The language of the lecturer is plausible but altogether vague, when he says, "The impossibility of fixing the degree of emotion by any artificial rules, involves the impossibility of fixing its expression." It is not so much the degree, generally speaking, as the quality of emotion that determines tone. But even the degree of emotion, is, in some instances, the very measure of intonation; as is evident in the use of the "wave" in surprise, which is expressed by a transit through the interval of a third, a fifth or an octave, according to the degree of feeling. The context of a given passage always indicates, with sufficient clearness, the extent of emotion implied; and, in such a case as that just mentioned, would perhaps forbid the octave as a caricature, or the third as an inadequate expression; or, again, might demand the octave, as the only effective one, or the third as the chaste and appropriate utterance, in a particular passage, according to the character of the emotion which it embodied.

"Real emotion," says the lecturer on Elocution, "always suffices of itself to regulate its expression by proper tones; and it only can regulate them with perfect precision. To admit the interference of art in the matter must be worse than useless." Farewell, then, to all instruction in elocution! For elocution is art; and it is in the expression of emotion that cultivated taste and feeling are most effective. The ancient orators surely" disquieted themselves in vain," in their arduous endeavors to attain perfection in the utterance of emotion. There must evidently be a radical error, here, in the views of the lecturer. Were we all educated from infancy on perfect models of example, we should fulfil the condition which he demands. But till then, ninety-nine in the hundred will, by the period of adolescence, have contracted false or defective tones, even in the utterance of sincere and intense feeling, Witness the irresistibly ludicrous tones which mingle with the expression of ordinary emotions, in the colloquial inflections of local dialect in Switzerland, in Scotland, and in New England. Without that cultivation which genuine art prescribes, an individual of the highest order of endowment and of acquisition, may have his whole delivery disfigured by such faults.

But in this, as in several other instances, the design of Dr. Rush's system has been misunderstood. It was not intended to prompt, or to measure, or to interfere with emotion, but to furnish an exact exposition of its phenomena, and an appropriate designation of them. The teacher and the student

must settle the question of application between themselves, according to the meaning of given passages, and the constitution and habits of the individual who practises. To enable them to do this effectually, the author of the Philosophy of the Voice offers them a classification of tones, and an intelligible designation of them.

I need not dwell longer on positions which are evidently assumed through misapprehension on the part of the gentleman whose lecture was, in general, characterized by judicious observation and discriminating taste. I entertain no doubt that a few days' study and practical application of the principles of the work which he condemned, would remove every objection which he has advanced to its authority, and prove, to his full conviction, the value of that volume, as the only true fountain of instruction on the art of elocution. Were that book appreciated according to its merits, as a profound and original work on the theory of one of the noblest arts, it would be used as the text book in all our high places of instruction; teachers would make it their great study; it would be claimed as a national production, reflecting honor on the community in which it originated. Had its author lived in those times when eloquence was cherished as an attainment almost divine, and they who contributed to facilitate its acquisition were rewarded as distinguished benefactors of mankind, neither statue nor votive wreath would have been wanting to his honor.

Regarding the theory of Gesture as properly coming within the range of a lecture or elocution, the gentleman who preceded me on our subject, advanced objections to the great standard work on gesture, Austin's Chironomia. To these I wish to offer a brief reply, before entering on the general topics embraced in my subsequent remarks.

Justice to the work of Mr. Austin requires, although my friend who lectured on the subject of elocution disposed of it so summarily, that we should advert to the facts of the case as to its acknowledged authority. The Chironomia is used as a book of reference, by many of the most eminent public speakers of Great Britain. It is universally regarded as a competent treatise on its subject, as a production embodying the most valuable results of extensive learning and of cultivated taste, and as a rich contribution to the treasury of the fine arts. But in the case of this work, - as in that of Dr. Rush the lecturer has formed an erroneous idea of the design of its author. The Chironomia, like the Philosophy of the

Voice, is an analysis of the subject of which it treats. It classifies and designates gesture, on a plan equally ingenious and clear. It contains with a single exception, no recipe for the acquisition of gesture in given passages. It shows us merely what the corporal frame does in the act of expression, so far as relates to that part of oratory, which is addressed to the eye. Like the work of Dr. Rush on the voice, it offers the invaluable aid of classification and nomenclature. But it never was intended as a manual of directions. It enables the teacher to detect faults in gesture and position, and to point them out to the student, by specific and intelligible illustration or direction, as a particular instance may require. It arranges gesture most skilfully, according to its character and import, but prescribes nothing. The author takes care, on the contrary, to remind the student, even in the passage in which he gives an example of the application of his method, that the proper delivery of the piece which he has selected, is by no means limited to the attitudes and action which he has indicated. His purpose was not to substitute rules of art for the promptings of nature, but to observe and teach what action is leaving the student to judge, to select, and to apply, for himself.

