GIFT OF MICHAEL REESE '?^H^ GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION; CONTAINING THE PRINCIPLES or THE ARTS OF READING AND SPEAKING: ILLUSTRATED BY APPROPRIATE EXERCISES AND EXAMPLES, ADAPTED TO COLLEGES, SCHOOLS, AND PRIVATE INSTRUCTION: THE WHOLE ARRANGED IN THE ORDER IN WHICH IT IS TAUGHT IN TALE COLLEGE. BY JONATHAN BARBER, MEMBER OP THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS, LONDON. ' PUBLISHED BY A. H. MALTBY. 1830. ' u * * DISTRICT OF CONNECTICUT, SS. *~-~~ BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the ninth day of December, in the fifty-fourth year of the independence 3 of the United States of America, JONATHAN BARBER, of the said District hath deposited in this Office the title of a Book, the right whereof he claims as Author in the words following to wit : "A Grammar ef Elocution, containing the principles of the Arts of Speaking and Reading, illustrated by appropriate exercises and examples, adapted to colleges, schools, and private instruction. the whole arranged in the order in which it is taught in Yale College. By Jonathan Barber." In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, entitled " an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned, and also to the act, en- titled " an act supplementary to an act, entitled an act for the en- couragement of learning by securing the copies of Maps, charts. and books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such copies during the times therein mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving and etching historical and other prints." CHARLES A. INGERSOLL, Clerk of the District of Connecticut. A true copy of Record examined and sealed by me, CHARLES A. INGERSOLL, Clerk of the District of Connecticut. BALDWIN AND TREADWAY, PRINTERS. TO JAMES RUSH, M. D. PHILADELPHIA. DEAR SIR THE treatise which you published in 1 827, entitled the " Philosophy of the Human Voice," was the first work that ever presented a true and comprehensive record of the vocal functions. Physiology is a science, the details of which, are discoverable only by observation and experiment. The history of the functions of the voice, is a legitimate department of that science, and you have investigated it in the only true method. Your work is strictly inductive : its philosophical principle is therefore correct. It combines, at the same time, such fullness of detail, with such an orderly classification of the vocal functions, as to entitle your views of the sub- ject, on the ground both of the comprehensiveness of the particulars, and the felicity of the arrangement, to the denomination of A SCIENCE. Much less originality, depth, and accuracy of investigation, devoted to some art which mankind in general have been taught to consider profitable, would have brought you a more immediate recompense of fame ; not however, perhaps, a larger portion of ultimate glory. As to the practical tendency 2 DEDICATION. of your treatise, I would observe that it satisfied my curiosity, as to the elements of the art which I teach, and enlarged to so great an extent my resources as a teacher, that the advantages I am constantly deriving from it, of themselves prompt me to a full and grateful acknowledgement of its merits. It naturally led to a friendly intercourse between us : for what is more pow- erful, when good moral qualities are not deficient, to at- tract and bind one man to another, than fellowship in elevating intellectual pursuits. The method of investigation adopted in your work, shows the reason why the ancients did not reduce elocu- tion to a science. Recent times first disclosed the true mode of investigating nature ; and your treatise will be admitted by all competent judges, to be a triumphant ex- hibition of its efficacy. This " Grammar of Elocution," is fruit gathered from the vine which you planted ; it is adapted to special pur- poses, which will be set forth in the preface, but is by no mejjis intended as a substitute for your valuable work. In what I have said of that work, I have only dis- charged a debt of public justice, and told what I believe to be the truth ; I confess it has been with pleasure, be- cause I can subscribe myself Your sincere Friend and Servant, JONATHAN BARBER. NEW-HAVEN, Jan. 1830, PREFACE. THE value of the following work must be estimated, I, by the importance of the subject of which it treats, and II. by the manner in which that subject is treated. I. As respects the importance of delivery, I shall offer an argument, which I consider as conclusive. It is found- ed on the opinion and practice of the Greek and Roman orators. Their evidence to the importance of the art of Elocution, and to the care with which it was cultivated among them, is full and clear. I see no reason to believe, that the ancients had any record of the functions of the voice any science of Elocution, in the sense in which we possess it in the works of Steele and Rush, or in which 1 have endeavored to display it in this Grammar. The discourse of Quinctilian on the voice, may be considered as reveal- ing to us the Ultima Thule of their researches. But they endeavored to compensate by practice, for their deficiency in principles. The Greeks, especially, entertained very high conceptions of the end and objects of the fine arts generally, and of the art of speaking, among the rest. They were not satisfied, unless their efforts surprised, moved, delighted. They considered the true end of a fine art, was, to commu- nicate a high degree of satisfaction to a cultivated taste; and they continued to labor, till they attained that end. Hence the long and painful preparatory exercises in speak- ing, to which they submitted, in the presence of their rhe- torical masters. These, however, were, as regards elocu- tion, rather an appeal to the taste of those masters, than to any general standard of science ; and the corrections must 4 PREFACE. have been, for the most part, the result of individual feeling and judgment. But though thus destitute of what Cicero calls the " Fontes philosdphiae e quibus ilia manant,"* their sense of the importance of delivery, is strongly dis- closed in their history. I will not dwell on the case of Demosthenes, with his half shaven head, his cave, and his practice on the sea shore, though they are an em- phatic record of his opinions on elocution, and of his sub- lime devotion to the pursuit of his art : but I will mention a fact, perhaps not so generally known. It is, that this distin- guished orator expended a sum, amounting to several thou- sand dollars, in the payment of a master of elocution. Ci- cero, after having completed his education in other respects, (and what an education !) devoted two years to recitation, under the most accomplished tragedian of antiquity. Caius Gracchus, who arrayed one half of Rome against the other, was so solicitous about the management of his voice in ad- dressing public assemblies, that a slave used to stand behind him with a small pitch-pipe, to set the prelusive note. The science of music was habitually cultivated among the Greeks and Romans, as subservient to the art of elocution. Statues were sometimes erected to distinguished Rhetoricians. In some instances, the public money was coined in their name : and their salaries frequently exceeded those of a Minister of State in modern Europe. By these facts, we are made ac- quainted with the opinions of nations who carried the art of speaking to perfection; and with the practices of the youth- ful declaimers, who became subsequently conspicuous on the theatre of public affairs. The oratory of the best Greek and Roman speakers, was, withal, eminently practical. They did not employ it for me- * Fountains of Philosophy, from which these things are de- rived. PREFACE 5 retricious display, or empty declamation, but as an instru- ment of power in the state. Its aim and its effects were to convince, to impress, and impel to action. They were lead- ers in the busiest, most enlightened, and tumultuous periods. Their voices *' shook distant thrones, and made the ex- tremities of the earth to tremble." Were these men mistaken, in estimating highly the advan- tages of an impressive delivery ? OR ARE WE, who disregard them ? Were they deficient in matter, in power of argu- ment, in the learning of their times, in the compass of their subject, in the arts of composition ? I confine the argument, for the moment, to Demosthenes and Cicero, who, by their precepts and practice, are conspicuous advocates of the ait of delivery : and I address myself to a certain class of society, who are constantly maintaining that scholarship and well exercised reasoning powers, are all that are necessary to the public speaker to the minister of the Gospel, for in- stance, whose office is at least as much with the imagination and the heart, as with the intellect I address myself to them, I say, and ask whether the great orators I have men- tioned, might not have put in a claim to exemption from the drudgery of elocution, if ever it could be safely pleaded ? Who is there among you, Gentlemen, whoever you are who have maintained this idle plea, that will venture to contra- dict these great men ? Had they not a deep sense of the value of time, and of the relative importance of their studies ? Look at their sublime devotion to their pursuit. Had they formed mistaken notions of their art ? Their unrivalled suc- cess in it, is the best answer to the question. Is it possible that they could throw away months and years in attaining an impressive delivery, unless assured of its immense impor- tance, EVEN TO THEM? Oratorical pre-eminence can be the aim of few only, but a correct and impresive elocution is desirable by all : by all, PREFACE. at least, among the educated classes of society. It is par- ticularly so in this country. Here, a learned education is sought, specially with a view to some profession, in which public speaking must be exercised. Great numbers of young men are daily entering our colleges, who are to become min- isters of the gospel, or lawyers. In this country, too, no freeman is excluded from the state and national councils ; on the contrary, talent, when combined with an emulous spirit, is naturally invited to participate in their administra- tion : to say nothing of the frequency of public meetings for municipal or beneficent purposes. Under these circum- stances, there are but few among the well informed part of the community, to whom it may not be of importance to speak with correctness, ease and impressiveness; or who, if not able to do so, must not, sometimes, painfully feel the disadvantages arising from the deficiency. Hereafter, young gentlemen of America, some of you will deeply regret your neglect of the art of delivery : when you are obliged to do that indifferently, which you might have learnt to do well : when, on some interesting occasion, (and such occasions will come,) you find you cannot fix the attention of your au- dience of the listening fair when some competitor, more happy than yourselves, casts you into shade, and leaves you nothing but the consciousness of a mortifying comparison be- tween him and you or when, seeing opportunities for ob- taining distinction, or fixing a profitable opinion in the pub- lic mind of your talents and acquirements, you are obliged to forego them, because you have despised or neglected the art of communicating your sentiments in an impressive and agreeable manner. II. It remains to refer to the following Grammar. It is not offered to the public, as a work of discovery. Two such works have appeared, within about half a century. The first to which I would allude, is Steele's Prosodia Rationa- PREFACE. 7 lis : the other is Dr. Rush's Philosophy of the Human Voice. Mr. Steele first explained the measure of speech. I have availed myself of his treatise, and of his method of scoring, as far as I found them applicable to my purpose. Mr. Steele's work was published fifty years ago ; it is origi- nal, and somewhat abstruse : but of greater practical im- portance, than, perhaps, he himself perceived. About twen- ty years after he wrote, Mr. John Thelwall, a distinguished teacher of elocution in London, began to score poetry and prose readings with his pupils, on Mr. Steele's scheme, with his pen. A book which I published some time ago, was, as far as I know, the first printed exhibition of its application. Mr. Steele appears to have been wholly unacquainted with thephiysiological considerations which account for the mea- sure of speech, and indeed demonstrate its necessity. In Dr. Rush's work, the reader may repair to a fountain, at once deep and full. A leading object of this Grammar is, to render its principles practically useful to those I am called upon to teach, and to young persons in general. I have availed myself of his mode of explanation by diagram, wherever I thought it would be useful. To what has been thus obtained, and is here acknowledg- ed, I have added whatever my own observation and industry have enabled me to collect. Above all, I have endeavored to adapt the whole to the purposes of teaching. I have treated the subject of Articulation in a manner which I pre- sume will be deemed novel ; and I consider the elementary tables, particularly the table of consonant elements, as an in- dispensable portion of the work. I would farther observe, that its object is practical, not exclusively philosophical ; but I shall be greatly disappointed, if it is not found to answer the end I have in view that of teaching the art of Elocu- tion in the most effective manner, by recurring to those ele- ments of the voice, which it is the business of philosophy to 8 PREFACE. discover, and of the philosophical teacher to apply. Some subjects treated by Dr. Rush, with great ability, I have left untouched. I consider his Section on Syllabication, one of the most luminous displays of philosophical originality and acuteness, to be found in his work ; but it did not appear in- dispensably necessary to the special object I had in view.. I take, however, this opportunity of assuring every public speaker, and every philosophical actor, who may read this preface, that he will fail in his duty to himself and his profes- sion, if he neglects a diligent perusal of Dr. Rush's " Phi- losophy of the Voice." I would remark, in conclusion, that if this Grammar con- tains a correct and comprehensive practical detail of the ele- ments of speech, Elocution, unless it is to be abandoned al- together, must be taught on the plan here enjoined. The graceful effects of speech are dependent on those uses of the voice, which can only be certainly acquired by diligent ele- mentary practice. The student's certain road to eminence is by this path alone. *' Sic itur ad astra." My whole ex- perience as a teacher, confirms me in this opinion. JONATHAN BARBER. CONTENTS. PAOE. DEDICATION, ..... : 4 1 Preface, -\ 3 Articulation,. . ' ', . . . ,> 13 Table of the Vowel. Elements of the English language, 21 Table of the Consonant Elements, ' . 3NI v 22 Particular Structure of the Vowel Elements, . .27 Explosive Power of the Vowel Elements, . -."**' 28 Of the prolongation of the Vowel Elements, . 31 Table of Consonants and Vowels, the consonants being placed first, . . ... . , . 38 Table of Vowels and Consonants, vowels placed first, 40 Table of Consonant combinations, ; * ' . K , 43 Sentences, . ,< tt ^ . . . . 47 General considerations on Quality of Voice, . . 54 General considerations on Force of Voice, . 55 General considerations on Time, , . . 56 General considerations on Abruptness, . . 57 General considerations on Pitch, . . . 58 Of the Elements of Sound which enter into the slide of the voice, when it is so managed as to give the greatest possible pleasure to the ear, , . 63 Of the slides of Speech, . > < > / : . . 66 Rising Slide, ~~r-- 67 Failing Slide, . . .^.^ .... 69 Circumflex Slides, . ^..^ ..,.,. { < * ., . . 70 Elementary exercises on the slides of the voice, . 72 !** 10 CONTENTS. Radical Pitch, . . .,>,-, 75 Particular combination of melody, arising from special difference in the radical pitch of Syllables, 76 Simple melody of Speech, . . ^ . a- 78 Full Cadence, . \W . ' ''- . .. . f 94 Transition of Voice, . , . .. . ./>-. . 95 Employment of Quantity, . . . ' ,..$' . 100 Of Plaintiveness in speech, . . ,> -.. 110 Tremor of the Voice, . . . . . 113 Force of voice under the form of Radical Stress, 117 Force of voice under the form of Vanishing Stress, 1 18 Force of voice under the form of Compound Stress, 120 Force of voice under the form of Median Stress, . 120 Aspirated movements of the voice, . . .122 Guttural Emphasis, . . . L fe 123 Accent, . .- ... . . . .^ . 123 Measure of Speech, . . h. . . 125 Emphasis, ........ 144 Examples of Emphasis with short explanations of the principal elements employed, . . . 156 Analysis of written language, . . . 160 Improvement of the voice, 170 Of the application of the vocal elements in expressing emotion, .. ,.^ 177 Drift of Voice, . . . . . . 181 Faults of Delivery, . . . . ,, . . 186 Prevalent circumstances in elegant speech, , . 194 Circumstances to be borne in mind in criticising a pub- lic speaker, v . .194 Directions to the Exercises, . . > 197 EXERCISES. Ode on the death of Thompson COLLINS, . 198 Catharina COWPER, < j ' ?> ; OQ i CONTENTS. 1 1 Adam and Eve's Hymn MILTON, , . ' . 205 Revelations, chap. v. . . . . . - 210 Ninth chapter of John, . . . . : v-. 212 Chatham's Speech on employing Indians to fight against the Americans, . . M. */.' 216 On the Being of a God YOUNG, . ...... < . 220 The Grave MONTGOMERY, . . . v . 224 The Poplar Field COWPER, . . V 228 The Rose, COWPER, . . ) . . . 227 Parable of the Prodigal Son, .... 228 The 139th Psalm, . . . . . . 231 Procrastination YOUNG, .* ' . . ' > . 232 Extract from the Task COWPER, ''. .' . 233 Milton's Sonnet to Cyriac Skinner, . . ; : 240 Milton's Sonnet on his blindnes, . . . .241 Apostrophe to Light, . . ' . 242 Cowper on his Mother's Picture, . , . *. . 245 On Sincerity TILLOTSON, . . . , 254 HyderAli, . . . . . . . 256 Fourth chapter of St. John, . . * 259 Satan calling the fallen angels, . . ^ , . 263 Marco Bozzaris, . . . . . . 265 Address to the Rainbow, . . .^ . . 268 Othello^s address to tlie Senate, . * . 270 The Ocean, Child Harold, . .' ./ . > . 273 Lord Thurlow's Speech, . . . . 277 Burke on the New-England Colonists, . ' 279 Apostrophe to the Queen of France BURKE, . 281 Gray's Elegy, . -. , . . . .- . . 283 Happiness of Temper GOLDSMITH, . . 288 Summer Evening's Meditations BARBAULD, . 293 Plunket's Speech, . .... . .. 300 Execution of the Earl of Argyle, . ... .* . 304 Thoughts in a place of worship, . . * . 308 1 2 CONTENTS. Dog and Water Lily, i.fl! . ' . ;. . . 310 The Deluge, * ... . . . i 312 Holienlinden, . '. ,mf . . . .* <:> 315 Address of Henry V. to his troops, . ' . i: . U 316 Lucy WORDSWORTH, . . Jfe* .. l>. 318 Hall's Sermon, .. \ . . *' ' 'j . 320 Addison's Hymn, . ^ / ,-v.- ! , - . . 324 Burial Service, . p.. . t v; V- 326 Antony's Oration over Caesar's Body, . - . -jfr . 329 Speech of Patrick Henry, . ^ . . . 334 The Battle of Warsaw, . . ' . -yi . ; - .. 339 Speech of Cassius, . . . '. . 3-11 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. RECITATION FIRST. ARTICULATION. A PERFECTLY accurate and distinct ARTICULA- TION, must form the basis of a good delivery. Speak- ing and reading cannot be impressive if the utterance is indistinct. Students of Elocution should therefore al- ways attend to articulation, as the primary object ; and in the first instance, it should be prosecuted alone, as a dis- tinct branch of the art, and prosecuted until perfection in it is attained. Indeed the secret of success in learning the art of de- livery, consists in attending to one thing at once. Fail- ures will always be frequent, as they ever have been, whilst it is attempted in the gross ; by the usual method of going at once to reading and declamation, and endeavour- ing to enforce articulation, emphasis, inflection, and many other things, altogether. The object of this first recitation is to lay down the elements of a distinct ARTICULATION : to present this branch of the art to the view of the learner and teacher by itself; and, in such a simple form, that the one may have a scheme of teaching, and the other a definite mode of acquiring, this preparatory and indispensable requisite of all good reading and speaking. A slight attention to public speaking, or to reading, will show that a good articulation is very uncommon. The attentive listener has to complain, that, letters, words, and, 2 14 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. sometimes, considerable portions of sentences, are pro- nounced with so little force and precision, that the mind is constantly confused in its attempts to apprehend the meaning. y Gctfiyejrfifation partakes of the defect in question. But i faults of articulation which do not strike the ear in conver- " sation', 'become, not only apparent in public speaking, and reading aloud, but, sometimes, confound the sense to such a degree, that it is difficult to collect the general meaning, much more the precise ideas, contained in what is read or spoken. If a person would have a more impressive conviction of the truth of these remarks than mere assertion can produce, let him direct his attention to the single circum- stance of the articulation, in a series of recitations at any school examination in the declamations of students at a college commencement in public readings and recitations, even by professed readers and reciters in ordinary dis- courses delivered from the pulpit, at the bar, in halls of assembly, at public meetings, or on the floor of Congress. Indeed, a faulty articulation is so extensively and gene- rally prevalent, that I have scarcely ever attended an ex- hibition of public speaking, by young persons, without hearing the language literally murdered. The defects carried from schools and colleges are but very partially re- medied in the world. Now, a speaker may be sure that an audience will never give him their attention long, if his articulation is such as to disappoint the ear and confuse the mind. Thus the very purpose for which he rises from his seat is frus- trated. ARTICULATION. 15 Distinctness of articulation is not only necessary, in or- der to be heard and understood, it is a positive beauty of delivery. The elementary sounds of speech, when properly uttered, are in themselves agreeable. But to render them so, the following directions of a modem wri- ter must be observed. " In just articulation the words are not to be hurried over, nor precipitated syllable over syllable ; nor, as it were, melted together into a mass of confusion. They should neither be abridged nor prolong- ed, nor swallowed, nor forced ; they should not be trailed nor drawled, nor let to slip out carelessly. They are to be delivered out fronj the lips as beautiful coins, newly issued from the mint ; deeply and accurately impressed, per- fectly finished, neatly struck by the proper organs, distinct, in due succession and of due weight."* A good ar- ticulation is an affair altogether mechanical. It requires nothing more than attention and continued elementary practice. It depends upon a few certain definite positions of the organs of speech , and the power of varying those positions with rapidity, precision and energy. Now though every body admits this, scarcely any one attends to it. Experience shows that in order to ensure a good ar- ticulation to persons in general, some methods must be adopted not at present in use. What should those methods be? I answer the only sure means are a SERIES OF PRACTICAL ELEMENTARY EXERCISES, which shall constitute a sort of gymnastics of the voice. These must be practiced and persevered in. If the training, the methods of which will be pointed out ^Austin's Choronomja. 16 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. in this recitation, is steadily enforced, our experience en- ables us to say, it will be successful in ensuring to young per- sons a distinct, a forcible, and an impressive articulation : if it be not adopted and steadily pursued, as a preparatory exercise, and for such a length of time as the deficiencies of individuals may require, the usual defects will continue. Reading books on elocution, and receiving directions in lectures, have been already tried long enough, and tried in vain. PRACTICE, practice upon a series of elementary tables of the primitive sounds of speech and of their varied combinations is the only remedy. We therefore advise that no pupil be ever permitted to proceed to reading or declamation, until distinctness of utterance is ensured by repeated exercises upon the sounds contained in the fol- lowing tables. Before we proceed to exhibit them, a few preparatory observations are necessary, in order to render the nature of the analysis, upon which we propose to found our in- struction, better understood. A good articulation consists in the precise, forcible and sufficiently prolonged utterance of syllables, according to an approved standard of pronunciation. Now a sylla- ble is sometimes a single indivisible sound : but sometimes it consists of several simple distinguishable sounds, into which it can be divided by the voice. If I pronounce the word MAN, it appears to a hearer unaccustomed to a scientific consideration of speech, to be one sound, not capable of division. It is evident to such person that an effort of the organs of utterance has been made, and that such effort is intentional, that it is in its nature^ like that which I make with my arm, when I intentionally ARTICULATION. 17 put it forth to lay hold of any object within my reach : that the pronunciation of the word MAN is the effect of volun- tary muscular action: that the inner part of the mouth, the tongue, and the lips have undergone an alteration dur- ing the pronunciation, in obedience to the will. But, it is hardly to be supposed he would proceed farther than this in his inquiries. The word MAN comes upon his ear as a sin- gle impulse, and is contemplated as a single and indivisi- ble sound. It is not at all to be expected that the person in question, should perceive that there are in this single word three distinct sounds. But the real order of things may be thus explained. In pronouncing the word MAN the lips are first intentionally brought together, and press- ed in a certain way against each other, and air being, at the same time, forcibly impelled from the throat, a sound is heard which somewhat resembles the lowing of an ox. This sound is the one represented by the letter M. The lips, which before were held in somewhat for- cible contact, are now separated, the mouth is opened and its cavity is put into a particular shape ; and air being again impelled from the throat during this position of the mouth the sound of A is heard, as that letter is pro- nounced in the word a-t. Finally this last sound being completed, the tip of the tongue is carried upwards from the lower part of the mouth, and pressed against the up- per gums, and roof of the mouth, and, air issuing from the throat in a forcible manner during this state of the parts, the peculiar sound appropriate to the letter N, is heard. In order to obtain a demonstration of the particulars of this description, let the word MAN be pronounced in a drawling manner, and let the process of articulation be 2* 18 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. carefully attended to during its continuance. Let the po- sition which the lips first adopt be maintained for some time, while the murmur by which the sound of M is pro- duced, is continued from the throat ; avoiding at the same time to proceed to the sound of the A: then ceasing to sound the M, let the A be next sounded alone, observing the particular shape which the mouth assumes during the sound, as well as the character of the sound itself: after this stop again, and whilst the tip of the tongue is pressed against the roof of the mouth and the upper gums, let the N be, slowly, murmured through the organs. After the three sounds of the word have thus been separately pronounced, let MAN be slowly uttered, so that each separate sound and the coalescence of them with each other, may be distinctly perceived at the same time. Now, for the purposes of science we call the three sounds, heard in the word MAN, elements; because they are the simplest possible sounds into which the word can be resolved. An element is the simplest known form of a thing : for instance, water appears to be perfectly simple ; but it can be divided into two airs, called hydro- gen and oxygen. The first of these is highly inflamma- ble, and if set fire to, burns with a bright bluish flame : the other will consume a piece of burning charcoal, if plunged into it with extraordinary rapidity, and with greater heat and brightness than are produced when the char- coal is burned in common air. We therefore say that the chemical elements of water, are hydrogen and oxygen. A vocal element is a simple sound of the voice, or a sound not capable of being farther divided. The vocal i, elements of a language consist of the simplest pos- sible sounds into which its syllables can be divided, or re- solved. The division of syllables into their elementary parts is a branch of vocal analysis. This analysis shows that the vocal elements of the English language are (including the short vowels) forty-six in number. We shall for the present retain their common division into vowels and consonants, and shall first give a table of the vowel elements. Before proceeding to do this I would observe, that I am persuaded that tables of elements, if diligently used, will be found effective in teaching very young persons a distinct and graceful articulation. This must be at once acTrnittecT by the reader, when he is informed that the for- ty-six elements exposed in our first tables do in different combinations, make up all the syllables of our language. Elements make syllables, syllables words, and words discourse. If each element which ought to be sounded in a word is distinctly formed by the organs of utterance, the word must be well pronounced, and if all the words are thus pronounced in a discourse, the articulation of such a discourse must be faultless. I should feel asha- med of urging such plain matters of fact, were it not for our extraordinary ignorance on the subject. I never yet pronounced the vocal elements of our language, in my public lectures, without exciting the mirthful wonder of the audience. Perpetually using, or, often, misusing these elements, persons in general are ignorant of their existence, as single specific sounds. I add another testi- mony to the importance of exercise on the elementary sounds. 20 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. " When the elements are pronounced singly, they may receive a concentration of organic effort, which gives them a clearness of sound, and a definite outline, if I may so speak at their extremes, that makes a fine pre- parative for a distinct and forcible pronunciation in the compounds of speech." Philosophy of the Human Voice, Sect. 47, p. 461. VOWEL ELEMENTS. 21 TABLE OF THE VOWEL ELEMENTS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. IT is to be particularly noticed, that, in using this table, the attention is to be directed to the Elementary Sounds, actually heard in the words which are placed opposite to the letters and not to the names of the letters. The same letter sometimes stands in different words for several sounds. Attend therefore to the Sounds of the Elements. which are, as the table of words shows, distinct. They are seveutejen in number. The Element is separated from the rest of the word by the horrizontal line, and is always distinguished by an italic letter or letters. 