_Ji ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION J. Nichols and Son, Parliament Street, ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION: IN WHICH THE PRINCIPLES OF READING AND SPEAKING ARE INVESTIGATED; AND SUCH PAUSES, EMPHASIS, AND INFLEXIONS OF VOICE, AS ARE SUITABLE TO EVERY VARIETY OF SENTENCE, ARE DISTINCTLY POINTED OUT AND EXPLAINED ; WITH DIRECTIONS FOR STRENGTHENING AND MODULATING THE VOICE, SO AS TO RENDER IT VARIED, FORCIBLE, AND HARMONIOUS : TO WHICH IS ADDED, A COMPLETE SYSTEM OF THE PASSIONS; SHOWING HOW THEY EFFECT THE COUNTENANCE, TONE OF VOICE, AND GESTURE OF THE BODY, EXEMPLIFIED by a copious Selection of the most striking Passages of SHAKSPEARE. THE WHOLE ILLUSTRATED BY COPPER-PLATES, EXPLAINING THE NATURE OF ACCENT, EMPHASIS, INFLEXION, AND CADENCE. THE SEVENTH EDITION. BY JOHN WALKER, AUTHOR OF THE CRITICAL PRONOUNCING DICTIONARY, &C. Est quodam prcdire tenus. — Hor. LONDON PRINTED FOR T. CADELL; LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN; BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY; BAYNES AND SON; SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL; G. B. WHITTAKER ; AND J. BAKER. 1825. To DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON, IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF THE ASSISTANCE GAINED FROM HIS LABOURS, THE PLEASURE AND IMPROVEMENT DERIVED FROM HIS CONVERSATION, AND THE OBLIGATION CONFERRED BY HIS FRIENDSHIP AND ATTENTION, THE FOLLOWING TREATISE IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR. PREFACE. jH AVING had the honour, a few years ago, to give public lectures on English Pronunciation at the Uni- sity of Oxford, I was some time afterwards invited by several of the Heads of Houses to give private lectures on the Art of Reading, in their respective Colleges. So flattering an invitation made me ex- tremely anxious to preserve the favourable impression I had made, and this put me upon throwing the instruction I had to convey into something that had the appearance of a system. Those only who are thoroughly acquainted with the subject, can con- ceive the labour and perplexity in which this task engaged me : it was not a florid harangue on the advantages of good reading that was expected from me, but some plain practical rules in a scholastic and methodical form, that would convey real and useful instruction. Vlll PREFACE. This led me to a distinction of the voice, which, though often mentioned by musicians, has been but little noticed by teachers of reading* ; which is that distinction of the voice into the upward and down- ward slide, into which all speaking sounds may be * In the first edition of this work, I expressed myself with a scru- pulous caution, respecting this distinction of voice $ because, in a grammar, written a century ago by Charles Butler, of Magdalen Col- lege, Oxford, I found & direction for reading the question beginning with the verb, not only in a higher tone, but with a different turn of the voice from the other question ; and in a grammar by Mr. Perry, of Scotland, about thirty years ago, I found the same dis- tinction of voice in the same case : and, except in these two authors, I never met with this distinction in reading till the last edition of Enfield's Speaker ; where, in Rule VII. of the Essay on Elocution, instead of the old direction, Acquire a just variety of Pause and Ca- dence, I found, Acquire a just variety of Pause and Inflexion; and though in the whole Rule there was not a single word about in- flexion of the voice, in the new one I found the inflexions of the voice divided into two kinds ; the one conveying the idea of conti- nuation, the other of completion : the former of which is called the suspending, the latter the closing pause :— though, in a few lines after, we find what is called the closing pause, is often applicable to members, when the sense, is suspended. In these new directions, too, I found the question distinguished into two kinds, and the sus- pending and the closing pause applied respectively to each. I could not help congratulating myself, that a doctrine I had published so many years before, began to be adopted by so judicious a writer as Mr. Enfield. But when I found it had not only been adopted, but acknowledged, by Mr. Murray, the author of the best Grammar and Selection of Lessons for reading in the English Language, I found myself fully compensated for the misfortune of not being noticed by the author of the Speaker. PREFACE. IX resolved : the moment I admitted this distinction, I found I had possession of the quality of the voice I wanted ; for thoLgh these slides or inflexions were indefinite as to their quantity or duration, they were still essentially distinct, and were never convertible into each other ; whereas all the other distinctions were relative ; and what was high and loud in one case, might be soft and low in another. Accordingly I found, upon pursuing this distinction, that, provided the proper slide was preserved on that word which the sense and harmony required, the other distinc- tions of the voice were more easily attained : and if they were not, the pronunciation was infinitely less injured, than if every other distinction of the voice had been preserved, and this single one neglected. Here then commenced my system ; infinite were the difficulties and obscurities that impeded my progress at first; but perseverance, and, perhaps, enthusiasm, at last brought it to a period. Without any breach of modesty, it may be asserted, that the general idea is new, curious, and important : and without any false humility, I am ready to allow, that the manner of treating it has too many faults and imperfections. Besides those incorrectnesses which are inseparable from the novelty and diffi- culty of the subject, it partakes of that haste, that X PREFACE. interruption, and want of finishing, which must ne- cessarily arise from a constant and laborious attend- ance on pupils ; for, though nothing but long prac- tice in actual teaching could have enabled me to construct such a system, it required the leisure and liberty of independence to produce it to the best advantage. ADVERTISEMENT. SECOND EDITION. WHEN the first edition of this work was published, I con- sidered the human voice as divisible into two inflexions only. Some time after, upon re-considering the subject more maturely, I found there were certain turns of voice which I could not distinctly class with either of these two inflex- ions. This discovery mortified me exceedingly. I feared my whole labour was lost, and that I had been fatiguing myself with a distinction which existed no where but in my imagination. None but those who had been system-makers, can judge of the regret and disappointment which this ap- prehension occasioned. It did not, however, continue long. The same trial of the voice which assured me of the two opposite inflexions, the rising and falling, soon convinced me that those inflexions which I could not reduce to either of these two, were neither more nor less than two combina- tions of them i and that they were real circumflexes^ the one beginning with the rising inflexion, and ending with the falling upon the same syllable ; and the other beginning with the falling, and ending with the rising on the same syllable. This relieved me from my anxiety ; and I considered the discovery of so much importance, that I immediately published a small pamphlet, called The Melody of Speaking Delineated, in which I explained it as well as I was able by writing, but referred the Xll reader to, some passages where he could scarcely fail to adopt it upon certain words, and perceive the justness of the distinction. I was confirmed in my opinion by reflect- ing that a priori, and independently on actual practice, these modifications of the human voice must necessarily exist. First, if there was no turn or inflexion of the voice, it must continue in a monotone. Secondly, if the voice was in- flected, it must be either upwards or downwards, and so produce either the rising or falling inflexion, Thirdly, if these two were united on the same syllable, it could only be by beginning with the rising, and ending with the falling inflexion, or vice versa; as any other mixture of these op- posite inflexions was impossible. A thorough conviction of the truth of this distinction, gave me a confidence which nothing could shake. I exemplified it, viva voce, to many of my critical friends, who uniformly agreed with me : and this enabled me to conceive and demonstrate the Greek and Latin circumflex (so often mentioned, and so totally unin- telligible to the moderns), but occasioned not a little sur- prise (since it is as easy to conceive that the voice may fall and rise upon the same syllable, as that it may rise and fall) why the ancients had the latter circumflex, and not the former. Some probable conjectures respecting this point, as well as the nature of the accent, antient and mo- dern, may be seen at the end of a work lately published, called, A Key to the Classical Pronunciation of Greek and Latin proper Names. xm CONTENTS. FIRST PART. Page. Introduction, Elocution defined I General Idea of the common Doctrine of Punctuation 4 Introduction to the Theory of Rhetorical' Punctuation 9 Inconsistencies of the common Doctrine of Punctuation 10, 11, 12 Theory of Rhetorical Punctuation 16 Practical System of Rhetorical Punctuation 23 Introduction to the Theory of the Inflexions of the Voice 53 Method of explaining the Inflexions of the Voice 55 Another Method of explaining the Inflexions of the Voice. ... 62 Utility of the Inflexions of the Voice 72 Practical System of the Inflexions of the Voice 75 Pronunciation of a Compact Sentence < 76 Inverted Period SI Pronunciation of a Loose Sentence 82 the Antithetic Member 89 the Penultimate Member : 90 the Series 95 the Simple Series 98 the Compound Series 103 the Series of Serieses. . 1 10 the Final Pause, or Period 117 the Interrogation 121 the Exclamation 142 the Parenthesis 147 XIV SECOND PART. Page. Accent 16*0 Accent defined and explained 164 English, Scotch, and Irish Accent, how they differ 165 Introduction to the Theory of Emphasis 166 Theory of Emphatic Inflexion 179 Practical System of Emphasis 190 Single Emphasis 191 Double Emphasis 200 Treble Emphasis 202 General Emphasis. . . . , 208 Intermediate or Elliptical Member. . , 212 Harmonic Inflexion • • .... 219 Harmony of Prose 226 Harmony of Prosaic Inflexion 231 Rules for reading Verse 238 Modulation and Management of the Voice 255 Gesture 277 The Passions , 283 Tranquillity, Cheerfulness 293 Mirth 294 Raillery 295 Sneer, Joy .' 296 Delight 298 Love 299 Pity : 301 Hope 303 Hatred, Aversion 304 Anger, Rage, Fury 306 Revenge, Reproach 308 Fear and Terror 310 Sorrow . . . ; 312 Remorse 316 XV Page. Despair 317 Surprise, Wonder, Amazement, Admiration 319 Pride 321 Confidence, Courage, Boasting 322 Perplexity, Irresolution, Anxiety 324 Vexation, Peevishness 326 Envy and Malice. 327 Suspicion, Jealousy 328 Modesty, Submission 331 Shame and Gravity 332 Inquiry and Attention 333 Teaching or Instructing 334 Arguing , 335 Admonition 336 Authority and Commanding 33S Forbidding and Affirming 339 Denying and Differing 340 Agreeing and Judging 341 Reproving 342 Acquitting and Condemning 343 Pardoning and Dismissing 344 Refusing 345 Giving, Granting 346 Gratitude and Curiosity 347 Promising and Veneration 348 Respect, Desire, and Commendation 349 Exhorting 350 Complaining and Fatigue 351 Sickness 352 PREMONITION THE READER IT may not, perhaps, be improper to inform the reader, that if he wishes fully to understand the fol- lowing work, he must first apply himself closely to the acquiring of a just idea of the two radical distinc- tions of the voice into the rising and falling inflexion, as explained, Part I. p. 66 and 68 ; and Part II. p. 162. If, however, after all his labour, the author should not have been able to convey an idea of these two distinctions of voice upon paper, he flatters him- self, that those parts of the work, which do not depend upon these distinctions, are sufficiently new and useful to reward the time and pains of a perusal. INTRODUCTION. ^LOCUTION, in the modern sense of the word, seems to signify that pronunciation which is given to words when they are arranged into sentences, and form discourse. Pronunciation, in its largest sense, may signify the utterance of words, either taken separately, or in connexion with each other; but the pronunciation of words, connected into a sentence, seems very pro- s perly specified by Elocution. Elocution, therefore, according to this definition of it, may have elements or principles distinct from those of pronunciation in its most limited sense ; and we may consider the elements of elocution, not as those principles which constitute the utterance of single words, but as those which form the just enun- ciation of words in dependence on each other for sense s at this point the present work commences. The delivery of words formed into sentences, and these sentences formed into discourse, is the object of it ; and as reading is a correct and beautiful pic- ture of speaking ; speaking, it is presumed, cannot be more successfully taught, than by referring us to such rules as instruct us in the art of reading. The art of reading is that system of rules which teaches us to pronounce written composition with justness, energy, variety, and ease. Ag reea hly to this definition, reading may be considered as that species of delivery, which not only expresses the B 2 ELEMENTS OF sense of an author, so as barely to be understood ; but which, at the same time, gives it all that force, beauty, and variety, of which it is susceptible : the first of these considerations belongs to grammar, and the last to rhetoric. The sense of an author being the first object of reading, it will be necessary to inquire into those di- visions and subdivisions of a sentence which are em- ployed to fix and ascertain its meaning : this leads to a consideration of the doctrine of punctuation. Punctuation may be considered in two different lights : first, as it clears and preserves the sense of a sentence, by combining those words together which are united in sense, and separating those that are dis- tinct ; and secondly, as it directs to such pauses, elevations, and depressions of the voice, as not only mark the sense of the sentence more precisely, but give it a variety and beauty which recommend it to the ear ; for in speaking, as in other arts, the useful and the agreeable are almost always found to coin- cide ; and every real embellishment promotes and perfects the principal design. In order, therefore, to have as clear an idea of punctuation as possible, it will be necessary to con- sider it as related to grammar and rhetoric distinctly. It will not be easy to say any thing new on punctu- ation, as it relates to grammar ; but it will not be difficult to show, what perplexity it is involved in when reduced to enunciation ; and how necessary it is to understand distinctly the rhetorical as well as grammatical division of a sentence, if we would wish to arrive at precision and accuracy in reading and speaking : this will so evidently appear in the course of this essay, as to make it needless to insist farther on it here ; and^as the basis of rhetoric and oratory is grammar, it will be absolutely necessary to consider punctuation as it delates precisely to the sense, before it is viewed as it relates to the force, beauty, and harmony of language. ELOCUTION. 3 But the business of this essay is not so much to construct a new system of punctuation as to endea- vour to make the best use of that which is already established ;. an attempt to reduce the whole doctrine of rhetorical punctuation to a few plain, simple prin- ples, which may enable the reader, in some mea- sure, to point for himself: for this purpose, it will, in the first place, be necessary to exhibit a general idea of the punctuation in use, that we may be better en- abled to see how far it will assist us in the practice of pronunciation, and where we must have recourse to principles more permanent and systematical. * 2 4 ELEMENTS OF A general Idea of the common Doctrine of Punctuation. Some grammarians define punctuation to be the art of making in writing the several pauses, or rests, between sentences and the parts of sentences, accord- ing to their proper quantity or proportion, as they are expressed in a just and accurate pronunciation. Others, as Sir James Burrow and Dr. Bowles, besides considering the points as marks of rest and pauses, suppose them to be hints for a different modulation of voice, «or rules for regulating the accent of the voice in reading ; but whether this modulation of the voice relates to all the points, or to the interrogation, ex- clamation, and parenthesis only, we are not informed. Grammarians are pretty generally agreed in distin- guishing the pauses into The period "J The colon I marked thug 1 he semicolon f The comma j and those pauses, which are accompanied with an alteration in the tone of the voice, into The interrogation "} C ? The exclamation > marked thus < ! The parenthesis J L () The period is supposed to be a pause double the time of the colon ; the colon, double the semicolon ; and the semicolon, double that of the comma, or smallest pause : the interrogation and exclamation points are said to be indefinite as to their quantity of time, and to mark an elevation of voice ; and the parenthesis, to mark a moderate depression of the voice, with a pause greater than a comma. A simple sentence, that is, a sentence having but one subject, or nominative, and one finite verb, ad- mits of no pause. Thus in the following sentence : ELOCUTION. 5 The passion for praise produces excellent effects in women of sense. The passion for praise is the subject, or nominative case to the verb produces; and excellent effects in women of sense, is the object or accusative case, with its concomitant circumstances or adjuncts of specification, as Dr. Lowth very properly terms them, " and this sentence," says the learned bishop, " admits of no paiise between any of its parts ; but when a new verb is added to the sentence, as in the following: The passion for praise, which is so very vehement in the fair sex, produces excellent effects in women of sense. Here a new verb is introduced, accompanied with adjuncts of its own, and the sub- ject is repeated by the relative pronoun which : it now becomes a compounded sentence, made up of two simple sentences, one of which is inserted in the middle of the other ; it must, therefore, be distin- guished into its component parts by a point placed on each side of the additional sentence. In every sentence, therefore, as many subjects, or as many finite verbs, as there are, either expressed or implied, so many distinctions there may be : as, My hopes, fears, joys, pains, all centre in you. The case is the same when several adjuncts affect the subject of the verb : as, A good, wise, learned man is an orna- ment to the commonwealth ; or, when several adverbs, or adverbial circumstances, affect the verb : as, He behaved himself modestly, prudently, virtuously. For as many such adjuncts as there are, so many several members does the sentence contain ; and these are to be distinguished from each other, as much as several subjects or finite verbs. The reason of this is, that as many subjects, finite verbs, or adjuncts as there are in a sentence, so many distinct sentences are actually implied ; as the first example is equivalent to, My hopes all centre in you, my fears all centre in you, &c. The second example is equivalent to, A good man is an ornament to the commonwealth , a wise man is an ornament to the commonwealth, Sec. The third 6 ELEMENTS OF example is equivalent to, He hehaved himself modestly, he behaved himself prudently, &c. ; and these implied sentences are all to be distinguished by a comma. The exception to this rule is, where thesesubjects or adjuncts are united by a conjunction : as The imagi- nation and the judgment do not always agree ; and A man never becomes learned without studying con- stantly and methodically. In these cases the commas between the subjects and adjuncts are omitted. There are some other kinds of sentences, which, though seemingly simple, are nevertheless of the com- pound kind, and really contain several subjects, verbs, or adjuncts. Thus in the sentences containing what is called the ablative absolute : as Physicians, the disease once discovered, think the cure ha If wrought ; where the words disease once discovered, are equiva- lent to, when the cause of disease is discovered. — So in those sentences where nouns are added by apposi- tion : as, The Scots, a hardy people, endured it all. So also in those where the vocative cases occur : as, This my friend you must allow me. The first of these examples is equivalent to, The Scots endured it all, and The Scots, who are a hardy people, endured it all : and the last to, This you must allow me, and this my friend must allow me. When a sentence can be divided into two or more members, which members are again divisible into members more simple, the former are to be separated by a semicolon. EXAMPLE. But as this passion for admiration, when it works according to reason, improves the beautiful part of our species in every thing that is laudable j so nothing is more destructive to them, when it is governed by vanity and folly. When a sentence can be divided into two parts, each of which parts are again divisible by semicolons, the former are to be separated by a colon. ELOCUTION. 7 EXAMPLES. As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial-plate, so the advances we make in knowledge are only perceived by the dis- tance gone over. Here the two members, being both simple, are only separated by a comma. As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not perceive it moving -, so our advances in learning, as they consist of such minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance. Here the sentence being divided into two equal parts, and those compounded, since they include others, we separate the former by a semicolon, and the latter by commas. As we perceived the shadow to have moved along the dial, but did not perceive it moving j and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ever saw it grow 1 so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of such minute steps, are only perceiv- able by the distance. Here the advancement in knowledge is compared to the motion of a shadow, and the growth of grass : which comparison divides the sentences into two prin- cipal parts : but since what is said of the movement of the shadow, and of the growth of grass, likewise contains two simple members, they are to be separated by a semicolon : consequently, a higher pointing is required, to separate them from the other part of the sentence, which they are opposed to : and this is a colon. When a member of a sentence forms complete sense, and does not excite expectation of what fol- lows ; though it consist but of a simple member, it' may be marked with a colon. EXAMPLES. The discourse consisted of two parts : in the first was shewn the necessity of fighting j in the second, the advantages that would arise from it. The Augustan age was so eminent for good poets, that they have served as models to all others: yet it did not produce any good tragic poets. & ELEMENTS OF When a sentence is so far perfectly finished, as not to be connected in construction with the following sentence, it is marked with a period. This is the most concise and comprehensive view I could possibly collect from the several authors who have written on this subject. But it may be observed, that these rules, though sufficient to prevent confusion in writing, are very inadequate to the purposes of just and accurate pronouncing ; as it is certain that a just, a forcible, and easy pronunciation, will oblige a judi- cious reader to pause much more frequently, than the most correct and accurate writers or printers give him leave : but I must again observe, that when I contend for the propriety, and even necessity, of pausing, where we find no points in writing or printing, I do not mean to disturb the present practice of punctua- tion : I wish only to afford such aids to pronuncia- tion as are actually made use of by the best readers and speakers, and such as we must use in reading and speaking in public, if we would wish to pronounce with justness, energy, and ease. ELOCUTION. 9 An Introduction to the Theory of Rhetorical Punctuation. Dr. Lowth has, with great plainness and precision, drawn the line which bounds the use of the comma upon paper, by telling us, that every simple sentence, or that sentence which has but one subject and one finite verb, cannot have any of its adjuncts, or imper- fect phrases, separated by a point. This he illustrates by a sentence, where the subject and the verb are accompanied by as many adjuncts as they commonly are, but no provision is made for such phrases as ex- tend to twice the length, and yet continue perfectly simple. — The passion for praise produces excellent effects in women of sense, — is a sentence of so mode- rate a size, as may be pronounced even with solemnity and energy, by most people, without once taking breath ; but if we amplify these adjuncts that accom- pany the nominative case and the verb in such a manner as is frequently to be met with, at least in incorrect composition, we shall find it impossible to pronounce the sentence with force and ease, without some interval for respiration ; — for instance, if we had the following sentence to read — A violent passion for universal admiration produces the most ridiculous circumstances in the general behaviour of women of the most excellent understandings. — If, I say, we had this sentence to read, how could we possibly pro- nounce it with force and ease, without once fetching breath ? — and yet, according to the strictest laws of grammar, no pause is to be admitted ; for this latter sentence, though almost three times as long, is as perfectly simple as the former. The necessity of taking breath, in some of these longer simple sentences, has obliged the most accurate and metaphysical inquirers into punctuation to admit of the most vague and indeterminate rules. — The 10 ELEMENTS OF most subtle among the French writers* on this sub- ject, after giving a thousand fine-spun reasons for placing the points with justness and precision, admits of placing a comma in a simple sentence — " Quand " les prepositions sont trop longues pour itre dnoncees " de suite avec aisance." And one of our best Eng- lish critics tells us, that the difference between the colon and semicolon has a dependance on some- thing that influences all the points, and sways the whole doctrine of punctuation, which is, the length and shortness of the members and periods ; for when the phrases are long, he says, we point higher than when they are short. This confession is a sure proof, that the rules of these grammarians did not reach all cases ; and that, in speaking, they often found themselves obliged to pause where they did not dare to insert a pause in writing, for fear of breaking the grammatical con- nexion of the words : a fear, as will be seen hereafter, which arose from a superficial knowledge of the prin- ciples of rhetorical pronunciation. But as a proof that the shortest sentences are not always to be pronounced so as to preserve a perfect equality of time between every word, and conse- quently that some words admit of longer intervals than others; we need only pronounce a short simple sentence in the different ways we did the long one. Thus if w r e say — The passion for praise, produces excellent effects, in women of sense. — Here, I say, if we make a short pause at praise, and effects, we do not perceive the least impropriety ; but if we repeat the same sentence, and make the same pauses at pro- duces, and in, we shall soon discover an essential difference. — For example : The passion for praise produces, excellent effects in, women of' sense. — Here, by using the same pause between different words, the sense is materially affected ; which evidently shows how necessary it is to good reading and speaking, to * Beauzee Grammaire Generate, ELOCUTION. 1 1 pause only between such words as admit of being separated ; and that it is not so much the number as the position of the pauses that affects the sense of a sentence. And here a question naturally arises, since it is of so much consequence to the sense of a sentence where we admit a pause, what are the parts of speech which allow a pause between them, and what are those which do not ? To which it may be answered, that the comma, or, what is equivalent to it in reading, a short pause, may be so frequently admitted between words in a grammatical connexion, that it will be much easier to say where it cannot intervene, than where it can. — The only words which seem too inti- mately connected to admit a pause, are — the article and the substantive, the substantive and the adjective in their natural order, and the preposition and the noun it governs ; every other combination of words, when forming simple sentences of considerable length, seems divisible if occasion require. That a substan- tive in the nominative case may be separated from the verb it governs, will be readily admitted, if we con- sider with how many adjuncts, or modifying words, it may be connected ; and, consequently, how difficult it will be tp carry the voice on to the verb with force, and to continue this force till the objective case with all its adjuncts and concomitants are pronounced : this will appear evidently from the amplified sentence already produced ; which, though not a very com- mon, is a very possible example ; and rules founded on the reason of a thing, must either suit all cases or none. Whatever, therefore, may be the integrity of gram- matical connexion to the eye, certain it is that the ear perceives neither obstruction nor obscurity in a pause between the nominative case and the verb, when the nominative is composed of such words as are less separable. Nay, we find the substantive verb, by the most scrupulous grammarians, constantly 12 ELEMENTS OF separated from its preceding noun by a comma, when- ever the noun is joined to any considerable number of less separable words. EXAMPLES. One great use of prepositions in English, is to express those rela- tions, which, in some languages, are chiefly marked by cases. Dr. Lowth"s Grammar. A colon, or member, is a chief constructive part, or greater divi- sion of a sentence. Ibid. The very notion of any duration's being past, implies that it was once present ; for the idea of being once present, is actually included in the idea of its being past. Spectator, No. 590. This punctuation of the substantive verb runs through our whole typography, and sufficiently shows the division which the ear invariably makes, when delivery requires a distinct and forcible pronuncia- tion ; for not the smallest reason can be given, that this verb should be separated from its noun, that will not be equally applicable to every other verb in the language. s The general reluctance, however, at admitting a pause to the eye, between the nominative case and the verb, is not without a foundation in reason. The pauses of distinction between the parts of a complex nominative case, seem specifically different from the pause between the nominative case and the verb ; that the same pause, therefore, to the eye should be used between both, seems repugnant to a feeling of the different kind of connexion that subsists between parts which are but occasionally united, and those which are necessarily united ; thus in the following sentence : Riches, pleasure and health, become evils to the generality of mankind. There are few readers who would not make a longer pause between the nominative health and the verb become, than between inches and pleasure, or pleasure and health ; and yet there are few writers, or printers, who would not insert a pause after the first two words, and omit it after the third. This general ELOCUTION. 13 practice can arise from nothing but the perception of the difference there is between those parts that compose the nominative plural, and those parts which compose the nominative and the verb ; and rather than confound this difference, we choose to omit the pause in writing, though we use it in speaking : till, therefore, we have a point, which, like one of the He- brew points, at the same time that it marks a distinc- tion between parts, marks a necessary connexion be- tween them also, we must be contented to let this useful and distinguishing pause in reading and speak- ing go unmarked in writing and printing. If we inquire into the difference between the parts of the nominative, and the nominative itself as part of the sentence, we shall find that the former are only parts of a part, and that the latter is a part of a whole ; or, in other words, the former are parts of a superior part, and the latter is the superior part itself; which part, as it consists of several parts, must, in order to show that these parts form only one part, be termi- nated by a pause, longer than what is given to the parts of which it is composed ; but as such a pause can be only marked by a semicolon, and as a semi- colon is often a mark of disjunction, it would be highly improper to place it between words so intimately con- nected as the nominative and the verb ; for as these words, except sometimes on account of emphasis, admit of no separation by a pause, when the nomi- native does not consist of parts, so, unless we had a pause, which would show this union of each part with the other, without a disunion of the whole num- ber of parts from what follows, we had better, perhaps, let this chasm in punctuation stand unfilled. Where the parts are evidently distinct, as in sentences con- structed on conjunctions, however short the parts may be, there seems no impropriety in placing a long pause : thus in the proverbial sentence, As the day lengthens the cold strengthens : we may place a comma, and even a semicolon, at lengthens, without 14 ELEMENTS OF appearing to injure the sense \ bat if we were to place the same points between the nominative and the verb in the following sentence, The lengthening day is followed by the strengthening cold ; we should feel an impropriety at placing even a comma at day, though we should not perceive the least at actually pausing as long between the parts of this, as between those of the former sentence. The only method, therefore, of marking this necessary pause to the ear, without hurting the connexion between these parts of a sentence to the eye, would be to adopt the hyphen ; this always shows a necessary connexion of sense, and at the same time a clear distinction of parts dif- ferent from the distinction and connexion exhibited by the comma ; and this seems the point wanting to render our punctuation much more definite and complete. A want of this distinctive, and at the same time connective mark, has made many writers, particu- larly those who have expressed themselves with more than common delicacy and precision, adopt a dash between parts intimately connected, to show the sense is to be continued, and the pause lengthened at the same time. Sterne is the most remarkable for the use of this dash : and it must be owmed that in him it often conveys infinite meaning : but where used too often, as in those swarms of modern writers of novels, who affect to write like Sterne ; or where used improperly, and when the common points would give more precision to the sense, as we sometimes find even in Sterne himself ; in this case, I say, it may be reckoned among one of the greatest abuses of modern orthography. Sterne's dashing may be called a species of rhetori- cal punctuation, but the dash may and ought to be used grammatically, when there is such an order of the words as to induce the reader to run the sense of one member into another, from which it ought to be separated. ELOCUTION. 15 EXAMPLE. After the Prince of Orange had got possession of the government of England— Scotland and Ireland remained still to be settled. Macphersoris History of England. The punctuation of the eye, and that of the ear, being thus at variance, and the latter being the prin- cipal object of this essay, it may not be useless to attempt to give a general idea of the principles of that punctuation which really exists in correct and elegant speaking, but which has hitherto been left entirely to the taste and judgment of the reader. 16 ELEMENTS OF Theory of Rhetorical Punctuation, It may be observed, that pausing is regulated by two circumstances; one is, conveying ideas distinctly, by separating such as are distinct, and uniting such as are associated ; the other is, forming the words that convey these ideas into such classes, or portions, as may be forcibly and easily pronounced ; for this reason, when the words, from their signification, re- quire to be distinctly pointed out, that is, to convey objects distinguished from each other, however fre- quent and numerous the pauses may be, they are necessary ; but if words connected in sense continue to a greater extent than can be easily pronounced together, and at the same time have no such distinct parts as immediately suggest where we ought to pause, the only rule that can be given is, not to separate such words as are more united than those that we do not separate. But it may be demanded, how shall we know the several degrees of union between words so as to enable us to divide them properly ? To this it may be answered, that all words may be distinguished into those that modify, and those that are modified :* the words that are modified are the nominative, and the verb it governs ; every other word may be said to be a modifier of these words : the noun and verb being thus distinguished from every other, may be one reason, that, when modified, they so readily admit a pause between them ; because words that are separately modified may be presumed to be more separable from each other than the words that modify and the words modified. The modifying words are themselves modified by other words, and thus be- come divisible into superior and subordinate classes, * Buffier Grammaire, p. 60. ELOCUTION. 17 each class beingcomposedof wordsmore united among themselves than the several classes are with each other. Thus in the sentence, The passion for praise produces excellent effects in women of sense — the noun passion, and the verb produces, with their several adjuncts* form the two principal portions, or classes, of words in this sentence ; and between these classes a pause is more readily admitted than between any other words: if the latter class may be thought too long to be pro- nounced without a pause, we may more easily place one at effects than between any other words ; because though produces is modified by every one of the suc- ceeding words, taken all together, yet it is more im- mediately modified by excellent effects, as this portion is also modified by in women of sense; all the words of which phrase are more immediately modified by the succeeding words than the preceding phrase, produces excellent effects, is by them. But what, it may be said, is the principle of unity, among these classes ; and by what marks are we to judge that words belong rather to one class than to another ? To this it may be answered, that the mo- difying and the modified words form the first or larger classes ; and the words that modify these modifying words, and the modifying words themselves, which are necessarily more united with each other than with those they modify, form the smaller classes of words. Upon these principles we may divide the sentence last quoted; and upon the same principles we may ac- count for the division of the following.