The people of all nations, through their eyesight, form the same conception of an object; the same being impressed upon all minds in the same manner. When a picture thus impressed upon the mind (brain) is reproduced by, or is translated into, vocal utterance, it continues to remain the same with all people. This does not refer to impressions made by material objects alone, but extends to immaterial subjects as well. Hence, knowing the meaning of a word in one language, we can at once conjure up the idea it represents in all languages.
The sight, however, not only impresses our minds through the eye with a given picture, but, as there is a correlation existing between all our faculties, it also impresses the voice with a given inflection, expressive of such impression upon the mind, and of no other impression; any given sight or mental conception of any kind always producing an inflection of the voice corresponding therewith. The vocal expression of an idea might thus be called an audible "photographic" reproduction of the impression made by the original object upon the eyesight, and, respectively, upon the brain, or it might be called a phonographic reproduction thereof, supposing that the picture of an object could be impressed upon the wax and could thus become audible. How such a reproduction may be made from an immaterial subject would be more difficult to comprehend. Of the fact, however, that an impression from abstract subjects is made, and that an audible expression of such impression is produced through the voice, and that this is the case with all people alike, I expect to furnish positive proof in a future publication. The fact of our not being accustomed to distinguish in this manner between various expressions through inflections of the voice is no proof that they do not exist.
The soul impresses every word with a seal of its own, characteristic of the idea it embodies, there being as many accents or inflections of the voice as there are separate ideas, or, rather, groups of ideas. I beg leave to copy the following from the Saturday Evening Post of April 8, 1899:
"Mr. Kipling recently told an interviewer: 'We write, it is true, in letters of the alphabet; but, psychologically regarded, every printed page is a picture book; every word, concrete or abstract, is a picture. The picture itself may never come to the reader's consciousness, but deep down below, in the unconscious realms, the picture works and influences us.'"
The accent is not subject to the will any more than the rhythm. The will can do this, however: it can give greater weight, force, and expression, and a wider scope, to the correlated forces of metre, rhythm, and accent, through the
Emphasis which it infuses into them. Through the emphasis, inlet upon inlet is opened, an additional stream of fresh air is infused into them, flooding the spiritual system. Valve upon valve is then opened to let it out. Hence, emphasis is not an "element" of speech proper, but an amplification, an addition to existing elements, rather, impregnating them with the life of the heart, the feelings, the emotions.
In distinguishing in this manner, as I have in the above, between the will, the mind, and the soul, I consider them parts of a great spiritual system intimately connected with corresponding parts of our physical system, but lay no claim as to the correctness of the terms I have used. On the contrary, I feel that they are inadequate, and, at most, a makeshift for more fitting expressions. There is a dearth of expressional terms, and I am doing the best I can with such as are at my disposal.
In the same sense, also, I distinguish between material-spiritual, spiritual-material, and spiritual issues; and consider them the outcome, respectively, of the will, the mind, and the soul.
I wish it were in my power to at once fully explain, as far as I am able to offer any explanation at all, how it is mechanically possible to express these four elements of metre, rhythm, accent, and emphasis (so widely differing from each other) at one and the same time, by four different modes of breathing, carried on simultaneously, in addition to our regular mode of breathing. The perfection of elocution and of singing is to carry on all these various processes simultaneously in as perfect a manner as the subject and the occasion may demand.