1 e as heard in the word e-rr 2 a a-11 3 o-bjeet 4 a o-ge 5 e e-dge 6 a long a-rm 7 a short a-t 8 o long o-ld 9 o short oa-ts* 10 ou ou-r 11 ee ee-1 12 i t-t 13 00 oo-ze 14 u p-M-11 15 oi b-oy 16 i-sle 17 ew b-eatt-ty As the word is frequently pronouriced. 22 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. TABLE OF THE CONSONANT SOUNDS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. IN this Table, (when the language admits of it,) one word is employed to show the consonant element at its beginning, and another to show the same element at its termination. The Element is distinguished from the other parts of the word in the same manner as in the preceding Table of Vowels. 1 b as heard in 6-ow or-b 2 d d-are ai-J 3 f /-ame i/ 4 g g-ave fa-g 5 h A-orse 7 i* j-ew k-ite Geor-ge kic-A: 8 i J-ord a-K 9 m m-an ai-m 10 n n-o ow-n 11 P p-ii t\-p 12 q ^-ueer 13r (trilled) r-ow ufr (final) wa-r 15s 5-ir hi-55 16 *-ake ha-^ 17v IM)W gi-ve 18jw W-OQ * The elements K T P are mutes. They produce such a degree of occlusion of the organs that no sound can escape until they are united with some other vowel or consonant. It will be useless there-, fore to attempt to sound them alone. CONSONANT SOUNDS. 19 20 X X as heard in (aspirate) e-a;-ample ve-x 21 y y-e 22 z z-one ad-z 23 n so-ng 24 th th-ou brea-Me 25 til (aspirate) th-umb tru-th 26 zh a-z-ure 27 wh wk-at 28 sh sh-o\v pu-sh 29 ch ch-ur-ch bir-cA The ear can clearly perceive the difference of each vocal element in 'the foregoing tables of vowels and con- sonants from each other. Each is pointed out in the word or words in which it is found by an italic letter or letters. Such letter, or letters, (where more than one stand for a vocal element,) if pronounced as usually heard in such word or words, will give the true elementary sound in question. Each vocal element, vowel and consonant, is to be exactly sounded, in the order of succession in which they are found in the tables. When no teacher is at hand to demonstrate the sounds of the elements with his voice, the following direction will lead the attentive student to a perception of them. Let each word by which the elementary sound is illus- trated in the tables, be pronounced in a very slow drawl- ing manner. During its pronunciation let special notice be taken of the position of the organs of speech, and of the particular sound produced, as the element which is the immediate subject of description, issues from the mouth. This slow drawling pronunciation is to be repeat- ed over and over again, until the element to be illustrated 24 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. is clearly distinguished by the ear from the rest of die word, and the position of organs by which it is formed can be adopted at pleasure. It is then to be pronounced alone. In this manner all the vocal elements are to be sounded, and to be sounded with such a degree of energy as to come with marked distinctness, force and fullness on the ear. This sounding of all the elements contained in the foregoing table, is to constitute the first exercise of the student of elocution ; and it is to be continued until he has acquired precision, facility, force and fullness in uttering them all : nor should he be permitted to proceed farther until this task is accomplished. When a class is formed, each individual should sound each element in his turn, from the table. Afterwards the whole class should sound them together in concert ; the teacher requiring the utmost degree of force in their utte- rance on the part of each student, and carefully watching that there is no deviation by any individual from the ap- propriate sound. A familiarity with die elementary sounds will show, 1, That the graphic characters called letters, represent two things the sounds by which they are themselves named; and also the real elementary sounds which enter into die vocal utterance of syllables: 2, That the elementary sounds heard in pronouncing syllables ought to be care- fully distinguished from the sounds which constitute the names of the letters. This distinction is important, be- cause the sounds of the names of the letters and the sounds of the elements, (for both of which letters stand as sym- bols,) are, though sometimes alike, often, entirely different. In the word A-GE, for example, the sound of the element VOWEL SOUNDS. 25 a is the same as that of the name of the letter, but this is not the case in the word A-LL. In the latter instance, a different element is expressed by the letter A : a diffe- rent one is again heard in the word A-RM. In the word which none of the sounds of the names of the letters are heard. Every language, to be perfect for purposes of speech, ought to have a vocal alphabet ; so that every elementary sound should have its own appropriate character or letter ; and these characters, and none others, should be employed in spelling : no letter being admitted into a word which is not actually sounded. As one letter is now often employed to indicate entirely different sounds, and several letters sometimes stand for a single sound, we must be careful not to suffer ourselves to be confused by the ivritten letter or letters in the words employed for the illustration of the separate elements. The sound actually heard is the thing to which we are to attend the same sound is the same element though represented (as it often is) by different letters. For ex- ample, though we represent the vowel sound heard in Jew and in the French word Dieu, by ew in the former, and ieu in the latter, we shall hear the same sound, or near- ly the same, in the word Beauty, represented by the let- ters eau. Again, if we give a shorter and quicker pro- nunciation to the element a than it has as heard in a-ge, it will be perceived by the ear to be the sound which we hear in e-dge ; and so in other cases. We make these remarks, to render the subject easy to persons to whom such inquiries are new. To many, we are aware, the considerations here presented are perfectly familiar. 3 26 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. QUESTIONS TO BE PUT TO STUDENTS AT THE END OF RECITATION FIRST. Is a syllable always a simple sound ? Can you give an example of a syllable which is a simple sound ? Can you mention a syllable consisting of three sepa- rate simple sounds ? Can you utter each of these three sounds separately ? What is meant by the term element ? What are the simple sounds of speech called ? How many vocal elements are there in the English language, including the short vowels ? Pronounce each of the vowel sounds with exactness, mentioning as you pronounce each a word beginning with that vowel. Pronounce with exactness the consonant, sounds, men- tioning a word commencing and ending with each, where the language admits of it; in other instances let the word commence or end with the element in question, according to the necessity of the case. Pronounce the mutes by placing a vowel sound before and after each, so as to show their elementary sounds. VOWEL SOUNDS. 27 UECITATIOX SECOND, PARTICULAR STRUCTURE OF THE VOWEL SOUNDS. The following Vowel Sounds, are found, on prolonging their pronunciation to be clear dipthongs. They are, nevertheless to be considered as vocal elements be- cause, though two sounds are heard in their utterance, these sounds cannot be disjoined by the voice, in pro- nouncing them. The unavoidable action of the organs of speech, is such as to present the two sounds in coa- lescence. A as in a-we, opens with the well known ele- mentary sound, but it ends with a feeble and obscure sound of e, as heard in the word e-rr. The same is true of a, as heard in the interjection ah. A in a-le changes in the progress of pronunciation to ee, as heard in ee-1, making the sound aeele, the ee being some- what feebler and more obscure than if it began a word. The same is true of t, as heard in i-ee/e, spelt i-sle. O in o-ld, goes into the feeble sound of 00, as heard in oo-ze, as O oold. The same is true of OM, as ouoor. The other vowel elements are monothongs as distin- guished from dipthongs. This minute attention to the structure of these elements is necessary in prolonging them. In doing this we shall by anticipation of the sounds into which they run, be able so to manage the voice in extending them, as to prolong them to any desirable ex- tent with a preservation of their true pronunciation. With- out it, we shall be in danger of either drawling them or abridging the time of their pronunciation. 28 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. EXPLOSIVE POWER OF THE VOWEL SOUNDS. We are about to describe a very important elementary function of the voice, which can be manifested in the ut- terance of the vowel sounds. All the vowel sounds can be exploded from the throat with great suddenness and force. The explosion appears to depend on a previous occlusion in the throat, the sound breaking forth from be- hind the occluded part. It will be effected by attention to the following directions. The explosion is to consist of a short and single act of coughing, forcibly made up- on each element. A short cough is generally made up- on the element e as heard in the word e-rr. Let the stu- dent cough out this element with as much force as possi- ble, and then let him substitute for it each of the other elements one after another, coughing in the same man- ner upon each of them, or rather coughing out their re- spective sounds. In doing this, he will exhibit that property of the voice which makes explosive stress. He may not succeed at once in displaying this function to the best advantage, but let him go on : it will come by a little time and practice. With a teacher there will be no difficulty, nor will any exist long for those who practice alone, if they belong to the class of resolute spirits, who when they do not find a way ready made, set about to make one for themselves. This sudden and very forcible utterance of the vowels, is STRESS in its most simple and elementary state, and in its highest degree. It is a function of the voice, which may be acquired by practice upon the elements, so as to VOWEL SOUNDS. ** be at the command of the speaker at any time he may wish to employ it, in the utterance of words or syllables. It is necessary to use it in reading and speaking, in various degrees, according to circumstances. We cannot now shew all the important uses to which it may be applied. The student may however, assure himself that the acqui- sition of it to a public speaker, is worth all his pains ; and that the only mode of obtaining it, is by the method of practice we have enjoined. We will notice the following important applications of stress. Vowels form the body of most syllables, and the audible and satisfactory distinctness of all short syllables, in public speaking, depends upon the degree of abrupt- ness and force with which they are exploded by the voice. The kind of stress acquired by exploding the vowels constitutes one of the forms of emphasis. This stress is also the natural symbol of great energy of feeling. But independent of emphasis, or the indication of any particular state of the feelings, if words are not marked by a due proportion of percussive or explosive stress, they will not be audible through an extensive space. Brilliancy, sprightliness, and energy of delivery, without which oratory has no existence, and which are essential to render a public speaker interesting, are dependent on a well marked and sustained stress. As, then, the power of uttering the vowels in the man- ner described, is necessary to a distinct articulation of these sounds, (especially in short syllables,) and as it is one in which even practised speakers* are very often de- I was made sensible, some years ago, by the author of the " Philosophy of the Human Voice," of my own want of sufficient 3* 30 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. ficient, a table of those elements is subjoined. When the student can explode them with effect, he may be as- sured he has obtained a mastery over one of the most important uses of his voice, as respects articulation, as well as other points of the art. When a class is to be exercised, each individual should be required to explode every element, found on the table, with the utmost degree of force, united with abruptness, which he can command; and then the whole class should pronounce them in con- cert. This practice, besides the advantages already mentioned, will be found to be a more effectual method than any other of obtaining a strong and powerful voice of strengthening such voices as are feeble, and of giving fullness and strength of tone to all in proportion to their natural capacities. The student has not obtained that use of his voice which it is the object of the table to teach him, until every sound it contains can be uttered with the. suddenness of the report of fire-arms, without any apparent effort preceding the explosion, with a very high degree of percussive force, and with strength and fullness of tone. We should per- haps add, that we greatly doubt whether persons in general will ever gain strength of voice, in any other way, than by exploding the elements : and we know that persons with feeble voices have been rendered capable of speaking forcibly and impressively in public, by a perseverance in the practice here recommended. explosive stress, and was induced, by his advice, to commence the practice here recommended. I found it completely successful in obtaining this use of the voice. VOWEL SOUNDS TABLE. IX ^ 1 e as heard in e-ir. 2 a a-11. 3 o-r. 4 a a-ge. 5 e e-dge. 6 a a-nn. 7 a a-t. 8 o-ld. 9 ou OU-T. 10 ee ee-\. 11 i i-t. 12 00 oo-ze. 13 u p-M-11. 14 oi b-oy. 15 i t-sle. UNIVERSITY OF THE PROLONGATION OF THE VOWEL ELEMENTS. Articulation is rendered distinct and impressive by a prolongation of certain vowel elements, as well as by giving diem percussive force. Many of them , can be lengthened in pronunciation, to any desirable extent without altering their distinguishing and appropriate sounds, and with an increase of their beauty and expres- siveness. In prolonging the vowel elements, the student should carefully attend to the following particulars. Their na- tural and appropriate sound is to be preserved they are to be altered only in length there is to be no drawl in their pronunciation, nor any mixture of song each is to have the character of pure speech. These several par- ticulars will be secured by attending to the following di- rections. 32 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Let the voice open upon the element with some de- gree of fullness and abruptness, let it gradually and equably diminish in volume of sound as it progresses, ending in a feeble vanish of sound into silence. This full opening and final vanish are essential to the preservation of pure speech. The prolongation of the alphabetic ele- ments is an exhibition of quantity in its most elementary state, as their explosion is of percussive stress in its sim- plest form. This mode of uttering some of the vowels ensures, by its protracted time, their contradistinguishing impression on the ear, and is besides, a beauty of delivery, the uses of which are to be hereafter more fully treated, in the consideration of the time of the voice or quantity. It is most satisfactorily demonstrated by the teacher's voice, but may be illustrated by the annexed diagram. O-oo. Supposing the element to be uttered is o, in pro- longing it, it will degenerate into the sound of 00, (as before explained,) and the diagram tapering to a point shows the gradual or rather equable decrease of the force from the opening of the element upon the ear, till it dies away in silence. Table of those Vowel Sounds which can be protracted in utterance without changing their natural expression. as in a-we. fl-ge. fl-rm. 0-ld. VOWEL SOUNDS. 33 5 6 7 8 9 10 ou ee oo oi i ew as in ow-r. ee-1. oo-ze. b-oy. t-sle. b-eaw-ty. QUESTIONS TO RECITATION SECOND. 1. Which of the vowel sounds are clear dipthongs by prolongation ? 2. Are the vowel sounds susceptible of explosion ? 3. What are the circumstances which render the ex- plosion of the vowel sounds satisfactory ? 4. What are the particular advantages of percussion in the utterance of the vowels ? 5. The student is required to explode each vowel sound. 6. By what other means than explosion can the vowels he rendered distinct and impressive ? 7. Which of the vowel sounds are susceptible of pro- longation ? 8. What are the circumstances which should attend the prolonged utterance of the vowel sounds ? 34 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUT10X. RECITATION THIRD. It is difficult, indeed impossible, to describe exactly, upon paper, the position of the organs of speech in the formation of elements. But in uttering the consonants the student will easily be led to make all the necessary obser- vations for himself, by attending to the following remarks. B. P. M. If the vowel a, as it is heard in the syllable at, be placed before each of these elements, the sounds of ab, ap, and am, will be produced. Let these syllables be slowly spoken, and the positions of the organs of speech which occur in the formation of the three consonants be retained, until they have become an object of sufficient at- tention, and the method of giving precision and force to these elements will thus become apparent. It consists simply in the power of increasing the muscular force of the parts brought into contact in their formation, and of changing rapidly from one elementary position to another. This will be evident by uttering the sounds fea, pa, wwz, with great force and in quick succession. W. Wh. Q. The first of these elements is heard in w-0 ; the second in wh-oi ; the third in ^-ueer. Let the organs be arrested upon the consonant sound, and their position will become perceptible. There is not as strong a contact of parts in the utterance of these as in that of Z>, p, m. D, J, L, and final R, are heard each in their turn at the end of the words ai-d, geor-ge, a-//, wa-r. The R which commences a word or syllable should be trilled (but by a single slap of the tongue only,) as in the word r-uin. CONSONANT SOUNDS. The special position of the organs and the degree of force exerted by them in pronouncing the elements T, Th, Th (aspirate,) Y, F, S, V, Sh, Z, Zh, X, X (aspirate,) K, G, H, Ng, Ch, may be ascertained by slowly pronouncing the words T-ale, TA-ou, TA-istle, Y-e, F-ar, S-ir, F-ale, SA-ave, Z-one, a-z-ure, ve-z, e-#-ample, &-ick, g-ag, fl-orse, si-rig, CA-urch. After slowly pronouncing all the words here put for illustration of the sounds of the con- sonant elements, let the elements be separated by the voice, from the rest of the word, for the particular pur- pose of contemplating the position of the organs of the mouth , informing them, and of thus ascertaining the means of increasing their force. Each element is separated by a horizontal line from the rest of the word, as TA-ou, &c. Though the consonant elements cannot be uttered with as much explosive force as the vowels, they are yet ca- pable of a considerable degree of it, and some of more than others. A distinct articulation requires a vigorous utterance of the consonants, as well as of the vowels. Many syllables are entirely composed of consonants, the boundaries of syllables often consist of these ele- ments, it must be evident therefore, that their forcible pronunciation must be essential to a distinct and audible utterance, through an extensive space. Indeed students may assure themselves, that if they do not exercise their voices, they will fail in their attempts to become audible, when addressing large assemblies, and that if barely au- dible, their delivery will be destitute of impressive ener- gy. On this account it will be necessary to practice the explosion of the consonant sounds alone. Let the student turn to the table and do this. 36 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. The following are those on which he is to practice : b, d, g, v, z, y, w, th (as in thou,) ng, /, m, w, r trilled, r final. The consonants, with the exception of the mutes P, T, K, can all be prolonged in utterance without altering their distinguishing sounds, as vocal elements. But when they begin words or syllables, or make a part of then), (unless where they are the terminating elements of such words and syllables,) they seldom admit of prolongation. If they are prolonged improperly die pronunciation is dis- agreeable and affected. Many persons, nevertheless, un- consciously, acquire habits of this affected articulation. They will pronounce the word man almost as if it were written uniman, (giving somewhat of the feeble sound of e, as heard in the word e-rr to the M, and dwelling on the sound of the m.) Again they speak the word no, almost as if written unno : swim as if written sooim : pluck as if written pulluck, cc. We subjoin a table of the elements, most commonly mispronounced in the manner described, and recommend the pupil to sound them once in the pro- longed and affected manner, which it is desirable to avoid. Students at college are apt to acquire the habit we have been describing. It is not unfrequent in the pulpit, and is often heard on the stage. Dr. Rush gives the following instance of the mispronunciation of a distin- guished actor. " Canst thou not m-inister to a m-ind diseased, P/-uck from the m-emorya r-ooted sorrow." The effect of this mode of pronunciation will be de- monstrated to the ear, by giving the true elementary sounds in the table with considerable prolongation. CONSONANT SOUNDS. 1 b 2 d 3 f 4 g 5 6 i 7 m 8 n 9 q 10 r 11 V 12 w 13 y 14 z 15 h TABLE. as in Z-ight. m-an. n-o. ^-ueer. p-r-ay. v-ale. w-oe. y-ours. 2-one. A-ang. Some of the consonants, however, occasionally re- quire to be lengthened when they occur as the termina- ting elements of words and syllables. The following is a table of those which most frequently require prolonga- tion, in order to give a very distinct articulation and an emphatic or a solemn expression to the words or sylla- bles whioh they thus terminate. 6-old. rf-eign. /-ather. ^-ather. b d 1 m n n g r v z TABLE. as in OT-b. a-tt. ar-m. OW-/1. wa-r. ama-z-e. 38 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. When two elements having the same sound occur, they cannot both be uttered without making a pause be- tween them. Where the elements are duplicated, if they admit of it, one is prolonged as in a//eviate annihilate immediate. If the element is a mute or necessarily short, there is a perceptible stop to be made after it, as in at-tend ap-pear, &c. This stop is not however, to be so long as to produce affectation. To avoid this the pro- longation or pause must not be extended farther than is necessary to absolute distinctness. This may be insured in the articulation under these circumstances without pe- dantry. TABLE OF CONSONANTS AND VOWELS : THE CONSONANTS BEING PLACED FIRST. The following consonant sounds which are all aspirates should never be prolonged beyond what is necessary to distinct articulation,/, 5, A, wh, th, sh, ch. The student should exercise himself in uttering these alone, and in putting a sudden stop to the sound of each of them, the instant it has distinctly impressed the ear. TABLE. CONSONANTS. VOWELS. 1 b 1 e as in e-rr. 2 d 2 a a-11. 3 f 3 o o-r. 4 g 4 a a-ge. 5 h 5 e e-dge. 6 i 6 a a-rm. CONSONANT AND VOWEL SOUNDS. 39 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 LNTS. VOWELS. k 7 a as in -t. 1 8 o-ld. m 9 o oa-ts. n 10 ou ow-r. P 11 ee ee-1. q 12 i t-t. r 13 oo oo-ze. s 14 u p-M-11. t 15 oi b-oy. V 16 i t-sle. w 17 ew b-eau-ty y z th th(aspir't) wh sh ch A few specimens of the sounds heard in the junction of some of these consonants and vowels, are here given as examples of the mode of uniting all the elements in practising on this table. I. II. III. IV. bah. fee. lie. pou-r. V. VI. VII. too. ye. shah. No. I. of the above sounds is effected by uniting No. 1 of the consonant table with No. 6 of the vowel : No. II. by uniting No. 3 of the consonant table with No. 1 1 of the vowel : No. III. by uniting No. 8 of the conso- nant table with No. 16 of the vowel ; No. IV. by uniting No. 11 of the consonants with No. 10 of the vowels : No. V. by uniting consonant No. 15 with vowel No. 13 : 40 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. No. VI. by uniting No. 18 with 11 : No. VII. by uniting No. 23 with No. 6. In the use of the foregoing table let every consonant (except the mutes and aspirates) be considerably protract- ed, and then exploded without pause upon every vowel, the vowels not being protracted more than is necessary to their simple articulation. Let the mutes &, p, t, be ex- ploded with force upon each vowel. Afterwards let each consonant (except the mutes) be shortened as much as possible and exploded upon the vowels, the vowel sounds (with the exception of the short ones) being lengthened as much as possible in their articulation. This exercise will familiarise the ear with their sounds and will shew what may be, and what ought to be done in pronouncing them. TABLE OF VOWEL AND CONSONANT SOUNDS: THE VOWELS BEING PLACED BEFORE THE CONSONANTS. Their union will make the compounds which are to furnish the exercises of this table. TABLE. VOWELS. as in CONSONANTS. . 3 c-rr. 1 b o-ll. 2 d o-r. 3 f a-ge. 4 g e-dge. a-rm. 5 6 i TOWEL AND CONSONANT SOUNDS. 41 VOWELS. 7 a as in a-t. 8 o-ld. 9 o oa-ts. 10 ou OH-r. 11 ee ee-1. 12 i i-t. 13 00 oo-ze. 14 u p-M-11. 15 oi b-oy. 16 i i-sle. 17 ew b-eaw-ty CONSONANTS. 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 1 m n P r s t v x z n g th sh ch VOWELS. CONSONANTS. SOUNDS Union of No. 7 with No. 1 make ab. 10 13 out. 1 10 up. 12 3 if' 17 12 use. 1 11 err. 3 4 og. Directions for the use of the foregoing Table. 1. Let each of the long vowels be protracted as much as possible, in combination with b, d, g, J, m, n, ng, r, v, which are also to be protracted as much as possible, as awb, aid, ow'd, &c. 2. Let each of the short vowels be sounded with b, d, g, I, m, n, ng, r, v, giving the utmost prolongation to the consonants, as, a-&, a-d, 0-6, e-d, &c. 4* 42 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION'. 3. Let the long vowels be sounded with/*,y, k, p, s 9 t, v, #, Z 9 th, shj ch, giving as much prolongation as possible to the vowels, but not more than is necessary for distinct- ness to the consonants. 4. Let the short vowels be united with the last named consonants, let as much explosive force as possible be given to the syllables made by the junction, without more than usual protraction of either vowels or consonants. The practice upon these tables may be thought by the indolent somewhat irksome ; but the diligent student may assure himself that more is not required than he will find substantially useful in familiarizing his ear with the real sounds of his language, in giving him an intimate knowledge of their vocal capacity, and in obtaining a forcible and precise action of the organs of speech in the pronunciation of syllables. COMBINATIONS OF CONSONANT ELE- MENTS. As the greatest obstacles to a distinct articulation oc- cur in the pronunciation of the consonant elements, we proceed to construct a table of those elements in combi- nation with each other. We do this because it is in giv- ing precision and full force to each elementary sound, and in effecting the difficult and rapid changes which the utterance of a succession of these consonants require, that a principal difficulty of articulation consists. Exer- cise in every kind of combination is therefore the proper remedy for an indistinct utterance. All the mere direc- tions in the world, whether found in books or out of them, CONSONANT SOUNDS. 43 will be of no avail : and if this grammar is to be useful, it will be so because it has deviated from the common track by insisting upon practice upon the elements : be- cause it leaves nothing to the student ; but puts before him, in black and white, a series of exercises which he is to practice with his voice, and which he is to practice, let it be repeated, until the one particular branch of the art over which it is the object of such exercises to give him a complete mastery, is attained. The articulation, in the use of these tables will, per- haps, at first, be somewhat stiff and formal ; as the teacher ought to insist on the exact pronunciation of every ele- ment contained in them in the order in which they are found : but if the organs of speech are diligently and perseveringly exercised in these difficult combinations, they will, by degrees, acquire facility as well as precision, grace as well as force : and in the end distinctness and ease will be united and permanently secured. Exact- ness and grace go together in other gymnastic exercises, in fencing, in riding, in boxing ; why should they not also be the result of the nobler gymnastics of the voice. TABLE OF CONSONANT SOUNDS. IN COMBINATION. Bd. bdst. bl. bid. bldst. biz. list, br. bs. bst. bz. asm a-ble, trou-Wd, trou-WJV, trou- pes, trou-bVst. 6r-and. ri-fo, rob-b'st. pro-fces. 44 GRAMMAR O F ELOCUTION. dl. did. dh, dlst. dr. dz. dth. dths. fd.fdst. fl.fld.fltt.flx. fs.fst. ft.fti.ftit. gd. gdst. gl. gld. glz gist. f z.git. jd. kd. Id. kid. klz. klst. kldst. kn. knd. knz. knst. kndst. kr. ks. kst. ib. Ibd. Ibz. Id. Idz. Idst. If.lfs.lft. lk.lkd.lks.lkt. Vets. Im. Imd. Imz. In. Ip. Ips. Ipst. Is. 1st. It. Itz. Iv. hd. Ivz. Iz. hh. Ishd. as in can-die, ban-drd, can-dies, fon- dVst. dr-ove. dee-ds. brea-dth, brea-dths. ree-fd, ree-fd'st. fl-ame, tri-fl'd, tri-fl'*t, iri-fles. fr-ame. [au-ghs, \au-gWst. wa-ft, \va-fts, } brag-ged, bra^-g^st. gl-ow, bag-gled, man-gles, inan- gl'st. pT-ave. un-c/e, tin-c/'rf, truc-kles, \ruc-kFst, truc-AWV. cr-oney. thin-A:*, tinn-Vst. e-lbe, bu-lb'd, bu-lbs. bo-Id, bo-Ids, bo-ld'st. e-lf, e-lfs, de-lft ware. )u-lge. m-lk, mi-lk'd, si-Iks, mu-lct, mu-lcts. -Im, vibe-lm'd, \vbe-lms. a-lln. \e-lp, be-lps, be-lp'st. a-lse, fa-lVst. e-lt, ba-lts. ;he-Zre, she-/t>W, e-lves. fi-Wi, CONSONANT SOUNDS. 45 Ith. Iths. as in ea-ftA, healths. md. Yito-mb'd. mf. u-wpA-ry. mt. mtz. Ite-mpt, atte-mpte. mz. mst. o-mbs, ento-mb'st. nd. ndz. ndst. -nd, ba-ncfo, se-nd'st. nj. njd. &-nge, ra-n^'c?. nk. nks. nkst. n-nk, thi-wA:s, thi-wA:'5^. nt. ntst. ntz. Q-nt, wa-nt's^, wi-nts. nz. -ns. nsh. nshd. i-nch, fli-wcAW. mt. wi-nc'd. ngd. ba-n^'rf. ngz. o-ngs. ngth. ngths. pi. pld. plz. tte-ngth, stie-ngths. pl-uck, rip-pled, Tip-pies, rip- plst. pVst. pr. pr-zy. ps. pst. c\i-ps. nip-pV. rb. rbd. rbz \e-rb, ba-r6W, he-r65, ba-r6'st, rbst. rbdst. \)&-rb'd > st. rd. rdz. rdst. 3a-rrf, ba.-rds, hea-r^Tst. rf- rft. su-rf, wha-rf d. rg. rgz. rj. rjd. ba-rge, u-rg'd. rk. rkt. rkz ha-r^, bz-rk'd, a-ra, ba-rA:'^, rkst. rktst. ba-rA:Ws^. rl. rid. rlz sna-r/, hu-rl'd, sna-r/5, sna-r/'*^, rlst. rldst. snz-rVd'st. rm. rmd. rmz. a-rm, a-rwW, a-nn*, wrist, rmst. rmdst. a-rm > d ) st. rn.rnd.rnt.rnz.i bu-rn, bu-rn'c?, bu-rn^ , u-rn*, rnst. rndst. ea-rn's^, ea.