— A violent and ungovernable passion for praise the most universal and unlimited, produces often the most ridiculous consequences in women of the most exalted under- standings,— When I say, a violent and ungovernable passion, I may pause at violent to distinguish it from ungovernable^ but not at ungovernable, because it im- mediately modifies passfori; but when I say, for praise, the most universal and unlimited, I must pause at passion, to show the greater connexion between the c 18 ELEMENTS OF words praise and universal and unlimited than be- tween these and passion; the latter class thus secured, by a pause, from mixing with the former, it is subject to such division as its structure requires: the substan- tive praise, coming before the modifying words, is separated from them by a pause, not because such a pause is necessary the better to understand the con- nexion between them ; for had the modifying word been single, it would nut have admitted a pause : but because the two modifying words, universal and unli* mi ted, form a class by themselves, sufficiently united to the word praise to detach it from passion , and suf- ficiently distinct from it to be separated by a comma, But it may be asked, why does not the same classifi- cation take place in the former part of this sentence, with respect to the two adjectives, violent and ungo- vernable, and the substantive passion ? It may be an- swered, that a pause of distinction is admitted at violent ; but if we were to pause at ungovernable, the two modifying words would seem to form a class, before the word modified by them is expressed or understood ; whereas, in the succeeding part of the sentence, the word praise is understood, and the mo- difying words, universal and unlimited^ are necessa- rily referred to it. If it be demanded, why, in the former sentence, A violent and ungovernable passion for praise produces, &c. we cannot pause both at passsion and praise ? it may be answered, that as the words for praise modify passion, they have the nature of an adjective, and therefore should coalesce with the word passion^ which they modify; unless another word, more united to them than they are to passion, could be added, to make them form a distinct class; for, in this case they would be as easily separable as two adjec- tives after a substantive. Thus in the phrase, Avio- lent and ungovernable passion for praise and adula- tion, &c. : here we find praise and adulation form a class of words sufficiently united to be pronounced ELOCUTION. 19 separately from passioMi if either the necessity of taking breath, or a distinctness of pronunciation, re- quire it ; for as pausing ought to answer one of these purposes, where neither of them are answered, the pause must be improper. Thus in the following sen- tence : A violent and ungovernable passion fur praise produces, &c. if we pause at passion, and then at praise, we shall pause without any necessity ; for as we must pause at praise, and the words for praise being neither associated with, nor distinguished from, any succeeding words, they ought to be united with those that precede, as both of them form a member sufficiently short to be pronounced with ease ; but if distinctness had made it necessary to pause at praise, then, notwithstanding the shortness of the phrase, it would have formed a distinct member, and have rea- dily admitted a pause. Thus in the sentence, A violent and ungovernable passion, for praise, rather than improvement in virtue, produces often the most ri- diculous circumstances, &c. : here the word praise, being emphatically distinguished from improvement in virtue, demands a pause after it ; and as this word, and its opposite, form a class, more united together than both are with the word passion, a pause is ne- cessary to show they belong to distinct classes ; the pause between the opposing words showing their dis- tinction, and the pause before and after them showing their union. But it may be asked, how can we suppose words opposed to each other, and requiring a pause to show that opposition, can be more united with each other than they are with the preceding words they modify? It may be answered, that the modifying word, when unaccompanied by adjuncts, and the word modified, form but one class, and do not admit of a pause, either when the modifying word precedes or succeeds the word modified.— Thus in the phrases, It was from a prepense malice that he committed the ac- tion ; and, It was from a malice prepense _thaf. he c2 20 ELEMENTS OF committed the action: In these phrases I say, the substantive malice, and the adjective prepense, are equally inseparable by a pause ; but in the following phrases : It was from a preconceived and prepense malice that he committed the action; and It teas from a malice, preconceived, and prepense, that he committed the ac- tion. In the former of these phrases the modifying words do not form a distinct class from the word mo- dified ; anil in the latter they do, and, therefore, admit of a pause after the word malice, which can arise from nothing else but this: in one case, the modifying words, preceding the word modified, can signify nothing without being joined to it ; and in the other, the modified word, preceding those that modify, does signify something independent on them ; and this in- dependent signification admits those words that equally depend on it, to form a distinct, though not an inde- pendent class, by permitting a pause. Hence arises this general rule — The word modified, and the words mo- difying^ form hut one class with relation to the rest of the words of the sentence ; but if the modifying words precede the wofd modified, the modifying words are distinguished from each other by a pause, but not from the word modified ; and if the modifying words succeed the ivord. modified, they are not only distin- guished from each other, but from the word which they modify; that is, they form distinct classes respecting each other, and one whole class respecting the rest of the words in the sentence. Thus have we endeavoured to trace out the reason for pausing differently ..in phrases differently con- structed, though perfectly similar in meaning. In this inquiry, the ingenious researches of Lord Kaims upon this subject have been of great use. His idea of the connexion between the adjective and the sub- stantive in their natural order, and the separation they admit of when inverted, is the principal clue to the difficulties that have been proposed : his as- ELOCUTION. ^1 sertion, however, that the adjective and substan- tive in an inverted order admit of a pause, is true only when the adjective is single ; for thousands of instances might be produced, where a pause is no more admissible between a substantive and an ad- jective in their inverted than in their natural order. For example, in the following lines from the Rape of the Lock : Of these the chief the care of natrons own, And guard vvitlvarms divine the British throne. Though the melody of the verse inclines us strongly to pause at arms, yet the adjective divine, imme- diately succeeding, forbids it. Nay, if the line Lord Kaims produces to prove we may pause between the adjective and the substantive in an inverted order — For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain — If this line, I say, had been constructed in this manner, For thee the fates severe, have this ordained, it is evident no pause could be admitted between the substantive fates and the adjective severe, though they are here in their inverted order ; it is not then merely the adjective being placed after the substan- tive which makes it separable from it, but the ad- jective being joined by other words, which, when the substantive is understood, are more immediately connected with each other than with the substantive itself. • If these observations have any solidity, we may perceive how few are the grammatical connexions which absolutely refuse a suspension of pronunciation, for the sake of breathing, where precision or energy require it : it is certainly to be presumed, that the breath of every person is nearly proportioned to the forcible pronunciation of so many words together as are necessary to preserve the sense unbroken ; the contrary, however, would often be the case, if the %2 ELEMENTS OF integrity of the sense depended on the common rules for placing the comma. Let those, however, who can pronounce a long sentence easily and forcibly, provided they preserve the pauses necessary to the sense, take breath as seldom as they please. I have rather consulted the infirmities than the perfections of my fellow creatures ; by endeavouring to point out those resources which are necessary to the weak, without imposing them as rules upon the strong ; — Clausulas e?iim, says Cicero, atque interpuncta ver- borum animce inter cliisio atque angustke spiriMs ad- tulerunt. De Orat. Lib. iii. But from studying the human voice, and not re- lying implicitly on the assertions of the ancients, we perceive the weakness of that common observation, that long sentences require a greater quantity of breath, and a much more forcible exertion in the lungs, than such sentences as are short. The folly of this opinion must evidently appear to those who have taken notice how often we may pause in a long sentence ; and it will be shown hereafter, that the sense of a sentence depends much less on the pause than on the inflexion of voice we adopt ; and that, provided we pause in the proper place, and preserve the proper tone and inflexion of the voice, the sense runs no risk on account of the multiplicity or dura- tion of the pauses. To reduce what has been said into something like a system, we shall endeavour to bring together sen- tences in every variety of construction, and mark, as carefully as possible, such pauses as are necessary to pronounce them with clearness, force, and variety. ELOCUTION. 23 A Practical System of Rhetorical Punctuation. Before we give such directions for pausing, 6v dividing a sentence, as will, in some measure, enable us to avoid the errors of common punctuation, and to point for ourselves, it will be necessary to inquire into the nature of a sentence, and to distinguish it into its different kinds : for this purpose, I shall make use of the words of a very ingenious author,* who has lately written on the Philosophy of Rhetoric : ' Complex ' sentences,' says this author, c are of two kinds ; first, c they are either periods, or sentences of a looser com- * position, for which the language doth not furnish us -f with a particular name. ' A period is a complex sentence, wherein the mean- ' ing remains suspended, till the whole is finished : 6 the connexion, consequently, is so close between ' the beginning and the end, as to give rise to the 6 name period, which signifies circuit ; the following 6 is such a sentence :' " Corruption could not spread with so much sue- " cess, though reduced into system, and though some " ministers, with equal impudence and folly, avowed "it, by themselves and their advocates, to be the " principal expedient by which they governed, if a ng pause, is not meant a pause of any determinate length, but the longest pause in the sentence. Thus the pause between the nominative and the verb in the following sentence : The great and invincible Alexander, wept for the fate of Datius. The pause here, I say, may be called the long pause, though not half so long as the pause between the two principal constructive parts in the following sentence : If impudence prevailed as much in the forum and the courts of justice, as insolence does in the country and places of less resort \ Aulus Caecina would submit as much to the impudence of Sextus jEbutius in this cause, as he did before to his insolence when assaulted by him. Here the pause between the words resort, and Aulus Ccecina, may be called the long pause, not so much from its duration, as from its being the principal ELOCUTION. S3 pause in the sentence : the long pause, therefore, must always be understood relatively to the smaller pauses ; and it may pass for a good general rule, that the principal pause is longer or shorter, according to the simplicity or complexity of the sentence : thus, in the three following sentences, we find the two principal constructive parts separated by a pause in exact proportion to the simplicity or complexity of the members : i EXAMPLES. As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial-plate, so the advances we make in knowledge are only perceiA able by the dis- tance gone over. * As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not. perceive it moving ; so oar advances in learning, consisting of insensible steps, are only perceivable by the distance. As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, but did not perceive it moving; and it appears the grass has grown, though nobody ever saw it grow, so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of such minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance. In the first sentence the two principal constructive parts are separated by a comma at dial-plate; in the second, by a semicolon at moving ; and in the third, by a colon at grow : if, for the purposes of force, variety, or ease (each of which causes will be some- times sufficient reason for a pause, where there is none in the sense)— if, for any of these purposes, I say, it were necessary to pause in the first member of the first sentence, no words seem so readily to admit a pause between them as shadow and moving, as here the object is distinguished from the circumstance at- tending it ; and if a pause were necessary in the last member, the two principal parts here seem to be the nominative phrase ending at knowledge, and the verb with its adjuncts beginning at are. The second sen- tence seems to have all the pauses it will admit of; but the third might, for some of the above-mentioned reasons, have a pause at shadow, and, for reasons that will be given hereafter, ought always to have a pause D 34 ELEMENTS OF at grown ; and as the last member is intersected by an incidental member between the nominative and the verb, it ought to have two subordinate pauses, one at knowledge and the other at steps, before the final pause at distance. Thus when the sentence is divided into its princi- pal parts by the long pause, these parts, if complex, are again divisible into subordinate parts by a short pause ; and these, if necessary, are again divisible into more subordinate parts by a still shorter pause, till at last we arrive at those words which admit of no pause; as the article and the substantive, the sub- stantive and adjective in their natural order, or, if unattended by adjuncts, in any order ; and the pre- positions and the words they govern. These words may be considered as principles, in their nature not divisible; if, without necessity, we pause between other words, the pronunciation will be only languid and embarrassed : but between these, a pause is not only embarrassing, but unsuitable and repugnant to the sense. The subordinate parts of sentences are easily dis- tinguished in such sentences as consist of parts cor- responding to parts, as in the following example : If impudence prevailed as much in the forum and courts of justice, as insolence does in the country and places of less resort ; Aulus Caecina would submit as much to the impudence of Sextus ^Ebutius in this cause, as he did before to his insolence when assaulted by him. Here the whole sentence readily divides into two principal constructive parts at resort ; the first part as readily divides into two subordinate parts at jus- tice ; and the last, into two other subordinate parts at cause ; and these are all the pauses necessary : but if, either from the necessity of drawing breath, or of more strongly enforcing every part of this sen- tence, we were to admit of more pauses than those, it cannot be denied, that for this purpose, some places more readily admit of a pause than others : if, for in- ELOCUTION. m stance, the first subordinate part were to admit of two pauses, they could no where be so suitably placed as at impudence and Jorum ; if the next might be over- pointed in the same manner, the points would be less unsuitable at does and country than at any other words ; in the same manner, a pause might be more tolerable at Ccecina and Mbutius, and at before and insolence, than in amy other of the subordinate parts of the latter division of this sentence. The parts of loose sentences which admit of the short pause, must be determined by the same princi- ples. If this instance has been properly defined, it is a sentence consisting of a clause containing perfect sense, followed by an additional clause which does not modify it. Thus in the following example: Foolish men are more apt to consider what they have lost, than what they possess j and to turn their eyes on those who are richer than themselves, rather than on those who are under greater diffi- culties. Here a perfect sentence is formed at possess, and here must be the longest pause, as it intervenes be- tween two parts nearly independent: the principal pause in the first member of this sentence, which may be called a subordinate pause respecting the whole sentence, is at lost, and that of the last member at themselves ; if, for the sake of precision, other and shorter pauses were admitted, it should seem most suitable to admit them at men and consider in the first member, at eyes and those in the first part of the second member, and at those in the last. In these observations, however, it must be carefully under- stood, that this multiplicity of shorter pauses are not recommended as necessary or proper, but only as possible, and to be admitted occasionally : and, to draw the line as much as possible between what is necessary and unnecessary, we shall endeavour to bring together such particular cases as demand the d 2 36 ELEMENTS OF short pause, and those where it cannot be omitted without hurting either the sense or the delivery. Rule IV. When a nominative consists of more than one word, it is necessary to pause after it. When a nominative and a verb come in a sentence unattended by adjuncts, no pause is necessary, either for the ear or understanding : thus in the following sentence — Alexander wept : no pause intervenes be- tween these words, because they convey only two ideas, which are apprehended the moment they are pronounced ; but if these words are amplified by ad- juncts of specification, as in the following sentence — The great and invincible Alexander, wept for the fate of Darius : here a pause is necessary between these w r ords, not only that the organs may pronounce the whole with more ease, but that the complex nomina- tive and verb may, by being separately and distinctly exhibited, be more readily and distinctly conceived. This rule is so far from being unnecessary when we are obliged to pause after the verb, that it then be- comes more essential. EXAMPLE. This account of party patches will, I am afraid, appear improbable to those who live at a distance from the fashionable world. Addison's Sped. No. 81. If in this sentence we only pause at will, as marked by the printer, we shall find the verb swallowed up, as it were, by the nominative case, and confounded with it ; but if we make a short pause both before and after it, we shall find every part of the sentence obvious and distinct. That the nominative is more separable from the verb than the verb from the objective case, is plain from the propriety of pausing at self- love, and not at forsook, in the following example : Self-love forsook the path it first pursu'd, And found the private in the public good. Pope's Essay on Man. ELOCUTION. 37 The same may be observed of the first line of the fol- lowing couplet : Earth smiles around with boundless bounty blest, And heaven beholds its image in his breast. Ibid. Here though the melody invites to a pause at beholds, propriety requires it at heaven. Rule V. Whatever member intervenes between the nominative ease and the verb, is of the nature of a parenthesis, and must be separated from both of them by a short pause. EXAMPLES. I am told that many virtuous matrons, who formerly have been taught to believe that this artificial spotting of a face was unlawful, are now reconciled, by a zeal for their cause, to what they could not be prompted by a concern for their beauty. Addison's Sped. No. 81. The member intervening between the nominative matrons and the verb are, may be considered as inci- dental, and must therefore be separated from both. When the Romans and Sabines were at war, and just upon the point of giving battle, the women, who were allied to both of them, interposed with so many tears and entreaties, that they prevented the mutual slaughter which threatened both parties, and- united them together in a firm and lasting peace. Addison, Ibid. Here the member intervening between the nomi- native case women, and the verb interposed, must be separated from both by a short pause. Rule VI. Whatever member intervenes between the verb and the accusative case, is of the nature of a parenthesis, and must be separated from both by a short pause. EXAMPLES. I knew a gentleman who possessed the faculty of distinguishing fla- vours in so great a perfection, that, after having tasted ten different kinds of tea, he would distinguish, without seeing the colour of it, the particular sort which was offered him. Addison's Sped, No. 409. 38 ELEMENTS OF The member intervening between the verb distin- guish and the accusative the particular sort, must be separated from them by a short pause. A man of a fine taste in writing will discern, after the same man- ner, not only the general beauties and imperfections of an author, but discover the several ways of thinking and expressing himself, which diversify him from all other authors. Addison, Ibid. The member intervening between the verb discern and the accusative not only the general beauties, must be separated from both by a short pause. Rule VII. When two verbs come together, and the latter is in the infinitive mood, if any words come between, they must be separated from the latter verb by a pause. ■ EXAMPLES. Now, because our inward passions and inclinations can never make themselves visible, it is impossible for a jealous man to be thoroughly cured of his suspicions. Spectator, No. 170. In this example, the verbal phrases, it is impossible and to be thoroughly cured, have the words for a jea- lous man coming between them, which must there- fore be separated from the latter by a comma, or short pause. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune $ Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them ? Shakspeare. If it were necessary for breathing to pause any where in this passage, we should find a pause much more admissible at mind than in any other part, as here a clause intervenes between the verbs is and suffer ; and two verbs seem more separable than a verb and its objective case. ELOCUTION. 39 But when the substantive verb to be is followed by a verb in the infinitive mood, which may serve as a nominative case to it, and the phrases before and after the verb may be transposed, then the pause falls between the verbs. EXAMPLES. • The practice among the Turks is, to destroy, or imprison for life, any presumptive heir to the throne. Here the pause falls between is and to destroy. Their first step was, to possess themselves of Caesar's papers and money, and next to convene the senate. Goldsmith's Roman History. Here we must pause between was and to possess. Never had this august assembly been convened upon so delicate an occasion, as it was, to determine whether Caesar had been a legal magistrate or a tyrannical usurper. Ibid. Here the pause comes between was and to de- termine. Rule VIII. If there are several subjects belonging in the same manner to one verb, or several words be- longing in the same manner to one subject, the sub- jects and verbs are still to be accounted equal in number ; for every verb must have its subject, and every subject its verb ; and every one of the subjects, or verbs, should have its point of distinction and a short pause. EXAMPLE. Riches, pleasure, and health, become evils to those who do not know how to use them. Here the subjects riches, pleasure, and health, be- long each of them to the verb become ; as Riches become an evil, pleasure becomes an evil, and health becomes an evil, &c. Each of these, therefore, must be separated by a short pause ; and all of them, form- ing only one compound nominative case, must, ac- cording to Rule IV. be separated by a short pause from the verb. This last pause must be the more 40 ELEMENTS OF particularly attended to, as we scarcely ever see it marked in printing. One of the best French* gram- marians, however, has decided, that this pause is not only as necessary here as between the other parts, but more so ; " because," says he, " if the pause be omitted between the last nominative and the verb, it might appear that the verb were more closely united to this than any of the rest, contrary to the truth of the case." I am perfectly of opinion with this ingenious gram- marian, with respect to the propriety of placing a pause in speaking, if not in writing, between the last noun and the verb, but for very different reasons : if we ought to insert a pause here, to show that the con- nexion between the last noun and the verb is no greater than between the verb and the preceding nouns, no good reason can be given why we should not place a pause between the last adjective and the substantive in this sentence : A polite, an active, and a supple behaviour, is necessary to suc- ceed in life. The word behaviour, in this sentence, is not more intimately connected in signification with supple, than with polite and active ; and yet no punctuist would insert a pause between the two former, to show that the three properties polite, active, and supple, were equally connected with the common word behaviour. Whence then arises the propriety of placing a pause between the word health and become in the former in- stance ? Evidently from hence : the nominative con- sists of three particulars, which, though distinguished from each other by pauses, form but one nominative plural, and are more connected with each other than with the verb they govern ; their connexion, there- fore, with each other, as forming one distinct part, and not their belonging equally to the verb, is the reason that a pause is proper. If shewing the eon- * Beauzee Grammaire .Generate, torn. ii. p. 583. ELOCUTION. 41 nexion of dependent words to be equal, were the reason for placing a pause, we ought to place a pause between the pronoun and the first verb in the follow- ing example : He went into the cavern, found the instruments, hewed down the trees, and in one day put the vessels in a condition for sailing. Telemachus. Here every member depends equally on the pro- noun he, and yet it would be contrary to the best practice to insert a pause between this word and the verb went. But if the common nominative consisted of more than one word, a pause would not only be allowable, but proper, as in the following example : The active and indefatigable Telemachus, went into the cavern, found the instruments, hewed down the trees, and in one day put the vessels in a condition for sailing. It is, therefore, because the nominative forms a class of words more intimately connected with each other than all are with the verb, that makes this part of speech separable by a pause in the latter example, and not in the former.* Rule IX. If there are several adjectives belonging in the same manner to one substantive, or several substantives belonging in the same manner to one adjective, the adjective and substantives are still to be accounted equal in number ; for every substantive must have its adjective, and every adjective its sub- stantive, and every adjective coming after its sub- stantive, and every adjective coming before the sub- stantive except the last, must be separated by a short pause. EXAMPLE. A polite, an active, and a supple behaviour, is necessary to suc- ceed in life. * Why a pause is used in speaking where a comma might be improper in writing, see p. 13 ; and why a pause may be admitted, buth in writing and speaking, between the substantive and adjective, when several adjectives follow the substantive, and not when J:he adjectives precede the substantive, may be seen at large, p. 21. « ELEMENTS OF In this example, behaviour, as was observed in the foregoing rule, is understood to belong equally to polite and active, as to supple, and, consequently, every adjective has its correspondent substantive ; and as the adjectives come before the substantive, every one but that which immediately precedes its substantive is separated by a pause. The punctua- tion is different in the following sentence : A behaviour, active, supple, and polite, is necessary to succeed in life. In this example, as the substantive precedes the adjectives, every adjective is separated from the sub- stantive by a pause : for the reason of this, see p. 19. Rule X. If there are several adverbs belonging in the same manner to one verb, or several verbs be- longing in the same manner to one adverb, the verbs and adverbs are still to be accounted equal in num- ber : and if the adverbs come after the verb, they are each of them to be separated by a pause ; but if the adverbs come before the verb, a pause must separate each of them from the verb but the last. EXAMPLES. To love, wisely, rationally, and prudently, is, in the opinion of lovers, not to love at all. Wisely, rationally, and prudently to love, is, in the opinion of lovers, not to love at all. In the first example, the verb and adverb are sepa- rated by a pause, for the same reason that the ad- jective was separated from its substantive in the same situation in the preceding rule -.that is, the verb to love excites an idea which the mind may contemplate for a moment separately from the adverb which modifies it ; and as this adverb is accompanied by others, they form a class more united by similitude with each other than with the verb they modify ; and distin- ELOCUTION. 43 guishiug the word to which they all relate by a pause, makes an equal relation to each more distinct and apparent. The reason why this separation does not take place in the last example, is, that though modifying words may be distinguished from each other, they cannot be separated, even in idea, from the words they modify, because they give the mind no object to rest on ; and so intimately are they always connected, that though the modified word comes first, and by this means affords the mind a momentary pause, yet no pause is admitted between the modified and the modifying word, unless the latter is accompanied by other modifying words, which then form a class apart, and require separation both from each other and the word they modify. Thus in the following examples : To eat, drink, and sleep moderately, is greatly conducive to health. Moderately to eat, drink, and sleep, is greatly conducive to health. We find the adverb moderately, in the first example, coming after the verb sleep, and unaccompanied by any other words, is not separated from the verb by a pause, any more than when it precedes the verb, as in the last example : but every critical ear will admit of a pause between the verb and adverb in the fol- lowing lines of Othello in Shakspeare : Then must you speak Of one, that loved, not wisely but too well. Shakspeare. Because in this passage the words, not wisely but too well, form a distinct class, and cannot be distinctly apprehended but by being separated from the verb they modify. But when the adverb precedes the verb it is then in the same case as the adjective before the substan- 44 ELEMENTS OF tive ; it is impossible to divide it from the verb by a pause : EXAMPLES. This ring he holds, In most rich choice, yet in his idle fire, To buy his will it would not seem too dear, Howe'er repented of. Ibid. In this example, the adverb howe'er must neces- sarily be classed with the verb it precedes, and, con- sequently, a pause must be placed at dear. To trace the ways Of highest agents, deem'd however wise. Milton. Here the word however modifies the adjective wise, and therefore is more closely united with it than with the verb deemd : and if this union be not intimated by a short pause at deenid, the sense will be a little ambiguous ; as we shall not know whether these agents are extremely or only moderately wise. But when this word is used conjunctively, that is, when we may supply its place by substituting nevertheless, notwithstanding, yet, or still, a pause ought always to follow it. EXAMPLES. In your excuse your love does little say, You might howe'er, have took a fairer way. Dryden. Here the word howe'er is used conjunctively, and a pause after it is highly necessary. I do not build my reasoning wholly on the case of persecution ; however, I do not exclude it. Alter bury. A pause in this sentence at however, manifestly fixes and regulates the sense of it. Rule XI. Whatever words are put into the case absolute, commonly called the ablative absolute, must be separated from the rest by a short pause. ELOCUTION. 45 EXAMPLES. If a man borrow ought of his neighbour, and it be hurt or die, the owner thereof not being with it, he shall surely make it good. Old Testament. Here the owner thereof not being with it, is the phrase called the ablative absolute ; and this, like a paren- thesis, must be separated from the rest of the sentence by a short pause on each side. God, from the mount of Sinai, whose grey top Shall tremble, he descending, will himself In thunder, lightnings, and loud trumpet's sound Ordain them laws. Milton. Here, he descending, neither governs nor is governed by any other part of the sentence ; and is said to be in the ablative absolute, and this independence must be marked by a short pause before and after the clause. Rule XII. Nouns in apposition, or words in the same case, where the latter is only explanatory of the former, have a short pause between them, either if both these nouns consist of many terms, or the latter only. EXAMPLES. When first thy sire, to send on earth Virtue, his darling child, design'd ; To thee he gave the heav'nly birth, And bade thee form her infant mind. Gray. Here the word Virtue, and the following member, may be said to be in apposition, and must be divided by a short pause. If the two nouns are single, no pause is admitted; as, Paul the apostle ; King George : but if the latter consists of many terms, a short pause is necessary ; as, Paul, the apostle of the Gentiles; George, Icing of Great Britain, France, and Ireland. The reason of this seems to be the same with that which permits us to pause between a substantive and 46 ELEMENTS OF adjective in an inverted order, when the latter has adjuncts that form a class ; for when nouns are in apposition, the latter, by qualifying the former, has the nature of an adjective, and is therefore subject to the same laws of punctuation. Rule XIII. Who, which, when in the nominative case, and the pronoun that, when used for who, or which, require a short pause before them. EXAMPLES. A man can never be obliged to submit to any power, unless he ean be satisfied, who is the person, who has a right to exercise it. Locke. To which, their want of judging abilities, add also their want of opportunity to apply such a serious consideration as may let them into the true goodness and evil of things which are qualities, which seldom display themselves to the first view. South. You'll rue the time, That clogs me with this answer. Shakspeare. Nothing they but dust can show, Or bones that hasten to be so. Cowley, Saints, that taught, and led the way to heav'n. TickeL Rule XIV. When that is used as a casual con- junction, it ought always to be preceded by a short pause. examples'. It is not, that I love you less Than when before your feet I lay, But to prevent the sad increase Of hopeless love, I keep away. Waller. Forgive me, that I thus your patience wrong. Cowley. The custom and familiarity of these tongues do sometimes so far influence the expressions in these epistles, that one may observe the force of the Hebrew conjugations. Locke. There is the greater necessity for attending to this rule, as we so frequently find it neglected in printing : ELOCUTION. 47 for fear of crowding the line with points, and appear- ing to clog the sense to the eye, the ear is often de- frauded of her unquestionable rights. I shall give two instances among a thousand that might be brought to show where this is the case. I must therefore desire the reader to remember that, by the plea- sures of the imagination, I mean only such pleasures as arise origi- nally from sight. Spectator, No. 411. It is true, the higher nature still advances, and by that means, pre- serves his distance and superiority in the scale of being 5 but he knows that, how high soever the station is of which he stands pos- sessed at present, the inferior nature will at length mount up to it, and shine forth in the same degree of glory. Spectator, No. 111. In these examples, we find the incidental member succeeding the conjunction that is separated from it by a pause ; but the pause which ought to precede this conjunction is omitted : this punctuation runs through our whole orthography, and is the more culpable, as the insertion of the pause after that, where it is less wanted than before, is more apt to mislead the reader than if he saw no pause at all. Rule XV. Prepositions and conjunctions are more united with the words they precede than with those they follow ; and, consequently, if it be necessary to pause, the preposition and conjunction ought to be classed with the succeeding words, and not with the preceding. EXAMPLES. A violent passion, for universal admiration, produces the most ridiculous circumstances, in the general behaviour, of women of the most excellent understandings. As it has been formerly remarked (p. 19), we may pause four times in this sentence, if necessary, with- out in the least hurting the sense : that is, at passion, admiration, circumstances, and behaviour ; but if, in- stead of pausing at these words, we w^ere to pause at 48 ELEMENTS OF the words for, produces, in, and of, which are the words immediately succeeding, we shall soon per- ceive to which words the propositions naturally belong. Homer and Hesiod intimate to us how this art should be applied, when they represent the muses as surrounding Jupiter, and warbling" hymns about his throne. In this example, the adverb as, and the co- pulative and, in the last clause, must necessarily be classed with the succeeding, and not the preceding words. I will not let thee go, except thou bless me. Old Testament. Here the conjunction except, naturally associates with the latter part of the sentence, and requires a short pause before it. This let him know, Lest wilfully transgressing, he pretend Surprisal. Milton. In this example, the conjunction lest is very pro- perly separated from the preceding words by a short pause at know, and as the parenthetic words wilfully transgressing come between the conjunction, and the pronoun to which it belongs, the conjunction has very properly a pause both before and after it. People expect in a small essay, that a point of humour should be worked up, in all its parts, and a subject touched upon, in its most essential articles, without the repetitions, tautologies, and enlarge- ments, that are indulged to longer labours. Spect. No. 124. In this sentence the preposition up is separated from in, because it enters into the composition of the verb work, as to ivork up forms one complex verb ; the same may be observed of the proposition upon, in the next clause of the sentence. An exception to this will be found in the following rule. ELOCUTION. 49 Rule XVI. When words are placed either in opposition to, or in apposition with each other, the words so placed require to be distinguished by a pause. This is a rule of very great extent, and will be more fully treated under the article Emphasis : it will be proper, however, to give a general idea of it in this place, as pause and force are very different things, and ought therefore to be treated separately and distinctly. EXAMPLE. i The pleasures of the imagination, taken in their full extent, are not so gross as those of sense, nor so refined as those of the under- standing. Spectator, No. 411. In this example we shall find all writers and print- ers agree in placing but one pause between the four contrasted parts, and this point is at sense ; here, it must be owned, is the principal pause : but it must likewise be acknowledged by every judicious ear, that a short pause at gross, and another at refined, convey more forcibly and distinctly every part of the sentence. Some place the bliss in action, some in ease j Those call it pleasure, and contentment these. Pope's Essay on Man. In this couplet we never see a pause after the two words some in the first line, nor after the words those and contentment in the second ; and yet nothing can be more evident than that a short pause after these words tends greatly to place the sense in a clear and distinct point of view. In the same manner, when one object is succes- sively contrasted with another, though these objects form the nominative case to the verb, and consist but of a single word, it is necessary to pause after each, in order to shew the contrast more distinctly. 