Produced by Distributed Proofreaders
Delsarte System of Oratory
1. The Complete Work of L'Abbé Delaumosne
2. The Complete Work of Mme. Angélique Arnaud
3. All the Literary Remains of François Delsarte
(Given in his own words)
4. The Lecture and Lessons Given by Mme. Marie
Géraldy (Delsarte's Daughter) in America
5. Articles by Alfred Giraudet, Francis A. Durivage,
and Hector Berlioz
Fourth Edition
New York
Edgar S. Werner
1893
Copyright
By Edgar S. Werner
1882, 1884, 1887, 1892
Contents.
Delaumosne On Delsarte.
Biographical Sketch
Preface
Part First.
Voice.
Chapter I.
Preliminary Ideas--Criterion of the Oratorical Art.
Chapter II. Of The Voice.
Organic Apparatus of the Voice--The Voice in Relation to
Compass--The Voice in Relation to Vowels--Practical Conclusions
Chapter III. The Voice in Relation to Intensity of Sound.
What is Understood by Intensity of Sound--Means of Augmenting the
Timbre of the Voice--Rules for Intensity of Sound
Chapter IV.
The Voice in Relation to Measure.
Of Slowness and Rapidity in Oratorical Delivery--Of Respiration and
Silence--Inflections--Rules of Inflection--Special Inflections
Part Second.
Gesture.
Chapter I. Of Gesture in General
Chapter II. Definition and Division of Gesture.
Gesture is the Direct Agent of the Heart--Gesture is the Interpreter
of Speech--Gesture is an Elliptical Language
Chapter III. Origin and Oratorical Value of Gesture
Chapter IV. The Laws of Gesture.
The Priority of Gesture to Speech--Retroaction--Opposition of
Agents--Number of Gestures--Duration of Gesture--The Rhythm of
Gesture--Importance of the Laws of Gesture
Chapter V. Of Gesture in Particular.
The Head--Movements of the head: The Normal State, The Eccentric
State, The Concentric State--Of the Eyes--Of the Eyebrows
Chapter VI. Of The Torso.
The Chest--The Shoulders.
Chapter VII. Of The Limbs.
The Arms--Inflections of the Forearm--Of the Elbow--Of the Wrist--Of
the Hand: The Digital Face, The Back Face, The Palmar Face--Of the
Fingers--Of the Legs.
Chapter VIII. Of the Semeiotic, or the Reason of Gesture.
The Types which Characterize Gesture--Of Gesture Relative to its
Modifying Apparatus
Chapter IX. Of Gesture in Relation to the Figures Which Represent It.
Part Third. Articulate Language.
Chapter I. Origin and Organic Apparatus of Language.
Chapter II. Elements of Articulate Language.
Chapter III. The Oratorical Value of Speech.
Chapter IV. The Value of Words in Phrases.
The Conjunction--The Interjection in Relation to its Degree of
Value--A Resumé of the Degrees of Value
Chapter V. French and Latin Prosody
Chapter VI. Method.
Dictation Exercises
Chapter VII. A Series Of Gestures For Exercises.
Preliminary Reflections--The Series of Gestures Applied to the
Sentiments Oftenest Expressed by the Orator: (1) Interpellation; (2)
Thanks, Affectionate and Ceremonious; (3) Attraction; (4) Surprise
and Assurance; (5) Devotion; (6) Interrogative Surprise; (7)
Reiterated Interrogation; (8) Anger; (9) Menace; (10) An Order for
Leaving; (11) Reiteration; (12) Fright--Important Remarks
Appendix
Epilogue
Arnaud On Delsarte.
Part Fourth.
Chapter I. The Bases of the Science
Chapter II. The Method.
Ellipsis--Shades and Inflections--Vocal Music--Respiration--Position
of the Tone--Preparation of the Initial Consonant--Exercises--
Appoggiatura--Roulades and Martellato--Pronunciation--E mute before a
Consonant--E mute before a Vowel.
Chapter III. Was Delsarte a Philosopher?
Chapter IV. Course of Applied Æsthetics.
Meeting of the Circle of Learned Societies--Theory of the Degrees.
Chapter V. The Recitation of Fables.
Chapter VI. The Law of Æsthetics.
Chapter VII. The Elements of Art.
The True. The Good. The Beautiful.
Chapter VIII. Application of the Law to Various Arts.
Dramatic, Lyric and Oratorical Art.
Application of the Law to Literature.
Application of the Law to Architecture.
Application of the Law to Sculpture.
Application of the Law to Painting.
Chapter IX. Delsarte's Beginnings.
Chapter X. Delsarte's Theatre and School.
Chapter XI. Delsarte's Family.
Chapter XII. Delsarte's Religion.
Chapter XIII. Delsarte's Friends.
Chapter XIV. Delsarte's Scholars.
Chapter XV. Delsarte's Musical Compositions.
Chapter XVI. Delsarte's Evening Lectures.
Chapter XVII. Delsarte's Inventions.
Chapter XVIII. Delsarte before the Philotechnic Association.
Chapter XIX. Delsarte's Last Years.
Literary Remains Of François Delsarte.
Part Fifth.
Publisher's Note.
Delsarte's Last Letter To The King Of Hanover
Episode I.
Episode II.
Episode III.
Episode IV.
Episode V.
Semeiotics of the Shoulder.
Episode VI.
Episode VII.
What I Propose.
The Beautiful.
Trinity.
Reversal of Processional Relations.
Passion of Signs, Signs of Passion.
Definition of Form.
On Distinction and Vulgarity of Motion.
Gesture.
Definition of Gesture.
Attitudes of the Head.
Attitudes of the Hands.
Affirmation of the Hand.
Table of the Normal Character of the Nine Attitudes.
Attitudes of the Legs.
The Holy Trinity Recovered in Sound.
Speech.
Breathing.
Vocal Respiration.
Logical Respiration.
Passional Respiration.
Vocal Organ.
Definition Of The Voice.
What the Register is.
On Shading.
Pathetic Effects.
On the Tearing of the Voice.
Number.
Medallion of Inflection.
The Nature of the Colors of Each Circle in the Color Charts.
The Attributes of Reason.
Random Notes.
Part Sixth.
The Lecture and Lessons Given by Mme. Marie Géraldy (Delsarte's
Daughter) in America.
Part Seventh.
Article by Alfred Giraudet.
Article by Francis A. Durivage.
Article by Hector Berlioz.
Delaumosne On Delsarte.
The Delsarte System,
by
M. l'Abbe Delaumosne,
(_Pupil of Delsarte._)
Translated by Frances A. Shaw.
François Delsarte.
