PLATE III.
PLATE III.
At first it may not be improper for the teacher, after placing the pupil in the position plate I. to stand at some distance exactly opposite to him in the same position, the right and left sides only reversed, and while the pupil is speaking, to show him by example the action he is to make use of. In this case the teacher's left hand will correspond for the pupil's right, by which means he will see as in a looking-glass, how to regulate his gesture, and will soon catch the method of doing it by himself.
It is expected the master will be a little discouraged at the aukward figure his pupil makes in his first attempts to teach him. But this is no more than what happens in dancing, fencing, or any other exercise which depends on habit. By practice, the pupil will soon begin to feel his position, and be easy in it. Those positions which were at first distressing to him, he will fall into naturally, and if they are such as are really graceful and becoming (and such it is presumed are those which have been just described) they will be adopted with more facility than any other that can be taught him.
Though the acting of plays at schools has been universally supposed a very useful practice, it has of late years been much laid aside. The advantages arising from it have not been judged equal to the inconveniencies; and the speaking of single speeches, or the acting of single scenes, has been generally substituted in its stead. Indeed when we consider the leading principle and prevailing sentiments of most plays, we shall not wonder that they are not always thought to be the most suitable employment for youth at school; nor, when we reflect on the long interruption to the common school-exercises, which the preparation for a play must necessarily occasion, shall we think it consistent with the general improvement:—But, to wave every objection from prudence or morality, it may be confidently affirmed, that the acting of a play is not so conducive to improvement in elocution, as the speaking of single speeches.
In the first place, the acting of plays is of all kinds of delivery the most difficult; and therefore cannot be the most suitable exercise for boys at school. In the next place, a dramatic performance requires so much attention to the deportment of the body, so varied an expression of the passions, and so strict an adherence to character, that elocution is in danger of being neglected: Besides, exact propriety of action, and a nice discrimination of the passions, however essential on the stage, are but of a secondary importance in a school. It is plain, open, distinct, and forcible pronunciation which school-boys should aim at; and not that quick transition from one passion to another, that archness of look, and thatjeu de theatre, as it is called, so essential to a tolerable dramatic exhibition, and which actors themselves can scarcely arrive at. In short, it is speaking rather than acting which school-boys should be taught, while the performance of plays is calculated to teach them acting rather than speaking.
But there is a contrary extreme into which many teachers are apt to run, and that is, to condemn every thing which is vehement and forcible astheatrical. It is an old trick to depreciate what we can not attain, and calling a spirited pronunciationtheatrical, is but an artful method of hiding an utter inability of speaking with force and energy. But though school-boys ought not to be taught those nice touches which form the greatest difficulties in the profession of an actor, they should not be too much restrained from an exertion of voice, so necessary to strengthening the organs of sound, because they may sometimes be too loud and vociferous. Perhaps nine out of ten, instead of too much confidence, and too violent a manner of speaking, which these teachers seem so much to dread, have as Dr. Johnson calls it, a frigid equality, a stupid languor, and a torpid apathy. These must be roused by something strong and excessive, or they will never rise even to mediocrity; while the few who have a tendency to rant, are very easily reclaimed; and ought to be treated in pronunciation and action, as Quintillion advises to do in composition; that is, we should rather allow of an exuberance, than, by too much correctness, check the vigour and luxuriancy of nature.
PLATE IV.
PLATE IV.
Though school-boys, therefore, ought not to be taught the finesses of acting, they should as much as possible be accustomed to speak such speeches as require a full, open, animated pronunciation: for which purpose, they should be confined chiefly to orations, odes, and such single speeches of plays, as are in the declamatory and vehement style. But as there are many scenes of plays, which are justly reckoned among the finest compositions of the language, some of these may be adopted among the upper class of boys, and those more particularly who have the best deportment: for action in scenes will be found much more difficult than in single speeches. And here it will be necessary to give some additional instructions respecting action, as a speaker who delivers himself singly to an auditory, and one who addresses another speaker in view of an auditory, are under very different predicaments. The first has only one object to address, the last has two:—For if a speaker on the stage were to address the person he speaks to, without any regard to the point of view in which he stands with respect to the audience, he would be apt to turn his back on them, and to place himself in such positions as would be highly ungraceful and disgusting. When a scene, therefore, is represented, it is necessary that the two personages who speak should form a sort of picture, and place themselves in a position agreeable to the laws of perspective. In order to do this, it will be necessary that each of them should stand obliquely, and chiefly make use of one hand: that is, supposing the stage or platform where they stand, to be a quadrangle, each speaker should respectively face that corner of it next to the audience, and use that hand and rest upon that leg which is next to the person he speaks to, and which is farthest from the audience. This disposition is absolutely necessary to form any thing like a picturesque grouping of objects, and without it, that is, if both speakers use the right hand, and stand exactly fronting each other, the impropriety will be palpable, and the spectacle disgusting.
It need scarcely be noted, that the speaker in a scene uses that hand which is next the audience, he ought likewise to poize his body upon the same leg: this is almost an invariable rule in action: the hand should act on that side only on which the body bears. Good actors and speakers may sometimes depart from this rule, but such only will know when to do it with propriety.
