“This stiff uniformity of voice is not only displeasing to the ear, but disappoints the effect of the discourse on the hearers; first, by an equal way of speaking, when the pronunciation has everywhere, in every word and every syllable, the same sound, it must inevitably render all parts of speech equal, and so put them on a very unjust level.  So that the power of the reasoning part, the lustre and ornament of the figures, the heart, warmth, and vigor of the passionate part being expressed all in the same tone, is flat and insipid, and lost in a supine, or at least unmusical pronunciation.  So that, in short, that which ought to strike and stir up the affections, because it is spoken all alike, without any distinction or variety, moves them not at all.”

Now, on the question of pronunciation there is something to be said, which, I think, in ordinary teaching is not sufficiently considered.  Pronunciation on the stage should be simple and unaffected, but not always fashioned rigidly according to a dictionary standard.  No less an authority than Cicero points out that pronunciation must vary widely according to the emotions to be expressed; that it may be broken or cut, with a varying or direct sound, and that it serves for the actor the purpose of color to the painter, from which to draw his variations.  Take the simplest illustration, the formal pronunciation of “A-h” is “Ah,” of “O-h” “Oh;” but you cannot stereotype the expression of emotion like this.  These exclamations are words of one syllable, but the speaker who is sounding the gamut of human feeling will not be restricted in his pronunciation by the dictionary rule.  It is said of Edmund Kean that he never spoke such ejaculations, but always sighed or groaned them.  Fancy an actor saying thus, “My Desdemona!  Oh, [)o]h, [)o]h!” Words are intended to express feelings and ideas, not to bind them in rigid fetters.  The accents of pleasure are different from the accents of pain, and if a feeling is more accurately expressed, as in nature, by a variation of sound not provided for by the laws of pronunciation, then such imperfect laws must be disregarded and nature vindicated.  The word should be the echo of the sense.

The force of an actor depends, of course, upon his physique; and it is necessary, therefore, that a good deal of attention should be given to bodily training.  Everything that develops suppleness, elasticity, and grace—­that most subtle charm—­should be carefully cultivated, and in this regard your admirable gymnasium is worth volumes of advice.  Sometimes there is a tendency to train the body at the expense of the mind, and the young actor with striking physical advantages must beware of regarding this fortunate endowment as his entire stock-in-trade.  That way folly lies, and the result may be too dearly purchased by the fame of a photographer’s window.  It is clear that the physique of actors must vary; there can be no military standard of proportions on