oss 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