François Delsarte was born November 11, 1811, at Solesme, a little town
of the Department of the North, in France. His father, who was a
renowned physician and the author of several inventions, might have
secured a fortune for his family, had he been more anxious for the
morrow, but he died in a state bordering upon poverty.
In 1822, François was apprenticed to a porcelain painter of Paris, but,
yielding to a taste and aptitude for music, in the year 1825, he sought
and obtained admission to the Conservatory as a pensioner. Here a great
trial awaited him--a trial which wrecked his musical career, but was a
decided gain for his genius. He had been placed in the vocal classes,
and in consequence of faults in method and direction, he lost his voice.
He was inconsolable, but, without making light of his sorrow, we may
count that loss happy, which gave the world its first law-giver in the
art of oratory.
The young student refused to accept this calamity without making one
final effort to retrieve it. He presented himself at the musical contest
of 1829. His impaired voice rendered success impossible, but kind words
from influential friends in a great measure compensated for defeat.
The celebrated Nourrit said to him: "I have given you my vote for the
first prize, and my children shall have no singing-master but you."
"Courage," said Madame Malibran, pressing his hand. "You will one day be
a great artist."
But Delsarte knew that without a voice he must renounce the stage, and
yielding to the inevitable, he gave up the role of the actor to assume
the functions of the professor. After his own shipwreck upon a bark
without pilot or compass, he summoned up courage to search into the laws
of an art which had hitherto subsisted only upon caprice and personal
inspiration.
After several years of diligent study, he discovered and formulated the
essential laws of all art; and, thanks to him, æsthetic science in our
day has the same precision as mathematical science. He had numerous
pupils, many of whom have become distinguished in various public
careers--in the pulpit, at the bar, on the stage, and at the tribune.
Madame Sontag, when she wished to interpret Gluck's music, chose
Delsarte for her teacher. Rachel drew inspiration from his counsels, and
he became her guardian of the sacred fire. He was urgently solicited to
appear with her at the Théâtre-Français, but religious scruples led him
to refuse the finest offers.
Madame de Giradin (Delphine Gay), surnamed the Muse of her country,
welcomed him gladly to her salon, then the rendezvous of the world of
art and letters, and regretted not seeing him oftener. He was more than
once invited to the literary sessions of Juilly college, and, under the
spell of his diction, the pupils became animated by a new ardor for
study.
Monseigneur Sibour had great esteem and affection for Delsarte, and made
him his frequent guest. It was in the salon of this art-loving
archbishop that Delsarte achieved one of his most brilliant triumphs.
All the notable men of science had gathered there, and the conversation
took such a turn that Delsarte found opportunity to give, without
offence, a challenge in these two lines of Racine:
_L'onde approche, se brise, et vomit à nos yeux,
Parmi des flots d'écume, un monstre furieux._
("The wave draws near, it breaks, and casts before our eyes,
Amid the floods of foam, a monster grim and dire.")
"Please tell me the most emphatic and significant word here," said
Delsarte.
All reflected, sought out and then gave, each in turn, his chosen word.
Every word was selected save the conjunction _et_ (and). No one thought
of that.
Delsarte then rose, and in a calm and modest, but triumphant tone, said:
"The significant, emphatic word is the only one which has escaped you.
It is the conjunction _and_, whose elliptic sense leaves us in
apprehension of that which is about to happen." All owned themselves
vanquished, and applauded the triumphant artist.
Donoso Cortés made Delsarte a chosen confidant of his ideas. One day,
when the great master of oratorical diction had recited to him the _Dies
Irae_, the illustrious philosopher, in an access of religious emotion,
begged that this hymn might be chanted at his funeral. Delsarte promised
it, and he kept his word.
When invited to the court of Louis Philippe, he replied: "I am not a
court buffoon." When a generous compensation was hinted at, he answered:
"I do not sell my loves." When it was urged that the occasion was a
birth-day fête to be given his father by the Duke of Orleans, he
accepted the invitation upon three conditions, thus stated by himself:
"1st. I shall be the only singer; 2d. I shall have no accompaniment but
the opera chorus; 3d. I shall receive no compensation." The conditions
were assented to, and Delsarte surpassed himself. The king paid him such
marked attentions that M. Ingres felt constrained to say: "One might
declare in truth that it is Delsarte who is king of France."
Delsarte's reputation had passed the frontier. The king of Hanover
committed to his instruction the greatest musical artiste of his realm,
and was so gratified with her improvement that, wishing to recompense
the professor, he sent him the much prized Hanoverian medal of arts and
sciences, accompanied by a letter from his own royal hand. Delsarte
afterwards received from the same king the cross of a Chevalier of the
Guelph order.
Delsarte's auditors were not the only ones to sound his praises. The
learned reviews extolled his merits. Such writers as Laurentie, Riancey,
Lamartine and Théophile Gautier awarded him the most enthusiastic
praise. Posterity will perpetuate his fame.
M. Laurentie writes: "I heard Delsarte recite one evening '_Iphigenia's
Dream_,' which the audience had besought of him. The hall remained
thrilled and breathless under this impaired and yet sovereign voice. All
yielded in rapt astonishment to the spell. There was no prestige, no
theatrical illusion. Iphigenia was a professor in a black frock coat;
the orchestra was a piano, giving forth here and there an unexpected
modulation. This was his whole force; yet the hall was mute, hearts
beat, tears flowed from many eyes, and when the recital ended,
enthusiastic shouts arose, as if Iphigenia in person had just recounted
her terrors."
After Delsarte had gathered so abundant a harvest of laurels, fate
decided that he had lived long enough. When he had reached his sixtieth
year, he was attacked by hypertrophy of the heart, which left his rich
organization in ruins. He was no longer the artist of graceful, supple,
expressive and harmonious movements; no longer the thinker with profound
and luminous ideas. But in the midst of this physical and intellectual
ruin, the Christian sentiment retained its strong, sweet energy. A
believer in the sacraments which he had received in days of health, he
asked for them in the hour of danger, and many times he partook of that
sacrament of love whose virtue he had taught so well.
Finally, after having lingered for months in a state that was neither
life nor death, surrounded by his pious wife, and his weeping, praying
children, he rendered his soul to God on the 20th of July, 1871.
Delsarte never could be persuaded to write anything upon themes foreign
to those connected with his musical and vocal work. The author of this
volume desires to save from oblivion the most wonderful conception of
this superior intellect: his _Course of Æsthetic Oratory_. He dares
promise to be a faithful interpreter. If excuse be needed for
undertaking a task so delicate, he replies that he addresses himself to
a class of readers who will know how to appreciate his motives.
The merit of Delsarte, the honor of his family, the gratification of his
numerous friends, the interests of science, the claims of friendship,
demand that this light should not be left under a bushel, but placed
upon a candlestick--this light which has shed so brilliant a glow, and
enriched the arts with a new splendor.