-rri'd'st. rp. rpd. rpz. ha-rp, ha-rp'rf, ha-rp. rs. rst. rsts. hea-r*e, fea-r'*^, bu-r*te. rt. rts. rtst, hea-rt, hea-r^, hu-rt'st. 46 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. rv. rvd. rvz. as in cu-rve, cu-rv'd, cu-rves, cu-rv'st, rvst. rvdst. cu-rv'cFst. rx. rxt. io-rks, msi-rk'st. rz. e-rrs. rch. rcht. sea-rcA, sea-rcAW. rsh. ha-rA. rth. rths. hea-r^A, hea-r^A*. sh. shd. *A-ip, pu-^A'df. 3k. skd. sks ma-^A;, ma-sk'd, ma-sks ma- skst. sk'st. si. sld. */-ay, ne-s-l-Fd. sm. 5m-oke. sn. *w-ail. sp. sps. sp~a, whi-*p*. tt. str. sts. st-arve, str-ons., \)u-sts. th. thd. thz. |*A-ine, \vrea-W, H-v'd'st. vl. vld. viz. vlst. sw-vel, dn-veVd, dri-vels, dri-vel'st, vldst. dri-vel'd'st. vn, dri-ven. vz. i-ves. vst. i-v'st. zl. zld. zlz. muz-zle, muz-zVd, muz-zles, muz- zlst. zldst. zl'st, muz-zfd'st. zm. zmz. pa-sw, spa-sms. zn. znd. znz. m-so7i, imprison V, ipri-sons, im- znst. zndst. ipri-son'st, impri-son'd'st. cht. fet-cAW, CONSONANT SOUNDS. 47 Before the student proceeds to reading and declama- tion, we recommend that he should exercise himself upon the following short sentences. They are selected for the purpose of giving facility and precision of articulation in the use of the combinations in the foregoing tables ; and some of the most difficult combinations are frequently repeated in them. And surely never lighted on this orb, which she hard- ly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. Burke. The evening was fine and the full orb'd moon shone with uncommon splendor. Till that a capable and wide revenge swallow them up. Shakspeare. He was incapable of a mean or questionable action. He was amiable,* respectable, formidable, unbearable, intolerable, unmanageable, terrible. He was branded as a traitor. Thou proUst my wound, instead of healing it. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide. But Ruth clave unto her. Create a soul under the ribs of death. Gentlemen may cry peace. Can you say crackers, crime, cruelty, crutches. It was an affair of pic-nicks. It was the act of all the acts of government the most objectionable. * The syllables, ble, pie, c/e, &c. are hardly ever pronounced at the end of long words with sufficient distinctness and force, to be heard through an extensive space. 48 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. The government of England is a mixed government. The spm-dk and the loom. We saw on the road, large droves of cattle. His deeds speak his praise. The breadth thereof was ten cubits. What thou wouldst highly, that wouldst thou holily. They next reef'd the top-sails. If I quench thee thou flaming Minister. A frame of adamant a soul of fire. No dangers fright him and no labors tire. He laughs at me. Thou look'st from thy throne in the clouds, and laugh' st at the storm. He begged pardon for having troubled the house so long. The glow-worm shows the matin to be near. The table groans beneath its burthen. Arm it with rags a pigmy straw will pierce it. Thou wagg'st thy tongue in vain. He was hedged in on every side. Racked with whirlwinds. Well done said my uncle Toby. Victory will weaken the enemy. Think 1 st thou so meanly of my Phocion. Where does the river Elbe arise ? We frequently saw the elk in our journey. Cry hold, hold. The wolf, whose howl's his watch. I prefer the elm to the oak. FalVnJaWnJaWnJaWn, faWn from his high estate. There was no help for it. SENTENCES. 49 He watch'd and wept, he felt and prayed for all. If this were a wilfully false accpunt of Mr. Hastings, the author deserves the severest punishment. It was a species of calx which he shewed me. Halls of Assembly. The \vordjilch is of doubtful derivation. Then if thou faWst, O ! Cromwell, thou faWst a blessed martyr. Health is indispensible to the soldier. Those who lie entombed in the public monuments. The attempt, and not the deed, confounds us. The tombs of our ancestors. But truth and liberty and virtue, would fall with him. The song began from Jove. Do you mean plain or playing cards ? The range of the vallies is his pasture. He was the first ambassador sent from Colombia. Swords and pens were eagerly employed in its de- fence. I do uot flinch from the argument. He never winced for it hurt not him. Mind you do not singe your gown. Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow. Nipt in the bud. Thou found'st me poor at first and keep'st me so. The green herb was his food. We constructed an arc, and began our voyage without delay. The 1 234 56 789 1011 12 13 1415 The horizontal line drawn above represents the strings of the violin, the black dots the points, places, or degrees at which it is to be pressed to produce certain sounds. From 1 to 7 constitutes the series of sounds called the scale, each rising above the other. To this series of seven sounds a second series may be added of the same number, beginning immediately above the first; each sound in such second series bearing the same relation in pitch to every other sound in that series, which the cor- responding sound bears to every other in the first series. The letters put between the supposed places of sound represent the terms Tone and Semitone. Tone means a certain distance (mathematically determined) between the sounds ; Semitone means about half that distance. Musical instruments in general, such as the piano forte, organ and others, produce only discrete sounds, or such a succession of sounds as is here represented. The vio- lin and other stringed instruments can produce both con- GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 61 crete and discrete sounds. The human voice produces both. Each sound of the scale is called a note. The dis- tance between any two notes, whether next to each other, or more distant, is called an interval. The interval from 1 to 2 is called a tone, from 2 to 3 a tone, from 3 to 4 (being about half the distance) a semitone, from 4 to 5, from 5 to 6, and from 6 to 7 are tones, from 7 to 8 a semi- tone. The intervals are named numerically, that is, the interval from 1 to 2 is called a second, from 1 to 3 a third, from 1 to 4 a fourth, from 1 to 5 a fifth, from 1 to 6 a sixth, from 1 to 7 a seventh, from 1 to 8 an octave. The intervals rise from 1 to 2, 1 to 3, 1 to 4 and so on, and fall in the. same reverse order. Though the first i seven sounds make up what is called the scale, the ear requires in order to form a satisfactory close, that the first of the second series, marked 8 and called the octave, (as before stated,) should be added, in running the voice up- wards or downwards, in the order of the scale, or in what is called in musical science solfaing. The first note of any series of sounds is called the key note. The succes- sion of the seven notes above described is called the natu- ral scale, because that succession is satisfactory to the J ear. It is also called the Diatonic scale from Dia by or through, and Tonos a sound. The term melody (as ap- plicable to speech) in this Grammar, means the condition of single sounds and the order of successive sounds as respects the pitch. Concrete melody means the pitch of the slides of speech. Discrete melody the pitch at which successive syllables begin relatively to each other. Into- nation means the management of the voice in the produc- tion of pitch both concrete and discrete. 02 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. QUESTIONS. 1 . How is Elocution defined ? 2. What is meant by quality of voiee ? 3. What are the most important properties of the voice with regard to quality? 4. What is meant by force of voice? 5. How are degrees offeree expressed? 6. What is meant by the time of the voice ? 7. How are the varieties of time expressed ? 8. What is the meaning of quantity as applied to the voice ? 9. Give an example of long quantity. 10. Give an example of short quantity. 11. What is the meaning of abruptness as applicable to the voice ? 12. How is pitch defined ? 13. What is meant by the musical scale? 14. What are the particular modifications of pitch in speech ? 1 5. How are the degrees of pitch measured ? 16. How are the sounds of the scale produced? 17. What is a note? 18. What is the meaning of interval ? 19. What is the meaning of a tone? 20. What is a -semitone? 21. What are the different intervals of the scale called ? 22. What is the key note ? 23. What is the meaning of the term melody ? 24. What is concrete melody? 25. What is discrete melody ? 26. What is meant by Intonation ? RADICAL AND VANISH OF SPEECH. G3 RECITATION FIFTH. Of the, Elements of Sound which enter into the concrete slide of the voice, when it is so managed as to give the greatest possible pleasure to the ear. WE shall employ the letter / for the purpose of illustra- ting the slide of the voice. That element (as before stated) is a dipthong; being compounded of the opening sound of the element, and the obscure one of ee as heard at the beginning of the word E-ve, upon which latter sound it dies away into silence. If / be properly uttered alone in a deliberate but natural manner, as it would be in the sentence " / acknowledge him as my friend" it will open with some degree of abrupt fullness, will gradually lessen in volume as it proceeds, will terminate in a deli- cate vanish and will rise in pitch a tone or second during its slide. The circumstances to be displayed in this pro- cess and worthy of notice as elements of sound are, the force and fullness of the opening the equable lessening of volume, the gradual change of sound from the opening pan of the element into the obscure sound of ee the ex- tended quantity the final termination of the progressively diminishing sound in a fine vanish upon the ee together with the rise in pitch through the interval of a tone. The circumstances to which exclusive attention is next to be directed, are, the opening fullness, the gradually di- minishing volume, and the final vanish. The contrast of the two extremeties of the element, as to force or volume of voice, induced Dr. Rush, the ingenious discoverer of these circumstances, to give the name of radical, to the first part of the element, and vanishing movement to the second, 64 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. and he calls the whole movement which has been de- scribed a radical and vanishing tone. The terms need never confuse the mind; the radical, means the beginning of a syllable, while the vanish is employed to express its termination. This gradually lessening volume of sound upon syllables and exquisite vanish with which they ter- minate, contrasted with their opening fullness, are circum- stances which show the superiority of the human voice over all instruments. The full manifestation of the radi- cal and vanish in the management of the slides of long quantity, or in other words, in the utterance of long sylla- bles, in speaking, reading, and recitation, is in the highest degree captivating to the ear and is what gives smoothness and delicacy to the tones of the voice. In short sylla- bles,the difference of the radical and vanish is perceptible though not so obvious. If the voice is destitute of the vanishing property it will sound coarse, harsh and heavy. On this account much practice ought to be insisted upon in order to acquire these agreeable elements of die slide of speech. We therefore subjoin a table containing a certain num- ber of alphabetic sounds, upon which it is important to exercise the voice with persevering assiduity. Under the head of quantity we shall subjoin a table of words, but the function described should be practised in the first place on alphabetic sounds. The long vowels shew the properties of the voice just described, in the best manner. Their opening can be rendered abrupt and full, their quantity can be extended ; they display the lessening volume of the voice, its final vanish, and change of pitch during its sli.de more obviously than any other elements. RADICAL AND VANISH OF SPEECH. Let the elements in the following table be sounded as often as is necessary to acquire a full command over the use of the voice above described. TABLE. 1 a as in a-we. 2 a a-rm. 3 a a-ge. 4 i i-sle. 5 o-ld. 6 ou OM-r. 7 00 oo-ze. 8 ee ee-1. 9 oi b-oi/. The subjoined diagram may furnish a more obvious view of ihe process. A, the opening fullness, B, progressing quantity with diminishing vol- ume. C, vanishing point. The following consonants will display the property of the voice we have described, though not so perfectly as the vowels. 1 b 6 m 9 d 7 n 3 g 8 r final 4 5 ng 9 10 v z This subject will be resumed as respects syllables un- der the head of quantity. 6* 66 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. OF THE SLIDES OF SPEECH. We stated that the letter / if sounded in a natural manner in the sentence, " / acknowledge him as my friend," rises a tone or second during its pronunciation. This may be proved by the use of the musical scale, thus. Let the letter be sounded with extended quantity, and let force be applied at its extremity so as to make the sound of the ee, (otherwise obscure,) very conspicuous, maintaining in all other respects the pronunciation the element had in the above mentioned sentence. If its two extremes be now compared, it will be seen that the end is a second higher than the beginning of the sound. The existence of a rising third,* fifth, and octave, and of the same falling concrete intervals, may be demon- strated in a similar manner upon the element /. The following is a scale shewing the intervals of the different slides. -<- * Though the sounds of the natural or diatonic scale are dis- crete and are produced by omitting the mewing sound formerly described as issuing from the string of the violin, yet the term concrete interval may be properly enough employed to mark the distance between the commencement and the termination of the slides of speech when they strike those points of the scale at which the discrete sounds are heard : and a concrete movement, with a full r ecollection of its nature may be hereafter denominated a concrete interval of a second, third, fifth, and octave, or a semitone : and the slides through these intervals may be called notes of speech. EI.ING.LIOE. Let the lines in this scale, and the spaces between them . be the places occupied by the notes. When measuring the intervals of these notes let these lines and spaces be counted in succession, thus, line 1 space 2, line 3 space 4, and so on, whether we are counting upwards or down- wards. The first figure of the scale commencing on line 1, and reaching into space 2, represents a rising slide of a second, the second figure a rising third, the third a rising fifth, the fourth a rising octave. The remaining figures represent in the order in which they appear on the scale a falling second, third, fifth and oc- tave. The intervals here enumerated are the only ones (with the exception of the semitones,) requiring atten- tion in the science of speech ; the slides of a fourth, sixth, and seventh, will therefore not be regarded in this grammar. The slide of a second upwards and downwards may be called the simplest slide of speech, while the others increase in intensity in proportion to the extent of the interval. Popular methods of determining the pitch of the slides of the voice, by the meaning or expression they convey. 1. RISING SLIDE. It is not absolutely necessary to be acquainted with music in order to determine the nature of the slides used in speech or to be able to apply them correctly in discourse. Let the following sentence be uttered in a very deliberate manner, and with a perfectly distinct enunciation. " As soon as / arrived, he conducted me to his house." Let particular attention be given to the 68 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. sound of the l P. Then let that part of the sentence ending with 1 1 1 and including it, be uttered without the remaining portion, the voice breaking off after uttering that word, with the intonation a person would naturally employ, who was going to speak the whole sentence, but who was suddenly interrupted at the moment he had com- pleted the described section, " As soon as I :" the ' /' will in this case be found to have the rising slide of a second. Let the * /' be next pronounced alone with the same slide it had in the superscribed section of the sen- tence ; and the rising second cannot be mistaken after- wards. It is to be noticed that the intonation is such as to leave the ear in a state of suspense, and, (though the voice actually ceases,) to apprise the mind that all has not been said that was to be expected. Let it be farther remarked, that the ' P conveys no expression of empha- sis, of emotion, or of interrogation, nothing more than the simple notion inseparable from the sound. More intensive slide of a third. Let the following sentence next be uttered as it would naturally be if the answer yes or no were expected to it ; all earnestness or emotion being excluded. " Did he say it was / that did it ?" If the question be so spoken as to convey merely the idea of simple enquiry, such as would require the answer " yes or no" or "he said it was you," the * /' will have the rising slide of a third. Intense slide of a fifth. But if the question be asked with some surprise, and with strong emphasis on the '/' that syllable will have the rising slide of a fifth. " Did he say it was 1 ?" FALLING SLIDE 69 More intense slide of an octave. Let the emphasis be rendered still stronger upon the ' /,' and let the interro- gation be rendered still more piercing and expressive of excessive surprise, and the slide will reach through the rising octave. Children and females whose emotions are particularly lively, frequently ask a question with the in- tense piercing slide of the octave. 2. FALLING SLIDE. Simple falling slide. If the imaginary sentence, " Good evening Mr. I." be uttered with the natural fall which the voice always assumes at the end of a common sentence, and without the least emphasis on the ' I ' con- veying an expression of antithesis, that word will display the falling slide of a second. If the sentence ' He said it was /' be uttered with just such a degree of emphasis as will place the * /' in antith- esis with you (understood,) it will exhibit the falling slide of a third. Intense downward slide upon the ' /.' Let the empha- sis be made so strong as to express a considerable de- gree of positiveness upon that word, and the slide will fall through a concrete fifth. He said it was '/' [not you.~\ Most intense downward slide. Let the highest de- gree of dictatorial positiveness and energy be now given to the ' P and it may be made to reach the downward octave during its pronunciation. If a syllable be uttered with a plaintive expression it will have the slide of the semitone. In solfaing on the 70 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. common scale, a plaintive expression is constantly heard when the third and fourth, or seventh and eighth notes are sounded in immediate succession ; and if the voice slide through the concrete interval of a semitone it will have a plaintive expression, whether it ascends or descends. The converse is true, or, in other words, whenever a plaintive expression is heard in speech the voice moves through the slide of a semitone. Let a plaintive or mournful expression be given to the word /, but to no other, in the following sentence, and that word will exhibit die rising slide of a semitone, the contrast of which with the slides of a tone, upon each of the other syllables, will be very striking. " / will be a good boy." Let the word " boy" be rendered plaintive or mournful with a fall of the voice, and it will show the falling slide of the semitone. CIRCUMFLEX SLIDES OR WAVES OF THE VOICE. THE voice may rise and fall in its slide upon the same syllable. This rise and fall is called a Wave. If there are only two parts to the wave, that is, if the voice rises and falls only once in its slide, such rise and fall are called a single wave. If there are three parts and not more, that is, if the voice rises and falls and rises again, or falls and rises and falls again upon the same syllable the slide is called a double Wave. If there are more parts than three, the wave is called a continued Wave. If the rise and fall of the voice on a wave are through CIRCUMFLEX SLIDES. 71 the same interval, it is called an equal wave. If it rises first and then falls it is called a direct equal wave. If it falls first and then rises, an inverted equal wave. If the inter- val of the rise and fall of the voice upon a wave is not the same, it is called an unequal wave. If it rises first and then falls, a direct unequal wave : if it falls first and then rises, an inverted unequal wave. See Philosophy of the Human Voice. EXAMPLES. "Hail! holy Light." If the word " hail" is uttered with long quantity with a perceptible downward ending, and without any emphasis except that which arises from its prolongation, it will show the direct equal wave of the second. " High on a throne of royal state." If this sentence is uttered with extended quantity it will show the inverted equal wave of the second on the syllables " high," " throne," " roy." " I said he was my friend." If this sentence is deliberately uttered, with very long quantity upon the " my" and an exclusive emphasis imply- ing that the person spoken of was not your friend that word will show the direct equal wave of a third. If the answer is " your friend" and the word " your" is uttered with very long quantity, with a slight degree of surprise and an interrogatory emphasis, it will show the inverted equal wave of the third. If the sentence is reiterated " I said he was my friend," with a strongly positive emphasis on the "my," together with very long quantity, the direct equal wave of the fifth will be heard. 72 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. By increasing the emphasis of surprise and making the interrogation more piercing, together with extended quan- tity upon the word "your" in the sentence, "your friend," accompanied with the former example, the inverted wave of the fifth will be heard. " I said he was my friend." If the word " my" is ut- tered with a strongly taunting and at the same time posi- tive expression, that word will show the unequal direct wave. If the word " your," in the sentence "your friend," is coloured strongly with scorn and interrogation, it may be made to show the inverted unequal wave. Practical Remark. The degree of scorn will be in- creased by adding force to the wave ; and will bear a pro- portion to the extent and inequality of the slides which constitute it. The wave of the semitone remains to be mentioned. If suspensive quantity together with a plaintive expression is put upon the words " poor" and "old" of the following sentence they will display the direct wave of the semi- tone. " Pity the sorrows of a poor old man." The word " man" may be made to display the inverted wave of the semitone by making it plaintive, with long quantity, and causing the voice to fall upon the second part of the wave. ELEMENTARY EXERCISES ON THE SLIDES OF THE VOICE. As a command over these elements of the voice is of the utmost consequence, and as the power of making the CIRCUMFLEX SLIDES. 73 deeper downward slides at will, is possessed by few per- sons, we subjoin a table of alphabetic sounds for exercise, and we recommend diligent practice upon them. Let the rising and falling slides of a second, third, fifth and octave be each in their turn shown upon the following elements : also the direct and inverted equal and unequal waves described above. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 a a a o ou ee oo oi ew as in TABLE. fl-11. 11 b a-ge. 12 d a-rm. 13 g o-ld. 14 OU-T. 15 m ee-L 16 n oo-ze. 17 n s b-oy. 18 r i-sle. 19 v b-ecm-ty. 20 z I conclude this display of the slides of speech by re- commending a diligent practice upon the elementary ta- ble. These slides give conspicuous expression to sylla- bles. The downward slide is (as will be seen hereafter) one of the most striking means of emphasising words, of expressing positiveness of conviction, indignant resolution, and other affections of the mind, which cannot be con- veyed by mere writing, and of which the voice alone holds the true symbols. A discriminating perception of the difference of these respective elements of the voice, and a full command over them will be best attained by the tabular exercises here enjoined. They should be frequently repeated, and not abandoned until the objects for which they are instituted are accomplished. 74 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. QUESTIONS TO RECITATION FIFTH. 1. What are the circumstances worthy of attention in the consideration of the slide of speech ? 2. What is meant by the radical and vanishing move- ment ? 3. Let it be demonstrated in sounding the alpha betic elements contained in page 65. 4. A demonstration is required I. of a rising slide of a second ; II. of a third; III. of a fifth ; IV. of an octave ; V. of the falling slide of a second ; VI. of a third ; VII. of a fifth ; Vffl. of an octave. 5. The student is required to draw on a black board, and explain, a diagram, shewing these slides. 6. The student is required to give an instance of the rising slide of a semitone, of a falling slide of the same. 7. How is a rising second popularly distinguished from a rising third ? 6. How is a third distinguished from a fifth ? 9. How is a fifth distinguished from an octave ? 10. How is a falling second known ? 1 1. How is a falling third distinguished ? 12. How is a falling fifth known ? 13. How is a falling octave known ? 14. The student is required to give an instance I. of the direct equal wave of the second ; II. of a third ; III. of a fifth ; IV. of an inverted equal wave of a second ; V. of a third ; VI. of a fifth ; VII. of a direct unequal wave ; VTQ. of an inverted unequal wave ; IX. of a wave of the semitone. 15. The student is required to demonstrate these va- ried intervals on the superscribed table alone, or in class. RECITATION SIXTH. RADICAL PITCH. WE have now given an account of the slides of speech, and have shown the method of determining the pitch of any slide, or in other words the distance in point of pitch from its commencement to its termination ; and we have seen that the expression conveyed is invariably effected by the extent of the slide. The student now perceives that the change of pitch in the slide, is strictly concrete and takes place during a single impulse. We are now to speak of pitch and its varieties as deri- ved from a comparison of different impulses. Now in comparing the pitch of different syllables with each other, the comparison is of a series of successive impulses, and in estimating their relative pitch, we must disregard their slides and compare them with each other exclusively, at their commencing points. We thus ascertain the discrete pitch of syllables with reference to each other. The be- ginning of a syllable always makes a greater impression on the ear, than the part of the slide which follows. This is best proved by sounding one of the long vowels. If a, i, or o, be opened with fullness and distinctness, and be uttered with smoothness and extended quantity, it will be perceived that the volume of the voice lessens, (as we have before observed) during the slide, and that it ends in a delicate vanish at the termination of the syl- lable where sound and silence may be said to meet. This lessening volume of sound takes place in the utterance 76 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. of short syllables, but owing to their shortness it is not as perceptible. This difference of the opening and termin- ation of syllables it was, which induced Dr. Rush to call the one the radical and the other the vanishing part of the syllable, and in our future remarks when we refer to the pitch at which syllables BEGIN as compared with other syllables, we shall employ the term RADICAL pitch to distinguish it from the pitch of their respective slides or concrete pitch. In considering the combinations of Me- lody arising from the difference in the radical pitch of syllables, we shall consider each syllable, in the examples, as having the rising slide of a tone, except when other- wise specified. Particular combinations of Melody arising from special differences in the radical pitch of syllables. When in a succession of two syllables, the beginning of the second rises a single tone above the beginning of the first, the combination is called a rising ditone, be- cause it includes two syllables, the second rising a tone above the first, A rising ditone may be exemplified upon the sounds ^ . When in a succession of two syllables, the beginning of the second falls a tone below the beginning of the first, the combination is called a falling ditone because there are two syllables of which the second falls below the first. This may be exemplified upon the sounds * . A succession of three syllables in which the second begins a tone above the first, and the third a tone above the second is called a rising tritone ; because three sylla- bles are included in the combination rising in the order described. RADICAL PITCH. 77 Arising tritone maybe exemplified upon the sounds a i . When four or more syllables follow each other of which the couplets rise and fall a tone alternately, the combina- tion is called the alternate phrase of melody. The fol- lowing sounds, and their arrangement, will exemplify the alternate phrase. a c i When two syllables, or any greater number follow each other, beginning at the same pitch, the combination is called the phrase of the monotone. The following sounds may be employed to exhibit the monotone. , e, t, o. When three syllables follow each other of which the se- cond begins atone below the first and the third a tone below the second, the third having a downward slide of a tone, the combination makes the triad of the cadence. A cadence produces the same satisfactory effect upon the ear, at the close of a sentence, which the key note does at the end of a tune. The combination above described, is called a triad because it is effected by three syllables, and a cadence because it possesses the properties of a per- fect close. A cadence may be exemplified upon the following sounds. a i b All the combinations above described, occur in the following seatence. They are called phrases of melody. But from the tomb the voice of na - ture cries. 