  If you have faithfully practised Parts One and Two, you have gained some control of voice, and can now begin elocution, or expression of thought and feeling. In each of the short extracts you will find some thought and feeling to express; and if you will take pains to understand thoroughly what you have to speak, and then speak earnestly as the thought and feeling prompts you, you will certainly improve. Speak to some person; and, if no one is present, imagine that there is, and talk to them: for you need never speak aloud, unless it is for some one besides yourself to hear. Your first endeavor as a speaker should be to make a pleasant quality of voice, so that you may make good listeners of your audience. The following exercises suggest pleasure, and let your voice suggest the sentiment. PLEASANT QUALITY.1.A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal: His eye begets occasion for his wit; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest, Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor) Delivers in such apt and gracious words, That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished, So sweet and voluble is his discourse. 2. There's something in a noble boy, A brave, free-hearted, careless one, With his unchecked, unbidden joy, His dread of books, and love of fun,— Unshaded by a thought of guile, And unrepressed by sadness,— Which brings me to my childhood back, As if I trod its very track, And felt its very gladness. 3. The scene had also its minstrels: the birds, those ministers and worshippers of Nature, were on the wing, filling the air with melody; while, like diligent little housewives, they ransacked the forest and field for materials for their housekeeping. 4. Let me play the fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man whose blood is warm within Sit like his grandsire, cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? 5. Across in my neighbor's window, with its drapings of satin and lace, I see, 'neath its flowing ringlets, a baby's innocent face. His feet, in crimson slippers, are tapping the polished glass; And the crowd in the street look upward, and nod and smile as they pass. 6. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patens of bright gold! There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim: Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. 7. A cheerful man is pre-eminently a useful man. He knows that there is much misery, but that misery is not the rule of life. He sees that in every state people may be cheerful; the lambs skip, birds sing and fly joyously, puppies play, kittens are full of joyance, the whole air is full of careering and rejoicing insects; that everywhere the good outbalances the bad, and that every evil that there is has its compensating balm. For other selections, see Baker's "Reading Club."
ARTICULATION.With pleasant quality you will make listeners; but you will soon weary them, unless you make them understand by clear articulation. You have made the organs of articulation elastic by practice of elementary sounds separately and in combination. In combinations you have made syllables, and these syllables make words, words make phrases, phrases make sentences, sentences make up a discourse, address, oration, &c. Syllables.—Every syllable contains a vowel, or its equivalent; as in the following word, which is separated by hyphens into syllables,—in-com-pre-hen-si-ble: you will hear a vowel-sound in each, the last syllable having the sound of l as an equivalent. Words.—A word may have one or more syllables; and, when it has two or more, one of them will receive slightly more force than the others, as in the word "common." Pronounce it, and you will give more force to "com" than "mon." This force applied is called accent. Accent.—In pronouncing words, you will notice that in Phrases.—Two or more words make a phrase; and a phrase gives you an idea, perhaps, needing a number of phrases to make complete sense. You should speak phrases just as you would a long word, without perceptible pause, and with more force on prominent words than others. Here is a sentence composed of two phrases: "Fear the Lord, and depart from evil." A poor reading of this would be, "Fear (pause) the Lord, (pause) and depart (pause) from evil." A good reading would be, "Fear the Lord, (pause) and depart from evil." Emphasis.—As in words you have primary and secondary accent, so in phrases you have what is known as emphasis. In the sentence just given, the words that had most force were "Lord" and "evil;" and less force, "fear" and "depart;" and little or no force, "the," "and," and "from." You may call this primary and secondary emphasis, the primary having, as in accent, most force. Sentences.—These phrases, or groups of words somewhat connected in idea, make sentences; and a sentence gives complete sense. As syllables make words, and in words you have an accented syllable; as words make phrases, and in phrases you have an emphatic word: so, in sentences composed of phrases, you have an important phrase; and this important phrase must be impressed upon the mind of the listener more strongly than any other. This is done by slightly added force and a trifle higher pitch; and, as you will readily see, the emphatic word of the important phrase is the emphatic word of the whole sentence. Thus you have the structure of sentences; and, if you proportion your force well, you will not fail to give the meaning correctly. In the following sentence, the phrases are "We ALL of us, in a great measure, create our own HAPPINESS, which is not half so much dependent upon SCENES and CIRCUMSTANCES as most people are apt to IMAGINE." In this sentence the important phrase is, "create our own happiness;" and the other phrases must be and are, by a good reader, subordinated to this one. This subordination of phrases to the principal one is made by lowering the pitch slightly, and lessening the force slightly on the subordinate phrases. It is naturally done if you'll talk the sentence understandingly. In the following sentences,— 1st, Sound each element of a word separately. 2d, Pronounce each word separately, with proper accent, being careful to give each element correctly. 3d, Read in phrases, remembering that each phrase should be pronounced as a long word, without pause, and with emphasis. 4th, Read in sentences, subordinating all other phrases to the principal phrase. 1. When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions. 2. There's such divinity doth hedge a king, That treason can but keep to what it would, Act little of his will. 3. Grandfather is old. His back, also, is bent. In the street he sees crowds of men looking dreadfully young, and walking dreadfully swift. He wonders where all the old folks are. Once, when a boy, he could not find people young enough for him, and sidled up to any young stranger he met on Sundays, wondering why God made the world so old. Now he goes to Commencement to see his grandsons take their degree, and is astonished at the youth of the audience. "This is new," he says: "it did not use to be so fifty years before." 4. Press on! surmount the rocky steeps; Climb boldly o'er the torrent's arch: He fails alone who feebly creeps; He wins who dares the hero's march. 5. Where I have come, great clerks have purposed To greet me with premeditated welcomes; Where I have seen them shiver and look pale, Make periods in the midst of sentences, Throttle their practised accent in their fears, And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off, Not paying me a welcome, trust me, sweet, Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome; And in the modesty of fearful duty I read as much as from the rattling tongue Of saucy and audacious eloquence. 6. Be not lulled, my countrymen, with vain imaginations or idle fancies. To hope for the protection of Heaven, without doing our duty, and exerting ourselves as becomes men, is to mock the Deity. Wherefore had man his reason, if it were not to direct him? wherefore his strength, if it be not his protection? To banish folly and luxury, correct vice and immorality, and stand immovable in the freedom in which we are free indeed, is eminently the duty of each individual at this day. When this is done, we may rationally hope for an answer to our prayers—for the whole counsel of God, and the invincible armor of the Almighty. 7. The quality of mercy is not strained: It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed,— It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes. 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown: His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings. But mercy is above this sceptred sway: It is enthroned in the hearts of kings; It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice. FULNESS AND POWER.Fulness of voice is necessary, that, when you are speaking in a large hall, your voice may be powerful. Most persons could make themselves heard, and, with good articulation, understood; but yet they would lack power, because the voice wants fulness. The extracts given below will suggest to you the necessity of a full voice to express them well. Observe these directions in trying to get a full, energetic tone:— 1st, Correct speaker's position, take active chest, and keep it. 2d, Take full breath, breathe often, and control it. (See "Holding Breath.") 