Preface.
Orators, you are called to the ministry of speech. You have fixed your
choice upon the pulpit, the bar, the tribune or the stage. You will
become one day, preacher, advocate, lecturer or actor; in short, you
desire to embrace the orator's career. I applaud your design. You will
enter upon the noblest and most glorious of vocations. Eloquence holds
the first rank among the arts. While we award praise and glory to great
musicians and painters, to great masters of sculpture and architecture,
the prize of honor is decreed to great orators.
Who can define the omnipotence of speech? With a few brief words God
called the universe from nothingness; speech falling from the glowing
lips of the Apostles, has changed the face of the earth. The current of
opinion follows the prestige of speech, and to-day, as ever, eloquence
is universal queen. We need feel no surprise that, in ancient times, the
multitude uncovered as Cicero approached, and cried: "Behold the
orator!"
Would you have your speech bear fruit and command honor? Two qualities
are needful: virtue and a knowledge of the art of oratory. Cicero has
defined the orator as a good man of worth: _Vir bonus, dicendi peritus_.
Then, above all, the orator should be a man of worth. Such a man will
make it his purpose to do good; and the good is the true end of
oratorical art. In truth, what is art? Art is the expression of the
beautiful in ideas; it is the true. Plato says the beautiful is the
splendor of the true.
What is art? It is the beautiful in action. It is the good. According to
St. Augustine, the beautiful is the lustre of the good.
Finally, what is art? It is the beautiful in the harmonies of nature.
Galen, when he had finished his work on the structure of the human body,
exclaimed: "Behold this beautiful hymn to the glory of the Creator!"
What, then, is the true, the beautiful, the good? We might answer, it is
God. Then virtue and the glory of God should be the one end of the
orator, of the good man. A true artist never denies God.
Eloquence is a means, not an end. We must not love art for its own sake,
that would be idolatry. Art gives wings for ascent to God. One need not
pause to contemplate his wings.
Art is an instrument, but not an instrument of vanity or complaisance.
Truth, alas! compels us to admit that eloquence has also the melancholy
power of corrupting souls. Since it is an art, it is also a power which
must produce its effect for good or evil.
It has been said that the fool always finds a greater fool to listen to
him. We might add that the false, the ugly and the vicious have each a
fibre in the human heart to serve their purpose. Then let the true
orator, the good man, armed with holy eloquence, seek to paralyze the
fatal influence of those orators who are apostles of falsehood and
corruption.
Poets are born, orators are made: _nascuntur poetae, fiunt oratores_.
You understand why I have engraved this maxim on the title-page of my
work. It contains its _raison d'être_, its justification. Men are poets
at birth, but eloquence is an art to be taught and learned. All art
presupposes rules, procedures, a mechanism, a method which must be
known.
We bring more or less aptitude to the study of an art, but every
profession demands a period more or less prolonged. We must not count
upon natural advantages; none are perfect by nature. Humanity is
crippled; beauty exists only in fragments. Perfect beauty is nowhere to
be found; the artist must create it by synthetic work.
You have a fine voice, but be certain it has its defects. Your
articulation is vicious, and the gestures upon which you pride yourself,
are, in most cases, unnatural. Do not rely upon the fire of momentary
inspiration. Nothing is more deceptive. The great Garrick said: "I do
not depend upon that inspiration which idle mediocrity awaits." Talma
declared that he absolutely calculated all effects, leaving nothing to
chance. While he recited the scene between Augustus and Cinna, he was
also performing an arithmetical operation. When he said:
"Take a chair, Cinna, and in everything
Closely observe the law I bid you heed"--
he made his audience shudder.
The orator should not even think of what he is doing. The thing should
have been so much studied, that all would seem to flow of itself from
the fountain.
But where find this square, this intellectual compass, that traces for
us with mathematical precision, that line of gestures beyond which the
orator must not pass? I have sought it for a long time, but in vain.
Here and there one meets with advice, sometimes good but very often
bad. For example, you are told that the greater the emotion, the
stronger should be the voice. Nothing is more false. In violent emotion
the heart seems to fill the larynx and the voice is stifled. In all such
counsels it behooves us to search out their foundation, the reason that
is in them, to ask if there is a type in nature which serves as their
measure.
We hear a celebrated orator. We seek to recall, to imitate his
inflections and gestures. We adopt his mannerisms, and that is all. We
see these mannerisms everywhere, but the true type is nowhere.
After much unavailing search, I at last had the good fortune to meet a
genuine master of eloquence. After giving much study to the masterpieces
of painting and sculpture, after observing the living man in all his
moods and expressions, he has known how to sum up these details and
reduce them to laws. This great artist, this unrivaled master, was the
pious, the amiable, the lamented Delsarte.
There certainly was pleasure and profit in hearing this master of
eloquence, for he excelled in applying his principles to himself. Still
from his teachings, even from the dead letter of them, breaks forth a
light which reveals horizons hitherto unknown.
This work might have been entitled: _Philosophy of Oratorical Art_, for
one cannot treat of eloquence without entering the domain of the highest
philosophy.
What, in fact, is oratorical art? It is the means of expressing the
phenomena of the soul by the play of the organs. It is the sum total of
rules and laws resulting from the reciprocal action of mind and body.
Thus man must be considered in his sensitive, intellectual and moral
state, with the play of the organs corresponding to these states. Our
teaching has, then, for its basis the science of the soul ministered to
by the organs. This is why we present the fixed, invariable rules which
have their sanction in philosophy. This can be rendered plain by an
exposition of our method.
The art of oratory, we repeat, is expressing mental phenomena by the
play of the physical organs. It is the translation, the plastic form,
the language of human nature. But man, the image of God, presents
himself to us in three phases: the sensitive, intellectual and moral.
Man feels, thinks and loves. He is _en rapport_ with the physical world,
with the spiritual world, and with God. He fulfils his course by the
light of the senses, the reason, or the light of grace.
We call life the sensitive state, mind the intellectual state, and soul
the moral state. Neither of these three terms can be separated from the
two others. They interpenetrate, interlace, correspond with and
embrace each other. Thus mind supposes soul and life. Soul is at the
same time mind and life. In fine, life is inherent in mind and soul.
Thus these three primitive moods of the soul are distinguished by nine
perfectly adequate terms. The soul being the form of the body, the body
is made in the image of the soul. The human body contains three
organisms to translate the triple form of the soul.
The phonetic machinery, the voice, sound, inflections, are living
language. The child, as yet devoid of intelligence and sentiment,
conveys his emotions through cries and moans.