50 ELEMENTS OF EXAMPLES. At the same time that I think discretion the most yseful talent a man can be master of, I look upon cunning to be the accomplish- ment of little, mean, ungenerous minds. Discretion points out the noblest ends to us, and pursues the most proper and laudable methods of obtaining them : Cunning has only private selfish aims, and sticks at nothing which may make them succeed. Discretion has large and extended views, and, like a well-formed eye, commands the whole horizon : Cunning is a kind of short-sightedness, thatdis- covers^he minutest objects that are near at hand, but is not able to discern things at a distance. Discretion, the more it is discovered, gives a greater authority to the person who possesses it : Cunning, when it is once detected, loses its force, and makes a man incapable of bringing about even those events which he might have done, had he passed only for a plain man. Discretion is the perfection of reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life ; Cunning is a kind of instinct, that only looks out after our immediate interest and welfare. Discretion is only found in men of strong sense and good understandings : Cunning is often to be met with in brutes them- selves, and in persons who are but the fewest removes from them : in short, cunning is only the mimic of Discretion, and may pass upon weak men, in the same manner as vivacity is often mistaken for wit, and gravity for wisdom. Addison's Spectator, No. SSS. In this passage, much of the force and precision of the contrast between discretion and cunning would be lost without a sensible pause after each. The necessity of distinguishing opposite or con- trasted parts in a sentence, will sometimes oblige us to separate words that are most intimately united. EXAMPLE. To suppose the zodiac and planets to be efficient of, and antece- dent to themselves, would be absurd. Bentley. He the prepositions of and to are in opposition to each other, and both connected intimately with the word themselves ; but this connexion does not pre- clude the necessity of a pause after each, to show their distinct and specific relation to their governing words, and their equal relation to the common word themselves. Indeed, the words of and to, in this sen- tence, are emphatical, for that exactness and pre- cision which the argument seems to require. ELOCUTION. 31 It is objected by readers of history, that the battles in those nar- rations are scarce ever to be understood* This misfortune is to be ascribed to the ignorance of historians, in the method of drawing up, changing the forms of battalia, and the enemy retreating from, as well as approaching to the charge. Spectator, No. 428. The pretexts were, his having invaded and overcome many states that were in alliance with, and under the protection of Rome. Goldsmith's Rom. Hist, Though a pause seems admissible both ai'terfrom and to in this sentence, yet the opposition between these prepositions seems as much marked by empha- sis as by rest : and in examples of this kind it seems necessary to pause a smaller time after the last pre- position than after the first. To sum up the whole in a few words, as those classes of words which admit of no separation are very small and very few, if we do but take the oppor- tunity of pausing where the sense will permit, we shall never be obliged to break in upon the sense when we find ourselves under the necessity of paus- ing ; but if we overshoot ourselves by pronouncing more in a breath than is necessary, and neglecting those intervals where we may pause conveniently, we shall often find ourselves obliged to pause where the sense is not separable, and, consequently, to weaken and obscure the composition. This observation, for the sake of the memory, may be conveniently com- prised in the following verses : In pausing, ever let this rule take place, Never to separate words in any case That are less separable than those you join : And, which imports the same, not to combine Such words together, as do not relate So closely as the words you separate. The interrogation, exclamation, and parenthesis, seem rather to be whole sentences than members of a sentence ; and as they are distinguished from others, e2 52 ELEMENTS OF more by a peculiar inflexion of voice than by paus- ing, they naturally belong to that part of this essay which treats of those inflexions of voice which are annexed to sentences, and parts of sentences, accord- ing to their different structure and signification. Thus have I attempted, with a trembling hand, to hint a few more rules for pausing than have been hitherto generally adopted ; and though but little is accomplished, I flatter myself enough is done to show how much farther we might go in this subject, if we would apply ourselves to it systematically, and leave less to the taste and understanding of the reader. I doubt not that many will be displeased at the number of pauses I have added to those already in use ; but I can with confidence aftirm, that not half the pauses are found in printing which are observed in the pronunciation of a good reader or speaker ; and that, if we would read or speak well, we must pause, upon an average, at every fifth or sixth word. It must also be observed, that public reading, or speak- ing, requires pausing much oftener than reading and conversing in private ; as the parts of a picture which is to be viewed at a distance, must be more distinctly and strongly marked, than those of an object which are nearer to the eye, and understood at the first in- spection. ELOCUTION. 53 Introduction to the Theory of the Inflexions of the Voice. Besides the pauses, which indicate a greater or less separation of the parts of a sentence and a conclusion of the whole, there are certain inflexions of voice, accompanying these pauses, which are as necessary to the sense of the sentence as the pauses themselves; for, however exactly we may pause between those parts which are separable, if we do not pause with such an inflexion of voice as is suited to the sense, the composition we read will not only want its true meaning, but will have a meaning very different from that intended by the writer. How desirable, there- fore, must any method be, that can convey to us that inflexion of voice which, is best suited to the sense of an author ! but this will at first sight be pronounced impossible. What ! it will be said, will any one pre- tend to convey to us, upon paper, all that force, beauty, variety, and harmony, which a good reader throws into composition, when he enters into the spirit of his author, and displays every part of it to advantage ? No, it may be answered, this is not attempted : but, because all this cannot be done, is it impossible to do any part of it ? Because the exact time of pausing is not always denoted by the points in use, is it useless to have any marks of pausing at all ? Because the precise degree of emphatic force is not conveyed by printing some words in a different character, cannot we sometimes assist the reader in apprehending the force or feebleness of pronunciation, by printing the emphatical words in Italics ? The practice of this in books of instruction sufficiently shows it is not entirely useless ; and, if executed with more judgment, there is little doubt of its being ren- dered still more useful. 54 ELEMENTS OF The truth is, something relative to the pronuncia- tion can be conveyed by written marks, and some- thing cannot. The pauses between sentences, and members of sentences, may be conveyed ; the accent on any particular syllable of a word may be conveyed; the emphasis on any particular word in a sentence may be conveyed ; and it is presumed it will be de- monstrated in the course of this work, that a certain inflexion of voice, which shows the import of the pauses, forms the harmony of a cadence, distinguishes emphasis into its different kinds, and gives each kind its specific and determinate meaning, may be as clearly conveyed upon paper, as either the pause, the accent, or the emphatic word : — here then is one step far- ther in the art of reading, than any author has hitherto ventured to go ; and that this new step is not entirely visionary and impracticable, will more clearly appear by considering the nature of speaking sounds* ELOCUTION 55 Of the two simple Inflexions of the Voice. All vocal sounds may be divided into two kinds, namely, speaking sounds, and musical sounds. Mu- sical sounds are such as continue a given time on the precise point of the musical scale, and leap, as it were, from one note to another; while speaking sounds, instead of dwelling on the note they begin with, slide * either upwards, or downwards, to the neigh- bouring notes, without any perceptible rest on any: so that speaking and musical sounds are essentially distinct ; the former being constantly in motion from the moment they commence ; the latter being at rest for some given time in one precise note. The continual motion of speaking sounds makes it almost as impossible for the ear to mark their several differences, as it would be for the eye to define an object that is swiftly passing before it, and continu- ally vanishing away : the difficulty of arresting speak- ing sounds for examination, has made almost all authors suppose it impossible to give any such dis- tinct account of them, as to be of use in speaking and reading ; and indeed, the vast variety of tone which a good reader or speaker throws into delivery, and of which it is impossible to convey any idea but by imi- tation, has led us easily to suppose that nothing at all of this variety can be defined and reduced to rule : but when we consider, that whether words are pro- nounced in a high or low, in a loud or a soft tone : whether they are pronounced swiftly or slowly, for- cibly or feebly, with the tone of the passion, or with- out it; they must necessarily be pronounced either sliding upwards or downwards, or else go into a mo- notone or song ; when we consider this, I say, we shall find, that the primary division of speaking sounds is * Smith's Harmonics; p. 3. Note (c). 56 ELEMENTS OF into the upward and the downward slide of the voice ; and that whatever other diversity of time, tone, or force, is added to speaking, it must necessarily be conveyed by these two slides. These two slides, or inflexions of voice, therefore, are the axis, as it were, on which the force, variety, and harmony of speaking turns. They may be con- sidered as the great outlines of pronunciation ; and if these outlines can be tolerably conveyed to a reader, they must be of nearly the same use to him, as the rough draught of a picture is to a pupil in painting. This then we shall attempt to accomplish, by reducing some of the most familiar phrases in the language, and pointing out the inflexions, which every ear, however unpractised, will naturally adopt in pronouncing them. These phrases, which are in every body's mouth, will become a kind of data, or principles, to which the reader must constantly be referred, when he is at a loss for the precise sound that is understood by these different inflexions ; and these familiar sounds, it is presumed, will sufficiently instruct him. Method of explaining the Inflexions of the Voice, It must first be premised, that by the rising or fall- ing inflexion, is not meant the pitch of voice in which the whole word is pronounced, or that loudness or softness which may accompany any pitch ; but that upward or downward slide which the voice makes when the pronunciation of a word is finishing ; and which may, therefore, not improperly be called the rising and falling inflexion. So important is a just mixture of these two inflex- ions, that the moment they are neglected, our pro- nunciation becomes forceless and monotonous : if the sense of a sentence require the voice to adopt the rising inflexion, on any particular word either in the middle, or at the end of a phrase, variety and harmony ELOCUTION. 57 demand the faliing inflexion on one of the preceding words; and on the other hand, if emphasis, harmony, or a completion of sense, require the falling inflexion on any word, the word immediately preceding, almost always demands the rising inflexion ; so that these inflexions of voice are in an order nearly alternate. This is very observable in reading a sentence, when we have mistaken the connexion between the mem- bers, either by supposing the sense is to be continued when it finishes, or supposing it finished when it is really to be continued : for in either of these cases, before we have pronounced the last word, we find it necessary to return pretty far back to some of the preceding words, in order to give them such inflex- ions as are suitable to those which the sense requires on the succeeding words. Thus, in pronouncing the speech of Portius in Cato, which is generally mis- pointed, as in the following example : Remember what our father oft has told us, The ways of Heav'n are dark and intricate, Puzzled in mazes and perplexd in errors 5 Our understanding traces them in vain, Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search : Nor sees with how much art the windings run, Nor where the regular confusion ends. If, I say, from not having considered this passage, we run the second line into the third, by suspending the voice at intricate in the rising inflexion, and drop- ping it at errors in the falling, we find a very impro- per meaning conveyed; and if, on recovering our- selves from this improper pronunciation, we take notice of the different manner in which we pronounce the second and third lines, we shall find, that not only the last word of these lines, but that every word alters its inflexion ; for, when we perceive, that by mistaking the pause, we have misconceived the sense, we find it necessary to begin the line again, and 58 ELEMENTS OF pronounce every word differently, in order to make it harmonious. But though these two inflexions of voice run through almost every word of which a sentence is composed, they are no where so perceptible as at a long pause, or where the sense of the word requires an emphasis ; especially if the word end with a long- open vowel : in this case, if we do but attend nicely to that turn of the voice which finishes this empha- tical word, or that member of a sentence where we pause, we shall soon perceive the different inflexion with which these words are pronounced. In order to make this different inflection of voice more easily apprehended, it may not, perhaps, be useless to attend to the following directions. Let us suppose we are to pronounce the following sentence: Does Caesar deserve fame or blame? This sentence, it is presumed, will, at first sight, be pronounced with the proper inflexion of voice, by every one that can barely read ; and if the reader will but narrowly watch the sounds of the wovdisfame and blame, he will have an example of the two inflexions here spoken of: fame will have the rising, and blame the falling inflexion : but, to make this distinction still clearer, if, instead of pronouncing the vtoY&fame slightly, he does but give it a strong emphatic force, and let it drawl off the tongue for some time before the sound finishes, he will find it slide upwards, and end in a rising tone : if he makes the same experi- ment on the word blame, he will find the sound slide downwards, and end in a falling tone : and this drawl- ing pronunciation, though it lengthens the sounds beyond their proper duration, does not alter them essentially ; the same inflexions are preserved as in the common pronunciation ; and the distinction is as real in one mode of pronouncing as in the other, though not so perceptible. ELOCUTION. $9 Every pause, of whatever kind, must necessarily adopt one of these two inflexions, or continue in a monotone : thus, when we ask a question without the interrogative words, we naturally adopt the rising inflexion on the last word ; as, Can Caesar deserve blame ? Impossible ! Here blame, the last word of the question, has the rising inflexion, contrary to the inflexion on that word in the former instance ; and impossible, with the note of admiration, the falling ; the comma, or that suspension of voice generally annexed to it, which marks a continuation of the sense, is most frequently accompanied by the rising reflexion, as in the following sentence : If Ceesar deserves blame, he ought to have no falne. Here we find the word blame, marked with a comma, has exactly the same inflexion of voice as the same word in the interrogative sentence immediately pre- ceding ; the only difference is, that the rising inflex- ion slides higher at the interrogation than at the comma, especially if it be pronounced with emphasis. The three other points, namely, the semicolon, colon, and period, adopt either the rising or falling inflexion as the sense or harmony requires, though in different degrees of elevation and depression. But these different degrees of rising or falling on the slide which ends the word, are by no means so essential as the kind of slide we adopt. Thus in the following sentences : As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial-plate, so the advances we make in knowledge are only perceived by the dis- tance gone over. As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not perceive it moving; so our advances in learning; consisting of insensible steps, are only perceivable by the distance. 60 ELEMENTS OF As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, but did not perceive it moving j and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ever saw it grow : so the advances we make in knowledge, as they consist of such minute steps, are only perceiv- able by the distance. Here, I say, the words dial-plate, moving, and grow, marked with the comma, semicolon, and colon, must necessarily end with the upward slide; and provided this slide be adopted, it is not of any very great con- sequence to the sense whether the slide be raised much or little ; but if the downward slide be given to any of these words, though in the smallest degree, the sense will be materially affected. The same points, when the sentence is differently constructed, adopt the other inflexion. Thus the inflexion of voice which is adopted in a series of emphatic particulars, for the sake of force and precision, though these particulars are marked by commas only, is the falling inflexion : we have an example of this in the true pronunciation of the following sentence : I tell you, though you, though all the world, though an angel from heaven, were to affirm the truth of it, I could not believe it. That this is the proper inflexion on each of these particulars, will more evidently appear by repeating them with the opposite inflexion of voice, or that sus- pension usually given to the comma : I tell youthough you, though all the world, though an angel from heaven were to affirm the truth of it I could not believe it. In pronouncing this sentence, therefore, in order to give force and precision to every portion, the falling inflexion ought to be adopted on you, world, and heaven ; and for the sake of conveying what is meant by this inflexion, we may call each of these words emphatical, and print them in Italics ; not that all emphasis necessary adopts the falling inflexion, but ELOCUTION. 61 because this inflexion is generally annexed to empha- sis, for want of a just idea of the distinction of in- flexion here laid down : I tell you, though you, though all the world, though an angel From heaven, were to affirm the truth of it, I could not believe it. The falling inflexion annexed to members of sen- tences generally marked with the semicolon and colon, may be seen in the following example : Persons of good taste expect to be pleased, at the same time they are informed ; and think that the best sense always deserves the best language : but still the chief regard is to be had to perspicuity. In this example, the word informed is marked with the semicolon, and the word language with the colon; and from the sense and structure of the sentence, both require the falling inflexion, contrary to that annexed to the same points in the preceding sentences. The period in each sentence has the falling inflexion, and in the last sentence is pronounced in a lower tone of voice than the same inflexion on the colon and semi- colon. Thus we see, that whatever variety of another kind, such as loudness or softness, highness or lowness, swiftness or slowness, or whatever other variety we may accompany the points with, they must necessa- rily adopt either the rising or falling inflexion, or be pronounced in a monotone. These reflexions, there- fore, which are the most marking differences in read- ing and speaking, perhaps are not improperly pitched upon to serve as guides to an accurate pronunciation ; but as so much depends upon a just notion of this real though delicate distinction, if the reader is not yet made sufficiently acquainted with it he will not think it superfluous to peruse the following attempt to render it still clearer. 02 ELEMENTS OF Another Method of explaining the Inflexions of the Voice. Every sentence consisting of an affirmation and negation directly opposed to each other, has an ap- propriated pronunciation, which, in earnest speaking, every ear adopts without any premeditation. Thus in the following sentence : Caesar does not deserve fame, but blame. Here the word fame has the rising, and blame the falling inflexion ; and we find all sentences construct- ed in the same manner have, like this, the rising in- flexion on the negative, and the falling inflexion on the affirmative number. The word blame, therefore, in this sentence, has not the falling inflexion on it because it is the last word, but because affirmation, opposed to negation, naturally adopts this inflexion. Thus far choice has been made of words different in sense, though similar in sound, that the sentence might appear to carry some meaning with it, and the reader be led to annex those inflexions to the words which the sense seemed to demand ; but, perhaps, the shortest method of conveying the nature of these inflexions, would be to take the same word, and place it in the interrogative and declarative sentences, in opposition to itself: thus it is certain, that every speaker upon pronouncing the following phrases, would give the first/awie in each line the rising, and the \&§tfame in each line, the falling inflexion : Does he say fame, or fame ? He does not say fame, but fame. But here an ear which cannot discern the true differ- ence of sound in these words, will be apt to suppose ELOCUTION. 63 that what difference there is, arises from the last fame being pronounced in a lower tone than the first ; but this, it may be observed, makes no essential differ- ence : let us pronounce the last word in as high a key as we please, provided we preserve the proper inflex- ion, the contrast to the former word will appear ; as a proof of this, let us pronounce the last word of the last phrase with a strong emphasis, and we shall find, that though it is in a higher key than the first word fame, the voice slides in a contrary direction. Accordingly we find, that if we lay the strong emphasis upon the Hirst fame in the following sentence, the last fame will take the rising inflexion : He says fame, and not fame. So that the inflexions on the first and last fame in this sentence, are in an opposite order to the same inflexions on the same words in the two former phrases. But, perhaps, by this time, the reader's ear is puz- zled with the sounds of single words, and it may not be amiss to try it with the same inflexions, terminat- ing members of sentences : this, perhaps, will not only convey the nature of these two inflexions better than by sounding them upon single words, but give us, at the same time, a better idea of their import- ance and utility, And, first, let the reader try over the following passage of Mr. Addison in the Spec- tator, by reading it so as to place the rising inflexion, or that inflexion commonly marked by a comma, on every particular of the series : The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, and full of sublime ideas : the figure of Death, the regal crown upon his head, his menace of Satan, his advancing to the combat, the outcry at his birth, are circumstances too noble to be passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to this king of terrors. 64 ELEMENTS OF Then let him practise it over by reading it so as to place the falling inflexion, or that inflexion com- monly marked by a colon, on every particular of the series but the last : to which let him give the rising inflexion, marked by the comma. The descriptive part of the allegory is likewise very strong, and full of sublime ideas : the figure of Death, the regal crown upon his head, his menace of Satan : his advancing to the combat : the outcry at his birth, are circumstances too noble to be passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to this king of terrors. This last manner of reading this passage is un- questionably the true one, as it throws a kind of emphasis on each member, which forms a beautiful climax, entirely lost in the common mode of pro- nouncing them : and, to omit no method that may tend to convey an idea of this difference of inflexion, let us suppose these words to be all emphatical, and, as such, according to the common method they may be printed in Italics ; this is not an accurate idea of emphasis, as will be shown hereafter, but it is the common one, and, as such, may serve to show the difference between pronouncing the first example and the second. The descriptive part of this allegory is likewise very strong, and full of sublime ideas : the figure of Death : the regal crown upon his head : his menace of Satan : his advancing to the combat : the outcry at his birth, are circumstances too noble to be passed over in silence, and extremely suitable to this king of terrors. If the reader, from this description of the in- flexions of the voice, can so far understand them as to be sensible of the great difference there is between suspending the voice at every comma in the first example, and giving it a forcible downward direction at every colon in the two last examples, it is presumed, he will sufficiently ELOCUTION. 65 conceive, that this distinction of the two leading in- flexions of the voice may be applied to the most use- ful purposes in the art of reading. But in order to give a still clearer idea, if possible, of these two different inflections, we shall subjoin a sort of scale or diagram, with an explanation of each example annexed. 6G ELEMENTS (J«F Explanation of Plate 1. No, I. Did he do it voluntarily or involuntarily ? In the pronunciation of these words, we find every syllable in the word voluntarily rises except the first, vol ; and every syllable in the word involuntarily falls but the first, in. A slow drawling pronunciation of these words will evidently show that this is the case. These different slides of the voice are named from the direction they take in the conclusion of a word, as that is the most apparent, especially if there are several syllables after the accented syllable, or if the word.be but of one syllable, and terminate in a vowel or a liquid : for, in this case, the sound lasts some time after the word is articulated. Thus voluntarily may be said to have the rising, and in- voluntarily the falling inflexion ; and we must care- fully guard against mistaking the low tone at the beginning of the rising inflexion for the falling in- flexion, and the high tone at the beginning of the falling inflexion for the rising inflexion, as they are not denominated rising or falling from the high or low tone in which they are pronounced, but from the upward or downward slide in which they terminate, whether pronounced in a high or a low key. In this representation we see something of that wave-like rising and falling of the voice, which con- stitutes the variety and harmony of speech. It will not be easy at first to conceive this correspondence between the eye and the ear, especially if we do not dwell distinctly on the words we repeat ; but I flatter myself a little custom will soon render it clear, at least w r ith respect to the words that are accented or emphatical; for it is to be observed, that in this scheme every word, whether accented or not, is ar- ranged under that line of sound to which it belongs: ELOCUTION. 67 though the unaccented words are generally pro- nounced so feebly, as to render it often very difficult to say to which class they belong ; that is, whether to the rising or falling inflexion ; but when the ac- cented or emphatic words have their proper inflex- ion, the subordinate words can scarcely be in an im- proper one ; and this makes the difficulty of ascer- taining their true inflexion of less consequence. The accented or emphatic words, therefore, are those only which we need at present attend to ; and those in good speaking and reading, we shall find constantly adopting such an inflexion as is suitable to the sense and harmony of the sentence. The sentence, N° I. and anv other sentence con- structed in exactly the same manner, must necessarily adopt the rising inflexion on the first member, and the falling on the last ; that is, the rising inflexion on voluntary, and the falling on involuntary ; and this pronunciation is so appropriated to this species of sentence, that the dullest and most unpractised ear would, without the least reflection, adopt it. The same may be said of the sentence, N° II. which every ear would agree in pronouncing with the same in- flexions in a contrary order ; that is, the falling inflexion on voluntarily, and the rising on involun- tarily. N° III. and IV. show, that the same words take different inflexions in correspondence with the sense and structure of the sentence ; for as the word con- stitution, in N°JV. only ends a member of the sen- tence, and leaves the sense unfinished, it necessarily adopts the suspending or rising inflexion ; and har- mony requires that the preceding words should be so arranged, as to form the greatest harmony and va- riety, which is done by giving every one of the words an inflexion, different from what it has in N° III. where constitution ends the sentence. But when we say a word is to have the rising in- flexion, it is not meant that this word is to be pro- 68 ELEMENTS OF nounced in a higher tone than other words, but that the latter part of the word is to have a higher tone than the former part ; the same may be observed, mutatis mutandis, of the falling inflexion ; and this difference of tone between the- former and latter part of a word (especially if the word be a monosyllable), is so difficult to analyse, that though we can perceive a difference upon the whole, we cannot easily mark where it lies. But if we form a series of words, beginning with long polysyllables and proceeding to monosyllables, and carefully preserve the same inflexion on each sentence, we shall plainly perceive the diversity of inflexion in the short as well as in the long words. This will appear by pronouncing the different series in the plate annexed. Explanation of Plate II. In this table we find the rising and falling inflexions very distinguishable in the long words, and grow more and more imperceptible in the short ones ; they are, however, no less real in one, than in the other ; as a good ear will easily perceive, by beginning at the long words, and repeating down to the short ones. From N° I. to N° IX. the contrasted words are rising at the comma, and falling at the note of interroga- tion ; and from N° X. to XVIII. they are falling at the comma, and rising at the period. Lest an inaccurate ear should be led to suppose, that the different signification of the opposing words is the reason of their sounding differently, we have given some phrases composed of the same words, which are nevertheless pronounced with exactly the same difference of inflexion as the others. Thus the words conscience, N° IV. are pronounced with the same difference of inflexion as the preceding phrases; that is, the first conscience has the rising, and the last. XIX Did he act -justly XX I know not whether he acted Justly orurt/ustly , but hxt acted contrary to law . XXI If he acted contrary to law, he could not have acted justly , hut unjustly . ELOCUTION. 69 the falling inflexion : the following words, unjustly, pride, mind, all, and lad, have the same diversity of pronunciation ; and the diversity in these, as in the rest, is in an inverted order in the opposite column. If we consider these slides or inflexions with respect to quantity ; that is, how long the upward inflexion continues to rise from the point where it begins, and how long the downward inflexion falls from its com- mencing point; we shall find that as this difference is not easily ascertained, so, in an outline of this kind, it is of no great consequence : the rising or falling of the slide, in a greater or less degree, does not essentially affect the sense or harmony of a sen- tence : whde adopting one slide for the other, will often destroy both. See p. 59. Thus in the interrogative sentence, N° XIX. Did he act justly ? the voice ought to adopt the rising inflexion, and continue the upward slide on the word justly, somewhat longer and higher than if it had been a mere comma ; and yet, if we mark the rising in- flexion on the word justly in the sentence, N° XX. the difference of the slides on these tw T o words in these different sentences is not very considerable. If we consider the sentence, N° XXI. as con- cluding a subject or a considerable branch of it, the voice will gradually slide into a lower tone towards the end, and the word unjustly will be pronounced in a lower tone of voice than in the sentence, N° V. ; but the downward slide in both will be nearly of the same duration and extent: for, as we have before observed, as the different key in which we sing or play a tune, makes no difference in the length or shortness of the notes ; so the different pitch of voice in which we speak or read, has no relation to the height or lowness of the slide or inflexion with which we terminate our words. It will be necessary for the pupil to practise over these series of words, and to form sentences of his own, for the purpose of using the ear to distinguish 70 ELEMENTS OF the inflexions. In order to this, he must dwell longer on the words at which he pauses, and on those which have emphasis, than is proper when he is reading or speaking in common, that the ear may be better en- abled to catch the inflexion : it may be remarked too, that the more colloquial and familiar the language, provided it is earnest and emphatical, the more per- ceptible the inflexions are : and the more elevated and poetical, the less so. The plaintive tone, so essential to the delivery of elegiac composition, greatly di- minishes the slides, and reduces them almost to monotones ; nay, a perfect monotone, without any inflexion at all, is sometimes very judiciously intro- duced in reading verse. Thus in the sublime de- scription of the richness of Satan's throne, in the beginning of the second book of Paradise Lost : High on a throne of royal state which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus or of Inde, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Show'rs on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat. — In this passage, 1 say, ev^ery word of the third and fourth line, but pearl and gold, may be pronounced in a monotone ; and this monotone will greatly add to the dignity and grandeur of the object described. As poetry, therefore, when properly read, will often greatly diminish, and sometimes even entirely sink the inflexions into a monotone ; emphatic sen- tences in prose will be best for the learner to practise upon, in order to acquire an idea of the difference of inflexion ; constantly observing to pro- long and drawl out the pronunciation of the word, the inflexion of which he wants to discover. Perhaps the best method of knowing whether we make use of the inflexion we intend, is to form it into a question with the disjunctive or, and to repeat it in the same manner as the interrogative sentences, Plate II. ELOCUTION. 71 Thus in the following sentence : A contented mind, and a good conscience, will make a man happy in all conditions. In order to pronounce this sentence to the best advantage, it will be necessary to lay the falling in- flexion on the word mind, the rising on conscience, and the falling on all; if I would know the falling inflexion I am to lay on mind, let me form the word into this question, Is it mind, or mind? and the pro- nunciation of the last mind, as in N° VII. will be that which I must adopt in the sentence ; if I want to know the- rising inflexion on conscience, I must say, Is it conscience, or conscience ? and the first pro- nunciation of the word, as in N° IV. is that which I must adopt : the falling inflexion on all will be deter- mined by saying, Is it all, or all ? and the last all has the inflexion sought for. In the same manner, if, in the following couplet of Pope, What the weak head with strongest bias rules Is pride : the never-failing vice of fools. If in this couplet, I say, we are directed to lay the falling inflexion on pride, we need only form the word into this question — Is it pride, or pride ? and the last being the falling inflexion, is that which we ought to adopt in reading the couplet. It may not, perhaps, be altogether useless to observe, that these angular lines may be considered as a kind of bars in the music of speaking : each of them contains a certain portion of either the rising or falling inflexion ; but though every word in each line is pronounced with the same inflexion, they are not all pronounced with the same force; no line can have more than one accented or emphatic syllable in it, 7^ ELEMENTS OF and the rest, though preserving the same inflexion, abate of the force of sound. With respect to the relative force of these unem- phatic words, see Introduction to the Theory of Em- phasis. Utility of a Knowledge of the Inflexions of the Voice. But it will be demanded : suppose we could con- ceive the nature of these inflexions ever so clearly, of what use will it be ? I answer, that as the sense and harmony of a sentence depend so much on the proper application of these inflexions, it will be of infinite use to an indifferent reader to know how a good reader applies them. It will, perhaps, be objected, that an attention to these inflexions, marked upon paper, will be apt to embarrass the mind of the reader, which should be wholly employed on the sense of the writer. To this objection it may be answered, that the very same argument will lie against the use of pauses in printing; and the ancient Greek method of writing without any intervals between words, will, according to this reasoning, be by far the most eligible. The truth is, every thing new embarrasses ; and if we have already acquired an art in an imperfect way, the means of facilitating a more perfect ac- quisition of it, will at first retard our progress : if a child has once learned to read tolerably, without having the words divided into syllables, such a divi- sion will appear new and embarrassing to him : and though syllabication is so confessedly useful tolearners, those who can once read without it, would be rather puzzled than assisted by it. To those, therefore, who already read well, this system of inflexions is not addressed. What help do they stand in need of who are sufficiently perfect ? It is to the ELOCUTION. 73 learner only, and he who is in doubt about the best method of reading a passage, that this assistance is recommended ; and it mav be with confidence as- serted, that if such a one will but bestow half the time to acquire a knowledge of these inflexions that is usually spent in learning the gamut, he will have no reason to repent his labour. A want of instructing youth early in the know- ledge of inflexions, is the great occasion of embarrass- ment in teaching them to read. We can tell them they are too high or too low, too loud or too soft, too forcible or too feeble, and that they either pause, or continue the voice in the wrong place : but we have no way of conveying to them their error, if they make use of a wrong inflexion ; though this may actually be the case, where they are without fault in every other particular : that is, there may be a wrong slide of the voice upon a particular word, though it is neither pronounced too high nor too low, too loud nor too soft, too forcibly nor too feebly, nor with any im- proper pause or continuation of voice. Let us sup- pose, for example, a youth little instructed in reading were to pronounce the following sentence : If we have no regard to our own character, we ought to have some regard to the character of others. There is the greatest probability, I say, that such a reader would pronounce the first emphatic word own with the rising, and the last emphatic word others with the falling inflexion, which by no means brings out the sense of the sentence to the best advantage. To tell him he must lay more stress upon the word own, will by no means set him right, unless the kind of stress is conveyed; for he may increase the stress upon both the emphatic words, without removing the impropriety. In the same manner, if in reading the following passage : Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord ! for in thy sight shall no man living be justified. 