Occasion may be taken in the course of the scene to change sides. One speaker at the end of an impassioned speech, may cross over to the place of the other, while the latter at the same moment crosses over to the place of the former. This, however, must be done with great care, and so as to keep the back from being turned to the audience: But if this transition be performed adroitly, it will have a very good effect in varying the position of the speakers, and giving each an opportunity of using his right hand—the most favourable to grace and expression. And if from so humble a scene as the school, we may be permitted to raise our observations to the senate, it might be hinted, that gentlemen on each side of the house, while addressing the chair, can with grace and propriety only make use of one hand; namely, that which is next to the speaker; and it may be observed in passing, that to all the other advantages of speaking, which are supposed to belong to one side of the house—may be added—the graceful use of the right hand.
The better to conceive the position of two speakers in a scene, a plate is given representing their respective attitudes; and it must be carefully noted, that when they are not speaking; the arms must hang in their natural place by the sides; unless what is spoken by one is of such importance, as to excite agitation and surprize in the other. But if we should be sparing of gesture at all times, we should be more particularly so when we are not speaking.
From what has been laid down, it will evidently appear, how much more difficult and complicate is the action of a scene than that of a single speech; and, in teaching both to children, how necessary it is to adopt as simple and easy a method as possible. The easiest method of conveying instruction in this point, will be sufficiently difficult; and therefore, the avoiding of aukwardness and impropriety should be more the object of instruction, than the conveying of beauties.
There are indeed some masters who are against teaching boys any action at all, and are for leading them in this point entirely to nature. It is happy, however, that they do not leave that action to nature, which is acquired by dancing; the deportment of their pupils would soon convince them they were imposed on by the sound of words. Improved and beautiful nature is the object of the painter's pencil, the poet's pen, and the rhetorician's action, and not that sordid and common nature, which is perfectly rude and uncultivated. Nature directs us to art, and art selects and polishes the beauties of nature. It is not sufficient for an orator, says Quintilian, that he is a man: he must be an improved and cultivated man: he must be a man favoured by nature and fashioned by art.
But the necessity of adopting some method of teaching action, is too evident to need proof. Boys will infallibly contract some action; to require them to stand stock-still while they are speaking an impassioned speech, is not only exacting a very difficult task from them, but is, in a great measure, checking their natural exertions. If they are left to themselves, they will in all probability fall into very wild and ungraceful action, which, when once formed into habit, can scarcely ever be corrected: giving them therefore a general out-line of good action, must be of the utmost consequence to their progress and improvement in pronunciation.
The great use, therefore, of a system of action like the present, is, that a boy will never be embarrassed for want of knowing what to do with his legs and arms; nor will he bestow that attention on his action, which ought to be directed to his pronunciation: he will always be in a position which will not disgrace his figure; and when this gesture is easy to him, it may serve as a ground-work to something more perfect: he may either, by his own genius or his master's instructions, build some other action upon it, which may in time give it additional force and variety.
Thus, what seemed either unworthy the attention, or too difficult for the execution of others, the author of the present publication hits ventured to attempt. A conviction of the necessity of leaching some system of action, and the abundant success of the present system in one of the most respectable academies near London, has determined him to publish it, for the use of such seminaries as make English pronunciation a part of their discipline.
It may not be useless to observe, that boys should be classed in this, as in every other kind of instruction, according to their abilities. That a class should not consist of more than ten; that about eight or ten lines of some speech, should be read first by the teacher, then by the boy who reads best; and then by the rest in order, all having a book of the same kind, and all reading the same portion. This portion they must be ordered to get by heart against the next lesson; and then the first boy must speak it, standing at some distance from the rest; in the manner directed in the plates; the second boy must succeed him, and so on till they have all spoken. After which another portion may be read to them, which they must read and speak in the same manner as before. When they have gone through a speech in this manner by portions, the two or three first boys may be ordered, against the next lesson, to speak the whole speech; the next lesson two or three more, and so on to the rest. This will excite emulation, and give the teacher an opportunity of ranking them according to their merits.
Every part of the human frame contributes to express the passions and emotions of the mind, and to shew, in general, its present state. The head is sometimes erected, sometimes hung down, sometimes drawn suddenly back with an air of disdain, sometimes shews by a nod, a particular person or object; gives assent or denial, by different motions; threatens by one sort of movement, approves by another, and expresses suspicion by a third.
The arms are sometimes both thrown out, sometimes the right alone. Sometimes they are lifted up as high as the face, to express wonder; sometimes held out before the breast, to shew fear; spread forth with the hands open to express desire or affection; the hands clapped in surprise, and in sudden joy and grief; the right hand clenched, and the arms brandished, to threaten; the two arms set a-kimbo, to look big, and express contempt or courage. With the hands, we solicit, we refuse, we promise, we threaten, we dismiss, we invite, we in treat, we express aversion, fear, doubting, denial, asking, affirmation, negation, joy, grief, confession, penitence. With the hands we describe, and point out all circumstances of time, place and manner of what we relate; we excite the passions of others, and soothe them: we approve and disapprove, permit or prohibit, admire or despise. The hands serve us instead of many sorts of words, and where the language of the tongue is unknown, that of the hands is understood, being universal and common to all nations.