The myologic or muscular machinery, or gesture, is the language of
sentiment and emotion. When the child recognizes its mother, it begins
to smile.
The buccal machinery, or articulate speech, is the language of the
mind.
Man, neither by voice nor gesture, can express two opposite ideas on the
same subject; this necessarily involves a resort to speech. Human
language is composed of gesture, speech and singing. The ancient
melodrama owed its excellence to a union of these three languages.
Each of these organisms takes the eccentric, concentric, or normal form,
according to the different moods of the soul which it is called to
translate.
In the sensitive state, the soul lives outside itself; it has relations
with the exterior world. In the intellectual state, the soul turns back
upon itself, and the organism obeys this movement. Then ensues a
contraction in all the agents of the organism. This is the concentric
state. In the moral or mystic state, the soul, enraptured with God,
enjoys perfect tranquility and blessedness. All breathes peace,
quietude, serenity. This is the normal state,--the most perfect,
elevated and sublime expression of which the organism is capable.
Let us not forget that by reason of a constant transition, each state
borrows the form of its kindred state. Thus the normal state can take
the concentric and eccentric form, and become at the same time, doubly
normal; that is, normal to the highest degree. Since each state can take
the form of the two others, the result is nine distinct gestures, which
form that marvelous accord of nine, which we call the universal
criterion.
In fine, here is the grand law of organic gymnastics:
The triple movement, the triple language of the organs is eccentric,
concentric, or normal, according as it is the expression of life, soul
or spirit.
Under the influence, the occult inspiration of this law, the great
masters have enriched the world with miracles of art. Aided by this law
the course followed in this work, may be easily understood.
Since eloquence is composed of three languages, we divide this work into
three books in which voice, gesture and speech are studied by turns.
Then, applying to them the great law of art, our task is accomplished.
The advantages of this method are easily understood. There is given a
type of expression not taken from the individual, but from human nature
synthetized. Thus the student will not have the humiliation of being the
slave or ape of any particular master. He will be only himself. Those
who assimilate their imperfect natures to the perfect type will become
orators. _Fiunt Oratores._
Success having attended the first efforts, let the would-be orator
assimilate these rules, and his power will be doubled, aye increased a
hundredfold. And thus having become an orator, a man of principle, who
knows how to speak well, he will aid in the triumph of religion, justice
and virtue.
Part First.
Voice
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:
1. To understand the general law which controls the movements of the
organs;
2. To apply this general law to the movements of each particular organ;
3. To understand the meaning of the form of each of these movements;
4. 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.
GENUS. SPECIES.
1 3 2
II. Conc. 1-II 3-II 2-II
Ecc. Conc. Norm. Conc. Conc. Conc.
III. Norm. 1-III 3-III 2-III
Ecc. Norm. Norm. Norm. Conc. Norm.
I. Ecc. 1-I 3-I 2-I
Ecc. Ecc. Norm. Ecc. Conc. Ecc.
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-eccentric_ form.
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:
A
Á 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.
---------------------
O O
---------------------
_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:
1. By the determination of its pitch;
2. By practicing the vocal scale;
3. 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:--
1. After all words preceded or followed by an ellipse;
2. After words used in apostrophe, as Monsieur, Madame;
3. After conjunctions and interjections when there is silence;
4. 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;
5. Before and after incidental phrases;
6. 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:--
1. If a forward movement, it ends in an upright one, with elevated chin,
and indicates interrogation, hope, appellation, desire.
2. The same movement with the chin lowered, indicates doubt,
resignation.
3. A nod of the head, a forward movement, means confirmation, _yes_, or
_well_.
4. If the movement is brusque forward, it is the menace of a resolute
man.
5. The head thrown back means exaltation.
6. If the movement is brusque backward, it is the menace of a weak man.
7. There are rotative inflections from one shoulder to the other; this
is impatience, regret.
8. 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.
9. 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.
GENUS. SPECIES.
1 3 2
1-II 3-II 2-II
II Ecc. Conc. Norm. Conc. Conc. Conc.
_Stratagem or _Reflection_. _Veneration_.
cunning_.
1-III 3-III 2-III
III Ecc. Norm. Norm. Norm. Conc. Norm.
_Sensualism_. _Passive state_. _Affection_.
1-I 3-I 2-I
I Ecc. Ecc. Norm. Ecc. Conc. Ecc.
_Pride_. _Vehemence_. _Confidence_.
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 resume:
E Concentric. Contention of mind.
Concentric eyebrow Y Normal. Bad humor.
E Eccentric. Firmness
E Concentric. Grief.
Normal eyebrow. Y Normal. Passiveness.
E Eccentric. Stupor.
E Concentric. Scorn.
Eccentric eyebrow. Y Normal. Disdain.
E Eccentric. Astonishment.
[Illustration: 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.
GENUS. SPECIES.
1 3 2
Eye eccentric. Eye normal. Eye concentric.
Eyebrow Firmness. Bad humor. Contention of
conc. mind.
II
Eyebrow Stupor. Passive state. Grief.
III
Eyebrow Inspiration. Disdain. Scorn.
I
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.
SPECIES. 1 3 2
II 1-II 3-II 2-II
Ecc.-conc. Norm.-conc. Conc.-conc.
III 1-III 3-III 2-III
Ecc.-norm. Norm.-norm. Conc.-norm.
I 1-I 3-I 2-I
Ecc.-ecc. Norm.-ecc. Conc.-ecc.
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.
SPECIES. 1 3 2
II 1-II 3-II 2-II
Ecc.-conc. Norm.-conc. Conc.-conc.
III 1-III. 3-III. 2-III.
Ecc.-norm. Norm.-norm. Conc.-norm.
I 1-I. 3-I. 2-I.
Ecc.-ecc. Norm.-ecc. Conc.-ecc.
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.
[Illustration: 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.
[Illustration]
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.
[Illustration: Criterion of the Hand.]
Recapitulation
II +-- 2 +-- Concentro-concentric. Conflict.
| 3 --+ Normo-concentric. Tonic or power.
| 1 +-- Eccentro-concentric. Convulsive.
|
| 2 +-- Concentro-normal. Prostration.
III --+ 3 --+ Normo-normal. Abandon.
| 1 +-- Eccentro-normal. Expansion.
|
| 2 +-- Concentro-eccentric. Retraction.
| 3 --+ Normo-eccentric. Exaltation.
I +-- 1 +-- Eccentro-eccentric. Exasperation.
The nine primitive forms of the hand are, as is seen, undetermined.