3d, Articulate perfectly. 4th, Use conversational and lower tones of the voice. 5th, Fix the mind on some distant spot, and speak as if you wished to make some one hear at that point. 6th, Remember to be very energetic, and yet have it seem to a looker-on or listener to be done without the slightest effort. 1. O'Brien's voice is hoarse with joy, as, halting, he commands, "Fix bay'nets—charge!" Like mountain-storm rush on these fiery bands. On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy! hark to that fierce huzza! "Revenge! remember Limerick! dash down the Sassenagh!" Like lions leaping at a fold when mad with hunger's pang, Right up against the English line the Irish exiles sprang. The English strove with desperate strength, paused, rallied, staggered, fled: The green hill-side is matted close with dying and with dead. On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, like eagles in the sun, With bloody plumes the Irish stand: the field is fought and won. 2. Thou too sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union strong and great! Humanity, with all its fears, With all its hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate. We know what master laid thy keel, What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast and sail and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope. 3. Oh! young Lochinvar is come out of the west: Through all the wide border his steed was the best; And, save his good broad-sword, he weapon had none; He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 4. One song employs all nations; and all cry, "Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us!" The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks Shout to each other; and the mountain-tops From distant mountains catch the flying joy; Till, nation after nation taught the strain, Earth rolls the rapturous hosanna round. 5. "But I defy him!—let him come!" Down rang the massy cup, While from its sheath the ready blade Came flashing half way up; And, with the black and heavy plumes Scarce trembling on his head, There, in his dark, carved, oaken chair, Old Rudiger sat—dead! 6. All hail to our glorious ensign! Courage to the heart, and strength to the hand, to which in all time it shall be intrusted! May it ever wave in honor, in unsullied glory, and patriotic hope, on the dome of the capitol, on the country's stronghold, on the entented plain, on the wave-rocked topmast! 7. Rejoice, you men of Angiers! ring your bells! King John, your king and England's, doth approach, Commander of this hot malicious day! Their armors that marched hence so silver bright Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood; There stuck no plume in any English crest That is removed by a staff of France; Our colors do return in those same hands That did display them when we first marched forth; And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come Our lusty English, all with purpled hands Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes. INFLECTION.Inflection is a slide of voice, either up or down in pitch, or both, on the accented syllable of a word. You have learned in previous pages what kinds there are. Major inflections express strength: minor express weakness. Rising inflections refer to something to come that shall complete the sense. If you speak a phrase that needs another to complete its meaning, you will use a rising inflection to connect them. If you defer to another's will, opinion, or knowledge, in what you say, you will use a rising inflection. If you speak of two or more things, thinking of them as a whole, and not separately, you use a rising inflection. Falling inflections are used when a phrase or sentence is complete in itself. If you state your own will, opinion, or knowledge, you will use falling inflection. If you speak of two or more things separately, wishing to make each one by itself distinct in the hearer's mind, you will use falling inflections. Circumflex inflections, being composed of rising and falling inflections combined, are doubtful in meaning; for if rising means one thing, and falling means another, a combination must mean doubt. It expresses irony, sarcasm, &c. Monotone is a varying of inflection within very narrow limits, and comes as near to chanting as the voice can, and still retain the expressiveness of inflection in speech. It expresses any slow-moving emotions, as grandeur, awe, solemnity, &c. Practise the short extracts under each head until you are sure you give the right inflection in the right place. MAJOR RISING INFLECTION. 1. Would the influence of the Bible, even if it were not the record of a divine revelation, be to render princes more tyrannical, or subjects more ungovernable; the rich more insolent, or the poor more disorderly? Would it make worse parents or children, husbands or wives, masters or servants, friends or neighbors? 2. But why pause here? Is so much ambition praiseworthy, and more criminal? Is it fixed in nature that the limits of this empire should be Egypt on the one hand, the Hellespont and Euxine on the other? Were not Suez and Armenia more natural limits? Or hath empire no natural limit, but is broad as the genius that can devise, and the power that can win? 3. Shine they for aught but earth, These silent stars? And, when they sprang to birth, Who broke the bars And let their radiance out To kindle space, When rang God's morning shout O'er the glad race? Are they all desolate, These silent stars; Hung in their spheres by fate, Which nothing mars? Or are they guards of God, Shining in prayer, On the same path they've trod Since light was there? MAJOR FALLING INFLECTIONS. 1. Stand up erect! Thou hast the form And likeness of thy God: who more? A soul as dauntless mid the storm Of daily life, a heart as warm And pure, as breast e'er wore. 2. Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum; See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair, As children from a bear, the Voices shunning him; Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus,— Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear, Though you were born in Rome: his bloody brow With his mailed hand then wiping, forth he goes, Like to a harvest-man that's tasked to mow Or all, or lose his hire. 3. Mahomet still lives in his practical and disastrous influence in the East. Napoleon still is France, and France is almost Napoleon. Martin Luther's dead dust sleeps at Wittenberg; but Martin Luther's accents still ring through the churches of Christendom. Shakspeare, Byron, and Milton, all live in their influence,—for good or evil. The apostle from his chair, the minister from his pulpit, the martyr from his flame-shroud, the statesman from his cabinet, the soldier in the field, the sailor on the deck, who all have passed away to their graves, still live in the practical deeds that they did, in the lives they lived, and in the powerful lessons that they left behind them. MINOR RISING INFLECTIONS. 1. "Let me see him once before he dies? Let me hear his voice once more? I entreat you, let me enter." 2. Stay, lady, stay, for mercy's sake, And hear a helpless orphan's tale! Ah! sure my looks must pity wake: 'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale. Yet I was once a mother's pride, And my brave father's hope and joy; But in the Nile's proud fight he died, And I am now an orphan-boy. 3. They answer, "Who is God that he should hear us While the rushing of the iron wheels is stirred? When we sob aloud, the human creatures near us Pass by, hearing not, or answer not a word. Is it likely God, with angels singing round him, Hears our weeping, any more?" MINOR FALLING INFLECTIONS. 1. God forbid that we should outlive the love of our children! Rather let us die while their hearts are a part of our own, that our grave may be watered with their tears, and our love linked with their hopes of heaven. 2. Her suffering ended with the day; Yet lived she at its close, And breathed the long, long night away In statue-like repose. But, when the sun in all his state Illumed the eastern skies, She passed through glory's morning-gate, And walked in paradise. 3. Father cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in heaven. If that be true, I shall see my boy again; For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, To him that did but yesterday suspire, There was not such a gracious creature born. But now will canker-sorrow eat my bud, And chase the native beauty from his cheek; And he will look as hollow as a ghost, As dim and meagre as an ague's fit: And so he'll die; and, rising so again, When I shall meet him in the court of heaven I shall not know him: therefore never, never Must I behold my pretty Arthur more. CIRCUMFLEX INFLECTION. 1. Were I in England now (as once I was), and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man: any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. 2. