling.

Having made your audience understand and hear, you must then make them feel. To do this as public reader, actor, clergyman, lawyer, teacher, orator, lecturer, you must yourself feel what you have to say, and, forgetting every thing else in your subject, concentrate your whole being in your utterance and action. Then you will be effective, and you will carry your audience with you. And you will fail in proportion as you fail to lose your own personality in your subject. "The heart giveth grace unto every art;" and of no art is this more true than of elocution. You may have all the graces of elocution which practice will give you; yet, in the effect these will produce,—if the will, acting alone, not being guided by mind and heart, prompts the utterance,—something will be lacking, of which learned and unlearned alike will be conscious.

Be natural.

"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin," and cultivated and uncultivated alike will feel it; and this "touch of nature" you will show if you enter into what you have to say with mind, heart, and soul. Your voice will vary in all the elements of emotional expression, and you will be natural.

Mechanical speaking.

When speaking in public, do not try to remember the first rule of elocution. Leave it all behind you when you come before the audience. Speak from your thought and feeling, and be sure you are thoroughly familiar with what you have to say. Be sure you understand it yourself before you try to make others understand. | Words without meaning.|You can read words, calling them off mechanically, or you can speak words from memory very mechanically, and not have a clear idea of the meaning the words convey while you speak them. But do not do this. Always think the thought, as you read or speak, in the same manner as you would if speaking extempore. You can express your thought clearly by thinking it as you speak; but at the same time there may be no expression of emotion. | Thought without feeling.| You may have thought without feeling; but you must impress your thought by feeling. When you read, your mind gets the thought through the words, and from that thought comes feeling; but, when you speak your own thoughts, the feeling creates the thought. In reading, you think, and then feel; but, in speaking your thought, you feel, and then think. When you read, then, or speak from memory, if you will let thought create feeling before you speak, you will avoid mechanical reading and speaking, and be effective in conveying the thought and feeling both together.

Feeling without thought.

You can convey emotion without a definite thought; and this is as bad as either words without meaning, or thought without feeling. This arousing the feelings without guiding them by definite thought is the province of the art of music. Elocution is superior to music for the reason that it guides both thought and feeling, for certainly it is better that mind and feeling should work together, than either alone.

Emotion in song or speech.

The elements of emotional expression are alike in speech and song. In each you have quality, time, force, and pitch. The variation of these elements makes expression of feeling; and each sound you make contains all these elements. It has a certain quality; it has more or less of force; it is relatively high or low in pitch, it takes a longer or shorter time. | Variety in expression.| The more you vary in the elements of emotional expression, the better the effect, provided the variation is caused by the variation of your feeling, and not by any artificiality, or seeming to express what you do not feel.

Quality.
Force.
Pitch.
Time.

The quality of voice, its purity or harshness, its aspiration, &c., will vary with the kind of feeling; the degree of force will vary according to the intensity of feeling; the pitch will be according to what we may call the height or depth of your feeling; the movement, or time, will be according as the emotion is quick or slow. After having cultivated the voice well in these elements of emotional expression, your own common sense ought to be your best guide in the application of them to reading and speaking. You, for the time being, should be the author of what you read. "Put yourself in his place," and express as you feel that he felt while writing it.

Feeling without expression.

It is possible for you to feel intense emotion, and not be capable of properly expressing it, so as to make others feel it. You may not have had training that will give you command of sound and motion, those channels of expression through which the body is made to obey mind and soul, and express their thought and feeling. | No expression without feeling.| It is impossible to express, even with the best cultivation, what, at the moment of utterance, you do not feel: therefore you must sink your own personality in your subject; and, according to your conception, so will you express.

Reserve power.

All apparent effort must be avoided; that is, in the expression of the strongest passion or emotion, you must not give the audience the slightest indication of want of power. You will give that impression if you try to express more than you actually feel. In emotional expression it must seem as if it overflowed because of excess, and you could hardly control it; but you must never lose control of it. This control will give the audience the impression that you feel more than you express, and is what is called reserved power. If—your well of emotion not being overflowingly full—you use a force-pump, or, in other words, your will-power, to make it overflow, you will fail in expression.

How to get reserve power.

How are you to get this, you ask. By study and long practice. As you plainly see, it involves a perfect command over the feelings; and "he that ruleth his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city." Conquer yourself. All art, elocution included, is but a means of expression for man's thoughts and feelings; and, if you have no thought or feeling to express, art is useless to you.

Breathing.

Do not let your audience be reminded that you breathe at all. Take breath quietly through nostrils or mouth, or both. Form the habit of keeping the chest, while speaking, active, as recommended in all vocal exercises; and the breath will flow in unobstructed whenever needed. Breathe as nearly as possible as you would if you were not speaking, that is, do not interfere with right action of the lungs. The instant you feel a want of breath, take it: if you do not, you will injure your lungs; and what you say, feeling that want of breath, will lack power. The more breath you have, so that it does not feel uncomfortable and can be well controlled, the more power you will have: therefore practise breathing until you breathe rightly and easily.

Throat trouble.

If your general health is good, your throat will be well; and therefore pay attention to the general health of the whole body, and the throat will take care of itself. If, when you come before an audience, your throat and mouth are dry, use only clear, cold water, not ice-water: that is too cold. Avoid candy or throat-lozenges; for the use of either of these is worse than if you used nothing at all. If you have a cold or sore throat, you had better not use your voice; but, if you must use it, keep it clear by clear water. A healthy throat will not need even water: it will moisten itself after a little use, if at first it is dry.

Pausing.