+---------------------------------------------+
/| /|
/ | / |
/ | / |
/ | / |
/ | UPPER SURFACE. / |
/ | / |
/ | To hold. / |
/ | / |
+---------------------------------------------+ |
| | | O |
| I | | U |
| N | | T |
| W | | W |
| A | | A |
| R | FRONT SURFACE. | R |
| D T | | | D |
| o | To retain. | | T |
| L | | L o |
| A w | Limit. -- | A |
| T i | | T b |
| E t | Obtain. | | E e |
| R h | | | R l |
| A d | BACK SURFACE. | A o |
| L r | | | L n |
| a | | To maintain. | g |
| S w | | | | S . |
| U . | Contain. | | U |
| R | | | R |
| F | | F |
| A | | A |
| C | | C |
| E | | E |
| . | | . |
| +------------------------------------+--------+
| / | /
| / LOWER SURFACE. | /
| / | /
| / To sustain. | /
| / | /
| / | /
| / | /
|/ |/
+---------------------------------------------+
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.
[Illustration]
_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;
[Illustration]
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.
[Illustration]
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.
[Illustration]
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
[Illustration]
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.
[Illustration]
_Seventh Attitude._--This is the first position, but the legs are
farther apart. The free limb is turned
[Illustration]
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?
[Illustration]
_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.
[Illustration]
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.
[Illustration: Criterion of the Legs]
[Illustration. Criterion of the Legs]
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.
[Illustration]
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:
+-- LIFE: Occipital. -+
|-- MIND: Temporal. |-
|-- SOUL: Parietal. -+
|-- MIND: Frontal. -+ --+
|-- SOUL: Buccal. |- |
|-- LIFE: Genal. -+ |
/ -- MIND: Thoracic. -+ |
Attractive centres.- -- SOUL: Epigastric. |- |
\ -- LIFE: Abdominal. -+ \
|-- LIFE: Shoulders. -+ - Expressive centres.
|-- 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.
[Illustration: Criterion of Chorography.]
[Illustration: 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</I> 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."
1 2 3456
--------- Flower is pleasing ------
| | | | |
| | | 3 7 | |
| | +-- of the forest very ---+ |
| | |
| | 4 |
| +--------- this +----------------+
| |
| 5 8 ---+
+----------- little +-- but
|
+----+
1 | 2 6 9
it-+ is faded Oh!
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:
1. Oratorical value of ideas.
2. The ellipse.
3. Vocal inflections.
4. Inflective affinities, or relation to the preceding inflections.
5. Gestures.
6. Imitative affinities.
7. The special rule for each gesture.
8. The law whence this rule proceeds.
9. 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.
The Series of Gestures Applied to the Sentiments Oftenest Expressed by
the Orator.
First Gesture. _Interpellation._
Interpellation embraces five steps:
The first consists in elevating the shoulder in token of affection. If
the right shoulder, as in figure 2 with the right leg weak.
The second step consists in a rotary movement of the arm, its object
being to present the epicondyle (elbow-joint) to the interlocutor. For
this reason the epicondyle is called the eye of the arm.
The third stage consists in substituting the articulation of the wrist
for the epicondyle. In making the forward movement of the body, the
epicondyle must resume its natural place.
The fourth step consists in extending the hand toward the speaker in
such a way as to present to him the extremities of the fingers.
The fifth step is formed by a rapid rotation of the hand.
Second Gesture. _Thanks--Affectionate and Ceremonious._
This gesture consists of six steps:
1. Consists in lifting the hand and lowering the head.
2. Consists in raising the hand to the hip.
3. The head inclines to one side, and the elbow at the same time rises
to aid the hand in reaching the lips.
4. In this, the head resumes its normal position, while the elbow is
lowered to bring back the hand to the same position.
5. In this, the hand passes from the horizontal to the vertical
position, rounding toward the arm.
6. In this, the arm is developed, and then the hand.
Third Gesture. _Attraction._
In this gesture there are three steps:
1. The hand turns toward the interlocutor with an appealing aspect.
2. The hand opens like a fan with the little finger tending toward the
chest.
3. The elbow is turned outward, and the hand passes toward the breast.
Fourth Gesture. _Surprise and Assurance._
1. This consists in elevating the shoulders, opening the eyes and mouth
and raising the eyebrow; the whole in token of surprise.
2. Raise the passive hand above the chin, making it turn around the
wrist.
3. The hand still passive, is directed toward the person addressed, the
elbow being pressed against the body.
4. The arm is gradually extended toward the person addressed, while the
hand is given an opposite direction; that is, the palm of the hand is
toward him.
Fifth Gesture. _Devotion._
This gesture embraces seven movements:
1. This consists in raising the passive hand to the level of the other
hand, but in an inverse direction.
2. This consists in turning back the hand toward one's self.
3. This consists in drawing the elbows to the body, and placing the
hands on the chest.
4. This is produced by taking a step backward, and turning a third to
one side; during the execution of this step, the elbows are raised, and
the head is lowered.
5. This consists in drawing the elbows near the body, and placing the
hands above the shoulders.
6. This consists in developing the arms.
7. This consists in developing the hands.
Sixth Gesture. _Interrogative Surprise._
This surprise is expressed in two movements:
1. This is wholly facial.
2. This is made by advancing the hand and drawing the head backward.
Seventh Gesture. _Reiterated Interrogation._
This gesture signifies: I do not understand, I cannot explain your
conduct to me. It embraces five steps:
1. This consists in placing both hands beneath the chin, and violently
elevating the shoulders.
2. This consists in bringing the hands to the level of the chest, as if
in search of something there.
3. This consists in extending both hands toward the interlocutor, as if
to show him that they contain nothing.
4. This consists in extending one hand in the opposite direction, and
letting the head and body follow the hand.
5. This consists in turning the head vehemently toward the interlocutor,
and suddenly lowering the shoulders.
Eighth Gesture. _Anger._
This gesture is made in three movements:
1. This consists in raising the arm.
2. This consists in catching hold of the sleeve.
3. This consists in carrying the clenched hand to the breast, and
drawing back the other arm.
Ninth Gesture. _Menace._
This gesture consists of a preparatory movement, which is made by
lowering the hand while the arm is outstretched toward the
interlocutor, then the finger is extended, and the hand is outstretched
in menace.
The eye follows the finger as it would follow a pistol; this occasions a
reversal of the head proportional to that of the hand.
Tenth Gesture. _An Order for Leaving._
This is executed:
1. By turning around on the free limb.
2. By carrying the body with it.
3. By executing a one-fifth sideward movement--the right leg very weak.
All these movements are made by retaining the gesture of the preceding
menace. Then only the menacing hand is turned inward at the height of
the eye, at the moment when it is about to pass the line occupied by the
head; the elbow is raised to allow the hand a downward movement, which
ends in an indication of departure. In this indication the hand is
absolutely reversed, that is, it is in pronation. Then only does the
head, which has hitherto been lowered, rise through the opposition of
the extended arm.