74* ELEMENTS OF If, in pronouncing this passage, I say, the reader neglects placing an emphasis on the last thy, it will be in vain to tell him he ought to lay a stress on that word, unless- we direct him to the kind of stress ; for though, in the former instance, the emphasis w r ith the falling inflexion was the true emphasis on own, the same emphasis on thy, in the latter instance, would utterly destroy the meaning : it is evident, therefore, if once a youth were taught to distinguish accurately the rising and falling inflection, how easily and me- thodically instruction in reading might be conveyed. At this point the present treatise might finish ; and, it is presumed, not without having added some- thing to the art of reading. A method which con- veys to us some of the essential turns of a voice in a good reader or speaker, cannot be without its advan- tages. But something farther is proposed. An attempt will be made to point out several of those varieties in the sense and structure of a sentence which severally demand a particular application of these inflexions ; from a variety of these examples, general rules will be drawn, and the whole doctrine of inflexions will be reduced into something like a system. A first essay on an untreated subject can scarcely be exempt from a multitude of inaccuracies; and obscurity is the natural attendant on novelty ; but if any advantages, however small, are the result of this novelty, the candid and judicious reader, who understands the difficulty of the undertaking, will not think even these small advantages entirely unworthy of his attention. ELOCUTION. 79 Practical System of the Inflexions of the Voice. Words adopt particular inflexions, either according to the particular signification they bear, or as they are either differently arranged or connected with other words. The first application of inflexion relates to emphasis, which will be considered at large in its proper place : the last relates to that application of inflexion, which arises from the division of a sentence into its component parts ; and this is the object of punctuation. Punctuation, or the division of a sen- tence, has been already treated in the former part of this work: we now proceed to apply the doctrine of inflexion to that of punctuation, by showing what turns or slides of voice are most suitable to the several distinctions, rests,, and pauses of a sentence. But before any rules for applying the inflexions are laid down, perhaps it will be necessary again to take no- tice, that though there are but two simple or radi- cally different inflexions, the rising and falling, yet the latter is divisible into two kinds of very different and even opposite import. The falling inflexion without a fall of the voice, or, in other words, that inflexion of voice which consists of a downward slide, in a high and forcible tone, may either be applied to that part of a sentence where a portion of sense is formed, as at the word unjustly^ Plate II. N° XX., or to that part where no sense is formed, as at the word temperance, Plate I. N°. VI. ; but when this downward slide is pronounced in a lower and less forcible tone than the preceding words, it in- dicates not only that the sense, but the sentence is concluded. 7^ ELEMENTS OF It must be carefulty noted, therefore, that when- ever the falling inflexion is said to be on a word, it is not meant that this inflexion is to be pronounced in a low and feeble tone, unless the sentence is con- cluded ; and that even a perfect sentence is not always to be pronounced with this inflexion in a low tone, will be shown hereafter under the article Final Pause, or Period. See a farther explanation of this definition, Plate III. N» I. and IV. The rising inflexion is denoted by the acute ac- cent, thus ('). The falling inflexion is denoted by the grave ac- cent, thus ( v ) COMPACT SENTENCE. Direct Period. Rule I. Every direct period, so constructed as to have its two principal constructive parts connected by correspondent conjunctions, requires the long pause with the rising inflexion at the end of the first principal constructive member. EXAMPLES. As we cannot discern the shadow moving along the dial-plate, so the advances we make in knowledge are only perceived by the dis- tance gone over. As we perceive the shadow to have moved, but did not perceive it moving ; so our advances in learning, consisting of insensible steps, are only perceivable by the distance. As we perceive the shadow to have moved along the dial, but did not perceive it moving ; and it appears that the grass has grown, though nobody ever saw it grow; so the advances we make in know- ledge, as they consist of such minute steps, are only perceivable by the distance. Each of these three sentences consists of two prin- cipal correspondent parts; the first commencing with ELOCUTION. 77 as, and the last with so : as the first member of the first sentence is simple, it is marked with a comma only at dial-plate; as the second is compounded, it is marked with the semicolon at moving ; and as the last is decompounded, it is marked with a colon at grow : this punctuation is according to the general rules of pausing, and agreeable to good sense ; for it is certainly proper that the time of the pause should increase with the increase and complexity of the members to which it is annexed, as more time is required to comprehend a large and complicated member than a short and simple one : but whatever may be the time taken up in pausing at the different points, the inflexion annexed to them must always be the same ; that is 5 the comma, semicolon, and colon, must invariably have the rising inflexion. See p. 59. The same may be observed of the following sen- tences. See p. 30. Although I fear it may be a shame to be dismayed at the entrance of my discourse in defence of a most valiant man; and that it no ways becomes me, while Milo is more concerned for the safety of the state than for himself, not to show the same greatness of mind in behalf of him : yet this new form of prosecution terrifies my eyes, which, whatever way they turn, want the ancient custom of the forum, and the former manner of trials. Cicero's Oration for Milo. Although son Marcus, as you have now been a hearer of Cratip- pus for a year, and this at Athens, you ought to abound in the pre- cepts and doctrines of philosophy, by reason of the great character both of your instructor and the city, one of which can furnish you with knowledge, and the other with examples; yet, as I always to my advantage joined the Latin tongue with the Greek, and I have done it not only in oratory, but likewise in philosophy; I think you ought to do the same, that you may be equally conversant in both languages. Cicero's Offices, book 1. chap. i. These sentences begin with the concessive con- junction although, and have their correspondent 78 ELEMENTS OF conjunction yet; and these conjunctions form the two principal constructive members. The words him, and examples, therefore, at the end of the first members must have the rising inflexion, and here must be the long pause. Rule II. Every direct period, consisting of two principal constructive parts, and having only the first part commencing with a conjunction, requires the rising inflexion and long pause at the end of this part. See p. 31. EXAMPLES. As in my speculations I have endeavoured to extinguish passion and prejudice, I am still desirous of doing some good in this par- ticular. Spectator. Here the sentence divides itself into two corre- spondent parts at prejudice ; and as the word so is understood before the words I am, they must be pre- ceded by the long pause and rising inflexion. If impudence prevailed as much in the forum and courts of jus- tice, as insolence does in the country and places of less resort j Aulus Csecina would submit as much to the impudence but when once it is hit, it is sure to give the most exquisite pleasure. It excites in the hearer the most eager desire of imi- tation ; and if this desire be not accompanied by a just taste or good instruction, it generally substitutes the turn ti, turn ti, as it is called, for simple, elegant, poetic harmony. It must, however, be confessed, that elegant readers of verse often verge so nearly on what is called sing song, without falling into it, that it is no wonder those who attempt to imitate them, slide into that blemish which borders so nearly on a beauty. And, indeed, as an ingenious author observes, * " there is such an "affinity between poetry and music, that they were "in the earlier ages never separated; and though " modern refinement has, in a great measure, de- * c stroyed this union, yet, it is with some degree of " difficulty, in rehearsing these divine compositions, " that we forget the singing of the Muse." The truth is, the pronunciation of verse is a species of elocution very distinct fron the pronunciation of prose: both of them have nature for their basis ; but one is common, familiar, and practical nature; the other beautiful, elevated, and ideal nature ; the latter as different from the former as the elegant step of a minuet is from the common motions in walking. Ac- cordingly, we find, there are many who can read prose well, who are entirely at a loss for the pronun- ciation of verse : for these, then, we will endeavour to lay down a few rules, which may serve to facilitate the acquiring of so desirable an accomplishment. But first it may be observed, that though all the passions may be in a poetical dress, and that the movement of the verse may be suited to all their dif- ferent characters ; yet as verse is a species of music, * Philosophical Essay on the Delivery of written Language. 240 ELEMENTS OF none of the passions appear to such advantage in poetry as the benevolent ones ; for as melody is a thing pleasing in itself, it must naturally unite with those passions which are productive of pleasing sen- sations ; in like manner as graceful action accords w 7 ith a generous sentiment, or as a beautiful counte- nance gives advantage to an amiable idea. Thus the noble and generous passions are the constant topics of ancient and modern poems ; and of these passions, the pathetic seems the favourite and most endearing theme. Those readers, therefore, who cannot assume a plaintive tone of voice, w r ill never succeed in read- ing poetry ; and those who have this power, will read verse very agreeably, though almost every other re- quisite for delivery be wanting. It has been observed upon a former occasion, that the different inflexions of the voice upon particular words are not so perceptible in verse as prose ; and that in the former, the voice sometimes- entirely sinks the inflexion, and slides into a monotone. This pro- pensity of the voice in reading verse, shows how nearly poetry approaches to music ; as those notes properly called musical, are really so many monotones, or notes without slides, in different degrees of the musical scale, and sometimes in the same degree. This ap- proach to a monotone, especially in plaintive poetry, makes it often difficult, and sometimes impossible to distinguish whether the slides that accompany the pauses and emphasis of verse are rising or falling: and at those pauses where we can easily distinguish the inflexions, we sometimes find them different from such as we should adopt in reading the passage if it were prose ; that is, we often find the rising inflexion at a pause in verse, where, if it were prose, we should use the falling: an instance is given of this at the end of the series (p. 115) ; and to this many more might be added. For as pronunciation has for its object the strongest and clearest sense, united with the most ELOCUTION. 241 agreeable sound ; if, in order to be harmonious, we must necessarily enfeeble or obscure the sense ; or if, in order to be strong and clear, we find it necessary to be harsh, the composition is certainly faulty ; and all a reader can do in this case is, to make such a compromise between sense and sound as will produce, upon the whole, the best effect. It has been before observed, that sometimes in prose, when the meaning is sufficiently obvious, we may abate an enforcement of sense for the sake of the sound ; and in poetry, the sacrifice to sound is much more necessary ; that is, if the sense be sufficiently clear ; for nothing can offend against every species of pronunciation so much as confusion or obscurity. But though an elegant and harmonious pronun- ciation of verse will sometimes oblige us to adopt dif- ferent inflexions from those we should use in prosaic pronunciation, it may still be laid down as a good general rule, that verse requires the same inflexions as prose, though less strongly marked, and more ap- proaching to monotones. If, therefore, we are at a loss for the true inflexion of voice on any word in poetry, let us reduce it to earnest conversation, and pronounce it in the most familiar and prosaic manner ; and we shall for the most part fall into those very in- flexions we ought to adopt in repeating verse : nay, it is the preservation of these prosaic inflexions that makes the poetic pronunciation natural ; and the whining cant which is adopted by many affected readers of poetry, owes, in a great measure its origin to a neglect of this rule. Thus in the following couplet : Short is the date in which ill acts prevail, But honesty's a rock will never fail. Steele. If we pronounce the last word fail with the rising inflexion, sliding upwards a little higher than usual, we shall infallibly draw the couple into the whining 242 ELEMENTS OF one we are here speaking of ; # but if we pronounce every part of the same sentence exactly in the same manner, except the last word, and give this the falling inflexion, we shall find a natural tone preserved, and the whining cant entirely vanished. This observation naturally leads to a rule which may justly be looked on as the fundamental principle of all poetic pronunciation ; which is, that wherever a sentence, or member of a sentence, would necessarily require the falling inflexion in prose, it ought always to have the same inflexion in poetry ; for though, if we were to read verse prosaically, we should often place the falling inflexion where the style of verse would re- quire the rising, yet in those parts, where a portion of perfect sense or the conclusion of a sentence, necessarily requires the falling inflexion, the same inflexion must be adopted both in verse and prose. EXAMPLE. Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our woe With loss of Eden, till one greater man Restore us, and regain the blissful seat ; Sing heav'nly muse, that on the secret top Of Oreb, or of Sinai didst inspire That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, In the beginning, how the heav'ns and earth Rose out of chaos. Milton s Par ad. Lost, B.i.v.l. Though we were to read this passage quite prosaic- ally, it would not admit of the falling inflexion on any of its pauses till the end, and here the voice ought to assume the falling inflexion, and be in a lower tone than any of the other pauses : but in the following example : High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus or of Inde, * Conversing with Dr. Johnson upon this subject, he repeated this couplet to me in the manner here described ; which he said was the manner in which Savage always used to pronounce verse. ELOCUTION. 243 Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Show'rs on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted sat. Ibid. B. ii. v. 1. In reading this passage prosaically, we might place the falling inflexion on Inde ; but the poetical pro- nunciation of this passage would necessarily require a suspension of voice with the rising inflexion on that word. It may be observed, indeed, that it is in the frequent use of the rising inflexion, where prose would adopt the falling, that the song of poetry consists : familiar, strong, argumentative subjects naturally enforce the language with the falling inflexion, as this is naturally expressive of activity, force, and precision; but grand, beautiful, and plaintive subjects slide na- turally into the rising inflexion, as this is expressive of awe, admiration, and melancholy; where the mind may be said to be passive : and it is this general tend- ency of the plaintive tone to assume the rising in- flexion, which inclines injudicious readers to adopt it at those pauses where the falling inflexion is absolutely necessary ; and for want of which the pronunciation degenerates into the whine, so much and so justly disliked ; for it is very remarkable, that if, where the sense concludes, we are careful to preserve the falling inflexion, and let the voice drop into the natural talking tone, the voice may be suspended in the rising inflexion on any other part of the verse, with very little danger of falling into the chant of bad readers. Thus in the following passage which opens the tragedy of Cato : The dawn is overcast, the morning low'rs, And heavily in clouds brings on the day ; The great, the important day, big with the fate Of Cato and of Rome. The grandeur of the objects and swell of language in this description, naturally throw the voice into those tones that express the awe and dignity which these objects excite in the mind ; and these tones r 2 244< ELEMENTS OF being inclined to the plaintive, naturally slide into the rising inflexion on the pauses ; and this is apt to draw the voice into a chant : but let the word Rome have the falling inflexion and sink into a lower key, in the natural talking tone, and the imperfec- tions in pronouncing the former part will be in a great measure covered ; on the contrary, though the former part be pronounced ever so accurately, if the word Rome has the rising inflexion, the whole will appear to be unfinished, and have a disagreeable whining tone. This may suffice to show the necessity of attending to the pronunciation of periods in verse, and of giving them the same inflexion of voice they would require in prose ; for it must be carefully noted, that though we often end with the rising inflexion in verse, where we should use the falling in prose, yet if in prose it is necessary we should end with the rising inflexion, we ought always to end with the same inflexion in verse ; in this case, the rising inflexion at the end of a sen- tence will not appear to have the whining tone. Thus, where a question would require the rising inflexion in prose, verse will necessarily require it to end with the same inflexion : and in this case, the rising inflexion will have no bad effect on the ear. EXAMPLE. What ! shall an African, shall Juba's heir Reproach great Cato's son, and show the world A virtue wanting in a Roman soul ! Here, though everypause requires the rising inflexion, and the period the same, yet as this period is an inter- rogation requiring the rising inflexion, no whining chant is the consequence, but the whole is natural. From these observations, this general rule will naturally arise ; that though, in verse, we frequently suspend the voice by the rising inflexion, where, if the composition were prose, ive should adopt the falling ; ELOCUTION. 245 yet wherever, in prose, the member or sentence, ivould necessarily require the rising inflexion, this inflexion must necessarily be adopted in verse. An instance of all these causes maybe found in the following example from Pope : He who through vast immensity can pierce, See worlds on worlds compose one universe ; Observe how system into system runs, What other planets circle other suns j What vary'd being peoples ev'ry star, May tell why Heav'n has made us as we are. But of this frame, the bearings and the ties, The strong connexions, nice dependencies, Gradations just, has thy pervading soul Look'd through ? or can a part contain the whole ? Is the great chain that draws all to agree, And draws supports, upheld by God, or thee ? If this passage were prose, every line but the fifth might end with the falling inflexion, like a commenc- ing series of five members ; but the fifth, being that where the two principle constructive parts unite, and the sense begins to form, here, both in prose and verse, must be the principal pause, and the rising inflexion.* The two questions with which this sentence ends, ought to have the rising inflexion also, as this is the inflexion they would necessarily have in prose ; though from injudiciously printing the last couplet so as to form a fresh paragraph, the word whole is gene- rally pronounced with the falling inflexion, in order to avoid the bad effect of a question with the rising inflexion at the end of a paragraph ; which would be effectually prevented by uniting the last couplet to the rest, so as to form one whole portion ; and which was undoubtedly the intention of the poet. Having premised these observations, we shall en- deavour to throw together a few rules for the reading of verse, which, by descending to particulars, it is hoped will be more useful than those very general * See Part I. p. 67,77- 246 ELEMENTS OF ones which are commonly to be met with on this sub- ject ; and which, though very ingenious, seem cal- culated rather for the making of verses than the read- ing of them. Rule I. As the exact tone of the passion, or emotion, which verse excites, is not at first easy to hit, it will beproper always tobegin apoem in a simple and almost prosaic style, and so proceed till we are warmed with the subject, and feel the emotion we wish to express. Thus in Gray's Elegy in a Country Church-yard, if we cannot immediately strike into the solemn style with which that poem begins, it will be bet- ter to commence with an easier and less marking tone ; and somewhat like the style of reading prose, till the subject becomes a little familiar. There are few poems which will not allow of this prosaic commencement ; and where they do not, it is a much less fault in reading to begin with too little empha- sis, than either to strike into a wrong one, or to execute the right emphasis awkwardly. Gray's Elegy on the Extirpation of the Bards, is almost the only one that does not admit of commencing mode- ratelv. Ruin seize thee, ruthless king ! Contusion on thy banners wait ! Sec. Rule II. In verse every syllable is to have the same accent, and every word the same emphasis, as in prose ; for though the rhythmical arrangement of the accent and emphasis is the very definition of poetry, yet, if this arrangement tends to give an emphasis to words which would have none in prose, or an accent to such syllables as have properly no accent, the rhythm us, or music of the verse, must be entirely neglected. Thus the article the ought never to have a stress, though placed in that part of the verse where the ear expects an accent. ELOCUTION. 247 Of all tlie causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgment and misguide the mind, What the weak head with strongest bias rules, Is pride ; the never-failing vice of fools. Pope. An injudicious reader of verse would be very apt to lay a stress upon the article the in the third line, but a good reader would infallibly neglect the stress on this, and transfer it to the words what and weak. Thus also in the following example, no stress must be laid on the word of, because we should not give it any in prosaic pronunciation : Ask of thy mother earth why oaks are made Taller and stronger than the weeds they shade. Ibid. For the same reason the word as, either in the first or second line of the following couplet, ought to have no stress : Eye nature's walk, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise. Ibid. The last syllable of the word excellent, in the follow- ing couplet, being the place of the stress, is very apt to draw the organs to a wrong fpronunciation of the word, in compliance with the rhythmus of the verse : Their praise is still the style is excellent : The sense they humbly take upon content. Ibid. But a stress upon the last syllable of this word must be avoided upon pain of the greatest possible re- proach to a good reader ; which is that of altering the accent of a word, to indulge the ear in a childish jingle^of syllables. The same may be observed of the word eloquence and the particle the in the following couplet : False eloquence like the prismatic glass Its gaudy colours spreads on ev'ry place. Ibid, 248 ELEMENTS OF If in compliance with the rhythmus, or tune of the verses, we were to lay a stress on the last syllable of eloquence, and on the particle the in the first of these verses, scarcely any thing can be conceived more disgusting to a good judge of reading. A bad fault opposite to this is very common among bad readers ; and that is, hurrying over the two last syllables of such words so as to reduce the pronuncia- tion to prose : for it must be carefully noted, that the beauty of reading verse depends exceedingly upon the tune in which we pronounce it. The unaccented syllables, though less forcible, ought to have the same time as those that are accented ; a regular march, an agreeable movement, ought to reign through the whole. This rule, however, with respect to the place of the accent, admits of some few exceptions. Mil- ton has sometimes placed words so unfavourably for pronunciation in the common way, that the ear would be more disgusted with the harshness of the verse, if the right accent were preserved, than with a wrong accent which preserves the harmony of the verse : for it is not merely reducing a line to prose if the sense requires it, which is a capital fault in reading poetry, but reducing it to very harsh and disagreeable prose. Thus the Angel, in Milton, reasoning with Adam about the planets, says, For such vast room in nature unpossessed By living soul, desert and desolate Only to shine yet scarcely to cdntribute Each orb a glimpse of light, convey'd so far Down to this habitable, which returns Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. Par ad. Lost, B. viii. v. 153, The word contribute has properly the accent on the second syllable; but the verse would Jbe so harsh with this accent, that it is presumed a good reader would, for the sake of sound, lay the principal ELOCUTION. 249 accent on the first syllable, and a subordinate stress on the third. The same may be observed of the word attribute^ in the following passage from the same author : The swiftness of those circles attribute, Though numberless, to this Omnipotence, That to corporeal substances could add Speed almost spiritual. Farad. Lost, B. viii. 197 Where a word admits of some diversity in placing the accent, it is scarcely necessary to observe/that the verse ought in this case to decide. Thus in the following passage : Now gentle gales Fanning their odoriferous wings dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils. Ibid. B. iv. v. 156. For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, A violet in the youth and prime of nature, Forward not permanent, though sweet not lasting, The perfume of a minute. Shakspeare. The word perfume in the passage from Milton ought to be accented on the last syllable, and the same word in Shakspeare on the first ,• for both these modes of placing the accent are allowable in prose, though the last seems the preferable ; as it is agree- able to that analogy of dissyllable nouns and verbs of the same form which requires the accent to be on the first syllable of the noun, and on the last of the verb. ]>ut when the poet has with great judgment con- trived that his numbers shall be harsh and grating, in order to correspond to the ideas they suggest, the common accentuation must be preserved. 250 ELEMENTS OF On a sudden open fly With impetuous recoil and jarring- sound Th' infernal doors, and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder. Parad. Lost, B. ii. v. 879. Here the harshness arising from the accent on the second syllable of the word impetuous, finely expresses the recoil and jarring sounds of the gates of hell. Rule III. The vowel e, which is often cut off by an apostrophe in the word the, and in syllables before r, as dangerous, genrous, &c. ought to be preserved in the pronunciation, because the syllable it forms is so short as to admit of being sounded with the preceding syllable, so as not to increase the number of syllables to the ear, or at all hurt the harmony. 'Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill Appear in writing, or in judging ill 5 But of the two less dang'rous is the offence, To tire our patience, than mislead our sense. Pope. Him the Almighty power Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine chains, and penal fire, Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms. Milton. In the example from Milton, we have an instance that the particle the may either form a distinct syl- lable in poetry or not ; in the first line it *must ne- cessarily form a distinct syllable ; in the second and last it may be so blended with the succeeding word as to be pronounced without elision, and yet form no distinct syllable. Rule IV. Almost every verse admits of a pause in or near the middle of the line, which is called the caesura ; this must be carefully observed in reading- verse, or much of the distinctness, and almost ad the harmony, will be lost. • ELOCUTION. 251 EXAMPLE. Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit, And wisely curb'd proud man's pretending wit j As on the land, while here the ocean gains, In other parts it leaves wide sandy plains ; Thus in the soul, while memory prevails, The solid pow'r of understanding fails j Where beams of warm imagination play The memory's soft figures melt away. Pope. These lines have seldom any points inserted in the middle, even by the most scrupulous punctuist ; and yet nothing can be more palpable to the ear, than that a pause, in the first at things, in the second at curb'd, in the third at land, in the fourth at parts, and in the fifth at soul, is absolutely necessary to the harmony of these lines ; and that the sixth, by admitting no pause but at understanding, and the seventh, none but at imagination, border very nearly upon prose. The reason why these lines will not admit of a pause any where but at these words will be evident to those who have perused the former part of this work on the division of a sentence (Part I. page 16) ; and if the reader would see one of the most curious pieces of analysis on this subject in any language, let him peruse in Lord Kaims's Elements of Criticism the chapter on Versification, where he will find the subject of pausing, as it relates to verse, discussed in the deepest, clearest, and most satisfac- tory manner. It will be only necessary to observe, in this place 5 that though the most harmonious place for the capital pause is after the fourth syllable, it may, for the sake of expressing the sense strongly and suitably, and sometimes even for the sake of va- riety, be placed at several other intervals. EXAMPLE. 'Tis hard to say — if greater want of skill. So when an angel — by divine command, With rising tempest — shakes a guilty land. Then from his clossng eyes— thy form shall part, 252 ELEMENTS OF And the last pang — shall tear thee from his heart. Inspir'd repuls'd battalions — to engage, And taught the doubtful battle — where to rage. Know, then, thyself — presume not God to scan ; The proper study of mankind is man. But besides the capital pause, there are certain sub- ordinate pauses, which, though not so essential as the capital pause, yet according to some of our pro- sodists, form some of the greatest delicacies in reading verse, and are an inexhaustible source of variety and harmony in the composition of poetic numbers. But in the exemplifying of this demi-ccesura, or subordi- nate pause, our prosodists either show the impropriety of many of these pauses, or that they may be ac- counted for upon a different principle. EXAMPLE. Relent | less walls || whose darksome round | contains. For her | white virgins || hyme | neals sing. In these | deep solitudes || and awe | ful eels. Nothing could be more puerile and destructive of the sense than to make pauses as they are here marked in the middle of the words relentless, hymeneal, and awful, which are the instances Lord Kaims brings of the use of this half pause. In the lines quoted by Mr. Sheridan, as instances of the demi-csesura, we find an emphatic opposition at every one ; and this opposition always requires a pause, whether in prose or verse. See Part I. p. 49- Glows | while he reads || but trembles | as he writes. Reason | the card || but passion | is the gale. From men ] their cities [] and from | gods their fanes. From storms j a shelter || and from heat | a shade. So that, on the whole, notwithstanding the decided manner in which these prosodists speak of the demi- ccesura as necessary in verse, I am apt to conclude that it often exists no where but in their own imagi- ELOCUTION. 253 nations. But the next Rule will lead us to the con- sideration of a pause of much more importance, which is a pause at the end of the line. Rule V. At the end of every line in poetry must be a pause proportioned to the intimate or remote connection subsisting between the two lines. Mr. Sheridan, in his Art of Reading, has insisted largely on the necessity of making a pause at the end of every line in poetry, whether the sense requires it or not, which he says has hitherto escaped the obser- vation of all writers on the subject; and, this he ob- serves, is so necessary, that without it we change the verse into prose. It is with diffidence I dissent from such an authority, especially as I have heard it ap- proved by persons of great judgment and taste.* I must own, however, that the necessity of this pause, where the sense does not require it, is not so evident to me as to remove every doubt about it ; for, in the first place, if the author has so united the preceding and following lines in verse as to make them real prose, why is a reader to do that which his author has neglected to do ; and indeed seems to have forbidden by the very nature of the composition ? In the next place, this slight and almost insensible pause of sus- pension does not seem to answer the end proposed by it; which is, that of making the ear sensible of the versification, or of the number of accentual impres- sions in every line. For this final pause is often so small, when compared with that which precedes or follows it in the body of the line, and this latter and larger pause is so often accompanied with an inflexion of voice which marks the formation of perfect sense, * I asked Dr. Lowth, Mr. Garriek, and Dr. Johnson, about the propriety of this pause, and they all agreed with Mr. Sheridan. Had I been less acquainted with the subject, and seen less of the falli- bility of great names upon it, I should have yielded to this decision ; but great names are nothing where the matter in question is open to experiment j and to this experiment I appeal. 254 ELEMENTS OF that the boundaries of the verse become almost, if not utterly imperceptible, and the composition, for a few lines, falls into an harmonious kind of prose. For it is evident that it is not a small pause at the end of a line in verse, which makes it appear poetry to the ear, so much as that adjustment of the accented syllables which forms a regular return of stress, whether the line be long or short. Accordingly, we find, that those lines in blank verse, which have a long pause in the middle from a conclusion of the sense, and a very short one at the end, from the sense continuing, are, in spite of all our address in reading, very prosaical. This prosaic air in these lines may have a very good effect in point of expression and variety, but if too fre- quently repeated, will undoubtedly render the verse almost imperceptible; for, as was before observed, the ear will measure the lines by the greatest pauses, and if these fall within, and not at the end of the line, the versification will seem to be composed of unequal lines, and will want that measure which the ear always expects in verse, and never dispenses with, but when sense, variety, or expression is promoted by it. EXAMPLES. Deeds of eternal fame Were done, but infinite j for wide was spread That war, and various ; sometimes on firm ground A standing fight j then soaring on main wing, Tormented all the air ; all air seem'd then Conflicting fire : long time in even scale The battle hung Milton. The pauses at the end of these lines are so small, when compared with these in the body of the lines, that an appeal may be made to every ear for the truth of what has been just observed. This dispro- portion in the pauses cannot, however, be said to re- duce the composition to prose ; nay, even if we were to use no pauses at all at the end of the lines, they ELOCUTION. 255 would not, on this account, entirely lose their poetic character ; for, at worst, they might be called nume- rous or harmonious prose ; and that the greatest part of blank verse is neither more nor less than this, it would' not be difficult to prove. Mr. Sheridan defines numbers to be certain impres- sions made on the ear at stated and regular distances; and as he supposes verse would be no verse without a pause at the end of each line, he must define verse to be a certain number of impressions made on the ear at stated and regular distances, terminated by a pause, so as to make this number of impressions per- ceptibly equal in every line. But if a pause comes into the definition of verse because it serves to show the equal number of impressions in every line, a pause that is insufficient for this purpose is not, strictly speaking, a poetical pause ; for if the pause classes words into such portions as oblige the ear to perceive the equality or inequality of these portions, the longest pauses will be the boundaries of those portions the ear will most readily perceive, and the short pauses will, like the demi-caesura, appear either im- perceptible or subservient only to the greater pause : Thus the foregoing passage from Milton will, while we are pronouncing it, address the ear in the same manner it does the eye in the following arrange- ment : Deeds of eternal fame were done, but infinite : For wide was spread that war and various ; Sometimes on firm ground a standing fight ; Then soaring on main wing, tormented all the air j All air seem'd then conflicting fire : Long time in even scale the battle hung. This arrangement of the words, though exactly classed into those portions in which they come to the ear, seems to destroy the verse to the eye, and to re- duce it into what may be called numerous prose : but have we not reason to suspect that the e} 7 e puts a cheat upon the ear, by making us imagine a pause to exist 256 ELEMENTS OF where there is only a vacancy to the eye ? Mr. She- ridan has very properly accounted for the perception of false quantity in Latin verse by this association of visible and audible objects, and there seems an equal reason to suspect the same fallacy here. The best pronouncers of tragedy have never ob- served this pause, and why it should be introduced into other composition is not easily comprehended : the numbers of the verse, the dignity of the lan- guage, an inversion of the common order of the words, sufficiently preserve it from falling into prose; and if the name of verse only be wanting, the loss is not very considerable. When the line is terminated by a rhyme, the boundaries of the verse are very discernable by the smallest pause ; though the most harmonious rhyming verse must be acknowledged to be that where the rhyme is accompanied by a consi- derable pause in the sense ; but as too long a succes- sion of these lines satiates the ear with too much equality, we readily exchange sound for variety or force of expression. Sometimes even the pauses before and after a rhyme are so considerable, and that at the end of the rhyme so small, that the boundaries of the verse are lost in the rapidity of the expression. Which, without passing through the judgment, gains The heart, and all its end at once attains. Pope. 'Tis with our judgments as our watches ; none Go just alike, yet each believes his own. Ibid. In these lines I think it is evident, that if we make a small pause of suspension, as Mr. Sheridan calls it, at the end of the first verse, the pauses of sense at judgment, and heart, and at watches and alike, are so much more perceptible, that every trace of the length of the verse is lost: the same may be observed of the following lines of Milton : Sing heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire ELOCUTION. 