The lecturer is in error when he says that, in the Chironomia, "gesture is taught by diagrams." Designated, not "taught," should have been the word. The diagrams in that work serve the same purpose that diagrams do in any other; they render ideas definite and tangible, clear and intelligible. The instructer and the student are to decide, in any instance, what gestures are appropriate, what to select or to apply; and, for this purpose, nomenclature and diagrams are an invaluable aid, as giving clearness and precision to the details of instruction and practice.

When the author of the Chironomia says, in the instance already referred to, "The manner of delivery is such as occurred, and might have been varied in a thousand ways," he only shows us the more conclusively how far his intention was from prescribing any series of gesture in the delivery of a particular piece. The natural hyperbole in his expression regarding the allowable variety of action in a single passage, will hardly mislead an attentive and reflecting reader.

The lecturer proceeds to say, "In another part of his book, having treated of certain gestures which he terms non-significant, he says: "These may be used in any part of an ora

tion, and belong to every character and style of speaking." By this quotation we are left to infer that there is no such thing as distinction or classification in gesture, or that the author is at fault in regard to the whole class of gestures denominated "non-significant." Candor here compels me to say, that the manner in which this quotation is introduced, proves either that the lecturer has not attentively perused the part of the book which he condemns, or that he has utterly misunderstoood the author's meaning.

Mr. Austin, in his ingenious classification of gesture, very justly discriminates between those which, (as for instance, the clenching and shaking of the fist in threatening,) have a natural significance, universally recognised by mankind, and those which, like the simple rising and falling of the hand in the didactic and unimpassioned parts of a discourse, have no direct significance, but serve rather to give vent to the animation and earnestness of the speaker, or to aid the general force of delivery. To gestures of this description the author of the Chironomia has applied, for a temporary purpose of distinction, the designation of non-significant. The vocabulary of the art of delivery, did not furnish him with an appropriate term; and he therefore introduced one which, although it might startle a hasty reader, in the act of turning over the leaves of the book, could not mislead one who carefully perused and studied it.

I regret that my friend should have committed himself by groundless strictures on a received text-book; and that, in this instance, he should have deviated so far from his habits as a scholar, as to condemn a theory, without careful investigation. I feel assured, however, that, when leisure shall have permitted him to review the subject which we are discussing, and to re-peruse the work on which he has commented, he will be fully convinced that intelligible and efficacious instruction in rhetorical action, must be founded on close analysis and definite references, aided by a precise nomenclature. In other words, that the teacher needs the assistance of exactly such a work as Austin's Chironomia.

One word on the subject so often introduced in the lecture on elocution, the inefficacy or the "interference" of art in this branch of education. Every mind imbued with the pure love of nature, and with manly simplicity of taste, must revolt at whatever is artificial in the effect of delivery. But is there therefore no art of delivery? are there no methods, no

rules, for acquiring a just delivery? The proper question is, What is true art? For true art is nature consummated in life and action. True art is the product of genuine taste; and genuine taste is elicited and cherished by the observation of correct models, and disciplined by reflection on these. Hence spring the principles that are to be embodied in rules and practice.

Culture and art, then, are immense advantages, if coincident with nature; and it is such art, and such culture only, that are desired in education. But to a complete education their aid is indispensable. It is too common in our day to neglect important parts of mental cultivation, and then to disparage them as artificial. Let art be unsparingly condemned where it leads to artifice and trick. But let it have due scope where its character is genuine, and its effects conducive to all the best ends of human culture.*

Never was a greater mistake uttered than in the lecturer's assertion, "Emotion and art cannot coalesce in the soul." Did Michael Angelo, then, execute his "Last Judgment," with a cold mechanical dexterity merely? Who can look at those tremendous displays of human power, exhibited in the various groups and figures of that wonderful series of representations, and doubt that the soul of the artist was impelled and exalted by the most vehement emotion, in the act of executing them? What was the power of Demosthenes, but an unparalleled "coalescing of emotion and art" in delivery? True art does not impair, but deepens, concentrates, and excites genuine emotion.

Whatever the lecturer has urged against "hypocrisy" and "mimicry" can only apply to the delivery of actors of the lowest class, who follow their profession mechanically, and try to do artificially what good actors do from sympathy with the author whose words they recite. It is the testimony of all good performers, even in this most mimetic of the arts, that,

* The tendency to disparage acquirement inevitably descends from teachers to the young, and predisposes them to indolence and inapplication. The friends of a young man destined to professional life, as a public speaker, were solicitous about his success in speaking, and suggested the importance of his devoting himself to the study and practice of elocution. "I want no artificial training," was his prompt reply: "find me the thing to say, and I'll find the manner of saying it." This young man must have consciously possessed, by special endowment, all that it cost Demosthenes so many laborious years to master.