Eleventh Gesture. _Reiteration._
1. The whole body tends toward the hand which is posed above the head.
The right leg passes from weak to strong.
2. The head is turned backward toward the interlocutor.
3. It rises.
4. The arm extends.
5. The hand in supination gives intimation of the order.
Twelfth Gesture. _Fright._
The right hand pendent. The left hand rises. Tremor.
The first movement is executed in one-third; the body gently passes into
the fourth, and as the fifth is being accomplished, the arm is thrust
forward as if to repel the new object of terror.
At this moment a metamorphose seems to take place, and the object which
had occasioned the fright, seems to be transfigured and to become the
subject of an affectionate impulse. The hands extend toward this object
not to repel it, but to implore it to remain; it seems to become more
and more ennobled, and to assume in the astonished eyes of the actor, a
celestial form--it is an angel. Therefore the body recoils anew
one-fourth; the hands fall back in token of acquiescence; then, while
drawing near the body, they extend anew toward the angel (_here a third
in token of affection and veneration_). Then a prayer is addressed to
it, and again the arms extend toward it in entreaty. (_Here the orator
falls upon his knees._)
The series can be executed beginning with the right arm or the left,
being careful to observe the initial and principal movement, with the
arms at the side where the scene opened. This gives the same play of
organs only in an inverse sense.
_Important Remarks._
Should any student despair of becoming familiar with our method, we give
him three pieces of advice, all easy of application:
1. Never speak without having first expressed what you would say by
gesture. Gesture must always precede speech.
2. Avoid parallelism of gesture. The opposition of the agents is
necessary to equilibrium, to harmony.
3. Retain the same gesture for the same sentiment. In saying the same
thing the gesture should not be changed.
Should the student limit himself to the application of these three
rules, he will not regret this study of the
Practice of the Art of Oratory.
Appendix.
The Symbolism of Colors Applied to the Art of Oratory.
We close this book with an appendix which will serve for ornament.
Before delivering up a suite of rooms, we are wont to embellish them
with rich decorations. Architects usually color their plans. We also
wish to give color to our criterion, by explaining the symbolism of
colors.
SPECIES.
GENUS.
1 3 2
1-II 3-II 2-II
II
Ecc.-Conc. Norm.-Conc. Conc.-Conc.
Concentric.
Violet-blue. Green-blue. Indigo.
1-III 3-III 2-III
Normal.
Ecc.-Norm. Norm.-Norm. Cone.-Norm.
III
Red-yellow. Yellow. Green-yellow.
1-I 3-I 2-I
Eccentric.
Ecc.-Ecc. Norm.-Ecc. Conc.-Ecc.
I
Red. Yellow-red. Violet-red.
In the literary world, color gives forms of speech consecrated by
frequent usage. Thus we very often say: a florid style, a brilliant
orator. This figurative language signifies that in order to shine, the
orator must be adorned with the lustre of flowers. And as one flower
excels others and pleases us by the beauty of its colors, so the orator
must excel, and please by the brilliant shades of his diction. It is as
impossible to give renown to a monotonous and colorless orator as to a
faded, discolored flower. Would you give to the phenomena of your
organism this beautiful corolla of the flower of your garden, throw your
glance upon nature.
Nature speaks to the eye through an enchanting variety of colors, and
these colors in turn teach man how he may himself speak to the eyes. The
whole man might recognize himself under the smiling emblem of colors.
Imagine him in whatever state you will, a color will give you the secret
of his aspirations. And so it has been easy for us to show you the
orator imaged in this colored chart, and we shall have no trouble in
justifying our choice of colors.
Since man, as to his soul, presents himself in three states: the
sensitive, intellectual and moral; and in his organism in the eccentric,
concentric and normal states; _a priori_, you may conclude that nature
has three colors to symbolize the three states, and experience will not
contradict you.
In fact, red, yellow and blue are the primitive colors. All others are
derived from these three rudimentary colors.
Why have we painted the column that corresponds to the life red? Because
red is the color of blood, and the life is in the blood. But life is the
fountain of strength and power. Hence red is the proper symbol of
strength and power in God, in man and in the demon.
Why blue in the column of the concentric state, the mind? Because blue,
from its transparency, is most soothing to our eyes.
Why yellow in the column of the soul? Because yellow has the color of
flame; it is the true symbol of a soul set on fire by love. Yellow is,
then, the emblem of pure love and of impure flames.
Why not use white in our chart? Because white is incandescence in the
highest degree. We say of iron that it is at a red or a white heat. But
in this world it is rare to see a heart at a white heat. Earthly
thermometers do not mark this degree of heat.
It cannot be denied that red, yellow and blue are the three elementary
colors, whose union gives birth to all the varieties that delight our
eyes. We have proof of this in one of nature's most beautiful
phenomena--the rainbow.
The rainbow is composed of seven colors. Here we distinguish the red,
yellow and blue in all their purity; then from the fusion of these three
primary colors, we have violet, orange, green and indigo.
This is the order in which the seven colors of the rainbow appear to
us:
Violet (_red_}, orange (_yellow_), green (_blue_), indigo. Orange is
composed of yellow and red. Yellow mixed with blue, produces green. Blue
when saturated, becomes indigo. Upon closer investigation, we may easily
find the nine shades which correspond perfectly to the nine operations
of our faculties, and to the nine functions of angelic minds.
By complicating and blending the mixture of these colors, we shall have
all the tints that make nature so delightful a paradise.
The seven notes of music sound in accord with the seven colors of the
rainbow. There is a brotherhood between the seven notes and the seven
colors.
The voice-apparatus, with that of speech and gesture, is for the orator
a pallet like that upon which the painter prepares and blends those
colors which, under the brush of a Raphael, would at once glow forth in
a masterpiece.
Delsarte's criterion is true; still more, it is beautiful, especially so
with its brilliant adornment of the colors of the rainbow.
We verify our judgment by an explanation of the colored chart.
As may be seen, this chart is an exact reproduction of the criterion
explained at the beginning of this book, only we have adorned it with
colors analogous to the different states of the soul that art is called
upon to reproduce.
Beginning with the three transverse columns corresponding to the
_genus_, we have painted the lower column red, the middle column yellow,
and the upper one blue. These are the three colors that symbolize the
life, soul and mind, as well as the genera.
Passing to the vertical columns which correspond to species, we have
painted the first column red, the second yellow, and the third blue,
passing from left to right. The blending of these colors produces the
variety of shades we might have in this representation.
Blue added to blue gives indigo; blue with yellow gives a deep green;
with red, violet. Yellow passed over to the middle column, gives bright
green upon blue; pure yellow, when passed upon yellow, and orange upon
red.