78 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. And in our ash - es live their wont - ed fires. RISING TRITONE. FALL. DITONE. TRIAD OF THE CADENCE. In addition to the above described discrete intervals of speech, successive syllables differ from each other at their commencing points in the following respects, as Discrete rising thirds, fifths, and octaves. Discrete falling thirds, fifths, and octaves. We need not consider other intervals in the science of speech. SIMPLE MELODY OF SPEECH. Some portions of discourse, consist of plain thought. Things are described as they are in themselves, not as related to us as beings susceptible of emotion. In those parts which are restricted to such description, and in which no word has emphatic import above another, the melody of the second, as respects both slide and radical pitch, is alone required. In other words, every syllable should be restricted in its slide to the interval of a tone, and no two successive syllables should differ, in radical pitch, more than a tone from each other. If other inter- vals are introduced, the syllables on which they occur, acquire a prominence and peculiarity, which break up the order, and disturb the natural expression of the sim- plest form of discourse. There must, therefore, always be a definite and assignable reason, in the nature of the ideas, to justify a departure from the simple melody of speech. "/*v*> IUHIVERSIT SIMPLE MELODY OF SPEECH.' In the use of this melody, the syllables consist lor the most part, of a series of rising slides, except under par- ticular circumstances, or at the close of a passage. The falling slide shuts up the sense at the last syl- lable of a cadence. Sometimes a falling tone is intro- duced in other cases where the sense is comple- ted, but where a cadence is not required. The prece- ding diagram exhibited an instance of the use of the sim- ple melody of speech. By inspecting it, it will be seen, that, though we are limited to the use of the discrete and concrete rise and fall of a tone, in that species of melody appropriate to the simplest form of discourse, great provision is made in its respective phrases for agree- able change. The simplest form of speech, is therefore not necessarily monotonous : on the contrary, it may be al- most infinitely varied. The following diagram will show, that, so long as the conditions of this melody are main- tained, that is, that no syllable exceed the slide of a tone, and that no two proximate syllables differ from each more than a tone at their respective commencing points, its order may be changed without injury to the sound of the. sentence. But from the tomb the voice of na - ture cries. And in our ash - es live their won - ted fires. **-*- The phrases of melody as exhibited in the first dia- gram, only show the possible combinations as they 80 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. exist in the nature of the simple melody, but so long as an agreeable variety is maintained as respects the ear, there is no prescribed order for their use. The sentence now twice exhibited in the diagrams, might .undergo other changes in the setting of the syllables without percep- tible injury to the general melody of the whole. It is to be farther observed, that though no two successive sylla- bles are to differ more than a tone at their commencing points from each other, there is ample provision in the varied phrases for allowing of the movement of the voice, when necessary through its whole compass. The following diagram will show what we mean. But yonder comes rejoicing in the east,thepow'rflKingofday. Here the simple melody is preserved, but the voice has traversed a range of five tones of the diatonic scale, and there is nothing in the nature of the melody to hinder it from passing in its compass through double that num- ber, in giving utterance to a long sentence. We are, therefore, never compelled to employ wider intervals than a tone, (which bring with them their own peculiar expression,) merely to gratify the ear by a varied melody. Variety is still farther consulted, both as respects sense and melody in the ordering of the cadence with which sentences may terminate. The first form of cadence is that already shown in the diagrams. In this form the fall of the voice is made on FORMS OF CADENCE. 81 three successive syllables, the last of which falls a tone in its slide. The radical or opening portion of each of these syllables, is heard in three distinct impulses. On this account the close is very perfect, as every step of the descent is strongly impressed by the full radical (which is always the loudest part of a syllable) upon the ear. Another form of cadence is presented in the following diagram. A-wake! a-nte/ or le for - e - ver fallen ! ^ The cadence is here completed, as the diagram de- monstrates, upon two syllables. The first moves through two tones, by a falling slide ; the second begins at the end of that slide and then slides in its turn, through a falling tone. The first syllable of this cadence, being susceptible of long quantity can be extended through an interval of two tones and the second sliding through another tone makes the proper fall in this instance. But the forcible opening of only two syllables, instead of three is heard, and there- fore, as the ear will perceive, the close is less complete. The same general remarks apply to the following form, in which the cadence, as in the last instance, is made upon two syllables, with this difference however from it, that the voice falls through two tones upon the second syllable instead of the first. To thee I call. 82 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Here the close is also inferior in completeness to that of the first form of cadence. Another form still remains to be explained. In this, the fall is made upon a single syllable, the last of the sentence, which falls through three tones. The radical body therefore, of a single syllable only is heard in this form of cadence. The first may be considered as con- sisting of three very distinguishable impulses ; the second two forms of two ; the last must be considered as consist- ing only of one. On this account the present is the weakest form of cadence ever employed. Dr. Rush has denominated it the feeble cadence. It is shown upon the word tolls in the following example. The cur - few tolls. If the voice falls upon the last syllable of a sentence more than a radical second, it will make a "false cadence. This always disappoints the ear, and should be carefully avoided. The following diagram will exhibit a false ca- dence. He expired in a vie? ling house, which, I hope, I shall not. In order to obtain a clear perception of the peculiar expression of the Simple Melody of Speech, let the fol- lowing sentence be employed. " A man by the name of Job, lived in the land of Uz." Let each word be spoken with the rising slide of a tone, SIMPLE MELODY OF SPEECH. 83 so slowly, that its precise melody can be distinctly ob- served by the ear. The melody of the slides of the long syllables, will be easily recognized, and the short ones may be somewhat drawled, so as to display theirs. After the melody of the slides has been distinctly ascertained, let the sentence be read, in a natural manner, with an occasional rise and fall of a tone in radical pitch, and the expression of the simple melody will be made manifest to the ear. After the unobtrusive expression of this form of melody has been duly apprehended, any departure from it, except for the definite purpose of giving to a syl- lable or syllables some special meaning, will be offensive. Disagreeable habits of utterance, as respects pitch, often consist in violations of this melody, without appropriate cause. These will be pointed out under the heads of " Principles of Criticism," and " Faults in Reading and Speaking." As we have already shown, a variety of ra- dical pitch is perfectly compatible with the simple form of melody. The most common fault in its use is the unvaried or too frequent use of the monotone. Monotony, besides its directly disagreeable effect upon the ear, deprives a discourse of all vivacity and ap- pearance of feeling. On this account, it shuts up the sympathies of an audience, and when excessive, is a most effective means of destroying their attention. It is not to be expected that the varied phrases of melody can be intermingled in a regular order, or by special choice, at the ordinary rate of reading and speaking ; but if very small sections of sentences are slowly read at a time, subject to the correction of the student's own, or of a teacher's ear, with a view to the employment of a varied melody, in time, and by perseverance, the delivery will be freed from all disagreeable monotony. 84 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. To attain this object, the student should acquire a clear perception of the effect of the falling ditone, and a com- mand over its use, so that it may frequently play among the syllables of discourse. Such a use of the falling movement, with an exact observance of emphasis, will di- versify the melody of speech sufficiently to render it agreeable * When the proximate syllables are not uniformly mono- tonous, or so frequently alike in pitch, as to tire the ear, there is often another species of monotony produced by formal returns of the same phrases of melody at certain perceptible intervals of time. Their return may be con- stantly anticipated by the ear, and produce what may be termed the singsong style of delivery. Such for- mal habits of intonation often injure the style of com- position as well as of speech, as the structure of senten- ces is regulated to meet them. The style of Dr. John- son is so constructed as to favor the formal melody here condemned; and his monotonous imitators, for a long time, shut up the current of free thought in their artificial clau- ses, and threatened destruction to the flowing harmony and expansive energy of English prose. The following is a striking example of the formal con- struction we have alluded to. " Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil the better art- ist : in the one, we most admire the man ; in the other, the work. Homer hurries us with a commanding impe- tuosity ; Virgil leads us with an attractive majesty. Ho- mer scatters with a generous profusion ; Virgil bestows * Frequent and careful practice upon the Diagrams will enable the student to discern and employ the falling ditone. MELODY AT PAUSES. 85 with a careful magnificence. Homer, like the Nile, pours out his riches with a sudden overflow ; Virgil, like a river in its banks, with a constant stream. And when we look upon their machines, Homer seems, like his own Jupiter in his terrors, shaking Olympus, scattering the lightnings, and firing the heavens ; Virgil, like the same power in his benevolence, counselling with the Gods, lay- ing plans for empires, and ordering his whole creation." Such a method of writing naturally draws the voice in- to a repetition of the same combinations of pitch, or in other words, into formal returns of the same intonation at the different sections responding to each other. A variety of other examples might be given if our subject were Rhetoric and not Elocution, but the super- scribed instance may be sufficient to induce us to be upon our guard against the monotony to which such formal composition naturally invites. We believe a wakeful an- ticipation of the effects of style on the ear, in actual de- livery, is necessary, or at least, is greatly assistant to the art of harmonious writing. If this is true, a person who understands elocution must possess a great advantage over one who is ignorant of its principles. Monotony at pauses. Monotony will be particularly obtrusive at successive pauses, because the ear is invited by them to notice any striking return in the order of the pitch. Such a return frequently takes place where a series of commas suspend the sense. In this case, the syllable occurring before the pause is generally heard as a high note, sometimes from its constantly rising a third in radical pitch, which renders the recurrent note very con- spicuous, and at others from the unvaried use of the rising 8 86 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. ditone, which though not so conspicuous as the rise of a third, becomes from constant use a tiresome monotony. In the use of the three phrases (the rising and falling di- tone and monotone) there are ample means for variety at pauses. They should be used in such succession as to prevent any regular return of the same impression on the ear. Sometimes a particular preference of one of the phrases of melody over others at a pause is required by the sense. We know that a rising slide suspends the sense more than a falling one. Where a separation of parts is made by a pause, the connection of sense is most intimately preserved by the use of the rising ditone, that connection is somewhat more severed by the monotone still more by the falling ditone. If with any one of these respective phrases however, the voice is suspended by the rising slide, the dependence of sense is preserved. Sometimes* however (as we have just observed) the sense requires, though not very often, a preference of one par- ticular phrase over another. In the following instance we think the falling ditone is best employed upon the sylla- bles " angel," and the latter of the two to have the rising slide ; while at " desire," the rising ditone, with the ri- sing slide upon the second syllable, seems the best order of melody. An - gel, thy dc - sire, which tends to know the work* of God, doth mer - it praise. MELODY AT PAUSES. 87 " Fair angel" is a separate proposition, and though so connected with what follows, as to require the rising slide, is best separated from it by the severing effect of the falling ditone ; but the word " desire," though requi- ring a pause after it, is so intimately connected with the verb " doth merit," from which it is disjoined by the in- tervening proposition, as to require the additionally sus- pending effect of the rising ditone. The falling ditone at " Angel," the rising ditone at " desire," and the mono- tone at " God," will be perhaps the best melody that can be employed in this sentence. Where, however, special reasons do not exist for the employment of particular phrases of melody, they should succeed each other in such variety as to prevent all sense of formal returns of note. Inexperienced readers often use the rising slide where the sense is so far detached from what follows, as to re- quire the falling one. In cases where the falling slide is required, but without a full close, the sense generally is, or ought to be, shown to be completed by the semicolon or colon. The following example will illustrate my meaning. It is taken from the Paradise Lost, Book 6th. " Gladly then he mixed Among those friendly powers ; who him received With joy and acclamations loud, that one, That of so many myriads fallen, yet one Returned not lost." Many persons would use the rising slide at " powers." The distinctness of the propositions of the angel's joining his ancient friends, and of their receiving him in a parti- cular manner, are, however, in my opinion, such as to justify the use of the falling slide at that word, notwith- standing the succeeding relative " who." GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. When in such cases as the one above stated, a student is requested to correct himself by using the falling slide, he is very apt to do so with a full fall of the voice, using some form of the cadence as he does at a full stop. Now what is wanting in such instances as the one cited, is a falling slide, with a higher note and a short pause. The rising ditone, with a falling slide, and a quick passing on of the voice to what follows, after a pause just perceptible, will fulfil the requisition of the mind and the ear. A nice ear will perceive the advantage in other sections of sentences, where the period is not required, in using the monotone, and falling ditone, with the falling slide. We apprehend the former may be best employed on the word " Supreme," and the latter on the words " was heard," in the following sentence. On to the sacred hill They led him high applauded, and present Before the seat Supreme ; from whence a voice, From midst a golden cloud thus mild was heard; Servant of God, well done. The note will be perceived to be lower at " Supreme," as compared with what precedes, than it was at " pow- ers," in the former example ; and the " heard" will come upon the ear with more of a fall than is employed at " Su- preme," though here there is not a full fall of the voice. These are nice points, and may be passed over by those who deem mem unimportant. Others, however, will perceive that if a cadence is used at the word "heard," instead of the falling ditone, as explained above, the sense will be too much separated from what follows. A general and popular direction for the management of MELODT AT PAUSES. 89 loose sentences may be given in some such terms as these. When the sense is complete grammatically, but yet in- timately connected with what follows, let the falling slide be used, but without dropping your note upon the last syllable. In other cases where there is a wider separa- tion of sense, but still a dependence of parts, let the voice fall, but not with a full close. The falling ditone will ef- fect this object. An independent sentence, alone, re- quires a full close, which is to be effected by some form of the cadence. Sometimes when students employ the rising slide improperly, and are corrected, they run into the opposite error of making a full close. The remarks we have made are intended to remove the difficulty they experience in effecting the right inflection. Persons who cannot employ the variety above described, in the management of their pauses, never read Milton well. It may be farther observed that the length of the pau- ses must be regulated by the greater or less intimacy of connection of the parts which they separate. An exact analysis of the sense of an author, will much contribute to a correct use of pitch, both concrete and discrete at the pauses of discourse. A perceptible return of the same note at the ends of the lines in reading rhyme is to be carefully avoided. This species of monotony is particularly noticed by the ear on account of the recurrence of the measure and the sounds. The phrases of melody, and the different forms of ca- dence, supply ample materials for a constant variety. Here a popular direction of practical utility may be given in intelligible, if not in philosophical terms ; avoid the same note at recurrent pauses ; avoid it especially in rhyme. 8* 90 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Two examples are here given of the melody of pauses, with the variety recommended. If the effect of the scoring in this and the preceding diagrams, is carefully impressed on the ear, a perception of the right use of pausal melody will be obtained. On the thirtieth of June, one thousand six hundred and eighty I Jive, the Earl of Argyle, was bro't from the cas - tie, Jirst to the Low Council. House,and thence to the place of ex-e-cu-timi. IT* On Lin - den when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the un-tiod- den snnir, MELODY AT PAUSES. And dark ai win - ter was the flow Of I - ser, roll - ing ra - pid - ly. On the subject of closes of the voice, we may remark, by way of recapitulation, that a complete separation of sense between the parts of discourse, requires the cadence. Some persons never make a cadence and thus deny all re- pose to the ear. You look up at the end of a discourse to assure yourself they have concluded, for the voice gives no notice of it by a perfect fall. The effect of the ca- dence, when properly introduced, is always grateful ; and the converse is true, the ear is always disappointed when it is denied to it at proper places. Persons who desire to captivate the ear by the finished graces of discourse, must acquire a ready command over the fall of the voice. The effect of this can scarcely be described, but it is powerfully felt in all speaking of a serious character. A public speaker can scarcely be eloquent without it. The different forms of the cadence which we have described, will enable the reader and speaker to make a selection. The triad separates most ; the form consisting of two syllables less ; and that of a single syllable, the 92 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. least; then succeed, in regular order, the falling ditone, the monotone, and the rising ditone, each having the fall- ing slide upon the last syllable. From what has been stated, it will be evident that dis- course can seldom continue long in the melody appropri- ate to simple thought; melodic emphasis, interrogation and emotion being excluded from it. But if it be pre- served where it ought to be, other intervals when requi- red will come with all the advantage arising from proper contrast, and will on that account, represent with audible precision, the ideas they ought to convey. But if thirds, fifths, and the higher waves, equal and unequal, are intro- duced without assignable cause, into discourse, the sus- ceptibility to their impression, when they are required, is necessarily weakened. The beau ideal of melody con- sists in the use of the simplest form, (that of the second,) for the expression of plain thought, and in reserving the higher intervals, entirely for the purposes of giving ex- pression to words which are emphatic or display emotion. Those intervals constitute the strong lights and shadows of discourse, and should follow not as the result of faulty and indefensible habits, but from the order of its ideas and sentiments. There are two phrases of melody, which if predomi- nant in discourse, give it a peculiar expression. These phrases are the alternate phrase, and the monotone. The first is most appropriate to lively subjects, the latter, uni- ted with quantity, to all grave and solemn ones. QUESTIONS. 93 QUESTIONS TO RECITATION SIXTH. 1. What is meant by radical pitch, as opposed to con- crete pitch ? 2. How is a rising ditone formed ? 3. Furnish an example. 4. How is a falling ditone formed? 5. Furnish an example. 6. How is a rising tritone formed ? 7. Furnish an example. 8. How is an alternate phrase formed? 9. Furnish an example. 10. How a monotone? 11. Furnish an example. 12. How is the triad of the cadence formed ? 13. Furnish an example. 14. The student is required to score out the sentence, page 77 on the black board. 15. What conditions of pitch belong to the simple melody of speech, and to what portions of discourse is it limited ? 16. What is the most prevalent defect in the use of that melody ? 17. What are the provisions for avoiding it? 18. What are the different forms of cadence ? 19. Score an example of each upon the black board. 20. What is the peculiar effect of the rising slide in expression ? 21. What of the falling? 22. What is the special effect of the cadence in ex- pression ? 23. What are the circumstances which justify a de- parture from the diatonic melody ? RECITATION SEVENTH. FULL CADENCE. THERE is another form of the cadence, which marks the termination of a subject more completely than any yet described. The fuller close of the voice effected by this cadence, is produced by falling a discrete third, or fifth, upon some syllable preceding the common cadence, and near enough to it to be connected with it by the ear. It is exemplified in the following diagram. Such ho - nors II - ion to her lo - ver paid. And peace -ful slept the migh - ty Hec - /or'* shade. The voice descends here a discrete third upon the word " slept," which occasions a more perfect close than if the word were retained within the range of the simple melody. This cadence should often be employed at the end of a paragraph, and always at the close of a discourse. TRANSITION OF VOICE. 95 TRANSITION OF VOICE. AS TO ITS RADICAL PITCH. The first or prelusive note upon which a speaker sets out in his discourse has often an influence on its whole melody. There is a medium pitch of the voice, differ- ing of course in different individuals, from which ascent and descent through its whole compass is easy. Speakers should be careful to become familiar with this note, and to acquire a habit of striking upon it at once. They should always set out with it in discourse, and often re- turn to it. It is the note most frequently heard in ordi- nary conversation. Some speakers almost immediately after commencing their discourse, run up to the top of the voice, and continue that high pitch through the largest portion of an address, thereby producing a continued radical monotony. This is tiresome and offensive, in the highest degree. To aggravate the evil the high pitch is commonly united with great loudness, and an en- tire defect of the cadence is usually superadded. Oth- ers immediately, or very soon fall below the natural note and are not able to rise again. They cannot make a cadence, because they cannot descend below the pitch they have assumed. They cannot speak with force, be- cause if the voice descends to a certain point below its middle note it ceases to be able to employ force. Indeed this descent may be carried so far, that the syllables be- come at length inaudible. To maintain fullness and strength of tone, let the middle note, or that note above and be- low, which the voice can be easily managed, be always 06 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. made the starting point of a discourse. Further, let a speaker accustom himself by frequent practice to rise and fall upon sentences, selected for the purpose, through the whole compass of the voice. Such a practice was com- mon with the ancient speakers, and will be an effective means of removing the inconveniences we have descri- bed, by giving a ready command over the scale. Another great fault of delivery arises from want of transition in tone at those parts of a discourse where the speaker enters on a new train of thought. Such parts are generally divided, in writing, by para- graphs. But these, which require to be marked by chan- ges of tone, are often quite disregarded. I have heard a boy at school deliver a long piece, distinguished by va- riety, without one marked transition of tone. I have heard students at college do the same in declamations composed by themselves, and well divided to the eye. Nay, I have heard every student do this in a long succession of speakers, where the pieces averaged ten or fifteen minutes in delivery. I have been led by these circumstances to point out this defect to my class, and have shewn them by the voice, how it might be avoid- ed ; and the redeeming effect of marked but temperate transitions has been most striking in their subsequent de- clamations. Nothing relieves the ear more agreeably than well regulated transition. It should be effected with temperance but whenever a speaker enters on a new train of thought, whether in reading or speaking, notice should be given to the ear by the following means differ- ently modified as to degree, according to circumstances. 1. By a change in the quality and pitch of the voice. TRANSITION OF VOICE. 97 2. By an alteration in the rate of the voice as to quick- ness or slowness. 3. By an abatement of the previous force or loudness. 4. By a change in the phrases of melody. The falling on the monotone, for a short space, has of- ten a striking effect. All these circumstances will, of course, be most conspicuous during the pronunciation of the few first sentences, at the fresh paragraphs, af- ter which the voice will '.naturally escape into the freer expansion of a more animated delivery. Always at the introduction of a subject requiring a new paragraph the directions here given should be followed. But, in slighter degrees, the changes insisted upon should occasionally be introduced, to mark the opening of successive sentences.* Pupils never find any difficulty in obtaining a command over the changes of the voice here described after they have been once clearly explained and exhibited to them. The subject of transition may be somewhat farther il- lustrated by example : and as it is one of considerable practical moment, we subjoin the following extract for the purpose of further explanation. 1. At midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour, When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, thro' camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror; In dreams his song of triumph heard ; * The happy transitions, among other marked improvements in the delivery, could not fail to strike those who attended the last commencement of Yale College. 9 98 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne a king ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird. 3. An hour passed on. The Turk awoke : That bright dream was his last ; He woke to hear his sentry's shriek, "To arms! they come ! the Greek ! the Greek!" He woke to die midst flame and smoke, And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke, And death shots falling thick and fast As lightnings from the mountain cloud; And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, Bozzarris cheer his band ; " Strike till the last armed foe expires, Strike for your altars and your fires, Strike for the green graves of your sires, God and yourjnative land !" 4. They fought like brave men, long and well, They piled that ground with Moslem slain, They conquered but Bozzarris fell, Bleeeding at every vein. Jtiarco Bozzarris. Elocutionist, p. 307. The whole of the first section of the superscribed ex- tract, should be read with about the same quality, rate, and pitch of voice, which are employed in conversation, with perhaps a little more force. The second sentence should begin about a radical third lower, with monotone, and a slower movement. Upon the third line, die voice should rise somewhat higher in pitch, with some increase of rate ; while upon the fourth, it should be still louder, higher, and more rapid. Upon the last four lines especially, the delivery should be loud, high and rapid. TRANSITION OF VOICE. 99 The voice should again fall in pitch, upon the com- mencement of the next section, and should be slow in its movement, with a prevalence of the monotone. These remarks may serve the purpose of explaining more fully, what we mean by transition. It is less marked in all its circumstances, in prose com- position, than in the extract above cited. Indeed, great transitions of force and pitch are generally unnatural ; and to be carefully avoided, except under circumstances of violent passion : but these are for the most part con- fined to the stage, and never occur in ordinary compo- sition. QUESTIONS TO RECITATION SEVENTH. 1. How is the most impressive kind of cadence formed ? 2. What are the circumstances to be particularly at- tended to, in order to effect transitions in the voice ? 3. Under what circumstances are they to be em- ployed ? HECITATION EIGHTH. THE application of rising and falling thirds, fifths, and octaves, as well as the different waves of the voice, will be seen under the head of emphasis, and that of the lan- guage of emotion. EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. The extension of the time of syllables without chang- ing their standard pronunciation, is one of the most im- portant uses of the voice. It is not possible to give a serious, solemn, or dignified expression to speech, nor to employ one of the forms of emphasis of a highly impres- sive and agreeable character, without a command over quantity. Some syllables cannot be extended in their time without changing their natural sound, or rendering their pronunciation affected. Act, pit, cat, fate, dip, arc, are of this sort. So also are blood, carry, memory, abominable. Others again are capable of great prolon- gation, and with an increase of pleasure to the ear. Hail, all, thee, isle, own, ooze, how, are of this description. If any person will take these words one by one, and pronounce them as shortly as possible, and then draw them out more and more, at successive efforts, till (with- out changing their familiar and acknowledged sound,) he finds that they are lengthened to such a degree as to become very emphatic, he will obtain an elementary notion of quantity. When this is done properly, the syl- EMPLOYMENT OP QUANTITY. 