257 That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed In the beginning, how the heav'ns and earth Rose out of chaos : Or if Sion hill Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook, that flow'd Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence Invoke thy aid to my advent'rous song. In the fifth, sixth, and seventh lines of this passage, the pause in the sense falls so distinctly on the words chaos, more, and God, that a slight pause at kill, flowd, and thence, would not have the least power of informing the ear of the end of the line, and of the equality of the verse, and, therefore, for these pur- poses would be entirely useless. For in all pronuncia- tion, whether prosaic or poetic, at the beginning of every fresh portion, the mind must necessarily have the pause of the sense in view ; and this prospect of the sense must regulate the voice for that portion, to the entire neglect of any length in the verse, as an -attention to this must necessarily interrupt that flow or current in the pronunciation which the sense de- mands. Thus the current of the voice is stopped at chaos ; and the succeeding part of the verse, Or if Sion hill, is so much detached from the preceding part, that the ad measurement of the verse is destroyed to the ear, and we might add a foot more to the latter part of the verse without seeming at all to lengthen it ; we might, for example, write the line in this manner, Rose out of Chaos ; or if Sion's verdant hill, without any indication of false quantity to the ear, though the eye scans it as too long by two syllables. The affectation which most writers of blank verse have of extending the sense beyond the line, whether necessary or not, is followed by a similar affectation in the printer, who will often omit placing a pause at the end of a line of verse, where he, would have inserted one in prose ; and this affectation is still car- s 258 ELEMENTS OF ried farther by the reader, who will generally run the sense of one line into another, where there is the least opportunity of doing it, in order to show that he is too sagacious to suppose there is any conclusion in the sense because the line concludes. This affecta- tion, I say, has possibly given rise to the opposite one adopted by the learned ; namely, that of pausing where the sense absolutely forbids a pause, and so by shunning Scylla, to fall into Charybdis : this error is excellently described by Pope : The vulgar thus through imitation err, As oft the learn'd by being singular ; So much they hate the crowd, that if the throng By chance go right, they purposely go wrong. The truth is, the end of a line in verse naturally in- clines us to pause; and the words that refuse a pause so seldom occur at the end of a verse, that we often pause between words in verse where we should not in prose, but where a pause would by no means interfere with the sense : this, it is presumed, has been fully shown in a former part of this work; and, this per- haps, may be the reason why a pause at the end of a line in poetry is supposed to be in compliment to the verse, when the very same pause in prose is allowable, and, perhaps, eligible, but neglected as unnecessary: however this be, certain it is, that if we pronounce many lines in Milton, so as to make the equality of impressions on the ear distinctly perceptible at the end of every line ; if by making this pause, we make the pauses that mark the sense less perceptible, we exchange a solid advantage for a childish rhythm, and, by endeavouring to preserve the name of verse, lose ail its meaning and energy. Rule VI. In order to form a cadence in a period in rhyming verse, we must adopt the falling inflexion with considerable force, in the caesura of the last line but one. ELOCUTION. 259 EXAMPLE. One science only will one genius fit, So vast is art, so narrow human wit -, Not only bounded to peculiar arts, But oft in those confin'd to single parts ; Like kings we lose the conquests gain'd before, By vain ambition still to make them more ; Each might his several province || well command. Would all but stoop to what they understand. In repeating these lines, we shall find it necessary to form the cadence by giving the falling inflexion with a little more force than common to the word province. The same may be observed of the word prospect, in the last line but one of the following page: So pleas'd at first, the tow'ring Alps we try, Mount o'er the vales, and seem to tread the sky 5 Th' eternal snows appear already past, And the first clouds and mountains seem the last : But those attain'd, we tremble to survey The growing labours of the lengthen'd way ; Th' increasing prospect || tires our wand'ring eyes, Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise. Rule VII. A simile in poetry ought always to be read in a lower tone of voice than that part of the passage which precedes it. EXAMPLE. 'Twas then great Marlb'rough's mighty soul was prov'd, That in the shock of charging hosts unmov'd, Amidst confusion, horror, and despair, Examin'd all the dreadful scenes of war. In peaceful thought the field of death survey'd, To fainting squadrons sent the timely aid j Inspir'd repuls'd battalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage. So when an angel, by divine command With rising tempest shakes a guilty land (Such as of late o'er pale Britannia past), Calm and serene he drives the furious blast ; And, pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform, Rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm., Addison. s2 260 ELEMENTS OF Rule VIII. Where there is no pause in the sense at the end of the verse, the last words must have ex- actly the same inflexion it would have in prose. EXAMPLE. O'er their heads a crystal firmament, Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure * Amber, and colours of the show'ry arch. Milton. In this example, the word pure must have the falling inflexion, whether we make any pause at it or not, as this is the inflexion the word would have if the sen- tence were pronounced prosaically. For the same reason the words retired and went, in the following example, must be pronounced with the rising in- flexion. At his command th' uprooted hills retir'd Each to his place ; they heard his voice and went Obsequious ; heav'n his wonted face renewed, And with fresh fiow'rets hill and valley smil'd. Rule IX. Sublime, grand, and magnificent descrip- tion in poetry, frequently requires a lower tone of voice, and a sameness nearly approaching to a mo- notone, to give it variety. This rule will surprise many who have always been taught to look upon a monotone or sameness of voice as a deformity in reading. A deformity it certainly is, when it arises either from a want of power to alter the voice, or a want of judgment to introduce it pro- perly; but I presume it may be with confidence affirmed, that when it is introduced with propriety, it is one of the greatest embellishments of poetic pro- nunciation. Nay, a monotone connected with pre- ceding and succeeding inflexions, is a real variety, and is exactly similar to a succession of the same identical notes in music ; which, considered apart, is * This, it is presumed, is an instance, that a pause of suspension may sometimes be improper at the end of a line. See pages 255, 256. ELOCUTION. 261 perfectly monotonous, but, taken with what goes before and follows, is among the finest beauties of composition. The use of the monotone has already been exem- plified, page 70, in the grand description of Satan's throne, at the beginning of the Second Book of Para- dise Lost, and may be farther illustrated by a passage of the Allegro of the same poet. Hence ! loath'd Melancholy, Of Cerberus, and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, 'Mongst horrid shapes and shrieks, and sights unholy. Find out some uncouth cell, Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night raven sings 5 There, under ebon shades and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. In repeating this passage, w T e shall find the dark- ness and horror of the cell wonderfully augmented, by pronouncing the eighth line, There, under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, in a low monotone ; which monotone may not be improperly signified, by the horizontal line generally used to mark long quantity ; as this line is perfectly descriptive of a sameness of tone 5 as the acute and grave accent are of variety. 262 ELEMENTS OF Modulation of the Voice. After a perfect idea is attained of the pause, em- phasis, and inflexion, with which we ought to pro- nounce every word, sentence, interrogation, climax, and different figure of speech, it will be absolutely necessary to be acquainted with the power, variety, and extent of the instrument, through which we con- vey them to others ; for unless this instrument be in a proper pitch, whatever we pronounce will be feeble and unnatural ; as it is only in a certain pitch that the voice can command the greatest variety of tones, so as to utter them with energy and ease. Every one has a certain pitch of voice, in which he is most easy to himself, and most agreeable to others ; this may be called the natural pitch : this is the pitch in which we converse ; and this must be the basis of every improvement we acquire from art and exercise : for such is the force of exercise upon the organs of speech, as well as every other in the hu- man body, that constant practice will strengthen the voice in any key we use it to, even though this hap- pen not to be the most natural and easy at first. This is abundantly proved by the strong vociferation which the itinerant retailers in the streets acquire after a few years' practice. Whatever key they happen to pitch upon at first is generally preserved; and the voice in that note becomes wonderfully strong and sonorous : but as the Spectator humurously observes, their articulation is generally so indistinct, that we under- stand what they sell, not so much by the words as the tune. As constant exercise is of such importance to strengthen the voice, care should be taken, that we exercise it on that part where it has naturally the greatest power and variety : this is the middle tone ; ELOCUTION. %6S the tone we habitually make use of, when we converse with, or speak to persons at a moderate distance ; for if we call out to one who is so far off as to be almost out of hearing, we naturally raise our voice to a higher key, as well as swell it upon that key to a much greater degree of loudness ; as, on the contrary, if we wish to be heard only by a single person in company, we naturally let fall our voice into a lower key, and abate the force of it, so as to keep it from being heard by any but the person we are speaking to. In this situation nature dictates : but the situation of the public speaker is a situation of art ; he not only wishes to be heard, but to be heard with energy and ease ; for this purpose, his voice must be power- ful in that key which is easiest to him, in that which he will most naturally fall into, and which he will certainly have the most frequent occasion to use ; and this is the middle tone. But before we enter farther on this subject, it seems absolutely necessary to obviate a very common mis- take with respect to the voice, which may lead to an incurable error ; and that is, the confounding of high and low with loud and soft. These plain differences are as often jumbled together as accent and quantity, though to much worse purpose. Our mistaking of accent for quantity when we converse about it, makes not the least alteration in our speaking ; but if, when we ought only to be louder, we raise our voice to a higher key, our tones become shrill and feeble, and frustrate the very intention of speaking. Those who understand ever so little of music, know that high and loud, and soft and low are by no means necessarily connected j and that we may be very soft in a high note, and very loud in a low one ; just as a smart stroke on a bell may have exactly the same note as a slight one, though it is considerably louder. But to explain this difference to those who are unac- quainted with music, we may say, that a high tone is that we naturally assume when we wish to be heard 264 ELEMENTS OF at a distance, as the same degree of force is more audible in a high, than in a low tone, from the acute- ness of the former, and the gravity of the latter ; and that a low tone is that we naturally assume when we are speaking to a person at a small distance, and wish not to be heard by others ; as a low tone with the same force is less audible than a high one ; if, there- fore, we raise our voice to the pitch we should natur- ally use if we were calling to a person at a great dis- tance, and at the same time exert so small a degree of force as to be heard only by a person who is near us, we shall have an example of a high note in a soft tone ; and on the contrary, if we suppose ourselves speaking to a person at a small distance, and wish to be heard by those who are at a greater, in this situa- tion we shall naturally sink the voice into a low note, and throw just as much force or loudness into it as is necessary to make it audible to the persons at a dis- tance. This is exactly the manner which actors speak the speeches that are spoken aside. The low tone conveys the idea of speaking to a person near us, and the loud tone enables us to convey this idea to a distance. By this experiment we perceive, that high and loud, and soft and low, though most frequently associated, are essentially distinct from each other. Such, however, is the nature of the human voice, that to begin in the extremes of high and low are not equally dangerous. The voice naturally slides into a higher tone, when we want to speak louder, but not so easily into a lower tone, when we would speak more softly. Experience shows us, that we can raise our voice at pleasure to any pitch it is capable of; but the same experience tells us, that it requires infinite art and practice to bring the voice to a lower key when it is once raised too high. It ought, therefore, to be a first principle with all public readers and speakers, rather to begin under the common level of their voice than above it. The attention of an audi- tory at the commencement of a lecture or oration, ELOCUTION. 265 makes the softest accents of the speaker audible, at the same time that it affords a happy occasion for introducing a variety of voice, without which every address must soon tire. A repetition of the same subject a thousand times over, is not more tiresome to the understanding, than a monotonous delivery of the most varied subject to the ear. Poets, to produce variety, alter the structure of their verse, and rather hazard uncouthness and discord than sameness. Prose writers change the style, turn, and structure of their periods, and sometimes throw in exclamations, and sometimes interrogations, to rouse and keep alive the attention ; but all this art is entirely thrown away, if the reader does not enter into the spirit of his author, and by a similar kind of genius, render even variety itself more various ; if he does not by an alteration in his voice, manner, tone, gesture, loudness, soft- ness, quickness, slowness, adopt every change of which the subject is susceptible. Every one, therefore, who would acquire variety of tone in public reading or speaking, must avoid as the greatest evil a loud and vociferous beginning ; and for that purpose it would be prudent in a reader or speaker to adapt his voice as if only to be heard by the person who is nearest to him ; if his voice has natural strength, and the subject any thing impas- sioned in it, a higher and louder tone will insensibly steal on him ; and his greatest address must be di- rected to keeping it within bounds. For this pur- pose it will be frequently necessary for him to recall his voice, as it were, from the extremities of his audi- tory, and direct it to those who are nearest to him. This it will be proper to do almost at the beginning of every paragraph in reading, and at the introduc- tion of every part of the subject in discourse. No- thing will so powerfully work on the voice, as sup- posing ourselves conversing at different intervals with different parts of the audience. A celebrated writer on this subject directs a reader 266 ELEMENTS OF or speaker, upon his first addressing an auditory, to fix his eyes upon that part of them from which he is the farthest, and to pitch his voice so as to reach them. This, I fear, would be attended with very ill consequences if the assembly were very large ; as a speaker would be strongly tempted to raise his voice, as well as increase its force ; and by this means begin in a key much too high for the generality of his audi- tory, or for his own powders to continue it. The safest rule, therefore, is certainly to begin, as it were, with those of the assembly that are nearest to us ; and if the voice be but articulate, however low the key may be, it will still be audible ; and those who have a suf- ficient strength of voice for a public auditory, find it so much more difficult to bring down than raise the pitch, that they will not wonder I employ my chief care to guard against an error by far the most com- mon, as well as the most dangerous. Much, undoubtedly, will depend on the size and structure of the place we speak in : some are so im- mensely large, as many of our churches and cathe- drals, that the voice is nearly as much dissipated as in the open air, and often with the additional incon-, venience of a thousand confused echos and re-echos. Here a loud a vociferous speaker will render him- self unintelligible in proportion to his exertion of voice : as departing and commencing sounds will en- counter each other, and defeat every intention of distinctness and harmony. Nothing but good articulation will make a speaker audible in this situation, and a judicious attention to that tone of voice which is most suitable to the size and imperfections of the place. If the place we speak in be but small, it will scarcely be necessary to observe that the loudness of the voice should be in proportion. Those who have not ears sufficiently de- licate to discern the true quantity of sound necessary to fill the place they speak in, ought to take every possible method to acquire so essential a qualification. ELOCUTION. 267 A knowledge of music, many trials of different de- grees of loudness, and the friendly criticism of good judges, may do much towards acquiring this accom- plishment ; and it must ever be remembered, that high and low are essentially distinct from loud and soft ; as we may with the utmost propriety be at the highest note of our voice in the smallest room, pro- vided we are not too loud, and use the lowest part of our voice in the largest, provided we are not too soft and indistinct to be heard. In order to reduce the foregoing observations to practice, it may not be unprofitable to attend to the following rules. Rule I. To gain a habit of lowering the voice, it will be necessary to drop the voice to a lower key upon the end of one sentence, and to commence the next sentence in the same low key with which we concluded the former ; for this purpose, it will be ne- cessary to select sentences where this pronunciation is eligible, and practise upon them. EXAMPLES. Our sight is the most perfect and most delightful of all our senses. It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the longest in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments. The sense of feeling can indeed give us a notion of extension, shape, and all other ideas that enter at the eye, except colours ; but at the same time it is very much straitened and confined in its operations to the number, bulk, and distance of its particular objects. Sped. No. 411. I shall first consider those pleasures of the imagination which arise from the actual view and survey of outward objects ; and these, I think, ail proceed from the sight of what is great, uncommon, or beautiful. There may, indeed, be something so terrible or offensive, that the horror or loathsomeness of the object may overhear the plea- sure which results from its greatness, novelty, or beauty ; but still there will be such a mixture of delight in the very disgust it gives us, as any of these three qualifications are most conspicuous and prevailing. Sped. No. 412. 268 ELEMENTS OF The sense of feeling, in the first example, and there may, indeed, in the second, may very properly com- mence in a low tone of voice, as this tone is generally suitable to the concession contained in each of the sentences. Similes in poetry form proper examples for gaining a habit of lowering the voice. EXAMPLE. He above the rest, In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tow'r. His form had not yet lost All its original brightness, nor appear'd Less than archangel ruin'd and th' excess Of glory obscur'd ; as when the sun new ris'n Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams : or from behind the moon In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs. Milton's Paradise Lost. In this example are two similes in succession ; and it may be observed, that in order to pronounce them properly, the voice ought to be twice lowered ; that is, on the first simile at as when the sun, and then at or from behind the moon, which last simile must be in a lower tone of voice than the former, and both nearly in a monotone. Rule II. This lowering of the voice will be greatly facilitated if we begin the words we wish to lower the voice upon, in a monotone, or sameness of sound, ap- proaching to that produced by repeatedly striking the same key of a harpsichord. Thus in the following passage from Dr. Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination : With what attractive charms this goodly frame Of nature, touches the consenting hearts Of mortal men ; and what the pleasing stores Which beauteous imitation thence derives, To deck the poet's or the painter's toil, 51 My verse unfolds. Attend, ye gentle pow'rs Of musical delight ! and while I sing ELOCUTION. 269 Your gifts, your honours, dance around my strain. Thou, smiling queen of every tuneful breast, Indulgent Fancy j from the fruitful banks Of Avon, whence thy rosy fingers cull Fresh flow'rs and dews, to sprinkle on the turf Where Shakspeare lies, be present ; and with thee Let fiction come upon her vagrant wing, Wafting ten thousand colours through the air j And by the glances of her magic eye, Combining each in endless fairy forms Her wild creation. Goddess of the lyre, Which rules the accents of the moving sphere, Wilt thou, eternal Harmony, descend, And join this festive train ? for with thee comes The guide, the guardian of their lovely sports, Majestic Truth ; and where Truth deigns to come Her sister Liberty will not be far. Be present all ye Genii, who conduct The wond'ring footsteps of the youthful bard, New to your springs and shades j who touch his ear With finer sounds ; who heighten to his eye The blooms of nature, and before him turn The gayest, happiest, attitudes of things. Pleasures of Imagination, Book I. This exordium consists of an invocation of several poetic powers, each of which ought to be addressed in a manner somewhat different ; but none of them admits of a difference sufficient to give a variety to a long paragraph, except that of eternal Harmony : and this from its nature requires a solemn monotone in a much lower key than the rest : if therefore we pro- nounce the words, Goddess of the lyre, Which rules the accents,of the moving sphere : if, I say, we pronounce these words in a low mono- tone, without any inflexion of voice on them ; we shall throw a great variety into the whole invocation, and give it at the same time that expression which the importance of the subject demands. Rule III. As few voices are perfect ; those which have a good bottom often wanting a top, and in- versely ; care should be taken to improve by practice 270 ELEMENTS OF that part of the voice which is most deficient ; for instance ; if we want to gain a bottom, we ought to practice speeches which require exertion, a little be- low the common pitch; when we can do this with ease, we may practise them on a little lower note, and so on till we are as low as we desire ; for this purpose, it will be necessary to repeat such passages as require a full audible tone of voice in a low key : of this kind is the speech of king John to Hubert, where he takes him aside, and tempts him to undertake the death of prince Arthur : Come hither, Hubert. O, my gentle Hubert, We owe thee much ; within this wall of flesh There is a soul counts thee her creditor, And with advantage means to pay thy love. « And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished. Give me thy hand, I had a thing to say — But I will fit it with some better time. By heav'n, Huberr, I 'm almost asham'd To say what good respect I have of thee. Hub. I am much beholden to your majesty. K. John. Good friend., thou hast no cause to say so yet, But thou shalt have — and creep time ne'er so slow, Yet it shall come for me to do thee good. I had a thing to say, — but let it go ; The sun is in the heav'n, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world, Is all too wanton and too full of gaudes To give me audience. If the midnight bell Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth Sound one unto the drowsy race of night ; If this same were a church-yard where we stand, And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs j Or if that thou could'st see me without eyes, Hear we without thine ears, and make reply Without a tongue, using conceit alone, Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words, Then in despite of broad-eyed watchful day I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts : But, ah ! I will not — yet I love thee well, And by my troth, I think thou lov'dst me well. Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, Though that my death were adjunct to my act, By heav'n I 'd do 't, ELOCUTION. 271 K. John. Do I not know thou would'st ? Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye On that young boy : I'll tell thee what, my friend, He is a very serpent in ray way, And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, He lies before me. Do'st thou understand me ? Thou art his keeper. Hub. And I'll keep him so, That he shall not offend your majesty. K. John. Death. Hub. My lord ? K. John. A grave. Hub. He shall not live. K. John. Enough. I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee j Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee : Remember. Shahspeare's King John, Act iii. Scene 5. I have quoted so much of this fine passage, because I think almost every part of it affords an opportunity of practising to speak with force and energy upon a lower tone of the voice ; for the whole scene may be considered as only an earnest whisper ; but as this whisper must be heard by a whole audience, it is ne- cessary, while we lower the pitch, to add to the force of the voice ; this, however, is no easy operation, and none but good readers and consummate actors, can do it perfectly. It is no very difficult matter to be loud in a high tone of voice ; but to be loud and for- cible in a low tone, requires great practice and ma- nagement; this, however, may be facilitated by pro- nouncing forcibly at first in a low monotone ; a mo- notone, though in a low key, and without force, is much more sonorous and audible than when the voice slides up and down at almost every word, as it must do to be various. This tone is adopted by actors when they repeat passages aside. They are to give the idea of speaking to themselves, in such a manner as not to be heard by the person with them on the stage, and yet must necessarily be heard by the whole theatre. The monotone in a low key answers both these purposes. It conveys the idea of being inau- dible to the actors with them in the scene, by being 272 ELEMENTS OF in a lower tone than that used in the dialogue ; and by being in a monotone becomes audible to the whole house. The monotone, therefore, becomes an excellent vehicle for such passages as require force and audi- bility in a low tone, and in the hands of a judicious reader or speaker is a perpetual source of variety. Rule IV. When we would strengthen the voice in a higher note, it will be necessary to practise such passages as require a high tone of voice ; and if we find the voice grow thin, or approach to a squeak upon the high note, it will be proper to swell the voice a little below this high note, and to give it force and audibility by throwing it into a sameness of tone approaching the monotone. A speech of Titus Quintius to the Roman people, ironically encourag- ing them to the greatest excesses^ is a good praxis for the higher tone of voice. When you are to contend with us, you can seize theAventile hill, you can possess yourselves of the Mons Sacer, the enemy is at our gates, the iEsquiline is near being taken, and nobody stirs to hinder it. But against us you are valiant, against us you can arm with all diligence. Come on, then, besiege the Senate-house, make a camp of the forum, fill the jails with our chief nobles, and when you have achieved these glorious exploits, then at the least, sally out at the iEsquiline gate with the same fierce spirits against the enemy. Does your resolution fail you for this ? Go then, and behold from our walls, your lands ravaged, your houses plundered and in flames, the whole country laid waste with fire and sword. Have you any thing here to repair these damages ? Will the tribunes^ make up your losses to you ? They will give you words as many as you please ; bring impeachments in abundance against the prime men of the state ; heap laws upon laws; assemblies you shall have without endj but will any of you return the richer from these assemblies ? Extinguish, O Romans ! these fatal divisions: generously break this cursed en- chantment, which keeps you buried in a scandalous inaction. — Open your eyes, and consider the management of those ambitious men, who, to make themselves powerful in their party, study nothing but how they may foment divisions in the commonwealth. There are few voices so strong in the upper notes as to be able to pronounce this speech with the spirit it demands ; care must be taken therefore, particularly in the ironical parts, to keep the voice from going too ELOCUTION. 273 high for which purpose it ought to approach to a monotone in the high notes required upon the words — against us you are valiant — against us you can arm with all diligence — and particularly upon the questions — Does your resolution fail you for this ? Have you any thing here to repair these damages ? Will the tribunes make up your losses to you ? And the same conduct of the voice must be observed upon the four succeeding ironical members. But no exercise will be so proper to inure the voice to high notes, as frequently to pronounce a succession of questions, which require the rising inflexion of voice at the end. Such is that instance of a succes- sion of questions ending with the rising inflexion, in the Oration of Demosthenes on the Crown. See p. 140. What was the part of a faithful citizen ? Of a prudent, an active and honest minister ? Was he not to secure Eubcea, as our defence against all attacks by sea ? Was he not to make Boeotia our bar- rier on the midland side ? The cities bordering on Peloponnesus, our bulwark on that quarter ? Was he not jto attend with due precaution to the importation of corn, that this trade might be pro- tected through all its progress up to our own harbours ? Was he not to cover those districts, which we commanded by seasonable de- tachments, as the Proconesus, the Chersonesus, and Tenedos ? To exert himself in the assembly for this purpose ? While with equal zeal he laboured to gain others to our interest and alliance, as Byzantium, Abydus, and Eubcea ? Was he not to cut off the best, and most important resources of our enemies, and to supply those in which our country was defective ? — And all this you gained by my counsels and my administration. Lelands Demosthenes on the Crown, It will naturally occur to every judicious reader, that this series of questions ought to rise gradually in force as they proceed, and therefore it will be ne- cessary to keep the voice under at the beginning ; to which this observation may be added, that as the rising inflexion ought to be adopted on each ques- tion, the voice will be very apt to get too high near T 274 ELEMENTS OF the end ; for which purpose it will be necessary to swell the voice a little below its highest pitch ; and if we cannot rise with ease and clearness on every particular to the last, we ought to augment the force on each, that the whole may form a species of climax. Rule V. When we would strengthen the voice in the middle tone, it will be necessary to exercise the voice on very passionate speeches by pronouncing them in a loud tone, without suffering the voice to rise with the force, but preserving all the energy and loudness we are able, in the middle tone of voice. The challenge of Macbeth to Banquo's ghost, is a proper passage for this exercise of the middle tone of voice. What man dare I dare : Approach thou, like the rugged Russian bear, The arm'd rhinoceros or Hyrcanian tiger ; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble. Be alive again, And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; If trembling I inhibit, then protest me The baby of a girl. Hence horrible shadow ! Unreal mock'ry, hence ! Rule VI. When we have exerted the voice to the highest pitch, it will be necessary to bring it down to a lower, by beginning the succeeding sentence in a lower tone of voice, if the nature of the sentence will permit ; and if we are speaking extempore, it will be proper to form the sentence in such manner as to make it naturally require a lower tone. A good praxis for recovering the voice when it is carried to its utmost pitch is the furious resentment and indig- nation of Posthumus against himself for giving credit to the infidelity of Imogen. Jachimo. This Posthumus — methinks I see him now — ELOCUTION. %75 Pvst. Aye, so thou dost, Italian fiend ! ah me, most credulous fool, Egregious murderer, thief, any thing, That 's due to all the villains past, in being,, To come — oh give me cord, or knife, or poison, Some upright justicer ! Thou king, send out For torturers injenious ; it is I That all th' abhorred things o' th' earth amend By being worse than they. I am Posthumous That kill'd thy daughter - } villain-iike I lie, That caus'd a lesser villain than myself, A sacrilegious thief to do 't. The temple Of virtue was she, yea, and she herself — Spit and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set The dogs o' th' street to bait me : every villain Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus, and Be villany less than 'twas. Oh ! Imogen, My queen, my life, my wife ! Oh, Imogen, Imogen ! Imogen ! In this example we find the fury of the passion very apt to carry the voice too high,, but the poet has very judiciously thrown in breaks and alterations in the passion, which give the speaker an opportunity of lowering and altering his voice. Thus the voice is at its highest pitch of rage at to come, when the break and different shade of the same passion, at O give me cord, &c. affords an opportunity for lowering the voice by means of a mixture of entreaty. The voice is at its utmost extent of height at MlVd thy daughter ; as in this passage he declares openly his guilt, in order to provoke his punishment ; but the next clause, villain-like, I lie, gives a different shade of force to the voice by a mixture of remorse. The next sentence — - The temple of virtue, &c. has a regret and tenderness in it that affords an alteration of voice ; but as this alteration slides into extreme grief, in which the voice is very apt to go too high, the next sentence — Spit and throw stones, &c. — by the deep hatred it falls into, gives the speaker an opportunity of lowering and recovering the force of his voice, in order to conclude with that force and tenderness which the latter part of the speech necessarily t2 276 ELEMENTS OF requires. Thus, by properly distinguishing the dif- ferent shades and mixtures of the passions, we not only produce variety, but afford the voice such resources of energy, as can alone support it in the pronunciation. Rule VII. When we are speaking extempore, and have carried the voice to its utmost extent in a high key, in order to bring it down to a lower, we ought, if possible, to adopt some passion which requires a low key ; such as shame, hatred, admonition, &c. as in the spirited speech of T. Quintius to the Roman people quoted under Rule IV. The same may be observed of the speech of the angel in Milton to Satan. Think we such toils, such cares disturb the peace Of heav'rTs blest habitants ? — alike 1 scorn Thy person, and imposture. „ Milton. The former part of this speech raises the voice to the highest pitch, and is finely relieved and con- trasted by the low tone which scorn requires in the conclusion, ELOCUTION, 277 Gesture. Gesture considered as a just and elegant adapta- tion of every part of the body to the nature and im- port of the subject we are pronouncing, has always been considered as one of the most essential parts of oratory. Its power, as Cicero observes^ is much greater than that of words. It is the language of nature in the strictest sense, and makes its way to the heart, without the utterance of a single sound. Ancient and modern orators are full of the power of action ; and action, as with the illustrious Grecian orator, seems to form the beginning, the middle, and end of oratory. Such, however, is the force of custom, that though we all confess the power and necessity of this branch of public speaking, we find few, in our own country at least, that are hardy enough to put it in practice. The most accomplished speakers in the British senate are very faulty in their use of action, and it is remark- able that those who are excellent in every other part of oratory are very deficient in this. The truth is, though the reason of action in speaking is in the na- ture of things, the difficulty of acquiring the other requisites of an orator, and the still greater difficulty of attaining excellence in action (which after all our pains is less esteemed than excellences of another kind) ; these, I say, seem to be the reasons why action is so little cultivated among us : to this we may add, that so different are national tastes in this particular, that hardly any two people agree in the just propor- tion of this so celebrated quality of an orator. Per- haps the finished action of a Cicero or a Demosthenes would scarcely be borne in our times, though accom- #7& ELEMENTS OF panied with every other excellence. The Italians and French, though generally esteemed better public speakers than the English, appear to us to over- charge their oratory with action ; and some of their finest strokes of action would, perhaps, excite our laughter. The oratory, therefore, of the Greeks and Romans in this point, is as ill suited to a British audi- tor, as the accent and quantity of the ancients is to the English language. The common feelings of nature, with the signs that express them, undergo a kind of modification, which is suitable to the taste and genius of every nation ; and it is this national taste which must necessarily be the vehicle of every- thing we convey agreeably to the public we belong to. Whether the action of the ancients was exces- sive, or whether that of the English be not too scanty, is not the question : those who would succeed as English orators must speak to English taste ; as a general must learn the modern exercise of arms to command modern armies, and not the discipline and weapons of the ancients. But though the oratory of the moderns does not require all those various evolutions of gesture which was almost indispensable in the ancients, yet a cer- tain degree of it must necessarily enter into the com- position of every good speaker and reader. To be perfectly motionless while we are pronouncing words which require force and energy, is not only depriving them of their necessary support, but rendering them unnatural and ridiculous. A very vehement address, pronounced without any motion but that of the lips and tongue, would be a burlesque upon the meaning, and produce laughter j nay, so unnatural is this total absence of gesticulation, that it is not very easy to speak in this manner. As some action, therefore, must necessarily accom- pany our words, it is of the utmost consequence, that this be such as is suitable and natural. No matter how little, if it be but akin to the words and passion ; for ELOCUTION. %79 if foreign to them, it counteracts and destroys the very intention of delivery. The voice and gesture may be said to be tuned to each other : and if they are in a different key, as it may be called, discord must inevitably be the consequence. An awkward action, and such as is unsuitable to the words and passion, is the body out of tune, and gives the eye as much pain as discord does the ear, In order therefore to gain a just idea of suitable action and expression, it will be necessary to observe that every passion, emotion, and sentiment, has a par- ticular attitude of the body, cast of the eye, and tone of the voice, that particularly belongs to that passion, emotion, or sentiment : these should be carefully studied, and practised before a glass when we are alone ; and before a few friends, whose candour and judgment we can rely on. Some good piece of com- position should then be selected, and every period or sentence be marked with that passion, emotion, or sentiment, indicated by the words, that the eye in reading may be reminded of the passion or sentiment to be assumed. These passions and emotions we should express with the utmost force and energy we are able, when we are alone, that we may wear our- selves into the habits of assuming them easily in pub- lic. This forcible practice in private, will have the same effect on our public delivery, that dancing a minuet has on our general air and deportment. What Pope says of writing is perfectly applicable to action in oratory. True ease in action comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance. To descend, however, to a few of those particulars, to which it seems the most necessary to attend ; it may not be improper to take notice, that in read- ing much less action is required than in speaking. When we read to a few persons only in private, it 280 ELEMENTS OF may not be useless to observe, that we should accuse torn ourselves to read standing; that the book should be held in the left hand ; that we should take our eyes as often as possible from the book, and direct them to those that hear us. The three or four last words, at least of every paragraph, or branch of a subject, should be pronounced with the eye pointed to one of the auditors. When any thing sublime, lofty, or heavenly, is expressed, the eye and the right hand may be very properly elevated ;, and w T hen any thing low, inferior, or grovelling is referred to, the eye and hand may be directed downwards ; when any thing distant or extensive is mentioned, the hand may naturally describe the distance or extent ; and when conscious virtue, or any heartfelt emotion, or tender sentiment occurs, we may as naturally clap the right hand on the breast exactly over her heart. In speaking extempore, we should be sparing of the use of the left hand, which may not ungracefully hang down by the side, and be suffered to receive that small degree of motion which will necessarily be com- municated to it by the action of the right hand. The right hand, when in action, ought to rise extending from the side, that is, in a direction from left to right; and then be propelled forwards, with the fingers open, and easily and differently curved : the arm should move chiefly from the elbow, the hand seldom be raised higher than the shoulder, and when it has described its object, or enforced its emphasis, ought to drop lifeless down to the side, ready to commence action afresh. The utmost care must be taken to keep the elbow from inclining to the body, and to let the arms, when not hanging at rest by the side, approach to the action we call a-kimbow ; we must be cautious too, in all action but such as describes extent or circumference, to keep the hand, or lower part of the arm, from cutting the perpendicular line that divides the body into right and left ; but above all, we must be careful to let the stroke of the hand JELOCUflON. 