Thus pure red will be the expression of the sensitive state or the life.
Orange will render soul from life, and violet will be the symbol of mind
from life.
Applying this process of examination to the two other columns, we shall
know by one symbolic color, what the soul wishes at the present hour,
and these same colors will, besides, serve to regulate the attitude of
our organs.
Honor and thanks to the genius which gives us this criterion, where is
reflected the harmony of all worlds!
Epilogue.
In this rational grammar of the art of oratory, I have given the rules
of all the fine arts. All arts have the same principle, the same means
and the same end. They are akin, they interpenetrate, they mutually aid
and complete each other. They have a common scope and aim. Thus, music
needs speech and gesture. Painting and sculpture derive their merit from
the beauty of attitudes. There is no masterpiece outside the rules here
laid down.
It is not enough to know the rules of the art of oratory. He who would
become an orator, must make them his own. Even this is not enough for
the free movement of the agents which reveal the mind, the soul and the
life. The method must be so familiar as to seem a second nature. Woe to
the orator if calculation and artifice be divined in his speech! How
shun this quicksand? By labor and exercise. The instruments and the
manner of using them are in your hands, student of oratory. Set about
your work. Practice gymnastics, but let them be gymnastics in the
service of the soul, in the service of noble thoughts and generous
sentiments--divine gymnastics for the service of God.
Renew your nature. Lay aside the swaddling-bands of your imperfections,
conform your lives to the highest ideals of uprightness and truth.
Exercise your voice, your articulation and your gestures. If need be,
like Demosthenes, place pebbles in your mouth; repair like that great
orator to the sea-shore, brave the fury of the billows, accustom
yourself to the tumult and roar of assemblies. Do not fear the fracture
or dislocation of your limbs as you seek to render them supple, to
fashion them after the model, the type you have before your eyes. _Labor
omnia vincit._
In any event, be persevering. Novitiate and apprenticeship in any
profession, are difficult. In every state the bitterness of trial is to
be expected. To arrive at initiation has its joys, to arrive at
perfection is a joy supreme. Beneath the rind of this mechanism, this
play of organs, dwells a vivifying spirit. Beneath these tangible forms
of art, the Divine lies hidden, and will be revealed. And the soul that
has once known the Divine, feels pain no longer, but is overwhelmed with
joy.
Art is the richest gift of heaven to earth. The true artist does not
grow old; he is never too old to feel the charm of divine beauty. The
more a soul has been deceived, the more it has been chastened by
suffering, the more susceptible it is to the benefits of art. This is
why music soothes our sorrows and doubles our joys. Song is the
treasure of the poor.
Return, then, with renewed enthusiasm to your work! The end is worth the
pains. The human organism is a marvelous instrument which God has given
for our use. It is a harmonious lyre, with nine chords, each rendering
various sounds. These three chords for the voice, and three for both
gesture and speech, have their thousand resonances at the service of the
life, the soul and the mind. As these chords vibrate beneath your
fingers, they will give voice to the emotions of the life, to the
jubilations of the heart and the raptures of the mind. This delightful
concert will lend enchantment to your passing years, throwing around
them all the attractions of the Good, the True, and the Beautiful.
We may well salute the three Graces and the nine Muses as gracious
emblems, but it is far better to discern in art, the reflected image of
the triple celestial hierarchy with its nine angel choruses.
Honor, then, to the fine arts! Glory to eloquence! Praise to the good
man who knows how to speak well! Blessed be the great orator! Like our
tutelary angel, he will show us the path that conducts or leads back to
God.
Part Fourth.
Arnaud on Delsarte.
The Delsarte System.
By
Angélique Arnaud, (_Pupil of Delsarte_).
Translated by Abby L. Alger.
Chapter I.
The Bases of the Science.
Delsarte published no book upon art. The bases of the science which he
created are contained in a synthetical table. Other tables develop each
branch of it considered separately.
Starting from an undeniable law--that which regulates the constitution
of man,--Delsarte applies it to æsthetics; he designates man as "the
object of art," and groups in series the organic agents that co-operate
in the manifestation of human thought, sentiment and passion; declaring
the purpose of these manifestations, now become artistic, to be the
amelioration of our being by throwing into relief and light the
splendors of moral beauty and the horrors of vice.
Delsarte defines art in several ways. He has been reproached for his
over-amplitude of definition, and his development of it in a sense too
metaphysical for a science which he himself calls "positive." I give
here only such definitions as seem to me most clear and important.
"Art is at once the knowledge, the possession and the free direction of
the agents by virtue of which are revealed the life, soul and mind. It
is the appropriation of the sign to the thing. It is the relation of
the beauties scattered through nature to a superior type. It is not,
therefore, the mere imitation of nature."
The word _life_, in the sense employed above, is the equivalent of
_sensation_, of _physical manifestations._
Man being the object of art, it is from the working of the various
faculties of the human organism that Delsarte deduces the task of the
artist; as from the knowledge of the essential modalities of the _ego_,
he deduces his law of general æsthetics.
Delsarte teaches, therefore, that man is a triplicity of persons; that
is, he contains in his indestructible unity, three principles or
aspects, which he calls _life, soul_ and _mind_; in other words,
_physical, moral_ and _intellectual_ persons.
In this statement this master agrees with the philosophers who give a
triplicity of essential principles as the base of ontology. Pierre
Leroux names them as follows: _sensation, sentiment, consciousness._
That which is personal to Delsarte is the derivation of the law of
æsthetics from this conception of being.
The primal faculties once ascertained, he devotes himself to an analysis
of the organism; he describes the harmony of each of these faculties
with the apparatus which serves it as agent for manifesting itself, and
demonstrates the fitness of each organ for the task assigned it. The
master establishes that the inflections of the voice betray more
especially the sensitive nature; that gesture is the interpreter of
emotion; that articulation--a special element of speech--is in the
direct service of intelligence and thought. He gave the name of _vocal_
to the active apparatus of sensation; _dynamic_ to that of sentiment;
_buccal_ to that of articulation.
From the union of the faculties and their agents arise three modes of
expression: the _language of affection_, the _language of ellipsis_ (or
gesture) and the _language of philosophy_. They respond to the three
states which Delsarte recognizes in man, and which the artist is to
translate: the _sensitive state,_ corresponding to the _life_; the
_moral state_, to the _soul_; the _intellectual state_, to the _mind_.
But this division into three modalities or into three states is far from
giving the number of the manifestations of being. Nature is not reduced
to this indigence. From the fusion of these three states, in varying and
incessant combination, and from the predominance of one of the primitive
modalities, whether accidental or permanent, countless individualities
are formed, each with its personal constitution, its shades of
difference of education, habits, age, character, etc.
