than with the matter of conversation; but on the other hand it is
distinguishable from them by the fact that it has more of a moral than
of an intellectual bearing; in other words, it reflects the movements
of the will. As an accompaniment of conversation it is like the bass
of a melody; and if, as in music, it keeps true to the progress of the
treble, it serves to heighten the effect.

In a conversation, the gesture depends upon the form in which the
subject-matter is conveyed; and it is interesting to observe that,
whatever that subject-matter may be, with a recurrence of the form,
the very same gesture is repeated. So if I happen to see--from my
window, say--two persons carrying on a lively conversation, without
my being able to catch a word, I can, nevertheless, understand the
general nature of it perfectly well; I mean, the kind of thing that is
being said and the form it takes. There is no mistake about it. The
speaker is arguing about something, advancing his reasons, then
limiting their application, then driving them home and drawing the
conclusion in triumph; or he is recounting his experiences, proving,
perhaps, beyond the shadow of a doubt, how much he has been injured,
but bringing the clearest and most damning evidence to show that
his opponents were foolish and obstinate people who would not be
convinced; or else he is telling of the splendid plan he laid, and how
he carried it to a successful issue, or perhaps failed because
the luck was against him; or, it may be, he is saying that he was
completely at a loss to know what to do, or that he was quick in
seeing some traps set for him, and that by insisting on his rights or
by applying a little force, he succeeded in frustrating and punishing
his enemies; and so on in hundreds of cases of a similar kind.

Strictly speaking, however, what I get from gesticulation alone is