The legs advance, or retreat, to express desire, or aversion, love or hatred, courage or fear, and produce exultation, or leaping in sudden joy; and the stamping of the foot expresses earnestness, anger, and threatening.
Especially the face, being furnished with a variety of muscles, does more in expressing the passions of the mind, than the whole human frame besides. The change of colour (in white people) shews, by turns, anger by redness, and sometimes by paleness; fear likewise by paleness, and shame by blushing. Every feature contributes its part. The mouth open, shews one state of the mind, shut, another; the gnashing of the teeth another. The forehead smooth, eyebrows arched and easy, shew tranquility or joy. Mirth opens the mouth towards the ears, crisps the nose, half shuts the eyes, and sometimes fills them with tears. The front wrinkled into frowns, and the eyebrows overhanging the eyes, like clouds fraught with tempest, shew a mind agitated with fury. Above all, the eye shews the very spirit in a visible form. In every different state of the mind, it assumes a different appearance. Joy brightens and opens it. Grief half-closes, and drowns it in tears. Hatred and anger, flash from it like lightning. Love darts from it in glances, like the orient beam. Jealousy, and squinting envy, dart their contagious blasts from the eye. And devotion raises it to the skies, as if the soul of the holy man were going to take its flight to heaven.
The force of attitude and looks alone appears in a wonderously striking manner, in the works of the painter and statuary, who have the delicate art of making the flat canvas and rocky marble utter every passion of the human mind, and touch the soul of the spectator, as if the picture, or statue, spoke the pathetic language of Shakspear. It is no wonder, then, that masterly action, joined with powerful elocution, should be irresistible. And the variety of expression, by looks and gestures, is so great, that, as is well known, a whole play can be represented without a word spoken.
The following are, I believe, the principal passions, humours, sentiments and intentions, which are to be expressed by speech and action. And I hope it will be allowed by the reader, that it is nearly in the following manner, that nature expresses them.
Tranquility, orapathy, appears by the composure of the countenance, and general repose of the body and limbs, without the exertion of any one muscle. The countenance open; the forehead smooth; the eyebrows arched; the mouth just not shut; and the eyes passing with an easy motion from object to object, but not dwelling long upon any one.
Cheerfulness, adds a smile, opening the mouth a little more.
Mirth, orlaughter, opens the mouth still more towards the ears; crisps the nose; lessens the aperture of the eyes, and sometimes fills them with tears; shakes and convulses the whole frame, giving considerable pain, which occasions holding the sides.
Raillery, in sport, without real animosity, puts on the aspect of cheerfulness. The tone of voice is sprightly. With contempt, or disgust, it casts a look asquint, from time to time, at the object; and quits the cheerful aspect for one mixed between an affected grin and sourness—the upper lip is drawn up with an air of disdain. The arms are set a-kimbo on the hips, and the right hand now and then thrown out toward the object, as if one were going to strike another a slight back-handed blow. The pitch of the voice rather loud, the tone arch and sneering; the sentences short; the expressions satyrical, with mock-praise intermixed. There are instances of raillery in scripture itself, as 1 Kings xviii. and Isa. xliv. It is not, therefore, beneath the dignity of the pulpit-orator, occasionally to use it, in the cause of virtue, by exhibiting vice in a ludicrus appearance. Nor should I think raillery unworthy the attention of the lawyer; as it may occasionally come in, not unusefully, in his pleadings, as well as any other stroke of ornament, or entertainment.
Buffooneryassumes an arch, sly, leering gravity. Must not quit its serious aspect, though all should laugh to burst ribs of steel. This command of face is somewhat difficult, though not so hard, I should think, as to restrain the contrary sympathy, I mean of weeping with those who weep.
Joy, when sudden and violent, expresses itself by clapping of hands, and exultation, or leaping. The eyes are opened wide; perhaps filled with tears; often raised to heaven, especially by devout persons. The countenance is smiling; not composedly, but with features aggravated. The voice rises from time to time, to very high notes.
Delight, orpleasure, as when one is entertained, or ravished with music, painting, oratory, or any such elegancy, shews itself by the looks, gestures, and utterance of joy; but moderated.
Gravity, orseriousness, the mind fixed upon some important subject, draws down the eyebrows a little; casts down, or shuts, or raises the eyes to heaven; shuts the mouth, and pinches the lips close. The posture of the body and limbs is composed, and without much motion. The speech, if any, slow and solemn; the tone unvarying.
Enquiryinto an obscure subject, fixes the body in one posture, the head stooping, and the eye poring, the eyebrows drawn down.
Attentionto an esteemed, or superior character, has the same aspect, and requires silence; the eyes often cast down upon the ground; sometimes fixed on the face of the speaker; but not too pertly.
Modesty, orsubmission, bends the body forward; levels the eyes, to the breast, if not to the feet, of the superior character. The voice low; the tone submissive; and words few.