281 which marks force, or emphasis, keep exact time with the force of pronunciation ; that is, the hand must go down upon the emphatical word, and no other: thus in the execration of Brutus, in Julius Caesar: When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous j To lock such rascal-counters from his friends. Be ready gods with all your thunderbolts — Dash him in pieces. Here the action of the arm which enforces the em- phasis ought to be so directed, that the stroke of the hand may be given exactly on the word dash ; this will give a concomitant action to the organs of pro- nunciation, and by this means the whole expression will be greatly augmented. This action may be called beating time to the emphasis, and is as neces- sary in forcible and harmonious speaking, as the agreement between the motion of the feet, and the music in dancing.* These are some of the simplest and most necessary directions, and such as may be followed with the greatest safety : observing the action of the best readers and speakers may, with some cautions, be recommended to youth; but cannot with the same safety be proposed to those who, by long practice, are confirmed in habits of their own ; it may, instead of a modest and negative kind of awkwardness, which is scarcely offensive, substitute a real and disgusting kind of mimickry ; and this, by every person of the least taste, will be looked upon as a bad exchange. To the generality of readers and speakers, therefore., it may be proposed to make use of no more action than they can help. If they are really in earnest, as * For a simple outline of action, as it may be called, it is presumed the Elements of Gesture, prefixed to the Academic Speaker, wHl be found highly useful ; as the directions there given are illustrated by plates describing the several positions of the body, legs, arms, and hands, in a graceful and forcible delivery. 282 ELEMENTS OF they ought to be, some gesticulation will naturally break out ; and if it be kept within bounds, it will always be tolerable. A man's own feelings will often tell him how far he may venture with safety; for in that situation which he finds the easiest to himself, he will appear most agreeable to his auditory. Such a sympathy do we find between speaker and hearer, that the one cannot be in an awkward situation without communicating a feeling of it to the other. Thus have we endeavoured to delineate those out- lines, which nothing but good sense and taste will fill up. The more distinctly these lines are marked, the easier will be the finishing; and if, instead of leaving so much to taste, as is generally done, we were to push as far as possible our inquiries into those princi- ples of truth and beauty, in delivery, which are im- mutable and eternal ; if, I say, we were to mark care- fully the seemingly infinite variety of voice and gesture in speaking and reading, and compare this variety with the various senses and passions of which they are expressive ; from the simplicity of nature in her other operations, we have reason to hope, that they might be so classed and arranged, as to be of much easier attainment, and productive of much certainty and improvement, in the very difficult acquisition of a just and agreeable delivery. ELOCUTION. 283 The Passions. It now remains to say something of those tones which mark the passions and emotions of the speaker. These are entirely independent on the modulation of the voice, though often confounded with it : for mo- dulation relates only to speaking either loudly or softly, in a high or low key; while the tones of the passions or emotions mean only that quality of sound that indicates the feelings of the speaker, without any reference to the pitch or loudness of his voice ; and it is in being easily susceptible of every passion and emotion that presents itself, and being able to express them with that peculiar quality of sound which belongs to them, that the great art of reading and speaking consists. When we speak our own words, and are really impassioned by the occasion of speaking, the passion or emotion precedes the words, and adopts such tones as are suitable to the passion we feel ; but when we read or repeat from memory, the passion is to be taken up as the words occur : and in doing this well, the whole difficulty of reading or repeating from memory lies. But it will be demanded, how are we to acquire that peculiar quality of sound that indicates the pas- sion we wish to express ? The answer is easy : by feeling the passion which expresses itself by that pe- culiar quality of sound. But the question will return, how are we to acquire a feeling of the passion ? The answer to this question is rather discouraging, as it will advise those who have not the power of impassioning themselves upon reading or expressing some very pa- thetic passage, to turn their studies to some other 284 ELEMENTS OF department of learning, where nature may have been more favourable to their wishes. But is there no method of assisting us in acquiring the tone of the passion we want to express ; no method of exciting the passion in ourselves when we wish to express it to others ? The advice of Quintilian and Cicero on this occasion, is, to represent to our imagination, in the most lively manner possible, all the most striking cir- cumstances of the transaction we describe, or of the passion we wish to feel. " Thus," says (Quintilian, " if I complain of the fate of a man who has been " assassinated, may I not paint in my mind a lively " picture of all that has probably happened on the " occasion ? Shall not the assassin appear to rush " forth suddenly from his lurking place ? Shall not "the other appear seized with horrors? Shall he " not cry out, beg his life, or fly to save it ? Shall " not I see the assassin deal the deadly blow, and " the defenceless wretch falling dead at his feet? " Shall not I figure to my mind, and by a lively im- " pression, the blood gushing from his wounds, his " ghastly face, his groans, and the last gasp he " fetches ?" This must be allowed to be a very natural method of exciting an emotion in the mind ; but still the woes of others, whether real or fictitious, will often make but a weak impression on our own mind, and will fail of affecting uswith a sufficient force to excite the same emotions in the minds of our hearers. In this exigence, it may not, perhaps, be unprofitable, to call to our assistance the device of the ancient Grecian actor Polus ; who, when he had the part of Electra to perform, and was to represent that princess weep- ing over the ashes of her brother Orestes, ordered the urn which contained the ashes of his dear and only son to be brought upon the stage, and by this means . excited in himself the pitch of grief with which he wished to affect his audience. Calling to mind, therefore, such passages of our ELOCUTION 285 own life as are similar to those we read or speak of, will, if I am not mistaken, considerably assist us in gaining that fervor and warmth of expression, which, by a certain sympathy, is sure to affect those who hear us. But our natural feelings are not always to be com- manded ; and, when they are, stand in need of the regulation and embellishment of art ; it is the busi- ness, therefore, of every reader and speaker in public, to acquire such tones and gestures as nature gives to the passions ; that he may be able to produce the sem- blance of them when he is not actually impassioned. The feelings of men, when unpremeditatedly impas- sioned, will do wonders. We seldom hear a person express love, rage, or pity, when these passions are produced by a powerful object on the spot, without feeling in ourselves the working of the passions thus instantaneously produced. Here the reality of the situation contributes greatly to our own feelings, as well as to the feelings of the speaker. The speech of a malefactor seldom fails to move us powerfully, how- ever wretchedly delivered ; and a person really in the agonies of passion moves us irresistibly. But these are situations very different from the reader and speaker in public. The reader has always a fictitious or absent passion to exhibit ; and the public speaker must always produce his passion at a certain time and place, and in a certain order; and in this situation it is generally supposed by our best critics, that an ex- cess of feeling, such as we have when unpremeditat- edly actuated by strong passions, would render us incapable of expressing ourselves, so as properly to affect others. I have myself seen Powel, in the cha- racter of George Barnwell, so overwhelmed with grief in that pathetic address, Be warn'd, ye youths, who see my sad despair, &e. as to be incapable of expressing himself in the most pathetic manner to the audience. However this be. 286 ELEMENTS OP certain it is, we ought to study the effects and ap- pearances of the passions, that we may be able to exhibit them when we are not really impassioned : and, when we are, to give passion its most agreeable expression. Mr. Burke has a very ingenious thought on this subject in his Origin of our Ideas of the Sub- lime and Beautiful. He observes that there is such a connexion between the internal feeling of a passion, and the external expression of it, that we cannot put ourselves in the posture or attitude of any passion, without communicating a certain degree of the pas- sion itself to the mind. The same may be observed of the tone of voice which is peculiar to each passion: each passion produces an agitation of the body, which is accompanied by a correspondent agitation of the mind : certain sounds naturally produce cer- tain bodily agitations, similar to those produced by the passions ; and hence music has power over the mind, and can dispose it alternately to joy, or sor- row : to pity, or revenge. When the voice, therefore, assumes that tone which a musician would produce, in order to express certain passions or sentiments in a song, — the speaker, like a performer on a musical instrument, is wrought upon by the sound he creates; and, though active at the beginning, at length be- comes passive, by the sound of his own voice on himself. Hence jt is, that though we frequently begin to read or speak, without feeling any of the passion we wish to express, we often end in full possession of it. This may serve to show the neces- sity of studying and imitating those tones, looks, and gestures, that accompany the passions, that we may dispose ourselves to feel them mechanically, and im- prove our expression of them when we feel them spontaneously; for by the imitation of the passion, we meet it, as it were, half way. A passion well described disposes us to the feeling of it, and greatly assists us in expressing it with force and propriety ; this shows the necessity of a good ELOCUTION. 287 description of the passions, and how much the art of speaking depends upon it. Those who feel the pas- sions the most powerfully, and unite with this feeling a power of describing their feelings, are those from whom we may expect the best pictures of what passes in the soul. For this reason, good poets are generally the best painters of the passions ; and for this reason too, we find the greatest orators have been most conversant with the best poets ; for though it is not the business of the poet, like that of the philosopher, to enter into a logical definition of the origin, extent, and various relations of the passion he produces, he must, however, feel it strongly, and express it exactly as we see it in nature, or it will fail in its effect on the soul ; which, in this case, judges by a sort of instinct. This, it is presumed, will be a sufficient reason for drawing the examples that are given of the passions chiefly from the poets ; and of these, chiefly those in the dramatic line; as it is in these that the passions are generally the most deli- cately and forcibly touched. Aaron Hill, in his Essay on the Art of Acting, has made a bold attempt at such a description of the pas- sions as may enable an actor to adopt them mecha- nically, by showing, that all the passions require either a braced or relaxed state of the sinews, and a peculiar cast of the eye. This system he has sup- ported with much ingenuity ; but it were to be wished he had lived to give his original idea the finishing he intended, and to have seen it combated by opposite opinions, that he might have removed several objections that lie against it, and render the truth of it doubtful. It must be owned, however, that this writer deserves great praise for the mere attempt he has made to form a new system, which, under some restrictions, may not be without its use, It is certain, that all the passions, when violent, brace the sinews ; grief, which, when moderate, may be 288 ELEMENTS OF said to melt or relax the frame, when accompanied by anguish and bitter complainings, becomes active and bracing.* Pity seems never to rise to a suffix cient degree of sorrow to brace the sinews ; and anger, even the slightest degree, seems to give a kind of tension to the voice and limbs. Thus Shak- speare, as quoted by this writer, has given us an admirable picture of this passion in its violence, and has made this violent tension of the sinews a con~ siderable part of its composition : Now imitate the action of the tiger ! Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood ! Lend fierce and dreadful aspect to the eye ; Set the teeth close, and stretch the nostril wide ; Hold hard the breath, and bend up ev'ry spirit To its full height. — — To this may be added that admirable picture of vio- lent anger which Shakspeare puts in the mouth of Suffolk, in the Second Part of Henry VI. Would curses kill, as does the mandrake's groan, I would invent as bitter searching terms, As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear, Delivered strongly through my fixed teeth, With full as many signs of deadly hate As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave. My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words, Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint, Mine hair be fixt an end like one distract, Aye, ev'ry joint should seem to curse and ban : And, even now my burden'd heart would break, Should I not curse them. * See Dr. Johnson's excellent remark upon the" speech of Lady Constance in King John. Act iii. sc. 1 , ELOCUTiOxV, 289 Who can read these admirable descriptions of anger without finding his whole frame braced, and his mind strongly tinctured with the passion delineated ! How much is it to be regretted that so great a master of the passions as Shakspeare, has not left us a descrip- tion similar to this of every emotion of the soul ! But though he has not described every other passion like this, he has placed them all in such marking points of view, as enables us to see the workings of the hu- man heart from his writings, in a clearer and more affecting way than in any other of our poets ; and ? perhaps, the best description that could be given us of the passions in any language, may be extracted from the epithets he has made use of. But to return to the system : Hill defines scorn to be negligent anger, and adds, " it is expressed by the languid muscles, " with a smile upon the eye in the light species, or a " frown to hit the serious." The reason he gives for this expression is, " because scorn insinuates, by a " voluntary slackness, or disarming of the nerves, a '* known or a concluded absence of all power in the " insulted object, even to make defence seem ne- "cessary." This seems a very accurate picture of the passion, and the slackness of the nerves appears necessarily to enter into the proper method of ex- pressing it. But what are we to think of his defini- tion of joy ? i( Joy," says he, " is pride possessed of " triumph." No author I have ever yet met with, has supposed pride to be a necessary part of the composition of joy; though a degree of joy may form part of the composition of pride. Pity, he de- fines to be active grief for another's afflictions ; but this definition seems not to include the most lead- ing trait of pity, which is, benevolence and love ; and though pity is always accompanied with a degree of sorrow which often excites us to assist those we pity, yet pity is often bestowed on objects we neither can nor endeavour to assist. The poets have always strongly marked this alliance between u 290 ELEMENTS OF pity and love, and with great propriety. When Blandford tells Oroonoko he pities him, Oroonoko answers, Do pity me j Pity 's akin to love, and every thought Of that soft kind is welcome to my soul. Oroonoko, Act ii. And Dryden, in his Alexander's Feast, after describ- ing the power of Timotheus in exciting his hero's pity for the sad fate of Darius, says, The mighty master smil'd to see, That love was in the next degree ; 'Twas but a kindred sound to move, For pity melts the soul to love. And Julia, in the Two Gentlemen of Verona, says of Proteus, Because he loves her he despises me ; Because I love him, I must pity him. Act iv. Poets, who, where the passions are concerned, are generally the best philosophers, constantly describe love and pity as melting the soul : but how does this agree with the intense muscles with which Hill marks the expression of both these passions ? And how, according to this writer, can the muscles be intense and the eye languid at the same time, as he has de- scribed them in pity ; Or is it conceivable that the eye can express an emotion directly contrary to the feelings of the whole frame ? The distinction, there- fore, of braced and unbraced muscles, upon which his whole system turns, seems at best but a doubtful hypothesis ; and much too hidden and uncertain for the direction of so important a matter as the expres- sion of the passions. In the display of the passions which I have adopted, nothing farther is intended, than such a description of them as may serve to give an idea of their external ELOCUTION. 291 appearance, and such examples of their operations on the soul as may tend to awaken an original feeling of them in the breast of the reader. But it cannot be too carefully noted, that, if possible, the expression of every passion ought to commence within. The imagination ought to be strongly impressed with the idea of an object which naturally excites it, before the body is brought to correspond to it by suitable gesture. This order ought never to be reversed, ex- cept when the mind is too cold and languid to imbibe the passion first ; and in this case, an adaptation of the body to an expression of the passion, will either help to excite the passion we wish to feel, or in some measure supply the absence of it. The two circumstances that most strongly mark the expression of passion, are the tone of the voice and the external appearance of countenance and gesture ; these we shall endeavour to describe, and to each description subjoin an example for practice. In the following explanation and description of the passions, I have been greatly indebted to a very ingenious performance called the Art of Speaking ; this work, though not without its imperfections, is on a plan the most useful that has hitherto been adopted. The passions are first described, then pas- sages are produced which contain the several pas- sions, and these passions are marked in the margin, as they promiscuously occur in the passage. This plan I have adopted, and I hope not without some degree of improvement. For after the description of the several passions, in which I have frequently de- parted widely from this author, I have subjoined examples to each passion and emotion, which contain scarcely any passion or emotion but that described ; and by thus keeping one passion in view at a time, it is presumed the pupil will more easily acquire the imitation of it, than by passing suddenly to those passages where they are scattered promiscuously in small portions. But though this association of the v c 2 292 ELEMENTS OF similar passions has certainly an advantage, the great- est merit is do to the author above mentioned ; who, by the division of a passage into its several passions* and marking these passions as they occur, has done real service to the art of speaking, and rendered his book one of the most useful that has been hitherto published. ELOCUTION. 293 THE PASSIONS. The first picture of the passions (if it may be called so) is TRANQUILLITY. Tranquillity appears by the composure of the coun- tenance and general repose of the whole body, without the exertion of any one muscle. The countenance open, the forehead smooth, the eye-brows arched, the mouth just not shut, and the eyes passing with an easy motion from object to object, but not dwelling long upon any one. To distinguish it, however, from insensibility, it seems necessary to give it that cast of happiness which borders on cheerfulness. CHEERFULNESS. When joy is settled into a habit, or flows from a placid temper of mind, desiring to please and be pleas- ed, it is called gaiety, good- humour, or cheerfulness. Cheerfulness adds a smile to tranquillity, and opens the mouth a little more. Cheerfulness in Retirement. Now my co-mates, and brother's 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 season's difference j as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body Ev'n till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery j these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adversity 5 Which like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in its head -, 294 ELEMENTS OF And this our life, exempt from public haunts, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. Shakspeares As you Like It. MIRTH. When joy arises from ludicrous-and fugitive amuse- ments in which others share with us, it is called mer- riment, or mirth. Mirth, or laughter, opens the mouth horizontally, raises the cheeks high, lessens the aperture of the eyes, and, when violent, shakes and convulses the whole frame, fills the eyes with tears, and occasions holding the sides from the pain the convulsive laugh- ter gives them. Invocation of the Goddess of Mirth. But come, thou goddess, fair and free, Jn heav'n yclep'd Euphrosyne, And by men, heart-easing Mirth 5 Whom lovely Venus at a birth, With two sister graces more, To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore. Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Mirth and youthful Jollity : Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles ; Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles ; Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimples sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides : Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe ; And in thy right hand bring with thee The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty. Milton's Comus. Laughter on seeing a shrewd Buffoon. A fool ! — a fool, I met a fool i' th' forest, A motley fool } — a miserable varlet ! — As I do live by food, I met a fool ; — Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms 5 ELOCUTION. 295 In good set terms, — and yet a motley fool ; Good morrow, fool, quoth I ; No, sir, quoth he, Call me not fool, till heav'n hath sent me fortune 5 And then he drew a diaHrom his poke, And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, It is ten o'clock j Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags j 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven 5 And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe* And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, And thereby hangs a tale. When I did hear The motley fool thus moral on the time, My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, That fools should be so deep contemplative : And I did laugh sans intermission, An hour by his dial. O noble fool I A worthy fool ! Motley's the only wear. Shakspeare's As You Like It. RAILLERY. Raillery without animosity puts on the aspect of cheerfulness ; the countenance smiling, and the tone of voice sprightly. Rallying a Person for being Melancholy. Let me play the fool With mirth and laughter ; so let 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 ? I tell thee what, Anthonio (1 love thee, and it is my love that speaks), There are are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be drest in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, As who should say, I am, sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! I'll tell thee more of this another time j But fish not with this melancholy bait 296 ELEMENTS OF For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion. Come,-good Lorenzo, fare ye well a while, I'll end my exhortation after dinner. SNEER. Sneer is ironical approbation ; where, with a voice and countenance of mirth somewhat exaggerated, we cast the severest censures ; it is hypocritical mirth v and good humour, and differs from the real by the sly, arch, satirical tone of voice, look, and gesture, that accompany it. Scoffing at supposed Cowardice. Satan beheld their plight, And to his mates thus in derision call'd : O friends, why come not on those victors proud ? Ere while they fierce were coming and when we, To entertain them fair with open front And breast (what could we more ?), propounded terms Of composition, straight they chang'd their minds, Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell, As they would dance : yet for a dance they seem'd Somewhat extravagant and wild, perhaps For joy of offer'd peace j but I suppose, If our proposals once again were heard, We should compel them to a quick result. Milton's Paradise Lost. JOY. A pleasing elation of mind, on the actual or assured attainment of good, or deliverance from evil, is called Joy. Joy, when moderate, opens the countenance with smiles, and throws, as it were, a sunshine of delecta- tion over the whole frame : when it is sudden and violent, it expresses itself by clapping the hands, rais- ing the eyes towards heaven, and giving such a spring to the body as to make it attempt to mount up as if s. ELOCUTION. 297 it could fly : when joy is extreme, and goes into transport, rapture, and ecstasy, it has a wildness of look and gesture that borders on folly, madness, and sorrow. Joy expected. Ah ! Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it, than sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter. Shakspeare's Rom. and Jul. Joy approaching to Transport. Oh ! joy, thou welcome stranger, twice three years I have not felt thy vital beam, but now It warms my veins, and plays about my heart 5 A fiery instinct lifts me from the ground, And I could mount. Dr. Young's Revenge. Joy approaching to Folly. Come, let us to the castle ; News, friends ; our wars are done, the Turks are drown'd ; How do our old acquaintance of this isle ? — Honey, you shall be well desir'd in Cyprus j I have found great love among them. O my sweet, I prattle out of fashion, and I dote in mine own comforts. ShaJcspeare's Othello, Joy bordering on Sorrow. O my soul's joy ! If after every tempest comes such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death ! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas Olympus high, and duck again as low As hell 's from heav'n ! If it were now to die, 'Twere now to be most happy, for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate. Ibidem. Joy, or Satisfaction inexpressible. Imoinda, Oh ! this separation, Has made you dearer if it can be so, 298 ELEMENTS OF Than you were ever to me : you appear Like a kind star to my benighted steps, To guide me on my way to happiness -, I cannot miss it now. Governor, friend, You think me mad : but let me bless you all Who any ways have been the instruments Of finding her again. Jmoinda's found ! And every thing that I would have in her. I have a thousand things to ask of her, And she has many more to know of me, But you have made me happier, I confess, Acknowledge it much happier, than I Have words or power to tell you. Captain, you, Ev'n you, who most have wrong'd me, I forgive : I will not say you have betrayed me now, I '11 think you but the minister of fate To bring me to my lov'd Imoinda here. Let the fools Who follow fortune live upon her smiles, All our prosperity is plac'd in love, We have enough of that to make us happy ; This little spot of earth you stand upon, Is more to me than the extended plains Of my great father's kingdom ; here I reign In full delight, in joys to pow'r unknown, Your love my empire, and your heart my throne. Southerns Oroonoko. DELIGHT. Delight is a high degree of satisfaction, or rather is joy moderated, and affording leizure to dwell on the pleasing object ; the tones, looks, and gestures, are the same as those of joy, but less forcible, and more permanent. Thus we gaze upon a pleasing figure or picture, listen to music, and are intent upon delight- ful studies. Delight on viewing a Statue. Leon. See, my lord, Would you not deem it breath'd, and that those veins Did verily bear blood ? Paul. My lord's almost so far transported that He '11 think anon it lives. Leon. O sweet Paulina, ELOCUTION. 299 Make me to think so twenty year9 together, No settled senses of the world can match The pleasure of that madness. Shaksp. Winter's Tale. LOVE. Love is not ill defined by Aaron Hill, when he calls it, desire kept temperate by reverence ; it is, he says, a conscious and triumphant swell of hope, inti- midated by respectful apprehension of offending, where we long to seem agreeable : it is complaint made amiable by gracefulness ; reproach endeared by ten- derness ; and rapture awed by reverence ; the idea then, says he, to be conceived by one who would ex- press love elegantly, is that of joy combined with fear. To this we may add Shakspeare's description of this passion in As You Like It. Phoebe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. Syl. It is to be all made of phantasy ; All made of passion, and all made of wishes j All adoration, duty, and observance -, All humbleness, all patience, and impatience ; All purity, all trial, all observance. As You Like It. If these are just descriptions of love, how unlike toit is that passion which so profanely assumes its name ! Love gives a soft serenity to the countenance, a languishing to the eyes, a sweetness to the voice, and a tenderness to the whole frame ; when entreating, it clasps the hands with intermingled fingers, to the breast ; when declaring, the right hand, open, is pressed with force upon the breast exactly over the heart ; it makes its approaches with the utmost delicacy, and is attended with trembling hesitation and confusion. Love described. Come hither, boy ; if ever thou shalt love, In the sweet pangs of it remember me : 300 . ELEMENTS OF For such as I am, all true lovers are j Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, Save in the constant image of the creature That is belov'd. Shakspeares Twelfth Night. Description of languishing Love, O fellow, come, the song we had last night ; — Mark it, Cesario ; it is old and plain ; The spinsters, and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chaunt it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love Like to old age. Ibid. If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it j that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. — That strain again \ — it had a dying fall ; 0, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour. — Enough, no more, 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before. spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou ! That notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soever, But falls into abatement and low price, Even in a minute \ so full of shapes is fancy, That it alone is high fantastical. Ibid. Delight in Love. What you do Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet, 1 'd have you do it ever : when you sing, I 'd have you buy and sell so j so give alms, Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too : When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that ; move still, still so, And own no other function : each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens. Ibid. Winters Tale. Protestations in Love. O, hear me breathe my life Before this ancient sir, who, it should seem, ELOCUTION. 301 Hath some time lov'd : I take thy hand; this hand, As soft as dove's down, and as white as it j Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow, That 's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er. Shakspeare's Winter's Tale. Love complaining. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now ; I have done penance for contemning love, Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me, With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs : ( r For in revenge of my contempt of love, Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow, O gentle Proteus, love 's a mighty lord, And hath so humbled me, as I confess There is no woe to his correction ; Nor to his service no such joy on earth ; Now no discourse except it be of love ; Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep, Upon the very naked name of love. Shakspeare's Two Gent, of Verona, PITY. Pity is benevolence to the afflicted. It is a mix- ture of love for an object that suffers, and a grief that we are not able to remove those sufferings. It shows itself in a compassionate tenderness of voice ; a feel- ing of pain in the countenance, and a gentle raising and falling of the hands, and eyes, as if mourning over the unhappy object. The mouth is open, the eye-brows are drawn down, and the features con- tracted or drawn together. See p. 289 and 290. Pity in plaintive Narration. As in a theatre the eyes of men, After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious. Even as, or with much more contempt, men's eyes, 302 ELEMENTS OF Did scowl on Richard 5 no man cry'd God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off— His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, — That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him. But heav'n hath a hand in those events ; To whose high will we bound our calm contents. Shakspeares Richard II. Pity for fallen Greatness. Ah, Richard ! with eyes of heavy mind, I see thy glory like a shooting star, Fall to the base earth, from the firmament ! Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest j Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes, And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. Ibid. Pity for a departed Friend. Alas! poor Yorick ! I knew him, Horatio ; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a thou- sand times ; and now how abhorred in my imagination it is j my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that 1 have kissed 1 know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? Your gambols r Your songs ? Your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar ? Not one now to mock your own grinning ? Quite chap-fallen ? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come j make her laugh at that. Ibid. Hamlet. Pity for the Object beloved. Poor lord ! is't I That chase thee from thy country, and expose Those tender limbs of thine to the event Of the none-sparing war ? and is it I That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark Of smoky muskets ? O you leaden messengers, That ride upon the violent speed of fire, Fly with false aim ; move the still-piercing air, That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord ! Whoever shoots at him, I set him there ; ELOCUTION. 303 Whoever charges on his forward breast. I am the caitiff, that do hold him to it ; And, though I kill him not, I am the cause His death was so effected : better 'twere I met the raven lion when he roar'd With sharp constraint of hunger ; better 'twere That all the miseries which nature owes, Were mine at once : No, come thou home, Roussillon, Whence honour but of danger wins a scar : As oft it loses all ; I will be gone : My being here it is, that holds thee hence ; Shall I stay here to do 't ? no, no, although The air of paradise did fan the house, And angels offic'd all ! I will be gone. Shakspeare's All's Well, fyc. Pity for Youth overwatched. Luc. I have slept, my lord, already. Bru. It was well done ; and thou shalt sleep again j I shall not hold thee long : if I do live, I will be good to thee. [Music, and a Song. This is a sleepy tune j O murd'rous slumber ! Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, That plays thee music } — Gentle knave, good night } I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee. If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument j I '11 take it from thee, and, good boy, good night. Ibid. Julius* Caesar.. HOPE. Hope is a mixture of desire and joy, agitating the mind, and anticipating its enjoyment. It erects and brightens the countenance, spreads the arms with the hands open, as to receive the object of its wishes : the voice is plaintive, and inclining to eagerness ; the breath drawn inwards more forcibly than usual, in order to express our desires the more strongly, and our earnest expectation of receiving the object of them. Collins, in his Ode on the Passions, gives us a beautiful picture of Hope : 304 ELEMENTS OF But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair, What was thy delighted measure ? Still it whisper'd promis'd pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail -, Still would her touch the scene prolong, And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She call'd on echo still through all the song - } And where her sweetest theme she chose A soft responsive voice was heard at every close, And Hope, enchanted, smil'd, and wav'd her golden hair, Hope from approaching Nuptials. Now, fair Hippolita, cur nuptial hour Draws on apace 5 four happy days bring in Another moon 5 but oh ! me thinks, how slow This old moon wanes ! she lingers my desires, Like to a step-dame, or a dowager Long-withering out a young man's revenue. Shakspeere's Midsum. Night. Hope of 'good Tidings. O Hope, sweet flatterer, whose delusive touch Sheds on afflicted minds the balm of comfort, Relieves the load of poverty ; sustains The captive bending with the weight of bonds, And smooths the pillow of disease and pain j Send back th' exploring messenger with joy, And let me hail thee from that friendly grove. Glover s Boadicea. HATRED, AVERSION. When by frequent reflection on a disagreeable ob- ject, our disapprobation of it is attended with a disin- clination of mind towards it, it is called hatred. When our hatred and disapprobation of any object are ac- companied with a painful sensation upon the appre- hension of its presence or approach, there follows an inclination to avoid it., called aversion. Hatred or aversion, draws back the body as to avoid the hated object \ the hands at the same time ELOCUTION. 305 thrown out spread, as if to keep it off. The face is turned away from that side towards which the hands are thrown out ; the eyes looking angrily, and ob- liquely, the same way the hands are directed ; the eye-brows are contracted, the upper lip disdainfully drawn up, and the teeth set: the pitch of the voice is low, but loud and harsh ; the tone chiding, unequal, surly, and vehement ; the sentences are short and abrupt. A description and example of this passion from Shakspeare is given in the introduction to these ex- amples, p. 288. To these we shall add a few others: Hatred cursing the Object Hated. Poison be their drink, Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest meat they taste j Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees, Their sweetest prospects murd'ring basilisks, Their softest touch as smart as lizards' stings, Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss, And boding screech-owls make the concert full ; AH the foul terrors of dark-seated hell. Shaks. Hen. VI. This seems imitated by Dr. Young. Why get thee gone, horror and night go with thee. Sisters of Acheron, go hand in hand, Go dance about the bow'r and close them in ; And tell them that I sent you to salute them. Profane the ground, and for th' ambrosial rose And breath of jessamin, let hemlock blacken, And deadly-night-shade poison all the air : For the sweet nightingale may ravens croak, Toads pant, and adders rustle through the leaves : May serpents, winding up the trees, let fall Their hissing necks upon them from above, And mingle kisses —such as I would give them. Revenge. Hatred of a Rival in Glory. He is my bane, I cannot bear him ; One heaven and earth can never hold us both j 306 ELEMENTS OF Still shall we hate, and with defiance deadly Keep rage alive till one be lost for ever ; As if two suns should meet in one meridian, And strive in fiery combat for the passage. Rowe's Tamerlane. ANGER, RAGE, FURY. When hatred and displeasure rise high on a sud- den from an apprehension of injury received, and perturbation of mind in consequence of it, it is called anger ; and rising to a very high degree, and ex- tinguishing humanity, becomes rage and fury. Anger, when violent, expresses itself with rapidity, noise, harshness, and sometimes with interruption and hesitation, as if unable to utter itself with suf- ficient force. It wrinkles the brows, enlarges and heaves the nostrils, strains the muscles, clinches the fist, stamps with the foot, and gives a violent agita- tion to the whole body. The voice assumes the highest tone it can adopt consistently with force and loudness, though sometimes to express anger with uncommon energy, the voice assumes a low and for- cible tone. Narrative in suppressed Anger. My liege, I did deny no prisoners, But I remember when the fight was done, When 1 was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom : and his chin, new reap'd, Show'd like a stubble land at harvest home : He was perfumed like a milliner ; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon, He gave his nose, and took 't away again ; Who, therewith angry when it next came there, Took it in snuff— and still he smil'd and talk'd, And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, He call'd them — untaught knaves, unmannerly, To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse ELOCUTION. 307 Betwixt the wind and his nobility. With many holiday and lady terms, He question'd me, among the rest demanded My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. I then all smarting in my wounds being cold, To be so pestered with a popinjay, Out of my grief and my impatience Answered neglectingly, I know not what, He should or he should not -, for he made me mad, To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And talk so like a talking gentlewoman, Of guns, and drums, and wounds (heav'n save the mark!), And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth, Was parmacity for an inward bruise ; ^» And that it was great pity, so it was, That villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy' d So cowardly ; and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. This bald, unjointed chat of his, my lord, I answer'd indirectly as I said, And I beseech you, let not his report, Come current for an accusation, Betwixt my love and your high majesty. Shakspeare's Henry IV. First Part. Scorn and violent dnger, reproving. Tut! tut! Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle, I am no traitor's uncle ; and that word — grace In an ungracious mouth is but profane ; Why have those banished and forbidden legs Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground ? But more than why — Why have they dar'd to march So many miles upon her peaceful bosom ; Frighting her pale fac'd villages with war, And ostentation of despised arms ? Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence ? Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind, And in my loyal bosom lies his pow'r. Were I but now the lord of such hot youth, As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself Rescu'd the Black Prince, that young Mars of men, From forth the ranks of many thousand French ; Oh, then, how quickly should this arm of mine, Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee, And minister correction to thy fault ! Skaksp. Rich. 11. X 2 308 ELEMENTS OF REVENGE. Revenge is a propensity and endeavour to injure the offender, which is attended with triumph and exultation when the injury is accomplished. It ex- presses itself like malice, but more openly, loudly, and triumphantly. Determined Revenge. I know not : if they speak but truth of her These hands shall tear her ; if they wrong her honour The proudest of them shall well hear of it. Time hath not yet so dry'd this blood of mine, Nor age so eat up my invention, Nor fortune made such havoc of my means, Nor my bad life 'reft me so much of friends, But they shall find awak'd in such a kind, Both strength of limb and policy of mind, Ability of means, and choice of friends To quit me of them thoroughly. Shaksp. Much Ado, 8$c. Eager Revenge. Oh, I could play the woman with mine eyes, And braggart with my tongue ! — But, gentle heaven, Cut short all intermission : front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself; Within my sword's length set him ; if he 'scape, Heaven forgive him too ! Ibid. Macbeth. Unrestrained Fury. Alive ! in triumph ! and Mercutio slain ! Away to heaven respective lenity, And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now ! Now Tybalt take the villain back again That late thou gav'st me ; for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads Staying for thine to keep him company, And thou or I, or both shall follow him. Ibid. Romeo and Juliet. REPROACH. Reproach is settled anger, or hatred chastising the object of dislike, by casting in his teeth the severest ELOCUTION. 309 censures upon his imperfections or misconduct ; the brow is contracted, the lip turned up with scorn, the head shaken, the voice low, as if abhorring, and the whole body expressive of aversion. Reproaching with Stupidity and Inconstancy. Wherefore rejoice } What conquest brings 'he home ? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew ye not Pompey ? Many a time and oft s Have you clim'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome : And when you saw his chariot but appear, ^Have you not made an universal shout, That Tyber trembled underneath his banks, To hear the replication of your sounds, Made in his concave shores ? And do you now put on your best attire ? And do you now cull out a holiday ? And do you now strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ? Be gone 3 Run to your houses ; fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plague, That needs must light on this ingratitude. Shaksp. Jul. Cces Reproaching with want of Friendship. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is n© terror, Cassius, in your threats \ For I am arm'd so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you deny'd me j For I can raise no money by vile means ; No, Cassius, 1 had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, 610 ELEMENTS OF Which you deny'd me : was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so ? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts, Dash him to pieces. Shaksp. Jul. Cas. Reproaching with want of Manliness. O proper stuff ! This is the very painting of your fears ; This is the air-drawn dagger, which you said, Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and starts (Impostors to true fear) would well become A woman's story, at a winter's fire, Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself ! Why do you make such faces ? When all 's done, You look but on a stool| Ibid. Macbeth. Reproaching with want of Courage and Spirit. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward, Thou little valiant, great in villainy ! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side Thou fortune's champion, thou dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety ! thou art perjur'd too And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool; to brag, and stamp and swear, Upon my party ! Thou cold-blooded slave, Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side, Been sworn my soldier? Bidding me depend Upon thy stars, thy fortune and thy strength ? And dost thou now fall over to my foes ? Thou wear a lion's hide ! doff it for shame, And hang a calf's skin on those recreant limbs. Ibid. King John. I EAR AND TERROR. Fear is a mixture of aversion and sorrow, discom- posing and debilitating the mind upon the approach or anticipation of evil. When this is attended with surprise and much discomposure, it grows into terror and consternation. Fear, violent and sudden, opens wide the eyes and mouth, shortens the nose, gives the countenance an ELOCUTION. 311 air of wildness, covers it with deadly paleness, draws back the elbows parallel with the sides, lifts up the open hands, with the ringers spread, to the height of the breast at some distance before it, so as to shield it from the dreadful object. One foot is drawn back behind the other, so that the body seems shrinking from the danger, and putting itself into a posture for flight. The heart beats violently, the breath is quick and short, and the whole body is thrown into a gene- ral tremour. The voice is weak and trembling, the sentences are short, and the meaning confused and incoherent. Terror before dreadful Actions described. Between the acting of a dreadful thing, And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream ; The genius, and the mortal instruments, Are then in council, and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection. Shakspeares Jul. Cess. Terror of Evening and Night described. Light thickens 5 and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood $ Good things of day begin to droop aud drowze ; While night's black agents to their prey do rouze. Thou marvell'st at my words : but hold thee still j Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by ill. Ibid. Macbeth. Fear from a dreadful Object. * Angels and ministers of grace defend us — Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heav'n, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape That I will speak to thee. Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, You heavenly guard ! what would your gracious figure ? Ibid. Hamlet . 312 ELEMENTS OF Horror at a dreadful Apparition. How ill this taper burns ! ha ! who comes here ? I think it is the weakness of my eyes, That shapes this monstrous apparition It comes upon me — Art thou any thing? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to stare, Speak to me what thou art. Shakspeares Jul. Cces, Terror from committing Murder. Mac. 1 've done the deed — didst thou not hear a noise ? Lady. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry. Did you not speak ? Mac. When ? Lady. Now. Mac. As I descended ? Lady. Ay. Mac. Hark ! — who lies i' th' second chamber ? Lady, Donalbain. Mac. This is a sorry sight. Lady. A foolish thought to say a sorry sight. Mac. There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cry'd Murder ! That they did wake each other ; I stood and heard them : But they did say their pray'rs, and address'd them Again to sleep. Ibid. Macbeth. Fear of being discovered in Murder. Alas, I am afraid they have awak'd, And 'tis not done : th' attempt and not the deed Confounds us Hark ! — I laid the daggers ready, He could not miss them. Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done it. Ibid. SORROW. Sorrow is a painful depression of spirit, upon the deprivation of good, or arrival of evil ; when it is silent and thoughtful, it is sadness ; when long in- dulged, so as to prey upon and possess the mind, it becomes habitual, and grows into melancholy \ when tossed by hopes and fears, it is distraction ; when these are swallowed up by it, it settles into despair. ELOCUTION. 31S In moderate sorrow, the countenance is dejected, the eyes are cast downward, the arms hang loose, sometimes a little raised, suddenly to fall again ; the hands open, the fingers spread, and the voice plain- tive, frequently interrupted with sighs. But when this passion is in excess, it distorts the countenance, as if in agonies of pain ; it raises the voice to the loudest complainings, and sometimes even to cries and shrieks ; it wrings the hands, beats the head and breast, tears the hair, and throws itself on the ground: and, like other passions, in excess, seems to border on phrensy. Sadness. Ant. In sooth, I know not why 1 am so sad. It wearies me 5 you say it wearies you : > But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself. Gra. You look not well, signor Antonio ; You have too much respect upon the world : They lose it that do buy it with much care ; Believe me, you are marvellously changed. Ant. 1 hold the world but as the world, Gratiano ; A stage, where every one must play his part j And mine T s a sad one. Shaksp. Mer. of Venice, Deep Melancholy described. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pin'd in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like Patience on a monument Smiling at grief. Ibid. Twelfth Night, t Pensive foreboding* My mother had a maid call'd Barbara, She was in love ; and he she lov'd prov'd mad, And did forsake her : she had a song of willow* An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, 314 ELEMENTS OF And she dy'd singing it : that song to night Will not go from my mind, I have much to do But to go hang my head all o' one side, And sing it like poor Barbara. Shaksp. Othello. Silent Grief. Seems, madam I nay, it is : I know not seems, ""Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath j No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief That can denote me truly : these indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play 3 But I have that within which passeth show, These but the trappings and the suits of woe. Ibid. Hamlet. Inward Sorrow. Say that again. The shadow of my sorrow ! Ha ! let's see : 'Tis very true, my grief lies all within j And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in my tojtured soul ; There lies the substance : and I thank thee, king, For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon, And then be gone, and trouble you no more. Ibid. Rich. II. Sorrow forgetful of its Intentions. Yet one word more 5 — grief boundeth where it falls, Not with the empty hollowness, but weight; I take my leave before I have began, For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done, Commend me to my brother, Edmund York, Lo this is all : — nay yet depart not so ; Though this be all, do not so quickly go, I shall remember more. Bid him — Oh, what ? With all good speed at Plashy visit me. Alack, and what shall good old York there see, But empty lodgings, and unfurnish'd walls, Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones ? And what hear there for welcome but my groans ? ELOCUTION. 315 Therefore commend me -, let him not come there To seek out sorrow that dwells every where 5 Desolate, desolate, will I hence, and die j The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. Shaks. Rich. 11. Grief deploring Loss of Happiness. I had been happy if the general camp, Pioneers and all, had wrong'd my love, So had I nothing known : O now for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind : farewell content, Farewell the plumed troop and the big war That make ambition virtue ! O farewell, Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone. Ibid. Othello. Grief approaching to Madness. Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow. Const. Thou art unholy to belie me so j I am not mad : this hair I tear is mine 3 My name is Constance ; I was Geffrey's wife 3 Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost : I am not mad ; — I would to heaven I were ! For then 'tis like I should forget myself j Oh, if I could, what grief should I forget ! Preach some philosophy to make me mad, And, cardinal, thou shalt be canon iz'd ; For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, My reasonable part produces reason How I may be delivered of these woes, And teaches me to kill or hang myself : If I were mad I should forget my son, Or madly think a babe of clouts were he j I am not mad ; too well, too well I feel The different plague of each calamity, Ibid. King John. Grief mixed with Pity assuming a Smile. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me 5 Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with hi3 form, Then have I reason to be fond of grief. Ibid, 3L6 ELEMENTS OF Grief approaching to Distraction. Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel ; Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, An hour but married, Tybalt murder'd, Doating like me, and like me banished, Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou tear thy hair, And fall upon the ground as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave. Shakspeares Romeo and Juliet. Grief choking Expression. Macd. My children too ! Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all that could be found ! Macd. And I must be from thence ! my wife kill'd too ? Rosse. I've said. Mai. Be comforted. Let 's make us med'cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief. Macd. He has no children ; What, all my pretty ones ? Did you say all ? What, all ? Mai. Endure it like a man. Macd. I shall. But I must also feel it as a man. I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me : did heav'n look on, And would not take their part ? sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee ! naught that I am ! Not for their own demerits, but for mine Fell slaughter en their souls : heaven rest them now. Ibid. Macbeth. REMORSE. Remorse, or a painful remembrance of criminal actions or pursuits, casts down the countenance, and Clouds it with anxiety, hangs down the head, shakes it with regret, just raises the eyes as if to look up, and suddenly casts them down again with sighs; the right hand sometimes beats the breast, and the whole body writhes as with self-aversion. The voice has a harsh- ness as in hatred, and inclines to a low and reproach- ful tone. ELOCUTION. 317 Keen Remorse for Drunkenness. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly ; a quarrel, nothing wherefore. O that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains ! that we should with joy, pleasure, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts ! I will ask him for my place again ; he shall tell me I am a drunkard 5 had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast ! O strange ! every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is a devil ! Shakspeare's Othello. Remorse for Treachery and Ingratitude. I am alone the villain of the earth -, And feel I am so most. O Antony, Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid My better service, when my turpitude Thou dost so crown with gold ! This blows my heart j Tf swift thought break it not, a swifter mean Shall out-strike thought ; but thought will do 't I feel — I fight against thee ! — No : I will go seek Some ditch wherein to die j the foulest best Befits my latter part of life. Ibid. Ant. and Cleo. Reproach and Remorse for Murder of an innocent Child. Oh, when the last account 'twixt heav'n and earth Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal Witness against us to damnation ! How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds Makes deeds ill done ! Hadst thou not been by, A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd, Quoted and sign'd to do a deed of shame, This murder had not come into my mind, But taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect, Finding thee fit for bloody villainy, Apt, liable to be employ'd in danger, I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death; And thou to be endeared to a king, Mad'st it no conscience to destroy a prince. Ibid. King John. DESPAIR. Despair, as in a condemned criminal, or one who has lost all hope of salvation, bends the eye-brows downwards, clouds the forehead, rolls the eyes fright- 318 ELEMENTS OF fully, opens the mouth horizon tally, bites the lips, widens the nostrils, and gnashes the teeth. The arms are sometimes bent at the elbows, the fists clenched hard, the veins and muscles swelled, the skin livid, the whole body strained and violently agitated ; while groans of inward torture are more frequently uttered than words. If any words, they are few, and ex- pressed with a sullen eager bitterness, the tone of the voice often loud and furious, and sometimes in the same note for a considerable time* This state of human nature is too frightful to dwell upon, and almost improper for imitation ; for if death cannot be counterfeited without too much shocking our humanity ; despair, which exhibits a state ten thou- sand times more terrible than death, ought to be viewed with a kind of reverence to the great Author of Nature, who seems sometimes to exhibit to us this agony of mind as a warning to avoid that wickedness which produces it. Shakspeare has most exquisitely touched this fear- ful situation of human nature, where he draws cardi- nal Beaufort, after a wicked life, dying in despair, and terrified with the murder of duke Humphrey, to which he was accessary. K. Hen. How fares my lord ? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign. Car. If thou be'st Death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain. K. Hen. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, When Death's approach is seen so terrible ! War. Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee, Car. Bring me to my trial when you will, Dy'd he not in his bed ? where should he die ? Can I make men live, whether they will or no ? — Oh ! torture me no more, I will confess. — Alive again ? then shew me where he is, I '11 give a thousand pounds to look upon him. — He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them — Comb down his hair j look ! look ! it stands upright, Like lime-twigs to catch my winged soul ! ELOCUTION. 319 Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. K. Hen. O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, Look with gentle eye upon this wretch j O beat away the busy meddling fiend That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, And from his bosom purge this black despair ! War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin. Sal. Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably. K. Hen. Peace to his soul if God's good pleasure be ! Lord Cardinal, if thou think'st on heav'n's bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope, — He dies, and makes no sign : O God, fogive him. Shakspeares 2nd Part, Hen, VI. The bare situation of the characters, the pause and the few plain words of King Henry, He dies, and makes no sign! have more of the real sublime in them than volumes of the laboured speech in most of our modern tragedies, which, in the emphatical language of Shakspeare, may be said to be " full of sound and fury signifying nothing." SURPRISE, WONDER, AMAZEMENT, ADMIRATION. An uncommon object produces wonder; if it ap- pears suddenly, it begets surprise ; surprise continu- ing becomes amazement; and if the object of wonder comes gently to the mind, and arrests the attention by its beauty or grandeur, it excites admiration, which is a mixture of approbation and wonder ; so true is that observation of Dr. Young in the tragedy of the Revenge : Late time shall wonder, that my joys shall raise, For wonder is involuntary praise. Wonder or amazement opens the eyes, and makes them appear very prominent. It sometimes raises them to the skies, but more frequently fixes them on 320 ELEMENTS OF the object; the mouth is open, and the hands are held up nearly in the attitude of fear ; the voice is at first low, but so emphatical, that every word is pro- nounced slowly and with energy : when, by the dis- covery of something excellent in the object of won- der, the emotion may be called admiration, the eyes are raised, the hands lifted up, or clapped together, and the voice elated with expressions of rapture. Surprise at unexpected Events. Gone to be marry'd, gone to swear a peace ! False blood to false blood join'd ! Gone to be friends ? Shall Lewis have Blanch ? and Blanch those provinces? It is not so : thou hast mispoke, misheard ! Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again : It cannot be : thou dost but say 'tis so. What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head ? Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ? What means that hand upon that breast of thine ? Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds ? Be these sad sighs confirmers of thy words ? Then speak again j not all thy former tale, But this one word, whether thy tale be true. Shakspeare 's King John. Amazement at strange News, Old men and beldames, in the streets, Do prophesy upon it dangerously ; Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths j And when they talk of him they shake their heads, And whisper one another in the ear ; And he that speaks doth gripe the hearer's wrist 5 Whilst he that hears makes fearful action, With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. I saw a smith stand with his hammer thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news ; Who, with his shears and measure in his hand, Standing on slippers (which his nimble haste Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet), Told of a many thousand warlike French, That were embattled and rank'd in Kent : Another lean unwash'd artificer Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death. Ibid. ELOCUTION. 32! Emphatic Climax of Astonishment. Sir Richard, what think you ? Have you beheld, Or, have you read, or heard ? or could you think ? Or do you almost think, although you see, That you do see ? Could thought, without this object, Form such another ? This is the very top, The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest Of murder's arms ■ This is the bloodiest shame, The wildest savag'ry, the vilest stroke, That ever wall-ey'd Wrath, or starving Rage, Presented to the tears of soft Remorse, PRIDE. When our esteem of ourselves, or opinion of our own rank and merit, is so high as to lessen the re- gard due to the rank and merit of others, it is called pride. When it supposes others below our regard, it is contempt, scorn, or disdain. Pride assumes a lofty look, bordering upon the aspect and attitude of anger. The eyes full open, but with the eye-brows considerably drawn down, the mouth pouting, mostly shut, and the lips con- tracted. The words are uttered with a slow, stiff, bombastic affectation of importance; the hands some- times rest on the hips, with the elbows brought forward in the position called a-kimbo ; the legs at a distance from each other, the steps large and stately. Pride asserting Independence. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not back j I am too high born to be property'd ; To be a secondary at control, Or useful serving-man and instrument To any sovereign state throughout the world. Your breath first kindled the dead coal of war Between this chastis'd kingdom and myself, And brought in matter that should feed this fire 5 And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out With that same weak wind which enkindled it. You taught me how to know the face of right, Y 32% ELEMENTS OF Acquainted me with interest to this land ; Yea, thrust this enterprize into my heart j And come ye now to tell me John hath made His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? 1, by the honour of my marriage bed, After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; And, now it is half conquered, must I back, Because that John hath made his peace with Rome ? Am I Rome's slave ? What penny hath Rome borne, What men provided, what munition sent, To underprop this action ? Is 't not I That undergo this charge ? Who else but I, And such as to my claim are liable, Sweat in this business, and maintain this war ? Have I not heard these islanders shout out Vive le Roy ! as I have bank'd their towns ? Have I not here the best cards for the game, To win this easy match play'd for a crown ? And shall I now give o'er the yielded set ? No, no, my soul, it never shall be said. Shaks. K. John, Pride bordering on Contempt. Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see Danger and disobedience in thine eye ; O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, And majesty might never yet endure The moody frontier of a servant brow. You have good leave to leave us ; when we need Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. Shakspeare, Hen, IV. CONFIDENCE, COURAGE, BOASTING. Confidence is hope, elated by security of success in obtaining its object; and courage is the con- tempt of any unavoidable danger in the execution of what is resolved upon : In both, the head is erect, the breast projected, the countenance clear and open ; the accents are strong, round, and not too rapid ; the voice firm and even. Boasting exaggerates these appearances by loudness, blustering, and what is not unaptly called swaggering : The arms are placed a-kimbo, the foot stamped on the ground, the head ELOCUTION. 3£S drawn back with pride, the legs take large strides, and the voice swells into bombast. Confidence in one beloved. Base men that use them to so base effect ! But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth $ His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles, His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate, His tears pure messengers sent from his heart, His heart as far from fraud as heav'n from earth. Shaks. Two Gent, of Ver. Confidence of Success in Combat. Boling. O let no noble eye profane a tear •> For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear : As confident as is the falcon's flight. — Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. — My loving lord, I take my leave of you j — Of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle j — Not sick, although I have to do with death ; But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. — Lo ! as at English feasts, so I regreet The daintiest last, to make the end more sweet. Oh thou, the earthly author of my blood, Whose useful spirit in me regenerate Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up, To reach at victory above my head, — Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers ; That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat. And furnish new the name of John of Gaunt, Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son. Shaks. Rich. U. Mowb. However heaven or fortune cast my lot, There lives or dies true to King Richard's throne, A loyal, just, and upright gentleman. Never did captive with a freer heart Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace His golden, uncontrol'd enfranchisement, More than my dancing soul doth celebrate This feast of battle with mine adversary. — Most mighty liege, — and my companion peers, Take from my mouth the wish of happy years : As gentle, and as jocund, as to jest, Go 1 to fight, — truth had a quiet breast. Ibid. y2 324 ELEMENTS OF Firm determined Resolution in Battle. I am satisfy'd : Caesar sits down in Alexandria, where I will oppose his fate. Our force by land Hath nobly held : our sever d navy, too, Have knit again, and fleet, threat'ning most sea-like. Where hast thou been, my heart ? Dost thou hear, lady ? If from the field I should 'return once more, To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood ; I and my sword will earn my chronicle j There is hope in it yet : I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breath'd, And fight maliciously : for when mine hours Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives Of me for jests ; but now I '11 set my teeth, And send to darkness all that stop me. Ibid. Ant. & Chop. Boasting indignant Challenge. Show me what thou 'It do ; Woo't weep ? woo't fight? woo't fast ? woo't tear thyself? Woo't drink up esil ; eat a crocodile ? I '11 do 't — Do'st thou come here to whine, To outface me with leaping in her grave ? Be buried quick with her, and so will I : And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on us ; till our ground, Singeing its pate against the burning zone, Make Ossa like a wart ! Nay, an thou 'It mouth, I '11 rant as well as thou. Shaks. Hamlet. PERPLEXITY, IRRESOLUTION, ANXIETY. These emotions collect the body together as if for thoughtful consideration ; the eye-brows are con- tracted, the head hanging on the breast, the eyes cast downwards, the mouth shut, the lips pursed to- gether. Suddenly the whole body alters its aspect, as having discovered something, then falls into con- templation as before : the motions of the body are restless and unequal, sometimes moving quick, and sometimes slow ; the pauses in speaking are long, the tone of the voce uneven, the sentences broken and unfinished. ELOCUTION. 3%5 Perplexity from Temptation to Evil. From thee j even from thy virtue, — What 's this ? what 's this? is this her fault or mine ? The tempter or the tempted, who sins most ? Not she -, nor doth she tempt ; but it is I, That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be, That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman's lightness ? Having waste ground enough, Shall we desire to raise the sanctuary, And pitch our evils there ? Oh fie, fie, fie ! What dost thou ? or what art thou, Angelo ? Dost thou desire her foully for those things That make her good ? O let her brother live ; Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves. What ! do I love her, That I desire to hear her speak again, And feast upon her eyes ? What is 't I dream on ? Oh cunning enemy, that to catch a saint With saints do'st bait thy hook ! most dangerous Is that temptation that doth goad us on To sin in loving virtue. Shaks. Meas.for Meets, Perplexity from unexpected Events. Heaven for his mercy ! what a tide of woes Comes rushing on this woeful land at once ! I know not what to do : — I would to heav'n (So my untruth hath not provok'd him to it) The king had cut ofFmy head with my brother's.— What, are there posts dispatch'd for Ireland ? How shall we do for money for these wars ? — Come, sister, — cousin, I would say ; pray pardon me. Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts, And bring away the armour that is there. — Gentlemen, will you go to muster men ? If I know, How, or which way, to order these affairs, Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen : The one 's my sovereign, whom both my oath And duty bids defend $ the other again Is my kinsman, whom the king has wrong'd 5 Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. Well, somewhat we must do — Come, cousin, I '11 Dispose of you : go muster up your men, And meet me presently at Berkley : Gentlemen, 326 ELEMENTS OF I should to Plashy too : — « But time will not permit : — All is uneven, And every thing is left at six and seven. Shaks. Rich. II. Perplexity, how to act on sudden Surprise. Yes j — 'tis iEmilia : — by and by. — She 's dead. 'Tis like she comes to speak of Cassio's death j The noise was high. — Ha ! no more moving ? Still as the grave. — Shall she come in, wer't good ? I think she stirs again : — No. — What 's the best ? If she come in she '11 sure speak to my wife. Ibid, Othello. VEXATION. Vexation, besides expressing itself with the looks, gestures, tone, and restlessness of perplexity, adds to these, complaint, fretting, and remorse. Vexation at neglecting one's Duty. O what a rogue and peasant slave am 1 ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That from her working, all his visage warm'd, Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ! and all for nothing ° 3 For Hecuba ! What 's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her ? Ibid. Hamlet. PEEVISHNESS. Peevishness is an habitual proneness to anger on every slight occasion, and may be called a lower degree of anger : it expresses itself therefore, like anger, but more moderately, with half sentences and broken speeches uttered nastily. The upper lip is disdainfully drawn up, and the eyes are cast obliquely upon the object of displeasure. ELOCUTION. 327 Troi. What art thou angry, Pandarus ? What with me ! Pan. Because she's akin to me , therefore, she's not so fair as Helen ; an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday, But what care I ? I care not an she were a blackamoor, 'tis all one to me. Troi. Say I she is not fair ? Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father : let her to the Greeks — and so I '11 tell her the next time 1 see her — for my part, 1 11 meddle nor make no more i'th' matter. Troi. Pandarus — Pan. Not I. Troi. Pray you speak no more to me — I will leave all as I found it — and there's an end. Shaks. Troil. and Cres. ENVY. Envy is a mixture of joy, sorrow, and hatred : it is a sorrow arising from the happiness of others en- joying a good which we desire, and think we deserve; or a pleasure we receive upon their losing this good, for which we hated them. It is nearly akin to malice, but much more moderate in its tones and gestures. Aside the devil turn'd, For envy j yet, with jealous leer malign, Ey'd them askance, and to himself thus plain'd. Sight hateful, sight tormenting ! thus these two, Imparadis'd in one another's arms, The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill Of bliss on bliss : while I to hell am thrust, Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, Among our other torments not the least Still unfulfill'd with pain of longing pines. Milton's Parad. Lost. Book iv. v. 502. MALICE. Malice is an habitual malevolence long conti- nued, and watching occasion to exert itself on the hated object. This hateful disposition sets the jaws or gnashes the teeth, sends blasting flashes from the 328 ELEMENTS OF eyes, stretches the mouth horizontally, clinches both the fists, and bends the elbows in a straining manner to the body. The tone of voice and expres- sion are much the same as in anger, but not so loud. How like a fawning publican he looks ! I hate him, for he is a Christian ; But more for that, in low simplicity, He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice. If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred nation, and he rails E'en there where merchants most do congregate, On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe If I forgive him. Shaks. Mer. of Fen. SUSPICION, JEALOUSY. Fear of another's endeavouring to prevent our attainment of the good desired, raises our suspicion ; and suspicion of his having obtained, or of being likely to obtain it, raises or constitutes jealousy. Jealousy between the sexes is a ferment of love, hatred, hope, fear, shame, anxiety, grief, pity, envy, pride, rage, cruelty, vengeance, madness, and every other tormenting passion which can agitate the human mind. Therefore, to express jealousy well, one ought to know how to represent justly all these passions by turns, and often several of them together. Jealousy shows itself by restlessness, peevishness, thoughtfulness, anxiety, and absence of mind. Some- times it bursts out into piteous complaint, and weep- ing ; then a gleam of hope, that all is yet well, lights up the countenance into a momentary smile. Imme- diately the face, clouded with a general gloom, shows the mind overcast again with horrid suspicions and frightful imaginations. Thus the jealous man is a prey to the most tormenting feelings, and is alter- nately tantalised by hope, and plunged into despair. ELOCUTION. 