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages MONOTONE. 1. When for me the silent oar Parts the Silent River, And I stand upon the shore Of the strange Forever, Shall I miss the loved and known? Shall I vainly seek mine own? 2. Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell, with all your feeble light! Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, pale empress of the night! And thou, effulgent orb of day, in brighter flames arrayed, My soul, which springs beyond thy sphere, no more demands thy aid. Ye stars are but the shining dust of my divine abode, The pavement of those heavenly courts where I shall reign with God. 3. Father of earth and heaven, I call thy name! Round me the smoke and shout of battle roll; My eyes are dazzled with the rustling flame: Father, sustain an untried soldier's soul. Or life or death, whatever be the goal That crowns or closes round this struggling hour, Thou know'st, if ever from my spirit stole One deeper prayer, 'twas that no cloud might lower On my young fame. Oh, hear, God of eternal power! PITCH.The general pitch of voice varies with the emotion. Some feelings we are prompted to express in the high tones, as joy; some in the lower tones, as awe: but, without practice, very few have command of the higher and lower tones; and, when they attempt to read, they cannot give the requisite variety to make it expressive. It is important that these exercises should be studied until you can as easily read in your highest and lowest tones as in your natural conversational or middle tones. In high pitch, read in as high pitch as you can, and at the same time keep the tone pure, and you will find your voice gradually gain in compass. In middle pitch, read in your conversational tone, with earnestness. In low pitch, read somewhat lower than middle pitch, and make as full a tone as you can. In very low pitch, read as low in pitch as you can with ease, and do not try to make it loud or full until you have had considerable practice. Don't pinch or strain the throat: if you do, the quality will be bad. HIGH PITCH. 1. Merrily swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name,— Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, Spink, spank, spink! Snug and safe is that nest of ours Hidden among the summer flowers: Chee, chee, chee! 2. Oh! did you see him riding down, And riding down, while all the town Came out to see, came out to see, And all the bells rang mad with glee? Oh! did you hear those bells ring out, The bells ring out, the people shout? And did you hear that cheer on cheer That over all the bells rang clear? 3. I am that merry wanderer of the night: I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, When I, a fat and bean-fed horse, beguile, Neighing in likeness of a silly foal. And sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab; And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, And on her withered dew-lap pour the ale. MIDDLE PITCH. 1. The honey-bee that wanders all day long The field, the woodland, and the garden o'er, To gather in his fragrant winter-store, Humming in calm content his quiet song, Sucks not alone the rose's glowing breast, The lily's dainty cup, the violet's lips; But from all rank and noisome weeds he sips The single drop of sweetness ever pressed Within the poison chalice. Thus, if we Seek only to draw forth the hidden sweet In all the varied human flowers we meet In the wide garden of Humanity, And, like the bee, if home the spoil we bear, Hived in our hearts, it turns to nectar there. 2. Now the laughing, jolly Spring began to show her buxom face in the bright morning. The buds began slowly to expand their close winter folds, the dark and melancholy woods to assume an almost imperceptible purple tint; and here and there a little chirping blue-bird hopped about the orchards. Strips of fresh green appeared along the brooks, now released from their icy fetters; and nests of little 3. I know, the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends; that the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that he that hath learned no wit by nature or art may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred. LOW PITCH. 1. Mid the flower-wreathed tombs I stand, Bearing lilies in my hand. Comrades, in what soldier-grave Sleeps the bravest of the brave? Is it he who sank to rest With his colors round his breast? Friendship makes his tomb a shrine: Garlands veil it; ask not mine. 2. God, thou art merciful. The wintry storm, The cloud that pours the thunder from its womb, But show the sterner grandeur of thy form. The lightnings glancing through the midnight gloom, To Faith's raised eye as calm, as lovely, come As splendors of the autumnal evening star, As roses shaken by the breeze's plume, When like cool incense comes the dewy air, And on the golden wave the sunset burns afar. 3. O thou Eternal One! whose presence bright All space doth occupy, all motion guide; Unchanged through Time's all-devastating flight; Thou only God!—there is no God beside! Being above all beings! Three-in-one! Whom none can comprehend, and none explore; Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone; Embracing all, supporting, ruling o'er; Being whom we call God, and know no more! VERY LOW PITCH. 1. When in the silent night all earth lies hushed In slumber; when the glorious stars shine out, Each star a sun, each sun a central light Of some fair system, ever wheeling on In one unbroken round, and that again Revolving round another sun; while all, Suns, stars, and systems, proudly roll along In one majestic, ever-onward course, In space uncircumscribed and limitless,— Oh! think you then the undebased soul Can calmly give itself to sleep,—to rest? 2. Go stand upon the heights at Niagara, and listen in awe-struck silence to that boldest most earnest and eloquent, of all Nature's orators! And what is Niagara, with its plunging waters and its mighty roar, but the oracle of God, the whisper of His voice who is revealed in the Bible as sitting above the water-floods forever? 3. The drums are all muffled; the bugles are still; There's a pause in the valley, a halt on the hill; And the bearers of standards swerve back with a thrill Where the sheaves of the dead bar the way: For a great field is reaped, heaven's garners to fill; And stern Death holds his harvest to-day. QUALITY.As there are all kinds and qualities of emotions, so there are all kinds and qualities of voice to express them. The shade and varieties of these qualities are as infinite in number as the emotions they express. We need, however, in practice, to make but four general divisions,—whisper, aspirate, pure, and orotund. The whisper expresses secrecy, fear, and like emotions. It is seldom required in reading, as the aspirate is expressive of the same, and you would be likely to use that instead of whisper. You should practise the whisper until you can make it very clear, and free from all impurity, or sound of throat, and full, so as to be heard at a distance. In both whisper and aspirate leave the throat free and open; and be energetic, remembering that force is WHISPER. 1.Deep stillness fell on all around: Through that dense crowd was heard no sound Of step or word. 2. How dark it is! I cannot seem to see The faces of my flock. Is that the sea That murmurs so? or is it weeping? Hush, My little children! God so loved the world, He gave his Son: so love ye one another. Love God and man. Amen! 3. Hush! 'tis a holy hour! The quiet room Seems like a temple; while yon soft lamp sheds A faint and starry radiance through the gloom And the sweet stillness down on bright young heads, With all their clustering locks untouched by care, And bowed, as flowers are bowed with night, in prayer. ASPIRATE. 1. Hush! draw the curtain,—so! She is dead, quite dead, you see. Poor little lady! She lies With the light gone out of her eyes; But her features still wear that soft, Gray, meditative expression Which you must have noticed oft. 2. Lord of the winds! I feel thee nigh; I know thy breath in the burning sky; And I wait with a thrill in every vein For the coming of the hurricane. And, lo! on the wing of the heavy gales, Through the boundless arch of heaven, he sails: Silent and slow, and terribly strong, The mighty shadow is borne along, Like the dark eternity to come; While the world below, dismayed and dumb, Through the calm of the thick hot atmosphere Looks up at its gloomy folds with fear. 3. 'Tis midnight's holy hour; and silence now Is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er The still and pulseless world. Hark! on the winds The bell's deep tones are swelling: 'tis the knell Of the departed year. No funeral train Is sweeping past: yet on the stream and wood, With melancholy light, the moonbeams rest Like a pale, spotless shroud; the air is stirred As by a mourner's sigh; and on yon cloud, That floats so still and placidly through heaven, The spirits of the seasons seem to stand,— Young Spring, bright Summer, Autumn's solemn form, And Winter with its aged locks,—and breathe, In mournful cadences that come abroad Like the far wind-harp's wild and touching wail, A melancholy dirge o'er the dead year, Gone from the earth forever. PURE. 1. Your voiceless lips, O flowers! are living preachers, Each cup a pulpit, and each leaf a book, Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers In loneliest nook. 2. Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light; The year is dying in the night: Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old; ring in the new; Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going; let him go: Ring out the false, ring in the true. 3. Was it the chime of a tiny bell That came so sweet to my dreaming ear, Like the silvery tones of a fairy's shell, That he winds on the beach, so mellow and clear, When the winds and the waves lie together asleep, And the moon and the fairy are watching the deep,— She dispensing her silvery light, And he his notes as silvery quite,— While the boatman listens, and ships his oar, To catch the music that comes from the shore? Hark! the notes on my ear that play Are set to words: as they float, they say, "Passing away, passing away!" OROTUND. 1. Approach and behold while I lift from his sepulchre its covering. Ye admirers of his greatness, ye emulous of his talents and his fame, approach, and behold him now. How pale! how silent! No martial bands admire the adroitness of his movements, no fascinating throng weep and melt and tremble at his eloquence. Amazing change! A shroud, a coffin, a narrow subterraneous cabin,—this is all that now remains of Hamilton. And is this all that remains of him? During a life so transitory, what lasting monument, then, can our fondest hopes erect! 2.A seraph by the throne In the full glory stood. With eager hand He smote the golden harp-strings, till a flood Of harmony on the celestial air Welled forth unceasing: then with a great voice He sang the "Holy, holy, evermore, Lord God Almighty!" and the eternal courts Thrilled with the rapture; and the hierarchies, Angel and rapt archangel, throbbed and burned With vehement adoration. Higher yet Higher, with rich magnificence of sound, To its full strength; and still the infinite heavens Rang with the "Holy, holy, evermore!" 3. God, thou art mighty. At thy footstool bound, Lie, gazing to thee, Chance and Life and Death. Nor in the angel-circle flaming round, Nor in the million worlds that blaze beneath, Is one that can withstand thy wrath's hot breath. Woe in thy frown; in thy smile victory. Hear my last prayer. I ask no mortal wreath: Let but these eyes my rescued country see; Then take my spirit, All-Omnipotent, to thee.
MOVEMENT.By different emotions you are prompted to speak words in quick or slow utterance, as in joy or anger you would be prompted to utter words quickly; while in majesty, sublimity, awe, you would speak slowly. You should practise movement, that you may be able to read rapidly and with perfect articulation, and also to read slowly with proper phrasing. In quick movement, read as fast as you can with proper articulation, phrasing, and emphasis. In moderate movement, read as in ordinary earnest conversation. In slow and very slow movement, phrase well, as in these the emphatic words have the longest time given to them, the secondarily emphatic ones less time, and the connecting words the least time; and it is a great art to proportion them rightly. If you do not do the latter, you will drawl. QUICK MOVEMENT. 1. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Rescue my castle before the hot day Brightens to blue from its silvery gray: Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! 2. But hark! above the beating of the storm Peals on the startled ear the fire-alarm. Yon gloomy heaven's aflame with sudden light; And heart-beats quicken with a strange affright. From tranquil slumber springs, at duty's call, The ready friend no danger can appall: Fierce for the conflict, sturdy, true, and brave, He hurries forth to battle and to save. 3.After him came, spurring hard, A gentleman almost forespent with speed, That stopped by me to breathe his bloodied horse. He asked the way to Chester; and of him I did demand what news from Shrewsbury. He told me that rebellion had bad luck, And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold: With that he gave his able horse the head, And, bending forward, struck his armed heels Against the panting sides of his poor jade Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so, He seemed, in running, to devour the way, Staying no longer question. MODERATE MOVEMENT. 1. Yes, Tom's the best fellow that ever you knew. Just listen to this:— When the old mill took fire, and the flooring fell through, And I with it, helpless there, full in my view What do you think my eyes saw through the fire, That crept along, crept along, nigher and nigher, But Robin, my baby-boy, laughing to see The shining? He must have come there after me, Troddled alone from the cottage. 2. Oratory, as it consists in the expression of the countenance, graces of attitude and motion, and intonation of voice, although it is altogether superficial and ornamental, will always command admiration; yet it deserves little veneration. Flashes of wit, coruscations of imagination, and gay pictures,—what are they? Strict truth, rapid reason, and pure integrity, are the only essential ingredients in oratory. I flatter myself that Demosthenes, by his "action, action, action," meant to express the same opinion. 3. Waken, voice of the land's devotion! Spirit of freedom, awaken all! Ring, ye shores, to the song of ocean! Rivers, answer! and, mountains, call! The golden day has come: Let every tongue be dumb That sounded its malice, or murmured its fears. She hath won her story; She wears her glory: We crown her the land of a hundred years! SLOW MOVEMENT. 1. Within this sober realm of leafless trees The russet year inhaled the dreamy air, Like some tanned reaper in his hour of ease When all the fields are lying brown and bare. 2. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head. 3. Father, guide me! Day declines; Hollow winds are in the pines; Darkly waves each giant bough O'er the sky's last crimson glow; Hushed is now the convent's bell, Which erewhile, with breezy swell, From the purple mountains bore Greeting to the sunset shore; Now the sailor's vesper-hymn Dies away. Father, in the forest dim Be my stay! VERY SLOW MOVEMENT. 1. Toll, toll, toll, Thou bell by billows swung! And night and day thy warning words Repeat with mournful tongue! Toll for the queenly boat Wrecked on yon rocky shore: Seaweed is in her palace-halls; She rides the surge no more. 2. Now o'er the drowsy earth still night prevails; Calm sleep the mountain-tops and shady vales, The rugged cliffs and hollow glens. The wild beasts slumber in their dens, The cattle on the hill. Deep in the sea The countless finny race and monster brood Tranquil repose. Even the busy bee Forgets her daily toil. The silent wood No more with noisy form of insect rings; And all the feathered tribes, by gentle sleep subdued, Roost in the glade, and hang their drooping wings. 3.My Father, God, lead on! Calmly I follow where thy guiding hand Directs my steps. I would not trembling stand, Though all before the way Is dark as night: I stay My soul on thee, and say, Father, I trust thy love: lead on! FORCE.Every emotion which you have you feel more or less intensely, and that intensity is expressed through the force of the voice. The degree of force with which you speak will be according to the degree of intensity of emotion; and even in the gentlest tone you can express as forcibly as in the loudest. According to your strength of body and mind, and intensity of feeling, you have been accustomed to express in a strong or feeble voice. Force needs to be practised to enable you to fill a large hall with your gentlest tone, and to make very loud tones without straining of throat. In gentle force, sustain the breath well, as in fulness and power, observing directions there given; and make your tone soft and pure. In moderate force, be as energetic as in earnest conversation. In loud and very loud force, observe directions under "Fulness and Power." GENTLE FORCE. 1. A noise as of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. 2. O blithe new-comer! I have heard, I hear thee, and rejoice: O cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice? Thrice welcome, darling of the spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery. 3. Around this lovely valley rise The purple hills of Paradise; Oh! softly on yon banks of haze Her rosy face the Summer lays; Becalmed along the azure sky The argosies of Cloud-land lie, Whose shores, with many a shining rift, Far off their pearl-white peaks uplift. MODERATE FORCE. 1. Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed, Wearing a bright black wedding-coat: White are his shoulders, and white his crest. Hear him call, in his merry note, Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, Spink, spank, spink! Look, what a nice new coat is mine! Sure there was never a bird so fine. Chee, chee, chee! 2. O young men and women! there is no picture of ideal excellence of manhood and womanhood that I ever draw that seems too high, too beautiful, for your young hearts. What aspirations there are for the good, the true, the fair, and the holy! The instinctive affections—how beautiful they are, with all their purple prophecy of new homes and generations of immortals that are yet to be! The high instincts of reason, of conscience, of love, of religion,—how beautiful and grand they are in the young heart! 