101 Jables are just what they were before, except that they are vastly longer, without drawl, and with a finer effect upon the ear. The high degree of impressive empha- sis thus communicated, even upon a solitary syllable, will at once demonstrate the importance of that mutable, cha- racter, which it possesses as to time. Indeed, how could such a curious power of varying them, b.e give^in-yaio. It is, like many other powers of the voice, directly related to the language of emotion, for the use of all those who have any. There are syllables susceptible of slight extension, which are intermediate between the two classes above described. If a syllable cannot be extended in quantity, without changing the elementary sounds which compose it, or ren- dering its pronunciation affected, it is not to have it. Such a syllable may be considered as immutable with regard to its time. The conditions above stated, limit the time of such syllables as are mutable. Those which are capable of great extension, may be termed indefinite. In giving great length to syllables, and avoiding at the same time, any other form of emphasis except that of time, the flexure of the wave of the second, is necessarily assumed, because the simple rise or fall of the voice is not of sufficient duration for the display of very extended quantity. A power of giving great quantity, therefore, implies a power over the wave, and a few trials will communicate it to the student. The exhibition of quan- tity is to be perfectly free from the slightest drawl. This can only be avoided by taking care to give the syllables with a gradual lessening of the volume of the voice, du- ring its pronunciation, and ending it with the vanish for- 9* 102 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. raerly described. The preservation of the exact condi- tions of the concrete slide as heretofore explained, can alone preserve a speaker from degenerating into song, or drawl in the use of long quantity. That part of our subject should be reconsidered with special reference ,oi- All the fon'g'TOwel elements are eminently susceptible of quantity, and always with an agreeable effect upon the ear ; consequently, all syllables which end with these elements, can be prolonged. So can many which com- mence with them. The following are specimens. Day, age, law, awed, Fa (in father,) arm, thee, eel, who, ooze, thy, isle, thou, our. The consonant elements do not admit of tiniest the beginning of syllables. If quantity be given to them in this situation, and consequently to the syllables of which they make a part, the pronunciation becomes affected, as will be perceived on pronouncing the words contained in the table page. The following passage would have a very affected utterance, if the elements marked by italics were to be considerably extended in quantity. Oh could 1,/Z-ow J-ike th-ee, and m-ake thy *r-eam Jtf-y gr-eat e-a>ample, as it is my theme ; Though tZ-eep, yet c/-ear, though g-entle, yet not d-ull ; Sfr-ong without r-age, without o'er^-owing, full. I know a gentleman whose constant habit was to give length to eveiy consonant susceptible of it, wherever found. Very few persons, who by accident get a habit of quantity, are entirely free from the faults of lengthen- ing the consonants. EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. 103 With reference to quantity, consonant elements may be submitted to the following classification. * 1 . Those which produce entire occlusion, as P, T, K. These never perceptibly increase the time of sylla- bles. Their utterance is a mere point of sound, as a-t, o-p, a-c, t-\e, p-\Q, c-le. 2. Those which consist of mere aspiration, as f, s, h, wh, th, sh, ch, can be extended, but they are a bad mate- rial for time, and ought to be uttered as short as possible, without rendering their enunciation indistinct. The follow- ing are specimens of their combination with other ele- ments, as fle, so, os, horse, wheat, thin, truth, shun, ash, church. 3. Those which soon produce occlusion, but are first vocal in the throat, are susceptible of some quantity, though not of the longest. They are b, d, g, and are heard in orb, aid, egg. 4. Those which are vocal without occlusion, are all sus- ceptible of extension, and are proper subjects of quantity in certain combinations, with other elements : they are I, m, n, r final, and ng ; the trilled r with which sylla- bles commence, does not admit of much quantity; a single slap of the tongue, so as to make the trill manifest, is sufficient ; a farther continuation of it is disagreeable and affected. The words, all, aim, own, song, war, will display the quantity of these elements. 5. Some of those elements, which are partly vocal, and partly aspirate, have quantity in certain combinations, while others rarely, if ever, admit of it. The vocal as- * I am indebted to Dr. Fitch, Professor of Divinity, in Yale Col- lege, for the suggestions which led to this classification. 104 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. pirates are v, z, y, w, th, th as in th-ou, zh in a-z-ure. Of these, v and z are the most liable to quantity at the end of syllables, as sa-v-e, i-s, wa-s; the others seldom require or bear extension. Let the following words be pronounced with extended quantity, with a fine display of the vanishing movement ; and without the slightest affectation or change of cha- racter. Orb, Jlows, one, man, pure, doom, cud, flowed, burn, wo, dove, bale, old, air, swill'd, one, low, flames, save, star, wild, gain, mov'd, is, was, war, plumed, spire, he, knows, att, song, fair, rhyme, times, nine, stars, prose, there, hail, wings, morn, thou, knell, praise, world, bear, wheels, call, lull, tears, aim, scorn, arm, home, sad, turn. Let die syllables marked in italics, in the following sections of sentences be prolonged as much as possible consistent with natural and unaffected pronunciation, and with the attenuated vanish of the voice.* Hail, ho-\y light. "Or of the eternal co-eternal beam, may I express thee wn-blamed." * Care must be taken not to mouth the syllables marked in italic*. Mouthing is a deviation from standard pronunciation, and is most apt to occur upon the sounds OM, 00, ate, o, and m. Whenever these sounds pass the organs of speech, exercise a vigilant observa- tion over the movement of the lips. The less the lips are used, the more free will be the pronunciation from the defect we have pointed out: EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. 105 " Dwelt then in thee, bright effluence of bright essence tVcreate." " Be-fore the sun, before the heavens thou wert." " Thee I revisit now with b-oZ-der wing." " We praise thee, O God, we acknowledge thee to be the Lord." " Our Fa-ther who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy vn-ll be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our dai-\y bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we for-give them that tres- pass against us. And lead us not into temptation: but deliver us from e-vil. For thine is the king-dom, and the power, and the gl-o-ry, for ever and ever, .dmen" Roll on, thou dark and deep blue ocean, roll. Soothed with the sound, the King grew vain. None but the brave, none but the brave, None but the brave, deserve theyair. The song be-g*an from Jove. A dragon's fiery form belied the god. Sublime (on radiant spires) he rode ; And now and then a sigh he stole, and tears began to flow. I will here insert a list of all the words requiring long quantity, in Byron's address to the ocean, in the order in which they will be found in the Elocutionist, page 282. The words requiring extended time, are in italics. Sec. 1. Line 1, " Oh!" Line 4, "love, but only her." Line 6, " Can ye not accord me such a being ?" Line 7, Do I err l Line 9, rarely be. Sec. 2. Line 2, lonely shore. Line 4, " sea," " mu- sic." Line 5, "more." Line 8, "mingle with the uni- verse and feel." Line 9, con-ceal. Sec. 3. Line 1, " roll," on " roll." line 2, " Ten 106 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. thousand." Line 4, "shore." Line 5,"%." Line 9, " un-k-nelleS" " and un-known." Sec. 4. Line 1, " %" " thy." Line 4, " des-j>we." Line 8, " bay." Line 9, " there let him %." Sec. 5. Line 7, " ffose are thy toys" Line 8, "waves," "mar." Sec. 6. Line 1, "changed in all save thee." Line S, " %" "/ree." Line 5, " ^Aetr." Line 6, " realms," " not *o fAott." Line 7, " unchangeable." Line 8, ft'me writes wo wrinkle on thine azure 6row. Line 9, " dawn" I have here noted every word which appears tome to re- quire conspicuous extension to Sect. 7. The student may take his pencil and mark the peice for himself, and then read it, subject to such marking. Careful practice upoiK the words and sentences before given, with the reading of a few such pieces as that cited above, will give a com- plete command over quantity : one of the most indispen- sible requisites to fine reading and speaking, and to that most important feature of it, a distinct and well marked pronunciation. We will recapitulate the circumstances necessary to be observed in the use of quantity, whether for purpo- ses of dignified narrative and description, or for empha- sis. They are, 1 . A well marked radical with a lessening volume of sound from the opening, and a clear terminating vanish. This will keep the syllable free from all admixture of song and drawl. 2. The preserving the syllable unaltered as respects the natural sound of its elements. EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. 107 S. The avoiding the slightest mouthing. Good reading requires that the syllables susceptible of quantity should be sufficiently marked by that element to contrast them with the audible effect of the percussive ac- cents heard in the utterance of short ones. If time and stress are properly combined and marked in speech, it will pos- sess two essential elementary conditions of agreeable discourse upon which other excellencies may be grafted. But if either stress or time are feebly marked, other beauties of utterance as emphasis, intonation, and chan- ges in the quality of the voice will not redeem it. A well marked stress and a gracefully extended time are the staple of agreeable speech. They give it the two properties of smoothness and brilliancy. The first de- pends on quantity, the latter on stress. The follow- ing subjects and all others which are of a serious and de- liberate character, require a great extension of syllabic quantity. 1 . Grandeur and solemnity of Description. The fol- lowing is an instance. " High on a throne of roy-al state, which far Out-shone the wealth of Or-mus and of Ind ; Or where the g-or-geous east with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold y Satan exalted sat." 2. Reverential and earnest prayer, veneration, awe, Sic. We have cited the Lord's prayer as an instance. Others of a similar kind abound in the Psalms, and in the solemn supplication of the Episcopal Church. Adam and Eve's Morning Hymn is one. 108 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 3* Solemn Denunciation. *' Wo unto thee Cho-razin, Woe unto thee Be\h-saida" " For soon expect to feel His thun-der on thy head de-vowr-ing fire, Then who created thee lamenting learn, When who can wn-create thee thou shalt know." 4. Deep Pathos. This requires the use of the wave of the semitone, which is nothing but plaintiveness and long drawn time. The following is a marked instance. " We have err'd and strayed from thy ways, like lost sheep. We have done those things which we ought not to have done and we have left wn-done those things which we ought to have done, and there is no health in us. But thou, O ! Lord, have mercy upou us miserable of-fend- ers. Spare thou those / God, who confess their faults. Re-store thou those who are penitent, ac-cord-ing to thy promises declared unto mankind, in Christ Je-sus our Lord. And grant, O ! most merciful Father, for his sake, that we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and so-ber life, to the glo-ry of thy Ao-ly name." 1 have here particularized by italics, those words which require the most marked extension. The general move- ment is comparatively slow, for these cast their sombre shadows over the whole, and subdue it to the tone of deep and penitential sorrow. Other instances will be found in this Grammar, and in the Elocutionist, requi- ring from their dignified and serious character, an ex- tended time. The apostrophe to the Queen of France. The extracts from the Revelations : parts of Isaiah and the Psalms, together with several others. QUESTIONS. 109 QUESTIONS TO RECITATION EIGHTH. 1. What is the meaning of quantity, as applicable to speech ? 2. What are the conditions which limit its use in syl- lables?' 3. What interval of pitch is most employed in the use of very long quantity ? 4. What are the circumstances necessary to give it an agreeable effect? 5. How is a drawl to be avoided ? 6. How is song to be avoided ? 7. Under what particular circumstances is quantity inadmissible on consonants susceptible of it ? 8. What is the classification of elements best adapted to present an elementary view of quantity ? 9. State the different classes of elements susceptible of quantity. 10. To what subjects is long quantity applicable ? 10 RECITATION NINTH. OF PLAINTIVENESS IN SPEECH, OR THE USE OF THE SEMITONE. 1 SHALL state merely what is directly practical on this subject. Persons desirous of looking more deeply into it, may consult with great advantage, Dr. Rush's pro- found disquisition on the chromatic melody of speech, Sec. 18, page 247, of his " Philosophy of the human voice." Let the following vowels sounds be uttered with plain- tiveness, and they will slide through the interval of a se- mitone, a, t, o. Let them be sounded with a marked plaintiveness of character, at high pitch, at a low one, and at one that is intermediate between high and low. This will show that the plaintiveness is inherent in the semitonic slide, wherever it may begin in the compass of the voice. In general, however, a low radical pitch is best adapted to subjects requiring the semitone. All subjects of great pa- thos and tenderness, require the use of the semitone. It is the natural element of the plaintive emotions. Let the student, therefore, acquire a command over it. This will be best effected by turning to the table of the vowels and consonants, and sounding them with strenuous en- deavour to give them an unequivocally plaintive charac- ter, until it is distinctly marked. Let the following sentence? then be read with a con- spicuously plaintive expression. PLAINTIVENESS OF SPEECH. Ill My mother, when I learned that thou wast dead, Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son ? Wretch, even then, life's journey just begun. Perhaps thou gavest me, though unseen, a kiss ; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss. Ah! that maternal smile, it answers yes. I heard the bell toll'd on thy funeral day ; I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away ; Arid turning, from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu. Quantity is always united with the semitone, when it is employed in solemn and serious subjects; it then as- sumes the form of the wave. The semitone is appropri- ate to love, pity, complaint, vexation, disappointment, sorrow, penitential supplication, and pain of all kinds. EXAMPLE 1. Love. Oh ! Mary, dear, departed shade, Where is thy place of blissful rest ? See'st thou thy lover, lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? EXAMPLE 2. Pity. " Oh ! sailor boy, sailor boy, peace to thy soul." EXAMPLE 3. Complaint. Q.Kath. Would I had never trod this English earth, Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it. Ye have angel's/ace*, but heaven knows your hearts -. I am the most unhappy woman living. EXAMPLE 4. Deep sorrow. " Oh my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom, 112 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. would God I had died for thee, O Absalom my son, my son." EXAMPLE 5. Disappointment. " Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither rain, upon you ; for there the shield of the mighty was vilely cast away. The shield of Saul as though it had not been anointed with oil. EXAMPLE 6. Penitential supplication. The instance quoted, page 108, is an example. EXAMPLE 7. Bodily pain. " Oh ! Griffith sick to death, My legs like loaden branches bow to the earth, Willing to leave their burthen. Reach a chair, So, now me thinks I feel a little ease." In most of the above cited examples, the reading con- templated, is that which exhibits personal feeling in the highest degree. If some of them are read in a narrative manner, we may drop the semitone retaining the long quantity. Language effects its objects in two ways ; first by the particular words employed, and their connection ; and secondly by the intonation put upon them. Words are in themselves symbols of feeling, but their effect is heightened by special conditions of melody. Where the language is in itself solemn and plaintive, the superadcli- tion of long quantity and a predominant use of the mono- tone, will be sufficient for a moderate degree of pathos. But the highest expression of mournful feeling, can only be effected by the semitone. TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 113 TREMOR OF THE VOICE. IN plain reading and speaking, this element is seldom required. The gurgling of the throat, and the neighing of a horse are instances of it. T, P, K, as producing entire occlusion, and the aspirates may be laid out of our account as respects the tremor. Let the student turn to the Table, and sound each of the other alphabetic ele- ments with a prolonged tremor, maintaining the same pitch throughout the process of sounding each, with which he begins it. Let him men endeavour to give to each, during the continuance of the tremulous movement, a rising semitone, third, fifth, and octave : afterwards the same falling movements. Strenuous and persevering ef- forts will be necessary, in order to rise and fall easily through the different intervals with tremor ; but when the student can effect it upon the alphabetic elements, he will find no difficulty in applying it to words. Let him as a practice, sound the words contained in the table under the head of quantity, page 104, taking care that eve- ry element (except those above excluded from conside- ration) heard in the word, sustains its due portion of the tremor. Let them be sounded through the intervals, in the manner directed for the alphabetic elements. The circumstances to be aimed at in the use of the tremor, are to make the separate tittles as distinct as possible, to make them follow each other with ease and rapidity, to have each well accented, to make them as numerous as possi- ble during the proper pronunciation of the syllables on which they are placed, and to take care that each ele- ment contained in them, sustain its due portion of the 10* 114 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. movement. In the higher kinds of poetry and oratory, the tremor judiciously applied, has sometimes a very striking effect. Persons on the stage, who have obtained a command over it, generally employ it to excess, and on improper occasions. It unites very naturally with other elements of the voice, in the expression of several of the emotions, and increases the intensity of their expression. It heightens the trill of joy, mirth, and exultation ; adds pungency to scorn, or derision ; deepens the note of sor- rowful feeling ; and, enhances the voice of distress. It is heard in laughing and crying. In the former it is em- ployed with the tone in the latter with the semitone. As it is occasionally required for such purposes as we have specified, it should be at the command of the rea- der and speaker. The elementary practice here enjoin- ed, will place it at his disposal ; and the examples which follow, may instruct him in its appropriate use. It is to be employed with temperance, for it lies on the extremes of the emotions. Indeed, with regard to this and to all other striking elements of the art of speech, the youthful speaker must acquire a temperance, consistent with na- ture, and the general taste of society. As to the acquisition of the elements, let the student be assured that no considerable difficulty lies in his way here. All that has been wanted, has been to know the elements, to classify, to name them, to render them se- parate objects of elementary practice, to learn them in the way of analysis, before attempts are made to com- pound them together, for the purpose of communicating the sense and sentiment of discourse. Ignorance of them, want of practice upon them, and previous bad habits, TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 115 mainly growing out of such ignorance and want of prac- tice, are the sources of faulty speaking. Examples of the tremor. It should be heard in the congratulatory exultation of Aufidius, the Volscian gene- ral, upon finding that Coriolanus was disposed to join the Volscians against his country. All the syllables on which (I think) it should be heard, are marked by italics. , Oh ! MarciuS) Marcius ! Each word which thou hast spoke, has weeded from my heart A root of ancient envy : if Jupiter Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and say Tis true, I'd not believe them more than thee, All no-ble Marcius ! " Why thou Mars ! I tell thee, We have a power on foot ; and I had purpose Once more to hew thy targe! from thy brawn, Or lose mine arm for it." Falstaff. " Til not march through Coventry with them that's flat. No eye hath seen such scare-crows" This is, as the reader will perceive, an extract from FalstafTs ragged regiment ; the whole of which, if dra- matically read, and little effect can be given to it by a merely plain reading, requires an almost continual chuck- le, and is a fine instance for the expression of the tremor, which is required upon almost every syllable. This piece should be practiced for its acquisition. It will be found in the Elocutionist, page 125. Queen Katharine, in commending her daughter Mary to Henry, terminates the affecting bequest, with these words of sorrowful and thrilling tenderness. They re- 116 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. quire, in dramatic reading, the marked expression of the semitone ; while the tremor should play throughout, and especially upon the words, " Heaven knows how dearly." " And a little To love her for her mother's sake, that loved him, Heaven knows how dearlv." QUESTIONS TO RECITATION NINTH. 1 . What are the circumstances necessary to render the tremulous movement of the voice consistent with the re- quisitions of the art of elocution ? 2. To what emotions is it generally applicable ? 3. The student is required to exhibit it on the ele- ments, on a series of words, on the examples. RECITATION TENTH. FORCE OF VOICE. FORCE of voice may be heard at the beginning of a syllable exclusively, by abrupt percussion ; in the middle of its course by swell of voice, increasing from the beginning of the syllable ; or it may be con- spicuously marked at the termination, or at loth ends, or equally throughout the whole body of a syl- lable. The vowel elements, as we have already shown, can be exploded with a very high c!egree of sud- den force. A long vowel may be made to burst upon the ear at its commencement with great explosive energy, and then the voice, constantly and equably diminishing in volume, may carry it through an extended quantity to its final termination in a delicate vanish. To this commencing force, Dr. Rush has given the name of RADICAL STRESS, because it is effected by the radical part of a syllable. (See p. 76.) We have already spoken of its importance and of the elementary method of acquiring it. This kind of force expresses strong anger and all the passions allied to it. It is appro- priate to impetuous mirth, indeed to all the animating emotions ; to wrath, joy, hope, exultation, positiveness, and in a greater or less degree, to the different modifica- tions of these states of mind. Radical stress is gene- rally combined with short syllabic quantity, and a conse- quent rapid movement of the voice in discourse. In the expression of impetuous anger, in dramatic reading 118 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. the words ought to burst forth like the rapid and succes- sive explosions heard in a display of fire works, cracking upon the ear with a constant repetition of short but ve- hement impulses. Few actors can give the expression here contemplated, and therefore, rant and mouth to compensate for their want of it. Force, when employed effectively, in right places, is a symbol of energy of feel- ing. In the delivery of the English language, it is a pow- erful agent of Oratory ; it makes dullness attentive, com- municates an impetuous spirit to discourse, and when united with strong intelligence and personal influence, rouses, animates, intimidates, overawes. When employ- ed in a moderate degree under the form of a well mark- ed accent, it gives life and animation to discourse, and makes it what is usually called brilliant. The address of Henry to his troops before the gates of Harfleur may be cited as requiring a high degree of the species of stress just described. The four last lines of Sect. 3, page 308 of the " ELOCUTIONIST," is another instance. Another is the last words of Edward to Warwick, page 327 of that work. Sections 8 and 9, page 343, are other examples. VANISHING FORCE OR STRESS. It has been already shown, that, in ordinary cases, the volume of the voice diminishes during the pronunciation of a long syllable, and that it is weakest at its termina- tion. Now force, may be applied at this very point. Such an application of force, Dr. Rush has called Van- ishing Stress, because it occurs at that part of the sylla- FORCE OF VOICE. 119 bles where sound usually vanishes into silence. This kind of stress cannot be well shown on any but a long syllable, because upon a short one, extremities cannot be rendered conspicuous by quantity. The vanishing stress is very distinctly marked in Hic- cough. An impressive illustration of its effects may be obtained by attention to the Irish pronunciation, the pe- culiarity of which depends on vanishing stress united with the frequent rise of a third and fifth. Let the student turn to the table of the vowel ele- ments, and, selecting one of the long vowels, let him be- gin it with moderate force, carrying it through any one of the intervals, (say a rising third or fifth) with long quantity making a strong and sudden jerk at its termina- tion, and an impressive exhibition will be made of the kind of stress we are describing. As soon as he has as- certained the nature of the movement he may then prac- tice it upon the other intervals of the scale. It may be also manifested on the consonants susceptible of quan- tity. This stress is often employed to make the concrete interval of thirds and fifths more conspicuous in interro- gation. It expresses impatient ardor, complaint, ' hasty and irritable interrogation, surprise, and fretfulness. It is often heard in the fretful complaints of children. It is more or less the habit of some voices, as well as a national characteristic. Some striking examples of its use will be given under Emphasis. We would remark, however, that if its ap- plication is to be natural, it must be " touched lightly." In the trials of beginners to verify elements, they are apt to be given in an excessive degree, or in a bungling man- 120 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. ner. This leads some superficial people to condemn the art of elocution, as if it produced an unnatural or artifi- cial method of speaking. But time and practice are ne- cessary to success in every art. Let the ear be first im- pressed by a marked exhibition of the elements, and then let them be diligently practiced till their expression be- comes easy and natural. All this may be effected in much less time than is required to play well on a flute or a violin. COMPOUND FORCE. FORCE is sometimes applied at both ends of a sylla- ble. Some examples of this will be given under Empha- sis. For practical purposes, nice distinctions between this compound use of force, and that last described, are not necessary. MEDIAN FORCE. BUT force is sometimes heard under another form. Not at the opening of a syllable not at its termination but conspicuously during its pronunciation. This pe- culiar application of force, Dr. Rush calls median stress. Let the following directions be observed in the pronunci- ation of the subscribed syllables. Sole, hail, feel, J. Let each be opened with moderate force let the voice gradually swell in volume as it proceeds, till the force be- comes conspicuous, and then let it diminish in the gradu- al manner in which it increased, and end in the usual MEDIAN FORCE. 121 vanish. This kind of force can only be shown in syl- lables of long quantity, and naturally carries them through some form of the wave. The practice should be on the wave of the second* Median force is well known in mu- sic by the term swell. It is a conspicuous ornament of song, and may be employed with equal effect, in speech. It gives emphasis to words without communicating to them a character of sharpness or violence; enforcing with agreeable smoothness, the expression of those mo- difications of joy, exultation, hope, and surprise, which are compatible with personal dignity. It also gives em- phasis to words of insinuation, and to such as express solemn grandeur, reverential awe, and kindred emotions. Several examples of the application of Median Stress, will be given under Emphasis. We conclude by ob- serving, that, it is the proper emphasis in all subjects re- quiring long quantity ; consequently, in all those of a dignified character. It is an element requiring great delicacy in its management. The swell is in general, only slightly marked, when naturally used ; any thing like violence, is foreign to this species of emphasis. Whenever it is practised upon the alphabetic ele- ments, the circumstances to be aimed at, are, that the swell should be gradual and moderate, but at the same time distinctly marked, that it should decline gently and equably as it began, and end in a delicate vanish into silence, after a prolonged quantity. Great pains should be taken to acquire a power over median stress. The long vowels are eminently susceptible of it. It may be farther practised upon the tables of words, under the head of quantity, page 104. 11 122 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. ASPIRATED MOVEMENTS OF THE VOICE. SEVERAL of the elements are uttered by mere whis- pering: for instance,/, $, sh, th, wh, cA, and others. All these elements are alike in one generic quality. They have no sound in the throat. They are under any in- crease of stress, mere forcible breath. The vowel ele- ments, as may be proved by turning to the tables, have no aspiration in their customary mode of utterance. Some of the consonants are free from it, while others are entirely aspirate, and others partly vocal in the throat, and partly aspirate. It is possible to mingle aspiration with all the vowel elements : let this be tried upon o, 00, ee, a. It is possible to make them entirely aspirate, by whispering them. Aspiration can be breathed among words in a greater or less degree, till they become per- fect whispers. If words are vociferated with excessive violence, they become aspirated. This is sometimes a cause of indistinct articulation, particularly in the ranting of the stage. Aspiration, in this case, depends upon a greater quantity of air being forced from the throat, than can be brought into vibration against the roof and sides of the mouth. Aspiration gives to words an air of mys- tery. It expresses excessive earnestness, strong anger, sneering contempt, scorn, and violent rage. Hissing, which is unmixed aspiration, expresses scorn in the highest degree. Aspiration adds to the scornful expres- sion of the unequal waves. It is an element requiring care in its use. GUTTURAL EMPHASIS. ACCENT. 