Perplexity, oranxiety, which is always attended with some degree of fear and uneasiness, draws all the parts of the body together; gathers up the arms upon the breast, unless one hand covers the eyes, or rubs the forehead; draws down the eyebrows; hangs the head upon the breast; casts down the eyes; shuts and pinches the eye-lids close; shuts the month, and pinches the lips close, or bites them. Suddenly the whole body is vehemently agitated. The person walks about busily; stops abruptly: then he talks to himself, or makes grimaces. If he speaks to another, his pauses are very long; the tone of his voice, unvarying, and his sentences broken, expressing half, and keeping in half of what arises in his mind.
Vexation, occasioned by some real or imaginary misfortune, agitates the whole frame; and, besides expressing itself with the looks, gestures, restlessness, and tone of perplexity, it adds complaint, fretting, and lamenting.
Pity, a mixed passion of love and grief, looks down upon distress with lifted hands; eyebrows drawn down; mouth open, and features drawn together. Its expression, as to looks and gesture, is the same with those of suffering, (seeSuffering) but more moderate, as the painful feelings are only sympathetic, and therefore one remove, as it were, more distant from the soul, than what one feels in his own person.
Grief, sudden and violent, expresses itself by beating the head; groveling on the ground; tearing of garments, hair, and flesh; screaming aloud, weeping, stamping with the feet, lifting the eyes, from time to time, to heaven; hurrying to and fro, running distracted, or fainting away, sometimes without recovery. Sometimes violent grief produces a torpid silence, resembling total apathy.
Melancholy, or fixed grief, is gloomy, sedentary, motionless. The lower jaw falls; the lips pale; the eyes are cast down, half shut, eye-lids swelled and red, or livid, tears trickling silent, and unwiped; with a total inattention to every thing that passes. Words, if any, few, and those dragged out, rather than spoken; the accents weak, and interrupted, sighs breaking into the middle of sentences and words.
Despair, as in a condemned criminal, or one who has lost all hope of salvation, bends the eyebrows downward; clouds the forehead; roils the eyes around frightfully; opens the mouth towards the ears; bites the lips; widens the nostrils; gnashes with the teeth, like a fierce wild beast. The heart is too much hardened to suffer tears to flow; yet the eye-balls will be red and inflamed, like those of an animal in a rabid state. The head is hung down upon the breast. The arms are bended at the elbows, the fists are clenched hard; the veins and muscles swelled; the skin livid; and the whole body strained and violently agitated; groans, expressive of inward torture, more frequently uttered than words. If any words, they are few, and expressed with a sullen, eager bitterness; the tone of voice often loud and furious. As it often drives people to distraction, and self-murder, it can hardly be over-acted by one who would represent it.
Fear, violent and sudden, opens very wide the eyes and mouth; shortens the nose; draws down the eyebrows; gives the countenance an air of wildness; covers it with a deadly paleness; draws back the elbows parallel with the sides; lifts up the open hands, the fingers together, to the height of the breast, so that the palms face the dreadful object, as shields opposed against it. One foot is drawn back behind the other, so that the body seems shrinking from the danger, and putting itself in a posture for flight. The heart beats violently; the breath is fetched quick and short; the whole body is thrown into a general tremor. The voice is weak and trembling; the sentences are short, and the meaning confused and incoherent. Imminent danger, real or fancied, produces in timorous persons, as women and children, violent shrieks, without any articulate sound of words; and sometimes irrecoverably confounds the understanding; produces fainting, which is sometimes followed by death.
Shame, or a sense of one's appearing to a disadvantage, before one's fellow-creatures; turns away the face from the beholders, covers it with blushes, hangs the head, casts down the eyes, draws down the eyebrows, either strikes the person dumb, or, if he attempts to say any thing in his own defence, causes his tongue to faulter, and confounds his utterance, and puts him upon making a thousand gestures and grimaces, to keep himself in countenance; all of which only heighten the confusion of his appearance.
Remorse, or a painful sense of guilt; casts down the countenance, and clouds it with anxiety; hangs down the head, draws the eyebrows down upon the eyes; the right hand beats the breast; the teeth gnash with anguish; the whole body is strained and violently agitated. If this strong remorse is succeeded by the more gracious disposition of penitence, or contrition, then the eyes are raised (but with great appearance of doubting and fear) to the throne of heavenly mercy; and immediately cast down again to the earth. Then floods of tears are seen to flow. The knees are bended, or the body prostrated on the ground. The arms are spread in a suppliant posture, and the voice of deprecation is uttered with sighs, groans, timidity, hesitation and trembling.
Courage, steady, and cool, opens the countenance, gives the whole form an erect and graceful air. The accents are strong, full-mouthed and articulate, the voice firm and even.
Boasting, or affected courage, is loud, blustering, threatening. The eyes stare; the eyebrows draw down; the face red and bloated; the mouth pouts out; the voice hollow and thundering; the arms are set a-kimbo; the head often nodding in a menacing manner; and the right fist, clenched, is brandished, from time to time, at the person threatened. The right foot is often stamped upon the ground, and the legs take such large strides, and the steps are so heavy, that the earth seems to tremble under them.
Pride, assumes a lofty look, bordering upon the aspect and attitude of anger. The eyes open, but with the eyebrows considerably drawn down; the mouth pouting out, mostly shut, and the lips pinched close. The words walk out a-strut, with a slow, stiff bombastic affectation of importance. The arms generally a-kimbo, and the legs at a distance from one another, taking large tragedy strides.