3. She was a darling little thing: I worshipped her outright. When in my arms she smiling lay; When on my knees she climbed in play; As crooning songs I used to sing; When on my back she gayly rode, Then strong beneath its precious load; When at my side, in summer days, She gambolled in her childish plays; When, throughout all the after-years, I watched with trembling hopes and fears The infant to a woman grow,— I worshipped then, as I do now, My life's delight. LOUD FORCE. 1. Hark to the bugle's roundelay! Boot and saddle! Up and away! Mount and ride as ye ne'er rode before; Spur till your horses' flanks run gore; Ride for the sake of human lives; Ride as ye would were your sisters and wives Cowering under their scalping-knives. Boot and saddle! Away, away! 2. News of battle! news of battle! Hark! 'tis ringing down the street, And the archways and the pavement Bear the clang of hurrying feet. News of battle!—who hath brought it? News of triumph!—who should bring Tidings from our noble army, Greetings from our gallant king! 3. And, lo! from the assembled crowd There rose a shout, prolonged and loud, That to the ocean seemed to say, "Take her, O bridegroom old and gray! Take her to thy protecting arms, With all her youth and all her charms." VERY LOUD FORCE. 1. "Now, men! now is your time!" "Make ready! take aim! fire!" 2. Up the hillside, down the glen, Rouse the sleeping citizen, Summon out the might of men! Clang the bells in all your spires! On the gray hills of your sires Fling to heaven your signal-fires! Oh, for God and Duty stand, Heart to heart, and hand to hand, Round the old graves of your land! 3. Now for the fight! now for the cannon-peal! Forward, through blood and toil and cloud and fire! Glorious the shout, the shock, the crash of steel, The volley's roll, the rocket's blasting spire! They shake; like broken waves their squares retire. On them, hussars! Now give them rein and heel! Think of the orphaned child, the murdered sire! Earth cries for blood. In thunder on them wheel! This hour to Europe's fate shall set the triumph seal. STRESS.In expressing your emotions, the voice is ejected in various ways; perhaps in a jerky or trembling or flowing manner, as may be, depending on the kind of emotion you feel. This is called "Stress;" and you have learned how, mechanically, to make it. Radical Stress is used when you try to impress upon others your exact meaning. Practise it with that thought in your mind. Median Stress is used in appeal to the best affections, and expresses agreeable emotions. The swell comes on emphatic words. Terminal Stress is used in expressions of anger, petulance, impatience, and the like. Thorough Stress is used in calling to persons at a long distance, but has little place in expression. It is frequently substituted by bad readers or speakers for Median or Terminal Stress. Compound Stress is used in strong passion; and being a compound of Radical and Terminal Stress, and used with circumflex inflections, it combines the meaning of them all, as sarcasm, irony, &c., mixed with anger, impatience, doubt, &c. Tremolo Stress is used in excessive emotion; as joy, anger, sorrow, in excess, would cause the voice to tremble. You should practise this in order to avoid it, as, when Tremolo does not RADICAL STRESS. 1. Hark, hark! the lark sings mid the silvery blue: Behold her flight, proud man, and lowly bow. 2. There is the act of utterance, a condition that exists between you and myself. I speak, and you hear; but how? The words issue from my lips, and reach your ears; but what are those words? Volumes of force communicated to the atmosphere, whose elastic waves carry them to fine recipients in your own organism. But still I ask, How? How is it that these volumes of sound should convey articulate meaning, and carry ideas from my mind into your own? 3. I call upon you, fathers, by the shades of your ancestors, by the dear ashes which repose in this precious soil, by all you are and all you hope to be,—resist every object of disunion; resist every encroachment upon your liberties; resist every attempt to fetter your consciences, or smother your public schools, or extinguish your system of public instruction. MEDIAN STRESS. 1. The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; The world, and they that dwell therein: For he hath founded it upon the seas, And established it upon the floods. 2. Oh divine, oh delightful legacy of a spotless reputation! Rich is the inheritance it leaves; pious the example it testifies; pure, precious, and imperishable the hope which it inspires. Can there be conceived a more atrocious injury than to filch from its possessor this inestimable benefit; to rob society of its charm, and solitude of its solace; not only to outlaw life, but to attaint death, converting the very grave, the refuge of the sufferer, into the gate of infamy and of shame? 3. How sleep the brave who sink to rest With all their country's wishes blest! Returns to deck their hallowed mould, It there shall dress a sweeter sod Than blooming Fancy ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung: There Honor walks, a pilgrim gray, To deck the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall a while repair To dwell a weeping hermit there. TERMINAL STRESS. 1. I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak: I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more: I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield To Christian intercessors. 2. Nor sleep nor sanctuary, Being naked, sick, nor fane nor capitol, The prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice, Embarkments all of fury, shall lift up Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it At home upon my brother's guard,—even there, Against the hospitable cannon, would I Wash my fierce hand in his heart. 3. A plague upon them! Wherefore should I curse them? Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan, I would invent as bitter-searching terms, As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear, Delivered strongly through my fixÈd teeth, With full as many signs of deadly hate, As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave: My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words; Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint; My hair be fixed on end, as one distract; Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban; And even now my burdened heart would break, Should I not curse them. THOROUGH STRESS. 1. "Ho, Starbuck and Pickney and Tenterden! Run for your shallops, gather your men, Scatter your boats on the lower bay!" 2. "Run! run for your lives, high up on the land! Away, men and children! up quick, and be gone! The water's broke loose! it is chasing me on!" 3. They strike! Hurrah! the fort has surrendered! Shout, shout, my warrior-boy, And wave your cap, and clap your hands for joy! Cheer answer cheer, and bear the cheer about. Hurrah, hurrah, for the fiery fort is ours! "Victory, victory, victory!" COMPOUND STRESS. 1. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward, Thou little valiant great in villany! Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame, And hang a calf's skin on those recreant limbs. 2. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and, if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? 3. Think you a little din can daunt mine ears? Have I not in my time heard lions roar? Have I not heard the sea, puffed up with winds, Rage like an angry boar, chafÈd with sweat? Have I not heard great ordnance in the field, And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? Have I not in a pitchÈd battle heard Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpet's clang? And do you tell me of a woman's tongue, That gives not half so great a blow to the ear As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire? TREMOLO STRESS. 1. There's nothing in this world can make me joy: Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. 2. O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives. Stitch, stitch, stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt; Sewing at once, with a double thread, A shroud as well as a shirt. 3. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form: Then have I reason to be fond of grief. TRANSITION.The changes from one kind of force to another, or one pitch to another, or one movement to another, or one quality to another, are many in expressive reading; and these changes are called "Transition." To practise it is very useful in breaking up monotony of voice, and adding expressiveness to it. In practice of these short extracts, you are showing the benefit of practice in quality, pitch, movement, and force. Put yourself into the thought and feeling, and vary the voice as that, guided by common sense, may suggest to you.