329 Shakspeare, as if unable to express these feelings, makes Othello cry out, But oh ! what damned minutes tells he o'er, Who doats yet doubts, suspects yet strongly loves ! Surprise in Jealousy commencing, Think, my lord !-~Oh heav'n, he echoes me! As if there were some monster in his thought Too hideous to be shown. — Thou dost mean something ; 1 heard they say but now — thou lik'dst not that, When Cassio left my wife — What didst not like ? And when I told thee he was of my counsel In my whole course of wooing, thou cry'dst, indeed! And didst contract and purse thy brow together, As if thou hadst shut up within thy brain, Some horrible conceit: if thou do'st love me, Show me thy thought. Shales. Othello, Suspicion and Jealousy commencing. Leo. Too hot, too hot: To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods, I have a tremor cordis on me : — my heart dances ; But not for joy, — not joy. — This entertainment May a free face put on ; derive a liberty From a heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the agent : it may, I grant 5 But to be padling palms, and pincing fingers, As now they are ; and making practis'd smiles, As in a looking-glass ; and then to sigh as 'twere The nort o'the deer ; oh that is entertainment My bosom likes not, nor my brows 5 Mamilius Art thou my boy? — Ibid. Winter s Tale, Jealousy increasing. Go to, go to. How she holds up the neb, the bill to him, And arms her with the boldness of a wife To her allowing husband ! Gone already ; Inch thick, knee deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one. — Go, play, boy, play ; — thy mother plays, and I Play to, but so disgrae'd a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave : contempt and clamour Will be my kneli.— Go, play, boy, play. — 330 ELEMENTS OF There have been, Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now ; And many a man there is, even at this present, Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm, That little thinks she hath been false in his absence. Sliaks. Winter's Tale. Attempt to hide Jealousy. Her. Are you mov'd, my lord ? Leo. No, in good earnest. — How sometimes nature will betray its folly, Its tenderness ; and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms ! Looking on the lines Of my boy's face, methought, I did recoil Twenty-three years ; and saw myself unbreeeh'd, In my green velvet coat : my dagger muzzled, Lest it should bite its master, and so prove, As ornament oft does, too dangerous. — How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, This squash, this gentleman :— mine honest friend, Will you take eggs for money ? Ibidem, Jealousy confirmed. Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, To appoint myself in this vexation, sully The purity and whiteness of my bed Which to preserve is sleep ; which being spotted Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps ? Give scandal to the blood o' th' prince my son, Who I do think is mine, and love as mine, Without ripe moving to 't ? Would I do this ? Could man so blench ? Ibidem. Jealousy mixed with Grief. How blest am I In my just censure ! in my true opinion ! — Alack for lesser knowledge ! — how accurs'd In being so bless'd ! There may be in the cup A spider steep'd, and may drink, depart, And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge Is not infected j but if one present The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides, With violent hefts. — 1 have drunk, and seen the spider! Ibidem. ELOCUTION. Jealousy mixed with Rage and Regret. 331 This fellow's of exceeding honesty, And knows all qualities with a learned spirit Of human dealings : if I do prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, I 'd whistle her off and let her down the wind To prey at fortune. Haply, for I am black, And have not those soft parts of conversation That chambers have, or for I am declin'd Into the vale of years — yet that 's not much j — She's gone, I am abus'd, and my relief Must be — to loath her. Oh the curse of marriage, That we can call these delicate creatures ours And not their appetites ! Shaks. Othello. MODESTY, SUBMISSION. Modesty is a diffidence of ourselves, accompanied with a delicacy in our sense of whatever is mean, indecent, or dishonourable ; or a fear of doing these things, or of having them imputed to us. Submission is an humble sense of our inferiority, and a quiet sur- render of our powers to a superior. Modesty bends the body forward, has a placid, downcast counte- nance, levels the eyes to the breast, if not to the feet of the superior character: the voice is low, the tone submissive, and the words few. Submission adds to these a lower bending of the head, and a spreading of the arms and hands downwards towards the person we submit to. Modesty on being appointed to a high station. Now, good my lord, Let there be some more test made of my metal, Before so noble, and so great a figure, Be stamp'd upon it. Shaks. Meas. for Meas. Submission on Forgiveness of Crime. O noble sir ! Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me : 33% ELEMENTS OF I do embrace your offer ; and dispose From henceforth of poor CI audio. Shahs. Much Ado, be. SHAME. Shame, or a sense of appearing to a disadvantage before one's own fellow-creatures, turns away the face from the beholders, covers it w T ith blushes, hangs the head, casts down the eyes, draws down and con- tracts the eye-brows. It either strikes the person dumb, or, if he attempts to say any thing in his own defence, causes his tongue to falter, confounds his utterance, and puts him upon making a thousand gestures and grimaces to keep himself in coun- tenance ; all which only heighten his confusion and embarrassment. Shame at being convicted of a Crime. Oh my dread lord — I should be guiltier than my guiltiness, To think 1 can be undiscernible, When 1 perceive your grace, like power divine, Hath look'd upon my passes ; then, good prince, No longer session hold upon my shame, But let my trial be mine own confession : Immediate sentence then, and sequent death, Is all the grace I beg. Ibid. Meas. for Meas. GRAVITY. Gravity or seriousness, as when the mind is fixed, or deliberating on some important subject, smooths the countenance, and gives it an air of melancholy ; the eye-brows are lowered, the eyes cast downwards, the mouth almost shut, and sometimes a little con- tracted. The posture of the body and limbs is com- posed, and without much motion ; the speech slow and solemn, the tone without much variety. ELOCUTION. 333 Grave Deliberation on War and Peace. Fathers, we once again are met in council -, Caesar's approach has suraraon'd us together, And Rome attends her fate from our resolves. How shall we treat this bold aspiring man ? Success still follows him, and backs his crimes. Pharsalia gave him Rome : iEgypt has since Receiv'd his yoke, and the whole Nile is Caesar's. Why should I mention Juba's overthrow, Or Scipio's death ? Numidia's burning sands Still smoke with blood ; Tis time we should decree What course to take ; our foe advances on us, And envies us even Libya's sultry deserts. Fathers, pronounce your thoughts j are they still fix'd To hold it out, and fight it to the last ? Or are your hearts subdu'd at length, and wrought, By time and ill success, to a submission } Sempronius, speak. Addison's Cato. INQUIRY. Inquiry Into some difficult subject, fixes the body nearly in one posture, the head somewhat stooping, the eyes poring, and the eye-brows contracted. Inquiry mixed with Suspicion. Pray you once more — Is not your father grown incapable Of reas'nable affairs ? is he not stupid With age and altering rheums ? Can he speak, hear, Know man from man, dispute his own estate ? Lies he not bed-rid, and again does nothing But what he did being childish ? Shaks. Winters Tale. ATTENTION. Attention to an esteemed or superior character has nearly the same aspect as Inquiry, and requires silence ; the eyes often cast down upon the ground ; sometimes fixed upon the face of the speaker, but not too familiarly. 334 ELEMENTS OF TEACHING OR INSTRUCTING. Teaching, explaining, or inculcating, requires a mild serene air, sometimes approaching to an autho- ritative gravity ; the features and gesture altering according to the age or dignity of the pupil, and importance of the subject inculcated. To youth it should be mild, open, serene, and condescending; to equals and superiors, modest and diffident: but when the subject is of great dignity or importance, the air and manner of conveying the instruction ought to be firm and emphatical, the eye steady and open, the eye-brow a little drawn down over it, but not so much as to look surly or dogmatical ; the pitch of voice ought to be strong; steady, and clear, the articula- tion distinct, the utterance slow, and the manner approaching to confidence. Instruction to modest Youth. Pol. Wherefore, gentle maiden, Do you neglect your gilly-tiowers and carnations ? Per. 1 have heard it said, There is an art which in their piedness shares With great creating nature. Pol. Say there be, Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean \ so over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art Which nature makes j you see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scyon to the wildest stock ; And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather ; but The art itself is nature- Shaks. Winters Tale. Instruction to an Inferior. Angelo — There is a kind of character in thy life, That, to the observer, doth thy history Fully unfold : Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper, as to waste ELOCUTION. 335 Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee. Heav'n doth with us, as we with torches do ; Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues Did not go forch of us, 'twere all as if We had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd But to fine issues : nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence j But Jike a thrifty goddess she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. But 1 do bend my speech To one that can in my part me advertise. Hold therefore, Angelo — In our remove be thou at full ourself. Mortality and mercy in Vienna Live in thy tongue and heart : Old Escalus, Though first in question, is thy secondary: Take thy commission. Shaks. Meets, for Meas. ARGUING. Arguing requires a cool, sedate, attentive aspect, and a clear, slow, and emphatical accent, with much demonstration by the hand ; it assumes somewhat of authority, as if fully convinced of the truth of what it pleads for, and sometimes rises to great vehemence and energy of assertion ; the voice clear, bold, dis- tinct, and firm, as in confidence. Reasoning with deference to others. Ay, but yet Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, Than fall and bruise to death. Alas ! this gentleman Whom I would save, had a most noble father ! Let but your honour know, whom I believe To be most strait in virtue, whether, ?.n The working of your own affections, Had time coher'd with place, or place with wishing, Or that the resolute acting of your blood Could have attain'd th' effect of your own purpose, Whether you had not some time in your life Err'd in this point you censure now in him, And pull'd the law upon you. Ibid. 336 ELEMENTS OF Reasoning warmly. By my white beard, You offer him, if this be so, a wrong, Something unfilial : Reason, my son Should choose himself a wife ; but as good reason, The father (all whose joy is nothing else But fair posterity) should hold some counsel In such a business. Skaks. Winter* Tale. Argument asserting right to Property. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford > But as I come, 1 come for Lancaster : And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace, Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye : You are my father, for, methinks, in you I see old Gaunt alive ; O, then, my father, Will you permit that I should stand condemn'd A wand'ring vagabond ; my rights and loyalties Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away To upstart unthrifts ? Wherefore was I born ? If that my cousin king be king of England, It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster. You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman ; Had you first dy'd, and he been thus trod down, He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father, To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the bay. I am deny'd t o sue my livery here, And yet my letters-patents give me leave : My father's goods ars all distrain'd and sold ; And these, and all, are all amiss employ'd. What would you have me do ? I am a subject. And challenge law : Attorneys are deny'd me ; And therefore personally lay my claim To my inheritance of free descent. Ibid. Rich. II. ADMONITION. Admonition assumes a grave air, bordering on seventy; the head is sometimes shaken at the person we admonish, as if we felt for the miseries he was likely to bring upon himself, the right hand is directed to the person spoken to, and the fore-finger, project- ed from the rest, seems to point out more particularly ELOCUTION. 337 the danger we give warning of; the voice assumes a low tone, bordering on a monotone, with a mixture of severity and sympathy, of pity and reproach. Admonition to execute Laws strictly. Tis one thing to be tempted, Escalus, Another thing to fall. I not deny, The jury passing on the prisoner's life, May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two, Guiltier than him they try j what 's open made To justice, that it seizes on. What know The laws, that thieves do pass on thieves ? 'tis pregnant, The jewel that we find, we stoop and take 't, Because we see it ; but what do we not see, We tread upon, and never think of it. You may not so extenuate his offence, For I have had such faults j but rather tell me When I, that censure him, do so offend j Let mine own judgment pattern out my death, And nothing come in partial. He must die. Shakspeares Meets. for Meas, Admonition to beware of Complaisance in Friendship. Ever note, Lucilius, When love begins to sicken and decay, It useth an enforced ceremony. There are no tricks in plain and simple faith : But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, Make gallant show, and promise of their mettle ; But when they should endure the bloody spur, They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades, Sink in the trial. Comes his army on ? Ibid. Julius Caesar. Admonition to act justly. Remember March, the ides of March remember ! Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice ? What ! shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers ; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes j And sell the mighty space of our large honours, For so much trash as may.be grasped thus > — z 338 ELEMENTS OF I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. Shaksp. Jul. Cas. AUTHORITY. Authority opens the countenance, but draws down the eye-brows a little, so as to give the look an air of gravity. Authority forbidding Combatants to fight. Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, And both return back to their chairs again : — Withdraw with us, and let the trumpets sound While we return these dukes what we decree. Draw near And list what with our council we have done. For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd With that dear blood which it hath fostered -, And for our eyes doth hate the dire aspect Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' swords ; Therefore we banish you our territories : You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death, Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields, Shall not regreet our fair dominions, But tread the stranger-paths of banishment. Ibid. Rich. II. COMMANDING. Commanding requires an air a little more peremp- tory, with a look a little severe, or stern. The hand is held out, and moved towards the person to whom the order is given, with the palm upwards, and some- times it is accompanied by a nod of the head to the person commanded. If the command be absolute, and to a person unwilling to obey, the right hand is extended, and projected forcibly towards the person commanded. Commanding Combatants to fight. We were not born to sue, but to command ; Which since we cannot do to make you friends, ELOCUTION. S39 Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, At Coventry, upon St. Lambert's day j There shall your swords and lances arbitrate The swelling difference of your settled hate. Since we cannot atone you, you shall see Justice decide the victor's chivalry. Lord marshal, command our officers at arms Be ready to direct these home-alarms. Shaksp. Rich, II. FORBIDDING. Forbidding draws the head backwards, and pushes the arm and hand forwards, with the palm downwards, as if going to lay it upon the person, and hold him down immoveable, that he may not do what is for- bidden him ; the countenance has the air of aversion, the voice is harsh, and the manner peremptory. Forbidding to break Orders. On pain of death no person be so bold Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, Except the marshal, and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. Ibidem. AFFIRMING. Affirming, with a judicial oath, is expressed by lifting the right hand and eyes towards heaven; or, if conscience is appealed to, by laying the right hand open upon the breast exactly upon the heart ; the voice low and solemn, the words slow and deliberate; but when the affirmation is mixed with rage or re- sentment, the voice is more open and loud, the words quicker, and the countenance has all the confidence of strong and peremptory assertion. Affirming an Accusation. My lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue j Scorns to unsay what once it hath delivered : In that dread time when Gloster's death was plot, I heard you say, — " Is not my arm of length z 2 340 ELEMENTS OF " That reacheth from the restful English court, " As far as Calais, to my uncle's head ?" Among much other talk, that very time I heard you say, you rather had refuse The offer of an hundred thousand crowns, „ Than Bolingbroke return to England : Adding withal, how blest this land would be, In this your cousin's death. If that thy valour stand on sympathies, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine. I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, That thou wert cause of noble Gloster's death : If thou deny'st it twenty times, thou liest ; And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, Where it was forged, with my rapier's point. Shaksp. Rich* II. DENYING. Denying what is affirmed is but an affirmation of the contrary, and is expressed like affirmation. De- nying a favour. See Refusing. Denying an Accusation. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in that beauteous clay, Let hell want pains enough to torture me ! — I left him well. Ibid. King John. DIFFERING. Differing in sentiment may be expressed nearly as refusing. See Refusing. Differing about the Conduct of a War. Bru. Well, to our work alive. What do you think Of marching to Philippi presently ? Cas. I do not think it good. Bru. Your reason? Cas. This it is : 'Tis better that the enemy seek us, So shall we waste his means, weary his soldiers, Doing himself offence ; whilst we, lying still, Are full of rest, defence, and nimbleness. ELOCUTION. 341 Bru. Good reasons must of force give place to better. The people 'twixt Philippi and this ground, Do stand but in a fore'd affection ; For they have grudg'd us contribution. The enemy marching along by them, By them shall make a fuller number up, Come on refresh'd, new added, and encouraged > From -which advantage shall we cut him off, If at Philippi we do face him there, These people at our backs. Cas. Hear me, good brother — Bru. Under your pardon. — You must note beside, That we have tried the utmost of our friends, Our legions are brimful], our cause is ripe ; The enemy increaseth every day, We, at the height, are ready to decline. There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat j And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. Shaksp. Jul. Cces. AGREEING. Agreeing in opinion, or being convinced, is ex- pressed nearly as granting. See Granting. Agreeing in an Enterprise. Post. I embrace these conditions ; let us have articles betwixt us j only thus far you shall answer: if you make your addresses to her, and give me directly to understand you have prevailed, I am no far- ther your enemy, she is not worth our debate. If she remain unse- duced, you not making it appear otherwise] for your ill opinion, and the assault you have made to her chastity, you shall answer me with your sword. Jac. Your hand, a covenant ; we will have these things set down by lawful counsel, and straightway for Britain, lest the bargain should catch cold and starve. I will fetch my gold, and have our two wagers recorded. Ibid. Cymbeline. JUDGING. Judging demands a grave steady look, with deep attention, the countenance altogether clear from any 34£ ELEMENTS OF appearance, either of disgust or favour. The pro- nunciation slow, distinct, and emphatical, accompa- nied with little action, and that very grave. Judging according to strict Law. Her. I beseech your grace that I may know The worst that may befall me in this case, If I refuse to wed Demetrius. Thes. Either to die the death, or to abjure For ever the society of men. Therefore, fair Hermia, question your desires ; Know of your youth, examine well your blood, Whether, not yielding to your father's choice, You can endure the livery of a nun, For aye to be in shady cloister mew'd, To live a barren sister all your life, Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon. Thrice-blessed they that master so their blood, To undergo such maiden pilgrimage ! But earthlier-happy is the rose distill'd, Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn. Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness. Her. So will I grow, so live, so die, my lord, Ere I will yield up my virginity Unto his lordship, to whose unwish'd yoke My soul consents not to give sovereignty. Thes. Take time to pause, and by the next new moon, (The sealing-day betwixt my love and me, For everlasting bond of fellowship,) Upon that day either prepare to die For disobedience to your father's will, Or else to wed Demetrius, as he would, Or on Diana's altar to protest For aye austerity and single life. Shaks. Mids. Night's Dream REPROVING. Reproving puts on a stern aspect* roughens the voice, and is accompanied with gestures not much different from those of threatening, but not so lively. It is like Reproach, but without the sourness and ill- nature. See Reproach, ELOCUTION. 343 Reproving with Authority. How comes it, Cassio, you are thus forgot, That you unlace your reputation thus, And spend your rich opinion for the name Of a night-brawler? Give me answer to it ? Shaks. Othello. ACQUITTING. Acquitting is performed with a benevolent tranquil countenance, and mild tone of voice ; the right hand is open, and waved gently towards the person ac- quitted, expressing dismission. See Dismissing. CONDEMNING. Condemning assumes a severe look, but sometimes mixed with pity. The sentence is expressed either with severity or pity, according to the guilt of the person condemned. Passing Sentence with Severity. For this new marry'd man, approaching here, Whose salt imagination yet hath wrong'd Your well-defended honour 5 you must pardon him For Mariana's sake j but as a judge, Being doubly criminal, in violation Of sacred chastity, and in promise-breach, Thereon dependent for your brother's life, The very mercy of the law cries out Most audible, even from his proper tongue, An Angelo for Claudio j death for death. Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure ; Like doth quit like, and measure still for measure. Then, Angelo, thy faults are manifest ; Which, tho' thou wouldst deny 'em, deny thee 'vantage. We do condemn thee to the very block Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste. Away with him. Ibid. Meas. for Meas. 3M ELEMENTS OF Passing Sentence with Pity and Reluctance. God quit you in his mercy ! Hear your sentence : You have conspir'd against our royal person, Join'd with an enemy, and from his coffers Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death ; Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, His princes and his peers to servitude, His subjects to oppression and contempt, And his whole kingdom unto desolation. Touching our person, seek we no revenge ; But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, Whose ruin you three sought, that to her laws We do deliver you. Go therefore hence, Poor miserable wretches, to your death ; The taste whereof God of his mercy give You patience to endure, and true repentance Of all your dire offences. Bear them hence. Shaksp. Hen. V. PARDONING. Pardoning differs from acquitting in this : the latter means clearing a person after trial of guilt ; whereas the former supposes guilt, and signifies merely deliver- ing the guilty person from punishment. Pardoning requires some degree of severity of aspect and tone of voice, because the pardoned person is not an object of entire unmixed approbation. Pardoning a cruel Prosecution. That thou may'st see the difference of our spirits^ I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it : For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's; The other half comes to the general state, Which humbleness may drive into a fine. Ibid. Mer. of Ven. DISMISSING. Dismissing with approbation is done with a kind aspect and tone of voice \ the right hand open, the ELOCUTION. 345 palm upwards, gently waved towards the person. Dismissing with displeasure, besides the look and tone of voice which suits displeasure, the hand is hastily thrown out towards the person dismissed, the back part of the hand towards him, and the counte- nance at the same time turned away from him. Dismissing with Complaisance. Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth* The farthest limit of my embassy. K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace : Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France, For ere thou can'st report I will be there, The thunder of my cannon shall be heard ; So hence [ Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, And sullen presage of your own decay. — An honourable conduct let him have ; Pembroke, look to 't : — farewell, Chatillon. Shak. King John. REFUSING. Refusing, when accompanied with displeasure, is done nearly in the same way as dismissing with dis- pleasure. Without displeasure, it is done with a visible reluctance, which occasions bringing out the words slowly, with such a shake of the head and shrug of the shoulders, and hesitation in the speech, as im- plies perplexity between granting and refusing, as in the following example : Refusing to lend Money. They answer in a joint and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot Do what they would ; are sorry — you are honourable— But yet they could have wish'd — they know not — Something hath been amiss—a noble nature May catch a wrench — wou'd all were well — 'tis pityj And so intending other serious matters, After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions 346 ELEMENTS OF With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods, They froze me into silence, Shakspeares Timon of Athens. Refusing with Displeasure. Met. Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat An humble heart. C'ces. I must prevent thee, Cimber ; These crouchings, and these lowly courtesies, Might fire the blood of ordinary men, And turn pre-ordi nance, and first decree, Into the lane of children. Be not fond, To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood, That will be thaw'd from the true quality With that which melteth fools ; 1 mean sweet words, Low-crooked curt'sies, and base spaniel-fawning. Thy brother by decree is banished ; If thou dost bend, and pray, and fawn for him, I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause Will he be satisfied. Shakspeares Jul. Cccs. GIVING, GRANTING, When done with unreserved good-will, is accompanied with a benevolent aspect, and tone of voice; the right hand open with the palm upwards, extending towards the person we favour, as if delivering to him what he asks ; the head at the same time inclining forwards, as indicating a benevolent disposition and entire consent. Giving a Daughter in Marriage. Pros. If I have too severely punish'd you, Your compensation makes amends ; for I Have given you here a thread of mine own life, Or that for which I live, whom once again I tender to thy hand : all thy vexations • Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Hast strangely stood the test. Here afore heav'n I ratify this my rich gift : Ferdinand, ELOCUTION. 547 Do not smile at me that I boast her off; For thou wilt find she will outstrip all praise, And make it halt behind her. Fer. 1 believe it Against an oracle. Pros. Then as my gift, and thine own acquisition Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter. Shaks, Tempest. GRATITUDE. Gratitude puts on an aspect full. of complacency. If the object of it be a character greatly superior, it expresses much submission. The right hand open with the fingers spread, and pressed upon the breast just over the heart, expresses very properly a sincere and hearty sensibility of obligation. Gratitude for great Benefits. O great Sciolto ! O my more than father ! Let me not live, but at thy very name My eager heart springs up and leaps with joy. When I forget the vast, vast debt I owe thee — (Forget — but 'tis impossible) then let rhe Forget the use and privilege of reason, Be banish'd from the commerce of mankind, To wander in the desert among brutes, To bear the various fury of the seasons, The midnight cold, and noontide scorching heat, To be the scorn of earth, and curse of heaven. Rowe's Fair Penitent . CURIOSITY. Curiosity opens the eyes and mouth, lengthens the neck, bends the body forwards, and fixes it in one posture, nearly as in admiration. When it speaks, the voice, tone, and gesture, nearly as Inquiry. See Inquiry. 34,8 ELEMENTS OF Curiosity at first seeing a fine Object. Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say what thou seest yond. Mir. What is 't ? a spirit ? Lo how it looks about ! believe me, sir, It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit. Pros. No, wench, it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses As we have, such. Mir, 1 might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Shaks. Tempest. PROMISING. Promising is expressed by benevolent looks, a soft but earnest voice, and sometimes by inclining the head and hands open, with the palms upwards, to- wards the person to whom the promise is made. Sincerity in promising is expressed by laying the right hand gently on the left breast. Promise of prosperous Events, I '11 deliver all, And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, And sail so expeditious, it shall catch Your royal fleet far off. Ibidem. VENERATION To parents, superiors, or persons of eminent virtue, is an humble and respectful acknowledgement of their excellence, and our own inferiority. The head and body are inclined a little forward, and the hand, with the palm downward, just raised as to meet the inclination of the body, and then let fall again with apparent timidity and diffidence ; the eye is sometimes lifted up, and then immediately cast downward, as if unworthy to behold the object ELOCUTION. 349 before it ; the eye-brows are drawn down ; the fea- tures, and the whole body and limbs, are all com- posed to the most profound gravity. When this rises to adoration of the Almighty Creator and Di- rector of all things, it is too sacred to be imitated, and seems to demand that humble annihilation of ourselves, which must ever be the consequence of a just sense of the Divine Majesty, and our own unworthiness. RESPECT Is but a less degree of Veneration, and is nearly allied to Modesty. DESIRE Expresses itself by bending the body forwards, and stretching the arms towards the object, as to grasp it. The countenance smiling, but eager and wishful ; the eyes wide open, and eye-brows raised ; the mouth open ; the tone of voice suppliant, but lively and cheerful, unless there be distress as well as desire ; the expressions fluent and copious; if no words are used, sighs instead of them; but this is chiefly in distress. COMMENDATION. Commendation is the expression of the appro- bation we have for any object in which we find any congruity to our ideas of excellence, natural or moral, so as to communicate pleasure. As com- mendation generally supposes superiority in the per- son commending, it assumes the aspect of love (but without desire and respect), and expresses itself in a mild tone of voice, with a small degree of con- 350 ELEMENTS. OF fidence ; the arms are gently spread, the hands open, with the palms upwards, directed towards the person approved, and sometimes gently lifted up and down, as if pronouncing his praise. Commendation for obliging Behaviour. You have done our pleasures very much grace, fair ladies; Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, Which was not half so beautiful and kind j You've added worth unto't, and lively lustre, And entertain'd me with mine own device : I am to thank you for it. Shakspeare's Timon of Athens. Commendation for Fidelity. O good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat but for promotion j And, having that, do cloak their service up, Even with the having: It is not so with thee. Ibid. As You Like It. EXHORTING. Exhorting or encouraging, is earnest persuasion, attended with confidence of success. The voice has the softness of love, intermixed with the firmness of courage ; the arms are sometimes spread, with the hands open, as entreating ; and sometimes the right hand is lifted up, and struck rapidly down, as en- forcing what we say. Exhorting. But wherefore do you droop ? Why look you sad ? Be great in act, as you have been in thought j Let not the world see fear and sad distrust Govern the motion of a kingly eye : Be stirring as the time ; be fire with fire ; ELOCUTION. Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow Of bragging horror : so shall inferior eyes, That borrow their behaviours from the great, Grow great by your example 5 and put on The dauntless spirit of resolution j Show boldness and aspiring confidence. What, shall they seek the lion in his den, And fright him there, and make him tremble there ! Oh let it not be said ! — Forage, and run, To meet displeasure farther from the doors, And grapple with him ere he come so nigh. Shakspeare's King John. COMPLAINING. Complaining, as when one is under violent bodily pain, distorts the features, almost closes the eyes ; sometimes rises them wistfully; opens the mouth, gnashes the teeth, draws up the upper lip, draws down the head upon the breast, and contracts the whole body. The arms are violently bent at the elbows, and the fists strongly clinched. The voice is uttered in groans, lamentations, and sometimes vio- lent screams. Complaining of extreme Pain. Search there ; nay, probe me j search my wounded reins — Pull, draw it out — Oh, I am shot ! A forked burning arrow Sticks across my shoulders : the sad venom flies Like lightning through my flesh, my blood, my marrow. Ha ! what a change of torments I endure ! A bolt of ice runs hissing through my bowels : 'Tis, sure, the arm of death ; give me a chair j Cover me, for I freeze, and my teeth chatter, And my knees knock together. Lee's Alexander. FATIGUE. Fatigue from hard labour gives a general languor to the body; the countenance is dejected, the arms hang listless; the body if not sitting or lying along, 352 ELEMENTS OF stoops, as in old age; the legs, if walking, are dragged heavily along, and seem at every step to bend under the weight of the body. The voice is weak, and hardly articulate enough to be understood. Fatigue from Travelling. I see a man's life is a tedious one : I 've tir'd myself, and for two nights together Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick, But that my resolution helps me. Milford, When from the mountain top Pisanio showed thee, Thou wast within a kem Oh me, I think Foundations fly the wretched j such I mean Where they should be relieved. Shakspeare*s Cymbeline. Feebleness from Hunger. Adam. Dear master, I can go no farther : Oh, I die for food ! here lie I down and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master. Duke. Welcome: set down your venerable burden, And let him feed. Orla. I thank you most for him. Adam. So had you need ; I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. Ibid. As You Like It. SICKNESS. Sickness has infirmity or feebleness in every mo- tion, and utterance; the eyes dim and almost closed, the cheeks are pale and hollow, the jaw falls, the head hangs down as if too heavy to be supported by the neck ; the voice feeble, trembling, and plaintive, the head shaking, and the whole body, as it were, sinking under the weight that oppresses it. Sicktiess approaching to Death. And wherefore should this good news make me sick ? I should rejoice now at this happy news, ELOCUTION. 358 And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy : — me ! come near me, now I am much ill. 1 pray you take me up and bear me hence Into some other chamber ; softly, pray — Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends, Unless some dull and favourable hand Will whisper music to my weary spirit. Shaksp. Henry IF. M Part. Trifling as this selection of examples of the pas- sions may appear, it is presumed it will be singularly useful. The passions are everywhere to be found in small portions, promiscuously mingled with each other, but not so easily met with in examples of length, and where one passion only operates at a time : such a selection, however, seemed highly proper to facilitate the study of the passions, as it is evident that the expression of any passion may be sooner gained by confining our practice for a con- siderable time to one passion only, than by passing abruptly from one to the other, as they promis- cuously occur ; which is the case with the author to whom I am so much indebted for the description of the passions, and with those who have servilely copied him. The instances of a single passion which I have selected, may be augmented at pleasure ; and when the pupil has acquired the expression of each passion singly, I would earnestly recommend to him to analyse his composition, and carefully to mark it with the several passions, emotions, and sentiments it contains, by which means he will distinguish and separate what is often mixed and confounded, and be prompted to force and variety at almost every sentence, I am well aware, that the passions are sometimes so slightly touched, and often melt so insensibly into each other, as to make it somewhat difficult precisely to mark their boundaries ; but this is no argument against our marking them where they are distinct and obvious ; nor against our suggesting them to 2 a 354 ELEMENTS OF ELOCUTION. those who may not be quite so clear-sighted as our- selves. Indeed, the objection to this practice seems entirely founded on these two misconceptions : be- cause we cannot perfectly delineate every shade of sound or passion, we ought not to attempt any ap- proaches to them ; and because good readers and speakers have no need of these assistances, therefore, they are useless to every one else. But this reasoning, I am convinced, is so palpably wrong, as sufficiently to establish the contrary opinion, without any other argument in its favour. THE END. Printed by J. Nichols and Son, _ 25, Parliament Street. Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Nov. 2007 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111