Deliberate movement and frequent pausing are very expressive in some cases. Where it is applicable may be determined by what you have to express. Pausing in its appropriate place makes emphasis strong. | Punctuation.| Let the pause be regulated, however, by the feeling, and not all by the punctuation. Express according to your conception of the thought. Punctuation may be a guide to you in obtaining the right idea; but it is no guide to correct expression. Pausing, generally, comes naturally either before or after, or both before and after, the emphatic word or phrase.

Poetry.

Speak or read poetry with the same care and attention to phrasing that you would give to prose, and you will avoid all drawling, monotony, or sing-song. In order that the rhyme in poetry may be preserved, the pronunciation of a word may be changed from common usage, if, by so doing, you do not obscure the meaning; but never sacrifice the meaning for the sake of the rhyme. In good poetry, which includes blank verse, the metrical movement will show itself without any attempt on your part to make it prominent.

Stage fright.

You may feel, when you first come before an audience, a shrinking, or faintness of feeling, such as is known to actors as "stage fright." It probably arises from a very sensitive, nervous organization; and, other things being equal, persons of this character make the best speakers. As to the real cause of this feeling, as Lord Dundreary says, "It's one of those things no fellah can find out." But, whatever its cause, you can overcome it by strong will-power and self-possession; and, after a time, you will become used to appearance in public, and that will establish the "confidence of habit." Some of the best orators and actors that ever lived have had "stage fright;" and some of them, so far as we know, never had it. So you must not flatter yourself that this is a certain indication of your power. It takes much more than a tendency to "stage fright" to make a powerful speaker.

Reading.
Speaking.
Recitation.

Whether you are reading from a book or paper, reciting from memory, or speaking extempore your own thought, you should do all as you would the latter, so that a blind man, who could not judge which you were doing except by the sound of your voice, would be unable to tell. In committing to memory for recitation, you will remember more easily if you will pick out the emphatic words of the sentences in their order, and commit them, as they contain an outline of the succession of thought and meaning.

Action.

The look upon the face, the gestures of the arm, the attitude of the body, all speak the language of emotion as plainly to the eye as elocution proper does to the ear. This action will be prompted by the feelings, as the voice is; and it will be expressive or not, it will be appropriate or not, it will be graceful or not, according as you have natural or acquired ability. Natural ability will be much aided by a knowledge and practice of gesture as a language, and much may be acquired by any one with practice.

Look.
Gesture.
Attitude.

I have said nothing of action in the previous pages, as this book treats of expression through the voice, or elocution. A few words here upon the subject will not be out of place. When you read, you should ordinarily make your voice express much, and use gesture sparingly, but, if you feel prompted to make gestures, never do so while the eye rests on the book. Look either at the audience, or as may be indicated by the gesture. When you recite, or speak extempore, you can add much to the expression by look, gesture, and attitude. In natural expression the face will first light up, and show feeling; and the attitude and gesture follow more or less quickly, according to the feeling; and then comes speech. And all these must express alike. For the face to be expressionless, or to express one thing while the speech and gesture say another thing, is in effect ludicrous.

Motion without meaning.

Remember that all motions and attitudes have meaning; and, when no other gesture or attitude is called for to express some feeling, stand perfectly still in the speaker's position before mentioned, that being an active, and at the same time a neutral position. Don't move, unless you mean something by it. Don't sway the body, or nod the head, or shrug the shoulders, or move the feet, or make motions or gestures, unless the proper expression call for it, and your emotion prompts.

The eye.

The eye is particularly effective in expression, as there the emotion first shows itself; and by it you can get and keep the attention of your audience. In reading, keep your eye off the book as much as possible, and on your audience. In recitation or extempore speaking, look at your audience. The eye leads in gesture, and, in many cases, looks in the direction of the gesture. In personation of character, as in dramatic scenes, your eye must look at those to whom you are supposed to be speaking, as, in common conversation, you usually look at the person to whom you speak. Never look in an undecided way, as if you did not have a purpose in looking, but look in the face and eyes of your audience when emotional expression does not require you to look elsewhere.

Gesture.

When you don't wish to use your arm for gesture, let it hang naturally at the side. When the emotion calls for gesture, make it with decision, and let the gesture continue as long as you utter words explaining the meaning of the gesture. Gesture always comes before words, more or less quickly, as may be the kind of emotion. Usually, if the words are quickly spoken, the gesture will be quickly made, and the words will be spoken almost at instant of the gesture. If the words move slow, the gesture will move slow, and there may be a perceptible pause between the gesture and words. | No rules for gesture.| No stated rules for gesture can be given; for they are as infinite in number and variety as the emotions they express. You will find, however, that gesture may be regulated, as emotional expression of voice is, by means of your intensity of thought and feeling, guided by common sense, and aided by genius. Gesture is a science and art, which, as in speech and song, has elements of emotional expression; and these elements correspond in each. You have in gesture (as said of the others) quality or kind of gesture, force or intensity in gesture, time or the degree of movement in gesture, and pitch, or relative height and depth; and all these have a meaning something like the corresponding elements of song, or speech, or other arts. Long and hard study and practice will be necessary to perfection in this, as in all arts. A graceful habit of gesture, an appropriate expression of eye and face, united to a voice full-toned, musical, and varying in all shades of emotional expression,—what is there more captivating to eye and ear, more pleasing to the senses, more instructive to the mind, more moving to the emotions, if only it is, as Mendelssohn says of all art, expressive of lofty thought? "Every art can elevate itself above a mere handicraft only by being devoted to the expression of lofty thought."