Obstinacyadds to the aspect of pride, a dodged sourness, like that of malice. SeeMalice.
Authority, opens the countenance, but draws down the eyebrows a little, so far as to give the look of gravity. SeeGravity.
Commandingrequires an air a little more peremptory, with a look a little severe or stern. The hand is held out, and moved toward the person to whom the order is given, with the palm upwards, and the head nods towards him.
Forbidding, on the contrary, draws the head backwards, and pushes the hand from one with the palm downward, as if going to lay it upon the person, to hold him down immoveable, that he may not do what is forbidden him.
Affirming, especially with a judicial oath, is expressed by lifting the open right hand and eyes toward heaven; or if conscience is appealed to, by laying the right hand upon the breast.
Denyingis expressed by pushing the open right hand from one, and turning the face the contrary way. SeeAversion.
Differingin sentiment may be expressed as refusing. SeeRefusing.
Agreeingin opinion, orConviction, as granting. SeeGranting.
Exhorting, as by a general at the head of his army, requires a kind, complacent look; unless matter of offence has passed, as neglect of duty, or the like.
Judgingdemands a grave, steady look, with deep attention; the countenance altogether clear from any appearance of either disgust or favour. The accents slow, distinct, emphatical, accompanied with little action, and that very grave.
Reprovingputs on a stern aspect, roughens the voice, and is accompanied with gestures not much different from those ofThreatening, but not so lively.
Acquittingis performed with a benevolent, tranquil countenance and tone of voice; the right hand, if not both, open, waved gently toward the person acquitted, expressing dismission. SeeDismissing.
Condemningassumes a severe look, but mixed with pity. The sentence is to be expressed as with reluctance.
Teaching, explaining, inculcating, or giving orders to an inferior, requires an air of superiority to be assumed. The features are to be composed of an authoritative gravity. The eye steady, and open, the eye-brow a little drawn down over it; but not so much as to look surly or dogmatical. The tone of voice varying according as the emphasis requires, of which a good deal is necessary in expressing matter of this sort. The pitch of the voice to be strong and clear; the articulation distinct; the utterance slow, and the manner peremptory. This is the proper manner of pronouncing the commandments in the communion office. But (I am sorry to say it) they are too commonly spoken in the same manner as the prayers, than which nothing can be more unnatural.
Pardoningdiffers from acquitting, in that the latter means clearing a person, after trial, of guilt; whereas the former supposes guilt, and signifies merely delivering the guilty person from punishment. Pardoning requires some degree of severity of aspect and tone of voice, because the pardoned person is not an object of entire unmixed approbation; otherwise its expression is much the same as granting. SeeGranting.
Arguingrequires a cool, sedate, attentive aspect, and a clear, slow, emphatical accent, with much demonstration by the hand. It differs from teaching (seeTeaching) in that the look of authority is not wanting in arguing.
Dismissing, with approbation, is done with a kind aspect and tone of voice; the right hand open, gently waved toward the person. With displeasure, besides the look and tone of voice which suits displeasure, the hand is hastily thrown out toward the person dismissed, the back part toward him, the countenance at the same time turned away from him.
Refusing, when accompanied with displeasure, is expressed nearly in the same way. Without displeasure, it is done with a visible reluctance, which occasions the bringing out the words slowly, with such a shake of the head, and shrug of the shoulders, as is natural upon hearing of somewhat which gives us concern.
Granting, when done with unreserved good-will, is accompanied with a benevolent aspect and tone of voice; the right hand pressed to the left breast, to signify how heartily the favour is granted, and the benefactor's joy in conferring it.
Dependence. SeeModesty.
Veneration, orWorshipping, comprehends several articles, as ascription, confession, remorse, intercession, thanksgiving, deprecation, petition, &c. Ascription of honour and praise to the peerless, supreme Majesty of Heaven, and confession and deprecation, are to be uttered with all that humility of looks and gesture, which can exhibit the most profound self-abasement, and annihilation, before One; whose superiority is infinite. The head is a little raised, but with the most apparent timidity and dread; the eye is lifted, but immediately cast down again, or closed for a moment; the eyebrows are drawn down in the most respectful manner; the features, and the whole body and limbs, are all composed to the most profound gravity; one posture continuing, without considerable change, during the whole performance of the duty. The knees bended, or the whole body prostrate, or if the posture be standing, which scripture does not disallow, bending forward, as ready to prostrate itself. The arms spread out, but modestly, as high as the breast; the hands open. The tone of the voice will be submissive, timid, equal trembling, weak, suppliant. The words will be brought out with a visible anxiety and diffidence, approaching to hesitation; few and slow; nothing of vain repetition, haranguing, flowers of rhetoric, or affected figures of speech; all simplicity, humility, and lowliness, such as becomes a reptile of the dust, when presuming to address Him, whose greatness is tremenduous beyond all created conception. In intercession for our fellow creatures, which is prescribed in the scriptures, and in thanksgiving, the countenance will naturally assume a small degree of cheerfulness beyond what it was clothed with in confession of sin, and deprecation of punishment. But all affected ornament of speech, or gesture in devotion, deserves the severest censure, as being somewhat much worse than absurd.
