ake oneself understood, that is, clearness of speech and
of expression. This involves probably first of all, so far as
conducting is concerned, a voice that can be easily heard, even in a
fairly large room, and that carries with it the tone of authority. But
it includes also a good command of language so that one's ideas may be
expressed clearly, and one's commands given definitely. An important
point to be noted in this connection is that the conductor must be
able to exercise rigid self-control, so as not to become incoherent
under stress of anger, emergencies, or other excitement.

[Sidenote: THE THIRD ELEMENT IN LEADERSHIP]

The final element involved in leadership is a tremendous love of and
respect for the thing that is being done. Napoleon became a great
general because of his confidence in his own ability, and because of
his very great enthusiasm for his work. Lincoln became one of the
greatest statesmen of all times largely because of his earnestness,
his extraordinary love and respect for the common people, and his
unfaltering confidence in the justice of the cause for which the North
was contending. Pestalozzi could never have become one of the world's
most influential teachers if he had not felt that the thing he was
trying to do was a big thing, a vital thing in the life of his
country, and if he had not had a real love in his heart for his work
among the ragged and untrained urchins whom he gathered about him.

And for the same reason it is clear that no one can become a strong
and forceful conductor who does not have an overwhelming love of music
in his heart. We may go farther and say that no conductor can give a
really spirited reading of a musical composition if he does not feel
genuinely enthusiastic over the work being performed, and that one
reason for the sluggish response that musicians often make to the
conductor's baton is the mediocrity of the music which they are being
asked to perform. The conductor is not in sympathy with it (sometimes
without realizing this himself), and there is consequently no virility
in the playing or singing. The remedy for this state of affairs
consists, first, in allowing only those who have some taste in the
selection of music to conduct; and second, in inspiring all conductors
to take much more time and much greater pains in deciding upon the
works to be rehearsed. In directing a choir one may examine a dozen
cantatas, or twenty-five anthems, before one is found