It seems at the first glance as if the mind must be confused by these
varieties, whose possible number fades into infinity; but the teacher
does not open this labyrinth to his disciples without providing them
with a clue.
Independently of these modalities, of these states, which form the
basis of the system, Delsarte traces triune subdivisions, which serve as
a point of convergence; thus the intermediary rays of the compass or
mariner's card are multiplied, and receive special names, without
ceasing to belong to one of the four cardinal points.
Whatever, for instance, may be the tendency of the individual whom we
desire to portray, or to represent by any art whatsoever, we can think
of him in his normal state, as well as in a concentric or eccentric
state: this is a first distinction.
Each of these states is itself subject to shades of difference, to
modifications. The normal state of a diplomat and that of an artist
could not be the same. The one, by the very effect of his profession,
will incline to concentration; the other will tend to expansion, if not
to eccentration. Hence a _simple normal_ state which is the most common;
a normal-concentric state, a normal-eccentric state: here we have a
second distinction.
Delsarte, in order to avoid confusion between the word _state_ applied
to primordial modalities--which he defines as _sensitive, moral_ and
_intellectual_ states,--often uses the word _element_ in place of that
of _state_ in speaking of _concentration, eccentration_ and _normality_,
which, in this case, he also calls _calm_; but, in teaching, he was
always accustomed to use these more exact terms: normal state,
concentric state, eccentric state.
These differences may occur in regard to each of the other terms. Thus
we may have the simple concentric state, the concentro-concentric state,
etc.
It is upon this mutual interpenetration of the various states in the
triple unity, that the master founds the idea which dominates and
pervades his whole system; the three isolated and independent terms do
not, to his thinking, constitute the integrality of the human _ego_. To
constitute, according to Delsarte's theory, three, the vital number, it
must, by its very essence, and by inherent force, raise itself to its
multiple nine. This is what the master calls _the ninefold accord_.
Medicine--a science which also derives its justification from the human
organism--from certain points of view affords us analogies to this
mixture of primordial components; for example, nervous and sanguine
temperaments which are blended in the sanguo-nervous, etc.
If we refer to our own faculties, does it not strike us indeed, that
neither life--nor sensation--nor sentiment, nor intellect can manifest
itself without the aid of its congeners or co-associates?
Is intelligence evident elsewhere than in a sensitive being (life)? And
even when considering the most abstract things, does it not bear witness
of its taste, its power of choice (sentiment)? Can sentiment be
absolutely disengaged from impression (life)? And if it is not always
under the sway of the idea, is it not certain that it gives rise to it,
by provoking observation and reflection (intellect)?
Finally, can an adult--save in the case of absolute idiocy--exist by
sensitive life alone outside of all sentiment and all thought (soul,
intellect)?
It is by the harmony of the modalities among themselves, and the
contribution of each to the unity, that every individual type is formed.
Delsarte thought that he could fix their numerical scale; but he was not
permitted to _carry_ his scientific studies thus far; still, it is not
indispensable to art, which demands above all things very marked types,
that verification should be carried to its farthest limits. It will not
be difficult, guided by the knowledge which Delsarte has left us, to
classify artistic personages as physical, intellectual and moral or
sentimental types; and, in the same category, to differentiate those
belonging to the concentric state from those falling more particularly
into the eccentric or normal states: the Don Juans, Othellos, Counts
Ory, etc. Delsarte, in practice, excelled in characterizing these shades
of difference.
These prolegomena would not perhaps alone suffice to give this teacher a
claim to the title of creator of a science. Although they give the
theory of the system, they are far from containing all its developments.
But Delsarte did not stop here.
In appropriate language--wherein new words are not lacking for the new
science--he takes apart each of the agents of the organism, enumerated
above; he examines them in their details, and assigns them their part in
the sensitive, moral, or intellectual transmission with which they are
charged. Thus gesture--the interpreter of sentiment--is produced by
means of the head, torso and limbs; and in the functions of the head are
comprised the physiognomic movements, also classified and described,
with their proper significance, such as anger, hate, contemplation,
etc.,--and the same with the other agents.
Each part observed gives rise to a special chart, where we see, for
instance, what should be the position of the eye in exaltation,
aversion, intense application of the mind, astonishment, etc. The same
labor is given to the arms, the hands and the attitudes of the body,
with the mark, borrowed from nature, of the slightest movement, partial
or total, corresponding to the sensation, the sentiment, the thought
that the artist wishes to express.
I hope that these works may yet be recovered entire, for the master was
lavish of them, and that they may be given to the public.[5]
An exact science at first sight appears contradictory to art. Will it
not diminish its limits, * * * trammel its transports? Will it not prove
hostile to its liberty at every point? * * * Will it not check the
flights of its graceful fancy, its adorable caprice?
No, indeed! as I said in regard to the ideal, the theories of Delsarte,
far from hampering the free expansion of art, do but enlarge its
horizons, and prepare a broader field for its harmonies. They leave
freedom to the opinions most difficult of seizure, the most unforeseen
creations; because, responding to every faculty of being, this science,
while it corrects imagination, respects its legitimate power.
Finally, what is this science which analyzes every spring and every part
brought to play in the manifestation of life? A compass to guide us to
the desired goal; a measure of proportion to fix each variety in the
immensity of types; a touchstone by which to judge of each man's
vocation.
But do not let us forget that if this science holds back, restrains and
preserves us from parasites, * * * if it prepares proper soil, and
assists feebly dowered natures to acquire real value, it cannot supply
the place of those marvelous talents, that personality, which showed us,
in Delsarte himself, the heights to which a dramatic singer may attain.
What surprises and subjugates us in these privileged persons is the
secret of nature; it is not to be written down, not to be demonstrated;
this unknown quantity, this mystery, reveals itself at its own time by
flashes, and with different degrees of intensity during the career of
the same artist. Some have thought to explain the prodigy by that
superior instinct known as intuition; but the discovery of the word does
not open the arcanum.
I have said enough, I hope, in regard to the science created by
Delsarte, to put upon the track such minds as are apt for the subject,
and endowed with sufficient penetration to assimilate it; but it must
not be disguised that even should the whole work be collected together,
the science must still await its examination, its verification and its
complements; for a science at its birth is like a program given out for
the study of present and future generations. Delsarte was still working
on his to the last years of his life. Every day he gained fresh insight;
he added branches and accessories. Yet the criticisms of details which
will come later--even when they are justified,--will not rob the
inventor of the glory of his scientific discovery. Let genius invent,
scholars pursue its discoveries! * * * If genius works alone, scientists
work hand in hand,