A good reader or speaker will vary his or her voice in the elements of emotional expression (that is, pitch, quality, movement, stress, force), on words, phrases, and sentences, in such a manner that the listeners get a suggestion of the meaning of a word by the sound of it. For instance, the words bright, glad, joyful, dull, sad, weak, may be pronounced in such a manner as to suggest by the quality of voice used their meaning; and, in the same manner, phrases and whole sentences may have variation in voice so as to suggest their meaning. This is modulation. To modulate well, first, you must use your imagination, to form a perfect picture in your own mind of what you wish to describe, just as you would if you were an artist, and were intending to paint an ideal picture; and, in reality, you are an artist, for you paint with words and tones. Secondly, you should understand the exact meaning of each word, and, THE BROOK. 1. I come from haunts of coot and hern; 2. I make a sudden sally, 3. And sparkle out among the fern 4. To bicker down a valley. 5. By thirty hills I hurry down, 6. Or slip between the ridges; 7. By twenty thorps, a little town, 8. And half a hundred bridges. 9. Till last by Philip's farm I flow 10. To join the brimming river; 11. For men may come, and men may go, 12. But I go on forever. 13. I chatter over stony ways 14. In little sharps and trebles; 15. I bubble into eddying bays; 16. I babble on the pebbles. 17. With many a curve my banks I fret, 18. By many a field and fallow, 19. And many a fairy foreland set 20. With willow-weed and mallow. 21. I chatter, chatter, as I flow 22. To join the brimming river; 23. For men may come, and men may go, 24. But I go on forever. 25. I wind about, and in and out, 26. With here a blossom sailing, 27. And here and there a lusty trout, 29. And here and there a foamy flake 30. Upon me as I travel; 31. With many a silvery waterbreak 32. Above the golden gravel; 33. And draw them all along, and flow, 34. To join the brimming river; 35. For men may come, and men may go, 36. But I go on forever. 37. I steal by lawns and grassy plots; 38. I slide by hazel covers; 39. I move the sweet forget-me-nots 40. That grow for happy lovers. 41. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, 42. Among my skimming swallows; 43. I make the netted sunbeams dance 44. Against my sandy shallows. 45. I murmur under moon and stars 46. In brambly wildernesses; 47. I linger by my shingly bars; 48. I loiter round my cresses; 49. And out again I curve and flow 50. To join the brimming river; 51. For men may come, and men may go, 52. But I go on forever. As a whole, this piece requires for quality of voice the pure tone; force, gentle; movement, moderate; pitch, middle; stress, median. The variations in modulation must be from these, and will be mostly variations in quality, movement, and pitch. Lines 2 to 6. Movement, quick; pitch, high; with quality changing on words sudden, sparkle, bicker, hurry, slip, in such a way as to suggest the meaning of the word. Lines 7 to 12. Movement, moderate; pitch, middle. Lines 13 to 16. Movement, quick; pitch, high; the words chatter, stony, sharps, trebles, bubble, babble, spoken with suggestion of their meaning. Lines 17 to 20. Movement, moderate; pitch, middle. Lines 21 to 24. Movement, quick; pitch, high; make quality suggest on chatter, brimming. Lines 25 to 28. Movement, slow; pitch, middle; change to suggestive quality on wind, blossom, lusty. Lines 29 to 36. Movement, moderate; pitch, middle; suggestive quality on foamy, silvery, golden, brimming. Lines 37 to 40. Movement, slow; pitch, low; suggestive quality on steal, slide, move, happy. Lines 41, 42. Movement, pitch, quality, all varied on words slip, slide, gloom, glance. Lines 43, 44. Movement, quick; pitch, high; suggestive quality on dance, shallows. Lines 45 to 48. Movement, slow; pitch, low; quality, very slightly aspirate; suggestive quality on murmur, linger, loiter. Lines 49 to 52. Movement, moderate; pitch, middle; suggestive quality on brimming. This analysis is very imperfect, as it is impossible in words to explain it. What modulation requires is, as a popular author says, "genius and sense" on your part, and you will be enabled to do as here is imperfectly suggested. You will do well to select some pieces, and analyze them, as here suggested. In Longfellow's launch of the ship, in his poem "Building of the Ship," picture the whole scene in imagination, the size and kind of ship, the number of the crowd, &c. The following pieces are marked so that you may get a general idea of what is required for emotional expression in each. No marking can give you particulars of what is necessary, as the modulation of voice or variety in emotional expression—the light and shadow in the coloring of your word-picture—must depend upon your artistic "sense and genius." Imagine your picture, understand the meaning of every word and suggest its meaning in tone, concentrate yourself in the thought and feeling of the piece, and let your voice be governed by that, and you will not go far wrong if you have faithfully practised what has been recommended in the previous pages of this book. 1. Pure quality, gentle force, slow movement, middle pitch, median stress. Those evening bells, those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells Of youth and home, and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime! Those joyous hours are passed away; And many a heart that then was gay Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone: That tuneful peal will still ring on; While other bards shall walk these dells, And sing your praise, sweet evening bells. 2. Orotund quality, with fulness and power, varying middle and low pitch, moderate and quick movement, median and radical stress mixed. With storm-daring pinion and sun-gazing eye The gray forest eagle is king of the sky. From the crag-grasping fir-top where morn hangs its wreath, He views the mad waters white writhing beneath. A fitful red glaring, a rumbling jar, Proclaim the storm-demon still raging afar: The black cloud strides upward, the lightning more red, And the roll of the thunder more deep and more dread; A thick pall of darkness is cast o'er the air; And on bounds the blast with a howl from its lair. The lightning darts zig-zag and forked through the gloom; And the bolt launches o'er with crash, rattle, and boom: The gray forest eagle—where, where has he sped? Does he shrink to his eyrie, or shiver with dread? Does the glare blind his eye? Has the terrible blast On the wing of the sky-king a fear-fetter cast? No, no! the brave eagle, he thinks not of fright: The wrath of the tempest but rouses delight. To the flash of the lightning his eye casts a gleam; To the shriek of the wild blast he echoes his scream; And with front like a warrior that speeds to the fray, And a clapping of pinions, he's up and away. Away—oh! away—soars the fearless and free; What recks he the skies' strife? its monarch is he! The lightning darts round him, undaunted his sight; The blast sweeps against him, unwavered his flight: High upward, still upward, he wheels, till his form Is lost in the black scowling gloom of the storm. 