Respectfor a superior, puts on the looks and gesture of modesty. SeeModesty.
Hopebrightens the countenance; arches the eyebrows; gives the eyes an eager, wishful look; opens the mouth to half a smile; bends the body a little forward, the feet equal; spreads the arms, with the hands open, as to receive the object of its longings. The tone of the voice is eager and unevenly, inclining to that of joy, but curbed by a degree of doubt and anxiety. Desire differs from hope as to expression, in this particular, that there is more appearance of doubt and anxiety in the former than in the latter. For it is one thing to desire what is agreeable, and another to have a prospect of actually obtaining it.
Desireexpresses itself by bending the body forward, and stretching the arms toward the object, as to grasp it. The countenance smiling, but eager and wishful; the eyes wide open, and eyebrows raised; the mouth open; the tone of voice suppliant, but lively and cheerful, unless there be distress as well as desire; the expressions fluent and copious: if no words are used, sighs instead of them; but this is chiefly in distress.
Love(successful) lights up the countenance into smiles. The forehead is smoothed and enlarged; the eyebrows are arched; the mouth a little open, and smiling; the eyes languishing, and half shut, doat upon the beloved object. The countenance assumes the eager and wishful look of desire, (seeDesireabove) but mixed with an air of satisfaction and repose. The accents are soft and winning; the tone of voice persuasive, flattering, pathetic, various, musical, rapturous, as in joy. (SeeJoy.) The attitude much the same with that of desire. Sometimes both hands pressed eagerly to the bosom. Love, unsuccessful, adds an air of anxiety and melancholy. SeePerplexityandMelancholy.
Giving,Inviting,Soliciting. and such-like actions, which suppose some degree of affection, real or pretended, are accompanied with much the same looks and gestures as express love, but more moderate.
Wonder, orAmazement, (without any otherinterestingpassion, asLove,Esteem, &c.) opens the eyes, and makes them appear very prominent; sometimes raises them to the skies; but oftener, and more expressively, fixes them on the object, if the cause of the passion be a present and visible object, with the look, all except the wildness, of fear. (SeeFear.) If the hands hold any thing, at the time when the object of wonder appears, they immediately let it drop, unconscious, and the whole body fixes in the contracted, stooping posture of amazement; the mouth open; the hands held up open, nearly in the attitude of fear. (SeeFear.) The first excess of this passion stops all utterance; but it makes amends afterwards by a copious flow of words, and exclamations.
Admiration, a mixed passion, consisting of wonder, with love or esteem, takes away the familiar gesture and expression of simple love. (SeeLove.) Keeps the respectful look and gesture. (SeeModestyandVeneration.) The eyes are opened wide, and now and then raised toward heaven. The mouth is opened. The hands are lifted up. The tone of the voice rapturous. This passion expresses itself copiously, making great use of the figure hyperbole.
Gratitudeputs on an aspect full of complacency. (SeeLove.) If the object of it is a character greatly superior, it expresses much submission. (SeeModesty.) The right hand pressed upon the breast, accompanies, very properly, the expression of a sincere and hearty sensibility of obligation.
Curiosity, as of a busy-body, opens the eyes and mouth, lengthens the neck, bends the body forward, and fixes it in one posture, with the hands nearly in that of admiration. SeeAdmiration. See alsoDesire,Attention,Hope,Enquiry, andPerplexity.
Persuasionputs on the looks of moderate love. (SeeLove.) Its accents are soft, flattering, emphatical and articulate.
Tempting, orWheedling, expresses itself much in the same way, only carrying the fawning part to excess.
Promisingis expressed with benevolent looks, the nod of consent, and the open hands gently moved towards the person to whom the promise is made, the palms upwards. The sincerity of the promiser may be expressed by laying the right hand gently on the breast.
Affectationdisplays itself in a thousand different gestures, motions, airs and looks, according to the character which the person affects. Affectation of learning gives a stiff formality to the whole person. The words come stalking out with the pace of a funeral procession, and every sentence has the solemnity of an oracle. Affectation of piety turns up the goggling whites of the eyes to heaven, as if the person were in a trance, and fixes them in that posture so long that the brain of the beholder grows giddy. Then comes up, deep grumbling, a holy groan from the lower parts of the thorax; but so tremendous in sound, and so long protracted, that you expect to see a goblin rise, like an exhalation through the solid earth. Then he begins to rock from side to side, or backward and forward, like an aged pine on the side of a hill, when a brisk wind blows. The hands are clasped together, and often lifted, and the head often shaken with foolish vehemence. The tone of the voice is canting, or sing-song lullaby, not much distant from an Irish howl, and the words godly doggrell. Affectation of beauty, and killing, puts a fine woman by turns into all sorts of forms, appearances and attitudes, but amiable ones. She undoes by art, or rather by aukwardness, (for true art conceals itself) all that nature had done for her. Nature formed her almost an angel, and she, with infinite pains, makes herself a monkey. Therefore, this species of affectation is easily imitated, or taken off. Make as many and as ugly grimaces, motions and gestures as can be made, and take care that nature never peep out, and you represent coquetish affectation to the life.