123 EXAMPLES. Aspiration should prevail in the following mysterious 44 Then first, with amazement, fair Imogine found That a stranger was placed by her side ; His air was terrific ; he uttered no sound ; He spoke not, he moved not, he looked not around, But earnestly gazed on the bride." And in the following. Shylock. How like a fawning publican he looks ! GUTTURAL EMPHASIS. THERE is a harsh grating sound in the throat, expres- sive of the highest degree of loathing, scorn, and anger, which is sometimes required in the strong expression of dramatic reading. It requires to be united with strong radical stress, and is always accompanied with aspiration. See example un- der Emphasis. ACCENT. THE property of syllables, so well known by the name of accent, is dependent on the perception the ear has of force and time. The former communicates accent to short, the other to long, syllables. 124 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Short syllables wc-tory, tew-poral, ra-pidly. Long Ao-ly, an-gel, /ear-less. QUESTIONS TO RECITATION TENTH. 1. What are the ways in which force is applied to syllables ? 2. What is meant by radical stress ? 3. What by vanishing ? 4. What by median ? 5. What by compound ? 6. To what subjects is radical stress appropriate ? 7. To what median ? 8. To what vanishing and compound ? 9t The student is required to give some striking in- stances of the different kinds of stress. 10. What is meant by aspiration? 1 1 . What elements consist of pure aspiration ? 12. Can all the elements be rendered partially or wholly aspirate? 13. How? 14. To what sentiments is aspiration appropriate ? 15. How is guttural emphasis produced? 16. The student is required to give a vocal demon- stration of it in one of the examples under emphasis. 17. To what conditions of feeling is it applied ? 18. How is accent produced? 19. Give an instance of accent by stress, 20. By quantity. RECITATION ELEVENTH, MEASURE OF SPEECH. WE are now to enter on a subject highly curious as a part of the Physiology of speech, and connected with facility of utterance. Whether habits of frequent public speaking shah 1 be compatible with easy respiration, and with health, or shall in many cases be destructive of the constitution, will de- pend on a comprehension and application of the princi- ples contained in this section of our subject. On a pre- servation of the measure of speech, as here explained, will depend harmony oT utterance as well as its healthful exercise. Public speaking is a healthful exercise if pro- perly conducted ; but of most evil tendency to every de- licate constitution, if prosecuted against the laws of mea- sure. We request attention to the following prelimina- ry observations. The Larynx, (the primary organ of voice) is a com- pound organ. It performs the function of an air tube and of a musical instrument. The first is essential to re- spiration, the second to speech. By a beautiful law of relation, which we shall presently explain, a perfectly un- disturbed respiration is compatible with the flow of ener- getic discourse. But that law requires, the division of continued speech, into measures. Definition. A measure, as applied to speech, consists of a heavy or an accented portion of syllabic sound, and of a light or unaccented portion, produced by one effort 11* 126 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. of the organ of voice. In the production of all imme- diately consecutive sounds the larynx acts by alternate pulsation and remission. On this account, two heavy or accented syllables cannot be alternated with each other ; while a heavy and a light one or an accented and an un- accented one, can. The word Hunter can be uttered by a single effort of voice ; the first portion of that effort is pulsative, the second is remiss, and the two syllables al- ternate with each other. But the syllable " hunt" can- not be uttered, as it is spoken in the word " hunter," that is, under accent, twice, in immediate alternation. There must be a palpable hiatus or pause between the repeated syllables as hunt, hunt. Therefore in assuming consecutive pulsation and remission of the organ of the voice, in the pronunciation of the word " hunter," we in- tend to express the fact of alternation in the utterance of the syllables and to account for it upon some law of alternate forcible and remiss organic action. Let A stand for heavy or accented, and .-. for lighjt or unaccented in our future explanations. A perfect measure in speech consists of one, or any greater number of syllables, not exceeding fae, uttered during one pulsation and remission of the organ of voice. A single syllable may constitute a measure ; for if it be extended in quantity, the first portion may be under ac- cent, or may be perceptibly heavy, and the latter unac- cented or light. A short syllable will not constitute a measure. The syllables hail, woe, man, and others will make a perfect measure, their length admitting of a remission as palpable as if the word consisted of two written syllables. Syllables therefore of indefinite quan- tity can be so pronounced as to constitute a measure or MEASURE OF SPEECH. 127 not, at the option of the speaker. The heavy or accent- ed portion of a measure cannot be spread over more than a single syllable ; in other words from some inex- plicable law of the voice, more than one syllable cannot be uttered during what we have ventured to call its pulsa- tive effort; while, as we shall see presently, its remiss ac- tion can be farther divided. A measure may consist of two distinct syllables, as temper, the first heavy, the se- A /. cond light : but it may consist of three, as in temperance, A /. .'. the first being heavy, and responding to pulsation, the two latter ones light, and dividing between them the remiss action of the voice. Four syllables may make a meas- ure, as in spiritual so may five, as spiritually : here the A /. /. /. A /. /. /. /. remission is farther subdivided ; but in its nature it is dis- tinct organic action from that employed on the first sylla- ble. I believe more than five syllables cannot be crowd- ed into one measure. Five are sometimes employed in lyric poetry. Milton and Shakspeare, have not, as far as I know, ever employed, in any of their lines more than four syllables in a measure. It is by no means necessary that a measure should consist of a single word. I only make this observation because single words have been employed for illustration, and I was afraid they might mislead some of my junior readers into wrong notions at the outset. < Came to the', is a measure; so is ' when he A .'. /. A /. was in.' He had a fever I when he was in Spain. So I A .-. /. .;. is the part distinguished by notation in the following sec- 128 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. tion of a sentence. " In the second century of the A /. /. .'. .'. I Christian era, &c.;" for it can be uttered during a single movement of the voice. An imperfect measure in speech consists of a syllable on which only the heavy part of the voice is heard, or of a syllable or syllables on which only the light portion of the measure occurs. A bar | | is a mere technical invention employed to separate one measure from ano- ther; the time being calculated from one bar to another. The time of every bar is actually, or is supposed to be, equal in speech, as in music. A bar may contain an imperfect foot, the accented, or the unaccented, poriion of the measure being wanting. The time of the bar is, in that case, completed by a rest indicated in this gram- mar by the following mark 7. EXAMPLE. 'Twas at the A .'. .'. royal feast 7 A /. 7 for I Persia I won. A /. A .'... A.\ In this example " feast" is heavy, and " for" light. The whole time of a bar may pass in silence | 7 7 | the two rests indicating the time of the heavy and light por- tions of the measure; or, two or more may be occupied in the same manner | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 \ . The number must be determined by the sense, and the consequent necessity of longer or shorter pauses. In a succession of measures, each is supposed to con- sist of a heavy and a light portion of sound ; but imper- fect measures must occur, and their time is consequently MEASURE OF SPEECH. 129 completed by pauses. For measures of equal time, however constituted, make musical proportion. Heavy and light sounds in immediate succession, con- stitute the bases of such syllables as fancy, picture, linden, A /. A .*. A /. temper. Light and heavy sounds, make such as attest, A 6 VN&ij ' A impel, attack, and others which begin in a similar manner. .'. A .'. A Heavy sounds in succession, require intervening pauses, as may be perceived by uttering the words house 7 top A /. A 7 cat 7 fish 7. .'. A .*. A /. Monosyllables, constituting nouns, and verbs not mere- ly auxiliary, are generally affected to the heavy or ac- cented function of the voice, and particles to the unac- cented or light. This alone shows the importance of accent in the use of language. Light syllables can be rendered heavy by emphasis, heavy ones light, as man, woman, A A /. From what has been stated, it is evident, that a series of syllables, of which each is heavy, will employ, together with the pauses between them, the same time as if light syllables followed the heavy ones. EXAMPLE. Rocks 7 I Caves A .*. A Lakes 7 A Dens 7 A These are all supposed to be pronounced short, though some might be prolonged. They will occupy the time of the following series. 130 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Rocks and I Caves and I Lakes and I Dens 7 A /. A /. A /. A If the pronunciation of the following imaginary sen- tence, (constructed to show every variety of measure,) were regulated by the pendulum, the results would be such as shall be presently stated. Fame I 7 7 I Science I 7 7 A /. A /. A /. A .'. Liberty I Spiritual I 7 A .-. /. A /./..-. A are capable of ex- citing I hope, 7 I fear 1 7 7 A 77 A /. | A /. | A /. | A /. A/. If a pendulum were employed to measure the bars of this unmeaning sentence, the word "fame" being a sylla- ble of quantity, might be prolonged, so as to occupy two swings ; the remission taking place in the latter part of the word, on the sound of the m : the silent bar would consume the time of two more ; " science" that of the two next; the silent bar the time of the following two; "li- berty" that of the two next; " spiritual" that of the suc- ceeding two ; the rest 7 marked in the next bar, would consume the time of one swing, the word " are" in that bar the other ; the measure of foe syllables, rapidly utter- ed, might be crowded into the time of the next two swings; "hope" again would take the time of a single swing, and the rest 7 following it, would employ the time of the next ; the word "fear" might be made by quanti- ty to occupy the two remaining swings. In this experi- ment, the integral measures would be the same in dura- tion, while their quotional parts would differ from one syllable, to five. A very conspicuous variety, as respects the ear, would be produced by the number and rapidity of the syllabic impulses of some of the measures, as com- pared with others. We are now prepared for a definition of syllabic Rytlimus. MEASURE OF SPEECH. 131 Rythmus consists in an arrangement of syllabic mea- sures, distinguishable by the ear, divided more or less by pauses, and of more or less obvious proportion in their periods and responses. Verse, as will be seen presently, is made of a regular succession of like measures, or of measures of so limited a variety, and so divided by pauses, into proportioned parts, as to present sensible responses at certain intervals, to tlie ear. Measures consisting, for the most part, of two syllables, the first accented or heavy, the second unaccented or light, make up what is called common time poetry. " Mortal A /. nature A /. lifts her I changeful form. 3 A A /. I A .' The rythmus in which the measure of three syllables predominates is called triple time poetry. Came to the I beach a poor exile of A /. /. Erin. A /. A /. /. I A .'. .' All poetry is based upon one of these two measures. It is true, indeed, that occasional bars are occupied oth- erwise than by measures of two and three syllables. Im- perfect measures must occur : rests of various duration are required, and sometimes measures are composed of a different number of syllables from the standard. The magic of the poet's art consists in such a nice adjustment of these quotional parts, both as respects the syllabic im- pulses, and the impressive rests, as shall produce agreea- ble variety, without disturbing the regular mechanism of his verse : and a large portion of its harmony and smoothness lies in the management of this department of his art. The following line of Dryden is in common measure, 132 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. but the agreeable flow of the numbers arises from the variety of the syllabic impulses distributed through the bars, and the peculiar adjustment of the rests. Arms and the I ] fate? A /. The following lines are also in common measure, but every one feels the effect of the rapidity of the syllabic impulses crowded into the time of one of the bars of the first line. 7 My I eye des- I cending from the I hill sur- I veys A /. A .'. A /. /. /. A >. ' \ A /. [an I A .'. sing A/. 77 A .'. Iwho7 A /. forced by A /. 7 Where A Thames a- mong the wanton vallies strays. A .'. The poetry which preceded the revolution of 1688, is superior in its rythm, as well as in fire and comprehen- sion, to that which followed, with perhaps two exceptions; the blank verse of Milton, and the finer parts of Dryden. This latter poet has much greater variety in the mechan- ism of his verse, than Pope and his imitators. The finest lines of Pope, are those in which he has disregarded the finger counting prosody, by which he seems to have been habitually regulated ; and which substituted, the consideration of the number of syllables in a line, for that of the structure of the measures. Much of the po- etry of his time, and which followed it, is well described in the following lines of its great projenitor himself. Grove nods to grove, each alley has its brother; And half the platform just reflects the other. He might have found the promptings to a higher strain, MEASURE OF SPEECH. 133 in the spirit of some other lines of his, which truly de- scribe the versification of some of the great masters of song who preceded him. " Where order in variety we see, And where though all things differ, all agree." Of all our poets, Shakspeare and Milton are the most distinguished for the happy mechanism of their verse. In their free use of quantity, in the variety of the syllabic impulses of their measures, and in the adjustment of their pauses, they ring every change of rythm of which the language is susceptible; undulating through each de- scription of measure, from the long drawn time of a single syllable, to that of four, and in an order that ever charms the ear. " In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness well drawn out, With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, The melting voice through mazes running; Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of Harmony." V Allegro. The scored extracts contained in this Grammar, will display to the eye the variety of the rythm which distin- guishes the verse of these great masters of the lyre : but it must be read as it is scored in order to do them "fair justice ;" to show how appropriate a vehicle it is, for the glorious thoughts and images which it conveys, or rather which "voluntary move" its " harmonious numbers." The most perfect measures are those occupied by two or three syllables ; and which may be called common or triple measures. The measure next in the order of pre- 12 I 134 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. valence, may be termed emphatic ; it consists of a single syllable, so protracted in quantity, as to admit in its pro- nunciation, of the accented and unaccented function of the voice. The combined stately and lyrical effect of much of Milton's poetry, depends on the nice adjustment of these respective measures. The following are striking examples. Hail I holy | light 7 | offspring of | heaven | first 7 A /. I A .-, born. A /. Milton frequently uses a measure of four syllables, which may be called the accelerated measure, from the rapidity with which the syllables must be uttered, to be crowded within the time of the musical bar. The following is an instance of great variety, with the occasional use of the quadruple measure. Rocks 7 I Caves 7 I lakes 7 I fens 7 I bogs 7 1 /. /. I A /. I A /. I A /. I A /. I dens and I shades of I death I A .'. I A /. I A /. I 7 A I universe of I death 7 I 7 which 1 God by I A .'. I A.'. /. /. I A /. I A /. A /. I curse A .-. 7 Cre- 1 ated I evil I 7 7 I 7 for I evil I only A .'. I A .'. I A /. I A .-. I A .-. I A /. I A /. good; 7 A 7 Where I aU I Iife7 I dies? I 77 I death? I lives? A .% I A.'. I A /. I A .'. I A/. I A /. I A /. 7 and I nature I breeds 7 I A .-. I .-. /. A /. MEASURE OF SPEECH. 135 7 Per- A /. verse, 7 | A .% digious A /. all . | A.'. things; A monstrous A .'. all pro- A .'. 7A- A .'. bominable A /. /. .'. 7 un- A .'. utterable A /. /. /. 7 and A .'. 7 Than A /. 77 A/. fables A /. ceived 7 A /. Gorgons and A /. /. dire. 7 A yet have A Hydras A .'. 77 A .' feigned or worse A /. fear con- A .-. 7 and Chi- A /. /. meras A /. Milton and Shakspeare frequently interpose a syllable in their lines, above the authorized number ; thus, " Hov-e-rinor a space, till winds the signal blow, Who durst defy th-e Omnipotent to arms, To beg the voice and utt-e-rance of my tongue ? Abom-i-nable, unutt-er-able, and worse," etc. This grace note of the line, which makes an essential part of the musical bar, without disturbance to the mea- sure, and with an increase of the general harmony, some finger counting critics, strike out by erision, to show, I suppose, that they understand measure better than did the poet. In the editions of these sage revisers, the lines would stand thus ; " Ifow'-ring a space, etc., Who durst defy tfi'om-nipotent to arms, To beg the voice and u'-rance," etc. Whoever has opportunity of inspecting the old editions of our great bards, will find that their nearer presence 136 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. prevented the commission of these barbarities upon their verse. The knowing personages above mentioned, had better be told once for all, that the lines cannot be har- moniously read upon the principle of their elision : they are therefore earnestly besought, in future to betake themselves to other amusement, than that of deforming the fair pages of English poetry, to the great annoyance of all ears but such as their own. The measure of five syllables is almost always incon- venient in utterance, and should be broken up, by a rest, into two portions. The | voice | 7 is in- I capable of I A /. .'. /. sus- I taining it | 7 with ag- | reeable | effect. Neither Milton nor Shakspeare, ever employ a mea- sure of more than four syllables : and this must, necessa- rily, be greatly accelerated. It will be seen, that many of the lines of English verse begin with an imperfect measure, as the musical line does: but as every measure is supposed perfect, the part that is wanting, is always indicated by the rest, in order that the principle of the theory may be maintained throughout. Another important fact connected with the measure, requires to be stated. It is, that in order to produce harmonious succession, the voice must percepti- bly move from the heavy to the light syllable, and not from the light to the heavy one. This movement pre- vails in music, and it is equally necessary in speech. The heavy syllable always begins the bar, in the order of the movement, or the exceptions are accounted for by the mark 7, and the principle of the theory is thus main- tained. MEASURE OF SPEECH. 137 The scoring in the exercises, will demonstrate the same necessity for measure in prose, as in verse ; the only difference in the mechanism of the two, consists in the more frequent changes in the quotional parts of the measures of prose, and in the absence of the regular re- sponses which are found in verse. We have here en- deavoured to demonstrate the true principles of English prosody. If we are not mistaken, such a view as we have presented of measure, in what has been already said, will throw some light both on composition and delivery. One of the most effectual methods of impressing a just prosody upon the ear, is by teaching the art of reading. The prosody makes an essential part of the tune of speech, if we may be allowed the term, and in its proso- dial arrangement, lies one half of its charm. The me- chanism of good composition, consists in the happy ad- justment of quantity and accent, subject to a varied and harmonious measure ; and over these the ear presides. To teach reading, on the principle of a just prosody, is to teach writing at the same time, as far as its mechan- ism is concerned. We have therefore deemed it proper to present a series of rythmical copies for the use of students, calculated to form their, ear and voice upon the principles of prosody we have explained. But this is not all ; the preservation of health and life is often suspended on the habits of a speaker with regard to measure. A speaker who preserves his measure, will never be inconvenienced for want of breath, and will, by favor of that circumstance, always be able to employ force where it is wanted, with full effect ; and what is more, with safety to his health. On this account also, I have deemed it necessary to present in this work, such a 12* 138 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. series of scored exercises as may form the habit of read- ing and speaking by measure. They are sufficiently nu- merous for that purpose, if the pupil exercises his own ear by scoring the pieces in another book, by way of practice, and then compares what he has done with what is to be found here. But the importance of measure as regards the health and safety of persons devoted to public speaking, deserves a separate and more particular consideration. As we before observed, the larynx performs the double function of an organ subservient to respiration, and to speech. During the emission of sound in the latter, inspiration cannot take place. Hence discourse must be broken up into portions. A very little attention will enable a person to perceive that pauses occur much oftener than is indi- cated by the common marks of punctuation. The me- thod of notation adopted in the Exercises, is intended to show that the beginning and end of a measure is the be- ginning and end of one effort of the larynx, and that all the pauses indicated by the mark 7, are to be observed in delivery. The pauses make an essential part of the measures. To prove the importance of observing these in delivery, let a person read with considerable force one of the pieces, say Henry's address to his troops before the gates of Harfleur, with a frequent neglect of the rests indicated by the mark 7, he will frequently find himself out of breath. Let him then read it, observing the no- tation, with as much force as he can command, and with a quick measure, such as the piece requires, and he will find that no inconvenience with regard to respiration, will occur. A few physiological considerations will account for these facts. MEASUilE OF SPEECH.\v /* 139 It is to be recollected that by the measured action of the heart, a certain quantity of blood is brought at each pulsation of the heart to the lungs, for the purpose of coming into contact with the inspired air, received through the larynx. The moving powers, external to the chest, together with the intercostal muscles, elevate and de- press the chest by alternate actions, so regulated as to correspond with the action of the heart, and consequent- ly with the flow of blood to the lungs. But as during speech, there can be no inspiration, speech must be so regulated, as not to interfere with the functions described, or it must be, in proportion to its interference, injurious to respiration and health. Now the fact turns out to be, that if speech is regulated by measure, no impediment is offered to the process of respiration, and that fact is pro- ved by the circumstance, which I here announce without fear of contradiction, and subject to experiment, namely, that if the pauses marked out by the scoring, are regular- ly observed, there never will be any inconvenience expe- rienced from want of breath : that elocution, if conducted on the principles of the prosody here explained, and fully set forth in the exercises, will be found (where no actual disease exists in the lungs,) a healthful and invigorating exercise. If this is true, it demonstrates that the measure of speech, originates in the measured action of the heart, and of the moving powers of the chest. Speech and circulation are sometimes to go on for a considerable length of time together, and the action of the larynx is directly related to the times of the return of the blood from the heart to the lungs, in other words to the circu- lating powers. The Prosody, here explained, ascertains 140 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION..* and shews the laws of that action. Their effect is to produce such a movement of the organ of voice, as shall not disturb the influx and efflux of air required, at sta- ted intervals, to renovate the vital fluid. If these principles of physiology are sound, as I am persuaded they are, then, it is of great importance that the method of teaching reading and public speaking, here insisted upon, be adopted : not merely because a correct prosody is graceful and harmonious, but because, the observation of measure in speech is necessary to the ex- ercise of its functions with safety to the health, and often to the lives, of those who follow it as a profession. If I might venture to refer to personal experience, I might say that it is a matter of surprise to my acquaintance, that I am able to endure, without destruction of health, the amount of forcible speaking which I daily practice, but perhaps, the preceding observations may account for it in a satisfactory manner. The law of speech, which I have here explained, is one of a series of laws, bearing a common relation to one another, and to the vital functions of the body. It will be found, in addition to the facts already stated, that the pauses which are marked out in the exercises, cannot be neglected without injury to the harmony and the sense. In other words, that speaking which is regulated by measure, and the consequent exact observation of the rests, is most agreeable and most intelligible. If a fre- quent omission of pauses is made, the sense will be invol- ved in obscurity. Here too, we see the beautiful result of those related laws of the living system, by the com- bined effect of which, a series of different, complicated and often apparently interfering functions, proceed for the MEASURE OF SPEECH. 141 benefit of the whole system. Measure is most easy to the speaker; by a beautiful law of relation it constitutes a prosody grateful to the hearer ; but the sensorial func- tions (what they are we pretend not to divine) are in their turn related to the vital ones ; for the speaking which is easy and harmonious, is also most intelligible. The pauses which are required for easy respiration, for the harmonious flow that delights the ear, disentangle the sense and enable the mind to perceive the relations of thought with facility and clearness. But there are ob- jectors, we may be sure, who will urge, that if this sys- tem were true, it would be natural to speak in perfect measure. All persons who speak agreeably and smooth- ly, and we now and then hear such, do speak for the most part by measure. But we admit, most do not ; and we assert that all who do not, speak with great inconven- ience and exhaustion to themselves. We maintain against all the admirers of natural faults, and the decri- ers of artificial excellence, that it is not natural to do any thing well, which is liable to disturbance, from ignorance, and the irregularity of the will, and, consequently, from faulty habits. The action of the organ of voice is vol- untary, but the circulation is not, hence the one is liable to disturbance from the causes just stated, which is not the case with the other. Simplicity in thought and ex- pression is not natural. The power of saying just what is proper in an argument and no more, is not natural ; ease and grace of execution in any art, is not natural ; the art of speech among the number. The fine arts do not look to what is natural but to what is agreeable. Their principle is founded on the approbation of taste, not on the habits of the multitude. In all matters where 142 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. choice is exercised it is not the concern of philosophy to defend what w, but to shew what ought to be. We invite the reader to go into a school of young per- sons with this grammar in his hand ; let them be called upon to read some of the pieces it contains, out of an- other book. He will soon be made sensible of the im- portance of marking the accent and pauses, by the frequent violations of them, which he will instantly hear. He will see how important they are as fundamental points, in the art of reading, to easy, harmonious, and intelligible de- livery. The habit of reading with attention to them, is very rare, though health, ease of speaking, and a clear picture of the sense of what is read, require it. We therefore, have thought it best to teach the mode of read- ing, as writing is taught, by " setting copies" for the pu- pil. Those copies will enable him, if he is attentive, to score for himself; they will fix the habit of right reading, a habit he will never lose and which will be found of immense importance to future health and comfort.* QUESTIONS TO RECITATION ELEVENTH. 1 . What constitutes a measure in speech ? 2. What is meant by an imperfect measure ? * Some years ago I published a book of scored exercises ; 2000 copies were sold. I am assured by numerous Teachers in Philadel- phia, who have used them, that they have led to a great reforma- tion in the reading of their schools. They compel young persons to read deliberately, and mind their stops. MEASURE OF SPEECH. 143 3. Demonstrate with the voice the measure of a sin- gle syllable. 4. One of two syllables. 5. One of three. 6. One of four. 7. One of five. 8. What is the greatest number of syllables which can be crowded into a measure ? 9. How is rythmus defined ? 10. What are the measures on which verse is based? 11. How is verse distinguished from prose 3 12. What constitutes an agreeable rythm ? 13. The student is required to score the first section of the apostrophe to the Queen of France, Elocutionist, page 12, and the three sections of Gray's Elegy, Elocu- tionist, page 260. RECITATION TWELFTH. EMPHASIS. HAVING now given an account of the elements of speech, which may be called the working materials of the reader and speaker, we proceed to show their appli- cation, in expressing in a forcible manner, the sentiments and emotions of the mind. Nothing will demonstrate more clearly, the importance of elementary investigation, than the fact, that all those powers of the voice which it has enabled us to record, are employed in emphasis : sometimes singly, but oftener in combination: for we must here observe, that though in describing the separate powers, we speak of them as such, yet in the expression of our sentiments, they are almost always combined. There is a natural tendency to crowd elements together when words are employed emphatically. They are, then, frequently, the symbols of our feelings, and the dif- ferent functions of the voice are summoned, not in the order we have described them, but in every possible combination, in order to give utterance to those feelings. We shall speak, however, in the first place, of the effects of the different elements separately, in producing em- phasis. Emphasis is that employment of the voice by which some syllables, and consequently the words which they constitute, or of which they make a part, are rendered specially impressive, by means of increased stress, pe- culiar quality of voice, quantity, or change of pitch, or by EMPHASIS. 