3. Pure to orotund quality, gentle to moderate force, moderate movement, middle pitch, radical and median stress Rhetoric as taught in our seminaries and by elocutionists is one thing: genuine, heart-thrilling, soul-stirring eloquence is a very different thing. The one is like the rose in wax, without odor; the other like the rose on its native bush, perfuming the atmosphere with the rich odors distilled from the dew of heaven. The one is the finely-finished statue of a Cicero or Demosthenes, more perfect in its lineaments than the original, pleasing the eye, and enrapturing the imagination: the other is the living man, animated by intellectual power, rousing the deepest feelings of every heart, and electrifying every soul as with vivid lightning. The one is a picture of the passions all on fire: the other is the real conflagration, pouring out a volume of words that burn like liquid flames bursting from the crater of a volcano. The one attracts the admiring gaze and tickles the fancy of an audience: the other sounds an alarm that vibrates through the tingling ears to the soul, and drives back the rushing blood upon the aching heart. The one falls upon the multitude like April showers glittering in the sunbeams, animating, and bringing nature into mellow life: the other rouses the same mass to deeds of noble daring, and imparts to it the terrific force of an avalanche. The one moves the cerebral foliage in waves of recumbent beauty like a gentle wind passing over a prairie of tall grass and flowers: the other strikes a blow that resounds through the wilderness of mind like rolling thunder through a forest of oaks. The one fails when strong commotions and angry elements agitate the public peace: the other can ride upon the whirlwind, direct the tornado, and rule the storm. 4. Aspirated orotund quality, moderate force, very slow movement, very low pitch, median stress. Tread softly, bow the head, in reverent silence bow: No passing bell doth toll, yet an immortal soul Is passing now. Stranger, however great, with lowly reverence bow: There's one in that poor shed, one by that paltry bed, Greater than thou. Beneath that beggar's roof, lo! Death doth keep his state. Enter, no crowds attend; enter, no guards defend This palace-gate. That pavement damp and cold no smiling courtiers tread: One silent woman stands, lifting with meagre hands A dying head. No mingling voices sound,—an infant wail alone: A sob suppressed, again that short deep gasp, and then The parting groan. Oh change! oh wondrous change! burst are the prison-bars: This moment there, so low, so agonized; and now Beyond the stars! Oh change, stupendous change! there lies the soulless clod: The sun eternal breaks, the new immortal wakes,— Wakes with his God! 5. Pure quality, moderate force, quick movement, high pitch, radical stress, suggestive quality on many words. The Wind one morning sprang up from sleep, Saying, "Now for a frolic, now for a leap, Now for a mad-cap galloping chase: I'll make a commotion in every place!" So it swept with a bustle right through a great town, Creaking the signs, and scattering down Shutters, and whisking with merciless squalls Old women's bonnets and gingerbread-stalls: There never was heard a much lustier shout As the apples and oranges tumbled about; And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes Forever on watch, ran off each with a prize. Then away to the field it went blustering and humming, And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming: It plucked by their tails the grave matronly cows, And tossed the colts' manes all about their brows; Till, offended at such a familiar salute, They all turned their backs, and stood silently mute. So on it went capering, and playing its pranks; Whistling with reeds on the broad river's banks; Or the traveller grave on the king's highway. It was not too nice to hustle the bags Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags: 'Twas so bold, that it feared not to play its joke With the doctor's wig and the gentleman's cloak. Through the forest it roared, and cried gayly, "Now, You sturdy old oaks, I'll make you bow!" And it made them bow without more ado, And cracked their great branches through and through. Then it rushed like a monster on cottage and farm, Striking their dwellers with sudden alarm, And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm. There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps To see if their poultry were free from mishaps. The turkeys they gobbled; the geese screamed aloud; And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd: There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on, Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone. But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane With a school-boy who panted and struggled in vain; For it tossed him and twirled him, then passed, and he stood With his hat in a pool, and his shoe in the mud. STYLE.What you have to say, where you have to say it, when you have to say it, why you have to say it, and to whom you have to say it,—on these depend how you shall say it, or your style. Conversational style is as you would talk in earnest conversation with a friend; Narrative, as you would tell an anecdote or story to a company of friends; Descriptive, as you would describe what you had actually seen; Didactic, as you would state earnestly, decisively, but pleasantly, your knowledge or opinions to others; Public Address, which generally includes the Didactic, Narrative, and Descriptive, is spoken with design to move, to persuade, and instruct, particularly the latter; Declamatory is Public Address magnified in expression, exhibiting more emotion, both in language, and in quality, and fulness of voice; the Emotional or Dramatic, in which the emotions and passions are strongly expressed. In practising these different styles, the quality, pitch, force, and time must be regulated by your thought and feeling, guided, as in transition, by common CONVERSATIONAL. 1. "And how's my boy, Betty?" asked Mrs. Boffin, sitting down beside her. "He's bad; he's bad!" said Betty. "I begin to be afeerd he'll not be yours any more than mine. All others belonging to him have gone to the Power and the Glory; and I have a mind that they're drawing him to them, leading him away." "No, no, no!" said Mrs. Boffin. "I don't know why else he clinches his little hand, as if it had hold of a finger that I can't see; look at it!" said Betty, opening the wrappers in which the flushed child lay, and showing his small right hand lying closed upon his breast. "It's always so. It don't mind me." 2. Helen.—What's that you read? Modus.—Latin, sweet cousin. Hel.—'Tis a naughty tongue, I fear, and teaches men to lie. Modus.—To lie! Hel.—You study it. You call your cousin sweet, And treat her as you would a crab. As sour 'Twould seem you think her: so you covet her! Why, how the monster stares, and looks about! You construe Latin, and can't construe that! Modus.—I never studied women. Hel.—No, nor men; Else would you better know their ways, nor read In presence of a lady. 3. "Now," said Wardle, "what say you to an hour on the ice? We shall have plenty of time." "Capital!" said Mr. Benjamin Allen. "Prime!" ejaculated Mr. Bob Sawyer. "You skate, of course, Winkle?" said Wardle. "Ye—yes; oh, yes!" replied Mr. Winkle. "I—I am rather out of practice." "Oh, do skate, Mr. Winkle!" said Arabella. "I like to see it so much!" "Oh, it is so graceful!" said another young lady. A third young lady said it was elegant; and a fourth expressed her opinion that it was "swan-like." "I should be very happy, I'm sure," said Mr. Winkle, reddening; "but I have no skates." This objection was at once overruled. Trundle had got a couple of pair, and the fat boy announced that there were half a dozen more down stairs; whereat Mr. Winkle expressed exquisite delight, and looked exquisitely uncomfortable.