Slothappears by yawning, dosing, snoring; the head dangling sometimes to one side, sometimes to the other; the arms and legs stretched out, and every sinew of the body unstrung; the eyes heavy, or closed; the words, if any, crawl out of the mouth but half formed, scarcely audible to any ear, and broken off in the middle by powerful sleep.
People who walk in their sleep (of which our inimitable Shakespear has, in his tragedy of MACBETH, drawn out a fine scene) are said to have their eyes open; though they are not, the more for that, conscious of any thing, but the dream which has got possession of their imagination. I never saw one of those persons, therefore cannot describe their manner from nature; but I suppose their speech is pretty much like that of persons dreaming, inarticulate, incoherent, and very different, in its tone, from what it is when waking.
Intoxicationshews itself by the eyes half shut, sleepy, stupid, inflamed. An idiot smile, a ridiculous surliness, an affected bravado, disgraces the bloated countenance. The mouth open tumbles out nonsense in heaps, without articulation enough for any ear to take it in, and unworthy of attention, if it could be taken In. The head seems too heavy for the neck. The arms dangle from the shoulders; as if they were almost cut away, and hung by shreds. The legs totter and bend at the knees, as ready to sink under the weight of the reeling body. And a general incapacity, corporeal and mental, exhibits human nature sunk below the brutal.
Anger, (violent) orRageexpresses itself with rapidity, interruption, noise, harshness, and trepidation. The neck stretched out; the head forward, often nodding and shaken in a menacing manner, against the object of the passion. The eyes red, inflamed, staring, rolling, and sparkling; the eyebrows drawn down over them; and the forehead wrinkled into clouds. The nostrils stretched wide; every vein swelled; every muscle strained; the breast heaving, and the breath fetched hard. The mouth open, and drawn on each side toward the ears, shewing the teeth in a gnashing posture. The face bloated, pale, red, or sometimes almost black. The feet stamping: the right arm often thrown out, and menacing with the clenched fist shaken, and a general end violent agitation of the whole body.
PeevishismorIll-natureis a lower degree of anger; and is therefore expressed in the above manner, only more moderate, with half sentences, and broken speeches, uttered hastily; the upper lip drawn up disdainfully; the eyes asquint upon the object of displeasure.
MaliceorSpite, sets the jaws, or gnashes with the teeth; sends blasting flashes from the eyes; draws the mouth toward the ears; clenches both fists, and bends the elbows in a straining manner. The tone of voice and expression, are much the same with that of anger; but the pitch not so loud.
Envyis a little more moderate in its gestures than malice, but much the same in kind.
Revengeexpresses itself as malice.
Cruelty. SeeAnger,Aversion,Maliceand the other irrascible passions.
Complainingas when one is under violent bodily pain, distorts the features; almost closes the eyes; sometimes raises them wishfully; opens the mouth; gnashes with the teeth; draws up the upper lip; draws down the head upon the breast, and the whole body together. The arms are violently bent at the elbows, and the fists strongly clenched. The voice is uttered in groans, lamentations, and violent screams. Extreme torture produces fainting, and death.
Fatiguefrom severe labour, gives a general languor to the whole body. The countenance is dejected. (SeeGrief.) The arms hang listless; the body (if sitting or lying along be not the posture) stoops, as in old-age. (SeeDotage.) The legs, if walking, are dragged heavily along, and seem at every step ready to bend under the weight of the body. The voice is weak, and the words hardly enough articulated to be understood.
Aversion, orHatred, expressed to, or of any person or thing, that is odious to the speaker, occasions his drawing back, as avoiding the approach of what he hates; the hands, at the same time, thrown out spread, as if to keep it off. The face turned away from that side toward which the hands are thrown out; the eyes looking angrily and asquint the same way the hands are directed; the eyebrows drawn downwards; the upper lip disdainfully drawn up; but the teeth set. The pitch of the voice loud; the tone chiding, unequal, surly, vehement. The sentences short and abrupt.
Commendation, orApprobationfrom a superior, puts on the aspect of love (excluding desire and respect) and expresses itself in a mild tone of voice; the arms gently spread; the palms of the hands toward the person approved. Exhorting or encouraging, as of an army by a general, is expressed with some part of the looks and action of courage.