NARRATIVE. 1. Tauler the preacher walked, one autumn-day, Without the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine, Pondering the solemn miracle of life; As one who, wandering in a starless night, Feels momently the jar of unseen waves, And hears the thunder of an unknown sea Breaking along an unimagined shore. 2. The illustrious Spinola, upon hearing of the death of a friend, inquired of what disease he died. "Of having nothing to do," said the person who mentioned it. "Enough," said Spinola, "to kill a general." Not only the want of employment, but the want of care, often increases as well as brings on this disease. 3. Sir Isaac Newton was once examining a new and very fine globe, when a gentleman came into his study who did not believe in a God, but declared the world we live in came by chance. He was much pleased with the handsome globe, and asked, "Who made it?"—"Nobody," answered Sir Isaac: "it happened there." The gentleman looked up in amazement; but he soon understood what it meant.
DESCRIPTIVE. 1. The morn awakes, like brooding dove, With outstretched wings of gray: Thin, feathery clouds close in above, And build a sober day. No motion in the deeps of air, No trembling in the leaves; A still contentment everywhere, That neither laughs nor grieves. A shadowy veil of silvery sheen Bedims the ocean's hue, Save where the boat has torn between A track of shining blue. Dream on, dream on, O dreamy day! The very clouds are dreams: That cloud is dreaming far away, And is not where it seems. 2. The broad moon lingers on the summit of Mount Olivet; but its beam has long left the garden of Gethsemane, and the tomb of Absalom, the waters of Kedron, and the dark abyss of Jehoshaphat. Full falls its splendor, however, on the opposite city, vivid and defined in its silver blaze. A lofty wall, with turrets and towers and frequent gates, undulates with the unequal ground which it covers, as it encircles the lost capital of Jehovah. It is a city of hills, far more famous than those of Rome; for all Europe has heard of Sion and of Calvary. 3. It was a fine autumnal day: the sky was clear and serene, and Nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow; while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet. Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance high in the air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech and hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals from the neighboring stubble-field.
DIDACTIC. 1. To teach—what is it but to learn Each day some lesson fair or deep, The while our hearts toward others yearn,— The hearts that wake toward those that sleep? To learn—what is it but to teach By aspect, manner, silence, word, The while we far and farther reach Within thy treasures, O our Lord? Then who but is a learner aye? And who but teaches, well or ill? Receiving, giving, day by day,— So grows the tree, so flows the rill. 2. All professions should be liberal; and there should be less pride felt in peculiarity of employment, and more in excellence of achievement. And yet more: in each several profession no master should be too proud to do its hardest work. The painter should grind his own colors; the architect work in the mason's yard with his men; the master-manufacturer be himself a more skilful operative than any man in his mills; and the distinction between one man and another be only in experience and skill, and the authority and wealth which these must naturally and justly obtain. 3. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.
PUBLIC ADDRESS. 1. Let not, then, the young man sit with folded hands, calling on Hercules. Thine own arm is the demigod: it 2. While you are gazing on that sun which is plunging into the vault of the west, another observer admires him emerging from the gilded gates of the east. By what inconceivable power does that agÈd star, which is sinking fatigued and burning in the shades of the evening, re-appear at the same instant fresh and humid with the rosy dew of the morning? At every hour of the day the glorious orb is at once rising, resplendent as noonday, and setting in the west; or rather our senses deceive us, and there is, properly speaking, no east or west, no north or south, in the world. 3. In all natural and spiritual transactions, so far as they come within the sphere of human agency, there are three distinct elements: there is an element of endeavor, of mystery, and of result; in other words, there is something for man to do, there is something beyond his knowledge and control, there is something achieved by the co-operation of these two. Man sows the seed, he reaps the harvest; but between these two points occurs the middle condition of mystery. He casts the seed into the ground; he sleeps and rises night and day; but the seed springs and grows up, he knows not how: yet, when the fruit is ripe, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come. That is all he knows about it. There is something for him to do, something for him to receive; but between the doing and receiving there is a mystery.
DECLAMATORY. 1. You speak like a boy,—like a boy who thinks the old gnarled oak can be twisted as easily as the young sapling. Can I forget that I have been branded as an outlaw, stigmatized as a traitor, a price set on my head as if I had been a wolf, my family treated as the dam and cubs of the hill-fox, whom all may torment, vilify, degrade, and insult; the 2. I have been accused of ambition in presenting this measure,—inordinate ambition. If I had thought of myself only, I should have never brought it forward. I know well the perils to which I expose myself,—the risk of alienating faithful and valued friends, with but little prospect of making new ones (if any new ones could compensate for the loss of those we have long tried and loved), and the honest misconception both of friends and foes. Ambition!—yes, I have ambition; but it is the ambition of being the humble instrument in the hands of Providence to reconcile a divided people, once more to revive concord and harmony in a distracted land; the pleasing ambition of contemplating the glorious spectacle of a free, united, prosperous, and fraternal people. 3. Tell me, ye who tread the sods of yon sacred height, is Warren dead? Can you not still see him, not pale and prostrate, the blood of his gallant heart pouring out of his ghastly wound, but moving resplendent over the field of honor, with the rose of heaven upon his cheek, and the fire of liberty in his eye? Tell me, ye who make your pious pilgrimage to the shades of Vernon, is Washington indeed shut up in that cold and narrow house? That which made these men, and men like these, cannot die. The hand that traced the charter of Independence is indeed motionless; the eloquent lips that sustained it are hushed: but the lofty spirits that conceived, resolved, and maintained it, and which alone, to such men, "make it life to live,"—these cannot expire.
DRAMATIC OR EMOTIONAL. 1. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye! I feel my heart new opened. Oh, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspÉct of princes and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And, when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. 2. What would you have, you curs! That like nor peace nor war? The one affrights you; The other makes you proud. He that trusts you, Where he should find you lions finds you hares; Where foxes, geese. You are no surer, no, Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, Or hailstone in the sun. 3. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.
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