Jealousywould be likely to be well expressed by one, who had often seen prisoners tortured in the dungeons of the inquisition, or who had seen what the dungeons of the inquisition are the best earthly emblem of; I mean Hell. For next to being in the Pope's or in Satan's prison, is the torture of him who is possessed with the spirit of jealousy. Being a mixture of passions directly contrary to one another, the person, whose soul is the seat of such confusion and tumult, must be in as much greater misery than Prometheus, with the vulture tearing his liver, as the pains of the mind are greater than those of the body. Jealousy is a ferment of love, hatred, hope, fear, shame, anxiety, suspicion, grief, pity, envy, pride, rage, cruelty, vengeance, madness, and if there be any other tormenting passion which can agitate the human mind. Therefore to express jealousy well, requires that one know how to represent justly all these passions by turns, (seeLove,Hatred, &c.) and often several of them together. Jealousy shews itself by restlessness, peevishness, thoughtfulness, anxiety, absence of mind. Sometimes it bursts out in piteous complaint and weeping; then a gleam of hope, that all is yet well, lights up the countenance into a momentary smile. Immediately the face, clouded with a general gloom, shews the mind overcast again with horrid suspicions and frightful imaginations. Then the arms are folded upon the breast; the fists violently clenched; the rolling, bloody eyes dart fury. He hurries to and fro; he has no more rest than a ship in a troubled sea, the sport of winds and waves. Again, he composes himself a little to reflect on the charms of the suspected person. She appears to his imagination like the sweetness of the rising dawn. Then his monster-breeding fancy represents her as false as she is fair. Then he roars out as one on the rack, when the cruel engine rends every joint, and every sinew bursts. Then he throws himself on the ground. He beats his head against the pavement. Then he springs up, and with the look and action of a fury bursting hot from the abyss, he snatches the instrument of death, and, after ripping up the bosom of the loved, suspected, hated, lamented, fair one, he stabs himself to the heart, and exhibits a striking proof, how terrible a creature a puny mortal is, when agitated by an infernal passion.
Dotageorinfirm old age, shews itself by talkativeness, boasting of the past, hollowness of the eyes and cheeks, dimness of sight, deafness, tremor of voice, the accents, through default of teeth, scarce intelligible; hams weak, knees tottering, head paralytic, hollow coughing, frequent expectoration, breathless wheezing, laborious groaning, the body stooping under the insupportable load of years, which soon shall crush it into the dust, from whence it had its origin.
Folly, that is, of a natural ideot, gives the face an habitual thoughtless, brainless grin. The eyes dance from object to object, without ever fixing steadily upon any one. A thousand different and incoherent passions, looks, gestures, speeches and absurdities, are played off every moment.
Distractionopens the eyes to a frightful wideness, rolls them hastily and wildly from object to object; distorts every feature; gnashes with the teeth; agitates all parts of the body; rolls in the dust; foams at the mouth; utters, with hideous bellowings, execrations, blasphemies, and all that is fierce and outrageous, rushes furiously on all who approach; and, if not restrained, tears its own fiesh, and destroys itself.
Sicknesshas infirmity and feebleness in every motion and utterance. The eyes dim, and almost closed; cheeks pale and hollow; the jaw fallen; the head hung down, as if too heavy to be supported by the neck. A general inertia prevails. The voice trembling; the utterance through the nose; every sentence accompanied with a groan; the hand shaking, and the knees tottering under the body; or the body stretched helpless on the bed.
Faintingproduces a sudden relaxation of all that holds the human frame together, every sinew and ligament unstrung. The colour flies from the vermilion cheek; the sparkling eye grows dim. Down the body drops, as helpless, and senseless, as a mass of clay, to which, by its colour and appearance, it seems hastening to resolve itself—Which leads me to conclude with:
Deaththe awful end of all flesh; which exhibits nothing in appearance different from what I have been just describing; for fainting continued ends in death,—a subject almost too serious to be made a matter of artificial imitation.
Lowerdegrees of every passion are to be expressed by more moderate exertions of voice and gesture; as every public speaker's discretion will suggest to him.
Mixedpassions, or emotions of the mind, require a mixed expression.Pity, for example, is composed of grief and love. It is therefore evident, that a correct speaker must, by his looks and gestures, and by the tone and pitch of his voice, express both grief and love, in expressing pity, and so of the rest.
It is to be remembered, that the action, in expressing the various humours and passions, for which I have here given rules, is to be suited to the age, sex, condition, and circumstances of the character. Violent anger, or rage, for example, is to be expressed with great agitation; (seeAnger) but the rage of an infirm old man, of a woman, and of a youth, are all different from one another, and from that of a man in the flower of his age, as every speaker's discretion will suggest. A hero may shew fear, or sensibility of pain; but not in the same manner as a girl would express those sensations. Grief may be expressed by a person reading a melancholy story or description of a room. It may be acted upon the stage. It may be dwelt upon by the pleader at the bar; or it may have a place in a sermon. The passion is still grief. But the manner of expressing it will be different in each of the speakers, if they have judgment.
A correct speaker does not make a movement of limb, or feature, for which he has not a reason. If he addresses heaven, he looks upward. If he speaks to his fellow-creatures, he looks round upon them. The spirit of what he says, or is said to him, appears in his look. If he expresses amazement, or would excite it, he lifts up his hands and eyes. If he invites to virtue and happiness, he spreads his arms, and looks benevolent. If he threatens the vengeance of heaven against vice, he bends his eye-brow into wrath and menaces with his arm and countenance. He does not needlessly saw the air with his arm, nor stab himself with his finger. He does not clap his right hand upon his breast, unless he has occasion to speak of himself, or to introduce conscience, or somewhat sentimental. He does not start back, unless he wants to express horror or aversion. He does not come forward, but when he has occasion to solicit. He does not raise his voice, but to express somewhat peculiarly emphatical. He does not lower it, but to contrast the raising of it. His eyes, by turns, according to the humour of the matter he has to express, sparkle fury, brighten into joy, glance disdain, melt into grief, frown disgust and hatred, languish into love, or glare distraction.