145 the combination of any two or more of these. We shall not, in this Recitation, discuss the application of empha- sis, but only show the ways by which it is accomplished. A perception of the grammatical construction of a pas- sage, of its special meaning, of the kind and amount of feeling it is intended to convey ; in a word, of the rela- tions of thought in the author's mind, are the circumstan- ces which must regulate the application of emphasis to syllables, words, and portions of sentences. Precise rules cannot be laid down for this. We can only recom- mend a nice and rigid analysis of the import of what is read, in order that emphasis may be employed with cor- rectness. Emphasis of radical stress so denominated by Dr. Rush, Phil. Hum. Voice. It is effected by giving mark- ed percussion to the utterance of those syllables which re- quire its use. It expresses a variety of emotions, according to the tenor of the subject. It is appropriate to anger, wrath, rage ; also to mirth, raillery, positiveness of con- viction, confidence, exultation, joy, courage, authority, command, and to all states of violent feeling. A change in radical and concrete pitch, and short quantity, are ge- nerally required with this kind of emphasis. The following are examples. The syllables are itali- cised on which the percussion is most strongly made. EXAMPLE 1. " Whence and what art thou, e.r-ecrable shape?" Milton. The speeches both of Satan and Death, are marked by a high degree of radical stress. See Elocutionist, page 341, sect. 7, 8, 9. 13 146 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. EXAMPLE 2. fct And ?-ec&-onest thou thyself with spirits of heaven, hell downed ? " Sir, I, in the most express terms, deny the comp- etency of parliament to do this act." In this example, the voice adopts a falling slide, to in- crease the positiveness and antithetic expression of the syllable " comp," and thus adds to its emphasis. The following sentence will show a series of emphatic words, each requiring very marked percussion. " Back to thy^M^-ishment False /w-gitive, and to thy speed add wings." The rise of a radical fifdi, upon the word " back," the fall of a fifth on "punishment" a rise again through the same interval on "false" and another falling fifth on "fu- gitive" will greatly enhance the emphatic character of the words above cited. The word " add" should have a high note with downward slide. Examples of emphasis will of course, if read with pro- per expression, generally display a combination of ele- ments. For purposes of illustration, we must refer, in the respective examples, to such as are found prominent- ly marked. But we shall mention in each case, the most obvious combinations ; because this method, if not the most philosophical, will prove the most instructive to the student. Where strong percussion is employed to emphasise a word or words, the emphasis is often enhanced by a high note, and a downward slide. EXAMPLE 1. I tell you, that if, circumstanced as you are, you pass EMPHASIS. 147 this act, it will b a nullity, and that no man in Ireland will be bound to obey it. Elocutionist, page 6. The rise in the note, makes a more lively picture, es- pecially as contrasted with the intense downward slide : these with percussion, emphasise a short syllable very powerfully ; but there is more of authoritative dignity in a lower pitch, that is, in simple percussion, without rise of note. EXAMPLE. Sir, I thank administration for this measure. The confidence here expressed, will be diminished by a rise of note upon the word " thank." The following extract, from Collins' Ode, if read dra- matically, will exhibit the radical stress upon the emphatic syllables. Last came Joy's extatic trial. He, with viny crown advancing, First to the lively pipe his hand addressed ; But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol, Whose ,sweet entrancing voice he loved the best. They would have thought, who heard the strain, They saw, in Tempe's vale, her native maids, To some unwearied minstrel dancing ; While, as his flying fingers kissed the strings, Love framed with mirth, a gay fantastic round ; Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound ; And he, amidst his frolic play, As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings. Emphasis of median force, or median stress. IN this emphasis, as has been already stated, the force 148 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. increases upon the syllable gradually f is greatest in the middle, and then gradually declines to the usual vanish ; though sometimes the force increases to the end of the syllable. This emphasis will exalt the import of words of long quantity, to which, it is, from its nature, exclusively appli- ed. It is most appropriate to dignified subjects ; to words which convey awful warning, smooth insinuation, reve- rential awe, sublime exultation, the lofty but chastised emotions of personal and religious veneration, of sober enthusiasm, joy, hope, and surprise. When united with the downward slide, it is often a very striking emphasis. EXAMPLE 1. I warn you, do not dare to lay your hand on the con- stitution. EXAMPLE 2. " We praise thee, O God, we acknowledge thee to be the Lord." EXAMPLE 3. Horatio. He was a goodly king. Hamlet. He was a man. In this example, the word man has a strong falling slide. Juliet. Oh swoar not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly chang-es in her circled orb. " We know what we worship, for salvation is of the Jews." " And Nathan said unto. David, Thou art the man," EMPHASIS. 149 The smoothness of flattery cannot now avail : cannot nave us in this rugged and awful crisis. Emphasis applied at the vanish of a syllable, or em- phasis of vanishing stress. This and the compound stress, need not be disunited in our illustrations. They express ardent impatience, angry complaint, threatening vengeance, and earnest interrogation. Compound stress. Arm, warriors, arm for fight Vanishing. Cassius. / an itching palm ? You know that you are Brutus that speak this, Or by the Gods, this speech were e.lse your last. Brutus. The name of Cassius honors this corruption, And chastisement does therefore hide its head. Cassius. Ctaw-tisement ! Brutus. Must I give way to your rash choler t Must I be frighted when a mad-man stares ? Cassius. O ye God*, ye Gods, must I endure all this ? The first and last of these examples, are given by Dr. Rush, in his Philosophy of the Human Voice. Hamlet. Saw who ? Horatio. My lord, the king, your/a-ther. Hamlet. The king my^/a-ther ? Hamlet. 'Tis /, Ham-let, the Dane. This last, is, I think, an example of compound stress. The following, I think will best read with a mixture of radical and compound stress. "The game's &foot; Pol-lew your spirit, and upon this charge, Cry God for ffor-ry, g-J-and, and Saint George/' 13* 150 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Emphasis of quantity. A very extended time given to words, exalts their import. It is applicable only to syllables of long quantity, and to dignified and pathetic subjects. It describes time, quality, and the properties of things generally. The following are conspicuous examples of quantity. " Nine times the space that measures day and night, To mortal men, he with his horrid crew Lay vanquished." " But his doom Reserved him to more wrath." Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven. " Darkened so, yet shone Above them all, the arch-an-gel." " Or of the eternal co-eternal beam ; This knows my punisher." In thy sight shall no man living be justified. Sometimes this long quantity is united with the semi- tone ; the following are examples. ' Spare thou those, O God, who confess their faults." " Res-tore thou them that are penitent." The whole of these two last sentences require a plain- tive movement ; but the words marked in italics, require a great deal of quantity to distinguish them from the others. Emphasis of pitch. Words receive emphasis by dif- fering in their concrete and radical pitch, from other words which accompany them. EMPHASIS. 151 Slide of the rising octave. This is employed in In- terrogation, of the most piercing and earnest kind ; and also when a question is accompanied with strong sneer, with raillery, and mirthful banter. The following are instances. Shylock. What should I say to you, should I not say Hath a dog money ? Is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? The last quoted, is a fine example, and is given by Dr. Rush, Philosophy of the Human Voice. Falstaff. A king's son ? You, Prince of Wales ? Discrete rising octave. " So frowned the mighty combatants, that hell Grew darker at their frown, so matched they stood." This interval should be heard on the word "matched" in the dramatic reading, or public declamation of this piece. Elocutionist, page 344, sect. 12. Rising concrete 5th." This is employed in earnest in- terrogation and emphasis. EXAMPLE. Hamlet. Saw who ? Horatio. My lord, the king, your father ? Hamlat. The king, myyh-ther ? Rising radical 5th. EXAMPLES. " And shouted but once more aloud, My Father! must I stay?" Elocutionist, page 289, sect. 7. 152 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. " Is there, as you sometimes tell us, /* there one who reigns on high ? Has he bid you buy and sell us, Speaking from his throne, the sky ?' ; Elocutionist, page 306, sect. 4. " He woke to hear his sentry's shriek, To arms ! they come ! The Greek ! The Greek !" Elocutionist, page 308, sect. 3. Rising concrete and radical third. The rising con- crete third, is appropriate to that kind of interrogation employed for the mere purpose of information. It is also employed for emphasis and especially for the pur- pose of marking emphatic words which are conditional and concessive. Concrete. " What, looked he /rotcn-ingly ? His beard was grizzled ?" Radical. " If thou hadst known the gift of God, And who it is that saith to thee, give me to drink," etc. The words in the last example, marked in italics, are, as may be seen, conditional, and require, for empha- sis, to be raised a third in radical pitch. EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD SLIDE AND OF DOWNWARD RADICAL PITCH. A command over the downward slide, and over the downward radical movements, is of the utmost importance to all who wish to read or speak with effect. In the first place the downward movements of the voice are in them- EMPHASIS. 153 selves very expressive : besides which a ready use of them enables a speaker to avoid the monotony of a constant or too frequent rise in his emphatic words. This is a very common fault of delivery. The falling slide marks exclusive emphasis. It insu- lates a word from the rest of the sentence, and sets it in a more prominent and imposing point of view than any other modification of pitch. It expresses strong convic- tion is required in positive assertion, in denunciation, in the expression of indignation, and indignant resolve, and is peculiarly proper in all cases where solemnity is combined with emphasis. The intensity of the down- ward slide differs in the various forms of an octave a fifth and a third, concrete and discrete. The following example will show the downward slide of the voice, in different degrees of intensity. The first word marked in italics is to be made a downward third the next may be a fifth, and the climax may be completed upon the word " there" by the most intense form of the downward slide, that of an octave. " If I ascend into Heaven thou art there ; if I make my bed in Hell, behold thou art there ; if I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, ev-en there, shall thy hand lead me and thy right hand shall hold me." It will be necessary first to elevate the voice upon the word " there," in order to carry the slide low enough to exhibit its intensest form. Emphasis of the downward concrete fifth. " / am the resurrection and the life." " And Nathan said unto David, Thou art the man." 154 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Discrete. Army of fiends^ body to fa head. Sarcasm can always be expressed upon a succession of short syllables by alternate rising and falling radical fifths combined with stress. Where it becomes necessa- ry to express a sneer and the syllables are too short for the slide of the unequal wave, the discrete fifths fulfil its of- fice, as they do in this last example. Let the first "fit" descend a fifth in radical pitch below " body" and " head" a fifth below the second "fit" and the effect we contem- plate will be produced. Falling concrete third. ' I am amazed, yes my Lords, I am amazed at his Grace's speech." Discrete falling third. " He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." " Believest thou this ?" The " this" descends a third for emphasis, and ends with a rising slide. " Ye know not what ye worship, We know what we worship." The following is an example of variety in emphasis. The syllables intended to be specified are in italics. 1. Are they .He-brews? So am I. 2. Are they Js-raelites ? So am I. 3. Are they the seed of ./26-raham ? So am I. 4. Are they Ministers of Christ ? I am more. Let No. 1 rise both discretely and concretely. " 2 fall discretely and rise concretely. " 3 fall concretely a third. " 4 rise higher than the last discretely, and fall concretely with stress. EMPHASIS. 155 Emphasis of waves. Waves are used only where quantity is required with marked emphasis. Equal direct wave of the third. " Upon the watery plain the wrecks are all thy deed. Equal direct wave of the fifth. " My sect them seest." Paradise Lost, book 6, /. 147. Whoever will turn to the passage, will find that the ex- ulting triumph is best expressed, by the long drawn time of this emphatic wave. The unequal direct waves are marked in italics, in the following passage. " National pride, independence of our country these we are told by the minister, are only vwZ-gar topics, fitted for the meridian of the mob ; but utterly un-worthy the consideration of this house, or of the matured under- standing of the noble lord who condescends to instruct it." Plunket. " Hadst thou alleged to thy deserted host this cause of flight, thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive." Emphasis of the tremor. The tremor expresses ex- ultation, admiration, joy, rapture, when united with other intervals than the semitone. When combined with the se- mitone, it increases its effect. EXAMPLES. " Thou g-Jo-rious mirror where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests." " Now give the Hautboy's breath, he comes, he comes." " And where is the bosom friend, dearer than all." This last example requires the semitone. " Shook thousand odors from his dewy wings." 150 GRAMMAR OF ELOCCTION. Emphasis of Aspiration. EXAMPLES. Brutus. Peace, peace, you durst not so have tempted him. Cassius. I durst not ! Guttural Emphasis. An example may be found in the reply of Pierre to Jaffier. u Whence these chains ? Whence the vile death, which I may meet this moment? Whence this dishonor, but from thee, thou false one ? Emphasis of the semitone. EXAMPLE. " For I was as it were a Child of thee." Eloc. p< 232, sect. 8. A SERIES OF ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF EMPHASIS, WITH SHORT EXPLANATIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL ELEMENTS EMPLOYED. THE EMPHATIC SYLLABLES, ARE IN ITALICS. EXAMPLE 1. " Exercise and temperance, strengthen even an in- This example shows a high note on the emphatic syl- lable, with a downward slide, and some little increase of percussive stress. EXAMPLE 2. " You were paid tofght against Alexander, not to rail at him." The antithesis is effected by a high note, downward slide, and percussive stress, on the first syllable, and a EMPHASIS. 1 57 high note, long quantity, and downward slide, on the second. EXAMPLE 3. " He raised a mortal to the skies ; She drew an ang-e\ down." High note, with quantity and stress on the first sylla- ble ; rise of note, with downward slide upon the next ; high note, with quantity on the next ; intense downward slide on " she ;" rise of note with quantity and downward slide on " ang ;" intense downward slide on " down." EXAMPLE 4. " Seems, madam ? Nay it is, I know not seems." Rise of note upon the " is," of a fifth, downward slide of the same, with extended quantity, and swell or median stress. EXAMPLE 5. "The tempt-eT^ere the ac-cw-ser of mankind." High note, downward slide, and percussive stress, on the short syllable " tempt ;" long quantity on the " CM." EXAMPLE 6. I had rather be \hefirst man in that w7Z-age, than the sec-ond in Rome. High note on "first" with simple downward slide ; high note, deep downward slide, with stress, on " ml ;" low note, with stress on "sec;" downward slide on " Rome." EXAMPLE 7. A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty, is worth a whole e-fer-nity of bondage. 14 158 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. High note on "hour" with strong percussion, and deep downward slide; a rise of note, with deep down- ward slide, and median swell, on " ter." EXAMPLE 8. " I would not turn aside from my least pleasure, Though all thy force were armed to bar my way." High note on the " thy" with extended quantity, and inverted equal wave, of the second. EXAMPLE 9. Tis base, and poor, unworthy of a man, To forge a scroll, so villainous and base, And mark it with a noble ladies' name. "Man" has a high note, with inverted equal wave of the third. EXAMPLE 10. 'Tis well, we'll try the temper of your heart. " Try" has a high note, deep downward slide, with median stress. EXAMPLE 11. You are my /tuA--band's friend, the friend of wj/t-aniont. High note on " hus" with simple downward slide, and some stress ; the same on " Alt" A deep downward slide, would entirely change the meaning. These examples are taken from Walker's Elocution. It was my business to describe the elements employed upon them. EMPHASIS. 159 QUESTIONS TO RECITATION TWELFTH. The student is required to exhibit the following instan- ces of emphasis. 1. Emphasis of percussion. 2. Of quantity. 3. Of median stress. 4. Of vanishing stress. 5. Of compound. 6. Of a rising third, 7. A rising fifth, 8. An octave, ^ > Concrete and discrete. 9. Of a falling third, 10. Of a fifth, 11. Of an octave, 12. Of an equal wave of the second, ) -p.. ' f Direct and in- 13. Of the third, 14. Of the fifth, 15. Of aspiration. 16. Guttural emphasis. 17. Of the semitone. 18. Of an unequal wave. RECITATION THIRTEENTH. ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. WE have stated that speech expresses our sentiments, by the varied use of abruptness, force, time, pitch, and quality of voice. These are to be employed in deline- ating the special relations of thought, which it is the ob- ject of written language to disclose. The intellectual part of the Art of Elocution, consists in discovering these re- lations. In the plainest prose, there are points in almost every clause, which require to be pressed upon the atten- tion more than others ; but a thorough discovery of what these points are, requires nice analysis. After they are discovered, the properties of the voice which have been described throughout this grammar, if judiciously em- ployed, will always set them in a prominent light. I know not how the analysis of written language can be taught, otherwise than by the selection of a few instances in which its application is demonstrated. When the student knows there is such a thing as analysis necessary, in order to read in a correct and discriminating manner, and is shown, by a few examples, how it is effected, he will pro- ceed in other cases with increasing clearness by time and practice. The firsj instance we will select, is from Fox's History of James. It is a part of the account of the execution of the Earl of Argyle. " Having then asked pardon for his own faults, both of God and man, he would have concluded, but being remin- ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 161 ded that he had said nothing of the ROYAL FAMILY, he adds, that he refers in that matter, to what he said, at his trial, concerning the test that he prayed there never might be wanting one of the royal family to SUP- PORT the PROTESTANT RELIGION and if any of them had swerved from the true faith he prayed God to turn their hearts, but at any rate TO SAVE HIS PEO- PLE FROM THEIR MACHINATIONS." It will be evident, on a just analysis of this passage, that the words " royal family" require to be strongly marked in the first clause, and to be cast into compara- tive shade in that in which they next occur. Here the support of the protestant religion, is evidently uppermost in the mind of the Earl, and the train of thought which is most prominent, is to be marked by the voice. The word " swerved," is a pointed allusion to the well known sentiments of the king, and requires to be designated as the leading idea of the next clause. The "true faith," is secondary here, as an object of attention ; it is the swerving from it, which is the main sentiment. Again, the Earl prays that the heart of the king may be turned, but still more earnestly, that the people may be saved from the machinations of Popery. Now that this vivid picture of the thoughts of a man of strong feel- ings and stern opinions, should be in perfect keeping, all the parts we have enumerated, should occupy prominent stations in it. There are other nice modifications of thought in the passage, but the observations we have already made, will show what it is our object to display, the nature of the, analysis on which we would insist. The subject may be considered under the following- general heads. 14* 162 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 1 . Portions of discourse to be prominently marked. 2. Parts that require shade. 3. Distant parts, intimately related to each other in the connection of thought, but separated to the eye by inter- vening matter. Before we produce examples under these respective heads, we would observe, that the important part of all words, (where they consist of more syllables than one,) is the accented syllable ; and the analysis will be render- ed more compendious, by bearing in mind that it gene- rally turns upon a few accented syllables ; sometimes upon a single one. By recollecting this, the eye will run over these to discover their relations in the order of thought with each other, and by a little practice, will un- fold those relations with almost intuitive rapidity and clearness. 1 . Exhibition of parts requiring strong light. I speak in the spirit of British LAW, which makes LIBERTY commensurate with, and inseparable from, British SOIL ; which proclaims even to the stranger and the sojourner, the moment he sets his foot upon British earth, that the ground on which he treads is HOLY, and CONSECRATED, by the genius of uni- versal emancipation. No matter in what language his doom may have been pronounced ; no matter what complection, incompatible with freedom, an Indian or African sun may have burnt upon him ; no matter in what disastrous battle his liberty may have been clo- ven down ; nor with what solemnities he may have been devoted upon the altar of slavery ; the moment he touches the sacred soil of BRITAIN, the altar and the God ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 163 SINK together in the dust ; his soul walks abroad in her own majesty ; and he stands REDEEMED, REGE- NERATED, and DISENTHRALLED, by the IR- RESISTIBLE genius of universal emancipation. 2. Parts that require shade. Parentheses, in particular, as interrupting and crossing the main current of thought, are of this description ; but they are to be shaded only because they do thus inter- rupt and cross that current; when intervening matter does this in other instances, the intrusiveness of its cha- racter should be marked by the voice. Parentheses are to be slurred. We have often stated, that varieties of stress, time, and pitch, exalt the meaning of discourse ; they may be so used as to depress its im- portance. In parentheses, and interrupting clauses ge- nerally, the pitch and force of the voice, is to be lowered ; the pitch, force, time, and quality of the voice, is to be alike, or nearly so, on all the syllables, and their quantity is to be abridged. A lower pitch, lessened force, quick- er time, and similarity of condition, in all the syllables as to stress, time, pitch, and quality of voice, then consti- tute slurring a most important function, and which we shall illustrate in a few marked instances, and not of pa- renthesis merely. The following may serve as examples of parenthesis. The slurred parts are in italics. " When, therefore, the Lord knew how the Pharisees had heard that Jesus made, and baptised more disciples than John, (though Jesus himself baptised not, but his disciples,) he left Judea and departed again into Galilee." St. John, ch. iv., v. 1. 164 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. The miserable inhabitants, (flying from their flaming villages,} in part were slaughtered. Others, (without re- gard to sex, to age, to rank, or sacredness of junction, fathers torn from children, husbands from wives, enveloped in a whirlwind of cavalry, and amid the goading spears of drivers, and the trampling of pursuing horses,) were swept into captivity, in an unknown and hostile land. Repetition requires shade. He said unto THEM, he put clay upon mine eyes, and I washed, and do see. St. John, ch. ix., v. 15. Why is the man's statement of facts slurred in this instance ? Because it had been made before, as will be seen by reference to the chapter. A repetition of the same expressions, always requires to be slurred, unless intended to be emphatic for a particular purpose. Here is another instance. " And the son SAID unto his father, father, J have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son ; make me one of thy hired servants" He had previously employed the same expressions. This is a very beautiful instance of the shading effect of the slur. Important clauses sometimes require that others should be slurred to place them in a strong light, by contrast. EXAMPLE. The smoothness of flattery cannot NOW avail cannot SAVE us in this rugged and awful crisis. "When the wicked man turaeth AWAY from the wickedness which he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive." ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 165 What PROFIT hath a man of all his labor, which he lakeih under the sun. The thing which HAS been, it is that which SHALL be, and that which IS done, is that which SHALL be done, and there is no NEW thing under the sun. IS there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new'? The capitals in the foregoing examples, show the em- phatic words; the italic letters, the slurred parts. The parts of discourse to which slurring may be appli- ed, must depend on the modifications of thought ; but when rightly employed, it is a great beauty of delivery. Good reading and speaking consists in the continual va- riety of light and shade, made by the proper adjustment of the functions of the voice, according to the importance of the matter subjected to its disposal. Examples of distant parts intimately related in grammat- ical or rhetorical connection and thought, but separated to the eye. And SEND'ST HIM (shivering in thy playful spray, And howling to his Gods] WHERE happy lies His petty hope, in some near port or bay, etc. Childe Harold. Elocutionist, sect. 4, p. 283, The distant words always require some form of em- phasis, in cases like the above, to effect the proper vocal expression of their syntax. " THOU ! (glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests,} in ALL time, 166 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. (Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the Pole, or in the torrid clime, Dark /leaving) BOUNDLESS, ENDLESS, and SUBLIME. See Elocut., p. 283, sect. 7. About her middle round, A cry of HELL HOUNDS (never ceasing) BARKED, (With wide cerberian mouths full loud] and RUNG A hideous peal. The hell hounds barking, and (in so barking,) ringing a hideous peal, constitute the main current of the thought in this passage ; and this order of ideas is to be repre- sented by connecting the substantive " hell hounds" with the two verbs " barked" and " rung" and casting over the cross current which breaks in upon this order a strong shade. After dinner he retired, (as was his custom,) to his bedchamber, WHERE, (it is recorded,) he SLEPT quietly, for about a quarter of an hour. Elocut., p. 38, sect. 1. Few persons have ever read this passage to me, with- out giving it such an intonation as made "recorded" refer to the "bedchamber;" whereas the word " slept," refers to the bedchamber, and the parenthesis is to be carefully separated from all connection with it, " And then he beheld, enjoying a sweet and tranquil SLUMBER, the man, WHO, (by the doom of him and his fellows,) was to DIE within the SHORT SPACE of TWO HOURS." The extraordinary fact is, that a man should sleep so near execution. Consequently, the connection between these two ideas, is to be revealed strongly by the voice. ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 167 His FRIEND (who was apprised of the state he was in, and who naturally concluded he ivas ill,) OFFERED him some wine. The syntax here does not require observation. May THE LIKE SERENITY (in such dreadful circumstances,) and a DEATH EQUALLY GLORI- OUS, be the lot of all whom TYRANNY, (of whatever denomination or description,) SHALL, (in any age, or in any country,) CALL to expiate their virtues on the scaffold. The main current here is, " may the like serenity, and a death equally glorious, be the lot of all whom tyranny shall call to expiate their virtues on the scaffold." The cross currents so frequently interrupt the natural order of the thoughts, as to render this a scarcely tolerable passage. This last example, and several others which we have cited, shew the intimate connection between the arts of composition and delivery. This is a subject which can- not be pursued here. But, it must be obvious that such an analysis as is necessary to present a clear picture of thought in delivery, cannot fail to reveal, the latent beau- ties as well as defects of composition. The art of Rhe- toric cannot but derive assistance from that of Elocution ; since a careful consideration of the nice relations of thought, in written language is constantly necessary to its practice. Every exertion of it consists in the application of a subtle test, by which composition, as a medium of con- veying thought and sentiment, is tried. The arts of Rhe- toric and Delivery are therefore intimately related, and 168 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. assist each other; and we may remind those who afiect great zeal for the one, and contemn the other, of what Ba- con used to say, when he experienced a temporary diffi- culty, from two passages of scripture which he could not immediately reconcile. " Ye are brethren, why strive ye?" In terminating these remarks on the analysis of written language, I would take occasion to observe, that the right application of the elements of the voice is not (in my opinion) to be expected from a multiplication of rules. Language is bestowed upon us for the purpose of setting forth our thoughts and feelings but the modifications of these are so multifarious, and the methods of expressing them by the voice so numerous, that no system can bind the particulars of the art of Elocution into any thing like a complete series of grammatical rules. Hence all those who have attempted to give system- atic rules of inflection, (and the remark applies to other elements as well as to pitch,) have, in my humble view of the subject, involved themselves and their readers in confusion. I have not examined any of these rules with- out perceiving numerous exceptions to them, not stated by their authors : and the sense of the examples cited to exhibit particular combinations of the elements, may ge- nerally be expressed by other modes of the voice besides those insisted upon under the rules. All that can be done in the art of Elocution is, in my opinion, to insist on an exact analysis of written language and to set forth the ELEMENTS of the voice, by a few obvious examples. In other cases than those exemplified the student must be left to use them for himself as circumstances may re- quire. This I am persuaded (from observation and ex- ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 169 perience as a teacher) is all that is necessary for the in- telligent; and the dull would be more troubled by multi- farious rules and exceptions, than by the difficulties which they seek to avert. Let the elements of an art be fairly unfolded, and a few conspicuous instances of their prac- tical application be afforded, and moderate ingenuity will effect the rest ; the right use of elements in other instan- ces is only a proper exercise of individual ability, and comes by a little practice. I am persuaded that he who attempts to push the science farther than this to give (for instance) a detailed account of the possible applica- tions of inflection will involve himself in a labyrinth through the windings of which Ariadne's thread, if he had it, would not suffice to conduct him. 15 RECITATION FOURTEENTH. IMPROVEMENT OF THE VOICE. DR. RUSH has described a kind of voice which, from its preeminent qualities, he denominates the OROTUND. In its highest condition, it is deep, full, strong, smooth, sonorous, and has a highly resonant or ringing character, like the sound of musical instruments. The person possessing it appears to labor under a slight hoarseness. This voice is highly agreeable to the ear, and is more mu- sical than the common voice. It is possessed by actors of eminence and is peculiarly adapted to set forth the beauties of epic and tragic composition. It is heard in its greatest perfection on the vowel sounds. I believe the quality of the voice is greatly dependent on management and cultivation. Experiments have con- vinced me that more depends upon the former, than on natural peculiarity. Indeed I am disposed to think that by attention to certain methods of forming sounds in the mouth, which I shall presently explain, voices may be rendered very much alike in their quality ; and that by forcible efforts properly and perseveringly made, in com- bination with such methods, most voices may be render- ed strong. Now quality and strength are the two cir- cumstances in which voices differ most from each other. The parts of the mouth, posterior to the palate, bound- ed below by the root of the tongue, above by the com- mencement of the palate, behind by the most posterior of the throat, and on the sides by the angles of the jaw, are IMPROVEMENT OF THE VOICE. 171 the seat of the deep voice I have described. If the tongue is retracted and depressed, and the mouth is open- ed, in such a manner as to favor the enlargement of the cavity described as much as possible, and any of the vowel sounds are then uttered with force and abruptness, and without calling other parts of the mouth into vibra- tion, in their passage through it, the orotund voice will be immediately exhibited, in a very high degree, and un- mixed in its quality. By practice in exploding the vowel elements, in the manner formerly described, it may be made to acquire increasing clearness and strength ; and may be varied in pitch like the common voice. But orotund voices are often husky and indistinct : that is to say, there is a want of brilliancy in some of the sounds, and consequently of distinct audibility in the elements. Under these circum- stances, many of the words spoken on the stage and else- where, under this modification of voice, are lost to the ear. More than this ; experiments will show that if the vibrations are confined to the parts described, and the anterior parts of the mouth, (the roof especial- ly,) are made a mere passage for the orotund, force and sonorous clearness are very apt to be deficient. The voice will be deep, grave and dignified, but often, in- audible. There will be more or less of aspiration and huskiness. But, if in the condition of organs set forth above, the vowel elements are uttered, as before described, and are made, in the way to the external air, to vibrate against the centre of the bony arch of the palate, stretching, an extensive and reverberating vaulted cavity immediately over the passage of sound, the voice will at once be heard clear, full, and sonorous. The properties of clearness and musical resonance will be in proportion to the force 172 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. of vibration made against the palatial part of the mouth. The resisting part of the palate is, I believe, the peculiar seat of the musical properties of the voice, by which I mean that clear resonance which is heard on well made musical instruments. Forcible compression of the air against the superior and hard parts of the mouth,asif it were to be driven through the centre of the head in its passage, increases the resonance, and therefore the approximation of the jaws, and tension of the tongue and cheeks, by in- creasing that compression, contribute to the result. For practice in the pure orotund, unmixed with the palatial, the directions may be condensed thus. Let each of the vowel elements be expelled from the most posterior part of the throat with as much opening force and abruptness as possible, and the long ones with ex- tended quantity, with the condition of the organs first described, and let the effort be so made as to exhaust as much as posssible the air 'contained in the chest upon each element. Endeavor to make the sounds as grave and hollow as possible. This method of sounding the elements will be apt to produce giddiness and hoarseness at first, and must therefore be prosecuted with care. By practice these inconveniences will cease, and as soon as they do, the elements should be daily sounded for some time in the manner described. Next let the elements be made as clear and sonorous as possible, by sounding them from the back part of the throat with the condition of parts first described, but ringing them in their passage against the palate as subse- quently pointed out. A peculiar nasal twang can be communicated to the elements by ringing them in the posterior nostrils; and IMPROVEMENT OF THE VOICE. 173 they can be snuffled in the anterior by directing the vi- brations to the lower parts and edges of the anterior nos- trils. The more all kind of nasality however, is avoided, the more clear, sonorous, and satisfactory to the ear the voice will become. When the elements can be sounded, subject to the di- rections above given, let the attempt be made to sound words in this voice. As soon as single words can be uttered, of a pure orotund character, let attempts be made to sound sentences, and by degrees this voice will be heard upon successive syllables. At first, it will be mo- notonous, but practice will enable the student to vary his pitch with the orotund, as easily as with the natural voice. Now, though we do not recommend attempts to use this voice in speaking or reading, until long practice has pla- ced it at entire command, yet we can assure the student, that the elementary exercises here enjoined, will improve his natural voice. Their direct tendency is to impart depth, tone, strength, fulness, and smoothness. We ought here to insert a restricting clause, and say that this voice is not the voice employed in common and familiar subjects. It is more especially, the appropriate symbol of the dignified parts of epic and tragic poetry, and the more solemn por- tions of the scriptures. But a person cannot have an impressive delivery in public speaking, without the depth, force, and clearness of tone, which the practice necessary to attain the orotund, is the most effective method of ac- quiring. Some persons have a natural orotund. Those who have not, may certainly acquire it, except in some rare instances. 15* 174 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Loud vociferation. Frequent exercise of the voice, in declaiming aloud, with the utmost degree ofjorce, of which it is susceptible. is another sure mean of improving it. Persons in gene- ral, have no adequate notion of the degree to which the voice may be improved, by the daily habit of loud vocife- ration. As soon as this strong action of the voice can be employed without hoarseness, it ought to be maintain- ed for a considerable length of time, at once, (say half an hour,) and if the exercise is united with a perfect obser- vation of measure, it will be beneficial, rather than injuri- ous to health, and especially if prosecuted in the open air. There is a grave fulness of quality in all voices thus habitually exercised, which is at once grateful to the ear, and adequate to the purposes of public speaking. No person should attempt to address large public assemblies, whose voice has not been submitted to the gymnastic training here recommended, for some time. I have known a voice got up in a fortnight, by this practice, from comparative feebleness, into a well marked strength and fulness. Explosion, both of the vowels and consonants, as de- scribed, under the head of articulation, with the utmost degree of rending force and abruptness, should accompa- ny the above mentioned exercises. A .... Compass of the voice as to pitch. Let the following sentence be begun with great loud- ness, in a very low pitch, and let the voice gradually rise, till it attains to its highest note, then let it descend again gradually, to the point at which it set out, terminate with its lowest note, maintaining great force throughout. IMPROVEMENT OF THE VOICE. 175 Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches, though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodged, and trees blown down ; Though castles topple on their warden's heads, And nature's germins tumble altogether, Even till destruction sicken ? Answer me. By this practice, a command over the scale will be obtained. Let sentences be selected requiring a low pitch. Solemn sentences are of this description. These are to be read with sustained force, in a very low pitch, with a view of strengthening the voice upon a low note. A high note is, in itself, more audible than a low one ; hence the voice is naturally inclined to rise as it increases in force ; on this account, it must be kept down while its volume is increased in these exercises. The following sentence will serve the purpose we have in view. " And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people, saying with a loud voice, Fear God, and give glory to him; for the hour of his judg- ment is come : and worship him that made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of water." Rev. c. 14, v. 6, 7. Other sentences should be read as loudly as possible, at the pitch of a person's common conversation ; and others again, at a much higher pitch ; and the reading at these respective points of compass, should be steadily continued for a considerable time, as an exercise. This 176 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. exercise will produce fulness and clearness of note, throughout the voice's compass. Rapidity in reading. It will be found that the practice of reading with great rapidity and loudness, will increase the strength of the voice. It will enable a person to sound the elements with great distinctness, and to vary them with force and precision. We ought to observe, however, that the ra- pidity of the utterance should never be so great, as to prevent the exact sounding of every element, usually heard in the words. Rapid reading is also an excellent preparative for the proper management of parentheses, and parts of a passionate character, requiring a quick pronunciation. But it is of especial use in giving uner- ring precision, force, and distinctness, to the organs of speech in ordinary utterance, which are points of the ut- most importance to a public speaker. Let these exercises be steadily pursued, say for a single hour a day, for a few weeks only, and there are very few persons who will have to complain of want of force, loudness, compass, or good quality of voice, or of a feeble and confused enunciation. We conclude, by observing, that the practice here en- joined, must be followed by all who entertain any rea- sonable hope of speaking with power in public, to large assemblies. The choice lies between previous industry of preparation, or the anguish of disappointment when the trial comes. RECITATION FIFTEENTH. OF THE APPLICATION OF THE VOCAL ELE- MENTS, IN EXPRESSING EMOTION. Loudness. THIS is appropriate to sentiments of great energy and earnestness, astonishment, exultation, rage, anger, joy, and others. Feebleness is appropriate to humility, sorrow, peni- tence, shame, apathy, and other sentiments allied to de- pression of mind. The intermediate degrees of force, belong to didactic subjects, from which passion is for the most part, exclu- ded to simple reading, to philosophical, critical, and pro- fessional lectures, etc. Increased rate of voice. A moderately quick rate of voice, is appropriate to all cheerful subjects, and such as approach the character of ordinary conversation. A quicker time is required in pa- rentheses, and in sections of discourse, which interrupt the main current of thought ; also in the emotions of anger, joy, mirth, and all the more animating passions. Slowness of voice, or slow time, on the contrary, is appropriate to all grave, solemn, dignified, and pathetic subjects. 178 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Quality of voice. Familiar subjects are best expressed by the voice of common conversation, while serious, grand, and solemn ones, require the orotund fulness. In conversation, the voice of most persons is comparatively meagre ; it wants sonorous fulness, and seems to issue from the lips. The impression I receive from it, in some instances in which it seems particularly determined to the teeth and lips, might be expressed by the term lip bound ; and if the condition of the lips be inspected in persons whose voice is marked by the peculiarity t would now r designate, they will be found to be more than usually compressed towards the teeth during speech. The voice, in order to sound full, should have free course. To borrow a home- ly phrase, the gangway should be kept perfectly clear. Its sonorous character should not be changed by determining its action to the teeth and lips, by partially closing the former, and compressing the latter : or by in- terfering with its exit, by an improper use of the tongue. When the elements are once formed, the mouth should be freely opened for their explosion. A voice proceed- ing from the throat, rung upon the roof of the mouth, and haying free exit through the teeth, lips, and nose, and little modified by their action, will be most full, sonorous, and dignified. A nasal twang should be especially avoided. Persons frequently have this, who speak in spectacles, from their confining the current of air through the nose. The semitone. The semitone ought to be exclusively appropriated to plaintive subjects, and only to such as are very conside- EMOTION. 179 rably so. It cannot often be introduced into narrative reading. Pathetic subjects, if not highly plaintive, when read with a grave tone, and with long drawn time, will be sufficiently expressive without the semitone. The pa- thetic character of the language itself, being enough to produce the desired impression. The semitone, howe- ver, is necessary to express grief, and vexation. It is the natural language of lamentation, sorrow, complaint, disappointment, and pity, in their highest degrees. It is appropriate to the penitential parts of supplication ; but only to these not to prayer in the form of requests, etc. The semitone is too much in use, in the pulpit, where it is often combined with a drawl, and a mixture of song ; which, certainly, together, constitute a mode of utte- rance, which can only please those who have their own peculiar associations, to reconcile them to such offence against the laws of agreeable speech. Many persons perform all their religious services, as if under the con- stant pressure of severe bodily pain. The simple melody of speech, is appropriate to all those portions of discourse, where emotion, interrogation, and emphasis, do not intervene, and should never be broken, except for the purpose of expressing these. The rising slides of the voice, differ in intensity, from the simple suspension of the voice at a comma, up to the sneering octave, in scornful interrogation. The slides, and radical changes, appropriate to interrogation, empha- sis, and emotion, are those of a third, a fifth, and an octave. The more intense the slide, the more earnest is the question, and the greater the degree of emotion expressed by it. Persons are less likely to fail in the right expression of interrogation, than in many other points of speech. The 180 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. expression of interrogative sentences, is effected by con- crete and discrete rises of a third, a fifth, and an octave. Words of long quantity, in such sentences, become in- terrogative by a concrete rise, and words that do not admit of extended quantity, acquire the interrogative intonation, by running along the line of the vanishing points of the long concretes, with the simple rise of a second. In instances of very intense and earnest ques- tioning, the short syllables not only begin an octave higher than the long concretes, as just stated, but rise concretely r , a third, a fifth, or an octave, in addition. Such combination of radical and concrete rise, is con- fined, however, to words and sentences of earnest and passionate interrogation. The greater the number of words are on which the interrogative intervals fall, the more intensely earnest the sentence becomes. Vanish- ing stress, renders interrogation more passionate and em- phatic. We deem this sufficient on the subject, as the object of this work is exclusively practical. Persons who wish to see the principles of interrogatory sentences more ful- ly discussed, will do well to consult Dr. Rush's " Philo- sophy of the voice," on that subject. Indeed, on that and all others, connected with the art of speech, the most valuable information will be derived from its peru- sal : nor is it in the slightest degree intended, by the author of this grammar, to offer it as a substitute for that profound, original, and ingenious treatise. The rising radical movements of the voice, are em- ployed in various degrees of intensity, to mark emphasis, condition, and admiration, and, (as has been already ob- served) interrogation. DRIFT. 18*1 The downward movements of the voice, in the vari- ous degrees of intensity marked by the descent of a third, a fifth, and an octave, express strong exclusive empha- sis, surprise, astonishment, wonder, command, reprehen- sion, denunciation, positiveness of conviction and deter- mination, indignation, resolve, confidence, satisfaction, defiance, etc. We refer to examples under emphasis. Protracted quantity. Long drawn time, as has been already said, naturally assumes the form of the wave of the second. It is ap- propriate to subjects of a solemn and grand character, and has been fully treated under its appropriate head. Force. The use of force, under its various forms, has been already amply specified. So have that of the tremor of the voice, aspiration, and the guttural emphasis. DRIFT OF VOICE. Sometimes the use of the same elements of the voice prevails throughout the whole, or certain por- tions of a discourse, giving a peculiar character or colo- ring to expression, independent of emphasis, or solitary words. Dr. Rush is the first person who has drawn at- tention to this department of elocution. See sect. 45, of his Philosophy of the Human Voice. The diatonic drift, is the most common, and of most extensive application. It consists, principally, of a series of rising tones, with an occasional fall of a second. We have already stated under what circumstances it is applicable. It may be united with more or less of stress 16 182 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. and quantity, and is subject to all possible varieties of quality of voice. All passionless subjects take on this drift, with occasional emphasis to mark the sense. Drift of the wave of the second. This drift is united necessarily, with slow time, can only be maintained on long quantities, and is limited to dignified, solemn, deliberate subjects. Drift of the semitone. This, when united with long quantity, makes a drift of the wave of the semitone. It is adapted to all highly penitential, tender, and plaintive subjects. CONSPICUOUS EXAMPLE. Yet, O! Lord God, most ho-\y. O! Lord, most mighty. O / Ao-ly and most merciful Sav-ior, deliver us not into the bitter pains of e-ter-nal death. The whole is seraitonic ; the words in italics take the wave. Drift of the downward third, and fifth. This is often united with vanishing, with compound, with median, and sometimes with radical stress. This union of elements will express positiveness, conviction, indignation, surprise, denunciation, reprehension, re- proach, authority, command. EXAMPLES. Positiveness. He is a prophet. John, ix. 5. I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world. DRIFT. 183 In these two examples, some of the emphatic words have an elevation of note, but the downward concrete is conspicuous, and is combined with stress. Denunciation. Woe unto thee, Cho-ra-zin; Woe unto thee Beth- " For the na-tion and king-dom that will not serve thee, shall perish ; yea, those nations shall be wf-terly wasted. Authority command. He that be-Ziev-eth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whoso-ev-er liveth and believeth in me, shall nev-er die. Uz-z\e\, half these draw off, and coast the south With strict-est watch ; these oth-er wheel the north ; Our circuit meets full west. There is downward concrete heard in the above in- stances, and with marked stress. So in the following. Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring. A-bide in me, and J in you. Surprise, with conviction. And Thomas answered and said unto him, my Lord and my Go d. Reprehension. Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed To thy transgression, and dis-turbed the charge Of oth-ers, who approve not to transgress By thy ex-am-ple, but have power and right To ques-tion thy bold entrance on this place ; 'Em-ployed, it seems, to violate sleep, and those Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss. 184 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. The prevalent, and most impressive elements, in the above cited example, are the downward concrete, with vanishing stress. The downward concrete, with frequent elevation of note, strong radical stress, and a quick movement, pre- vail in the following. Then, when I am thy captive, talk of chains, Proud limitary cherub ! but ere then, Far heavier load thyself expect to feel, From my prevailing arm, though heaven's king Ride on thy wings. Drift of the upward third, fifth, and octave. Am I a dog, that thou comest against me with staves ? Must / budge? Must / crouch under your tes-ty hum-art Am /my broth-ei's &eep-er? Drift of quantity, and median stress. These go together, and are applicable to the dignified, and the solemn. Hail, ho ly light, offspring of heaven, first born ; Or of the e-ter-nal, co-eternal beam, May I express thee uriblamed? Since God is light, And never, but in unapproached light, Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, Bright effluence of bright essence, in-create. " We praise thee, O God. We acknowledge thee to be the Lord. " To thee all angels cry aloud ; the Heavens, and all the powers therein. " To thee cherubim and seraphim continually do cry, " Ho-ly, JHb-ly, Ho-\yLord God of Sabaoth." " / Lord save thy people and bless thine heritage," DRIFT. 185 The wave of the second, with median stress and a fine terminating vanish with the drift of the monotone, will give to the above cited examples the utmost degree of solemnity and supplicating earnestness. These constit- uents are the true elements of the grand, the solemn, the dignified and the reverential ; which are not expressed by mouthing and inflating syllables, but by long quantity, median swell, and the fine vanishing movement. The words subject to our remarks are italicised. Drift of radical stress. All lively subjects take this drift ; the animating and the angry passions under their varied modifications are marked by it ; a quick time goes with it. EXAMPLE. And he (amid his frolic play,) As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thous-a.nd od-ors from his dewy wings. The tremor may play upon most of the syllables of the last line. The drift of the tremor, seldom lasts beyond a few words. Sometimes, however, united with the semitone, it extends through sentences. The drift of the monotone, prevails in solemn and plaintive subjects. The drift of the alternate phrase is appropriate to ani- mation of description and argument ; but should not be applied to such subjects as are enumerated under the heads of quantity and median stress. 16* RECITATION SIXTEENTH. FAULTS OF DELIVERY. Defects of the voice. Few voices are fully competent to all that is required of a public speaker in addressing large audiences. When the space to be filled is extensive, where the difficulty is increased by the structure of buildings ill adapted to public speaking, powerful and well exercised voices will not be more than sufficient to render a speaker audible and im- pressive. The modes of improving the voice have been fully de- tailed. It remains to specify the most common defects of quality. The voice is sometimes feeble, thin, harsh, nasal, mincing, too shrill, or from some unknown cause is ill adapted to a clear and distinct utterance of the ele- ments. In all such cases, time and labor will be requi- red for its improvement. A voice may be created. None of our powers are more improveable than those of the voice. To be agreeable it should be full, sonorous, smooth and strong. Defects of the slide in the utterance of syllables. The defect is sometimes in the opening of syllables from the want of a well marked radical stress. This may be always removed by exercising the voice perseve- ringly in exploding the elements, and in forcible abrupt declamation. Oftener, however, it consists in the want FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 187 of the lessening volume, during the progress of the syl- labic movement and of the terminating vanish. Where the vanishing property of the slide is not marked, there is generally a deficient quantity ; and (the force being equal through the whole syllable) speech sounds rough and harsh. Its smoothness depends to a considerable degree on the lessening volume and vanish. These are distinctly marked in the discourse of all cultivated speakers. Want of quantity. Some persons cannot lengthen their syllables and con- sequently cannot be deliberate. Their utterance is there- fore always deficient in serious dignity and impressiveness. Such persons cannot use the emphasis of time, and ge- nerally employ instead of it, the abrupt forms of stress upon emphatic words. Their discourse, therefore wants smoothness and is monotonous from the frequent recur- rence of short percussive impulses. Some give quantity improperly to their consonant sounds, and in that way, elongate syllables which will not bear extension without a change of their sanctioned pro- nunciation. Others give a marked quantity to words without assignable cause. Long quantity, it should be recollected makes a sylla- ble impressive, as compared with others, and should not therefore, be applied without a manifest reason. Some in elongating their words, drawl them, or degenerate into song. This defect is popularly expressed by calling it a " disagreeable tone." It is most prevalent in the pulpit. 188 GRAMMAR OP ELOCUTION. Defects of pitch. Some persons always read with too low a pitch. This defect is often united with great feebleness, and often with an unvaried monotony. Persons who read in this manner, cannot conveniently increase their force, without raising the pitch of their voice. " Raise your voice," generally means, be more forcible. It is a direction of- ten given by the teacher, when the reader is becoming inaudible. "Raise the pitch, and increase the force of your voice," would be a more proper one. The fault now described, is very prevalent in the reading classes of ladies' schools. Some public speakers, as we have before observed, adopt too high a pitch. I know a speaker, who, soon after his commencement, runs up to the highest note of his voice, and maintains this high pitch, throughout his discourse, producing of course a constant monotony. He is withall, very loud, and never makes a cadence. Another, whom I have occasionally heard, commen- ces his sentences with a high and loud note, and, (run- ning down through the octave,) concludes them with a low and feeble one, so as to be scarcely audible. This latter trick of the voice, catches attention at first, but it never pleases the ear long. It is sometimes the result of habit, but oftener marks the charlatan in oratory. Defects as to transition. Many persons give no notice to the ear, of the changes of the subject, by change of tone. Transition has been fully treated in a former part of this grammar. The improper use of the semitone. The circumstances which ought to regulate the use of FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 189 this element, have been fully set forth. It is a disagree- able and unmanly whine, except when called for by the strong expression of mournful feeling. When employed to depict the sorrows of the heart in the penitential parts of prayer, or to express, in appeals from the pulpit, the language of genuine pity for perishing man, it is, some- times, especially when happily united with the tremor, of overwhelming effect. At others, it is the result of mere depression of the animal spirits ; a depression, we admit, often felt by those who minister at the altar of God, from causes entitled to the highest respect : the semitone, however, is misplaced, except when employed to en- hance the expression of sorrowful language; and when otherwise introduced, it cannot fail to communicate some of the painful feeling of the speaker, to the sensitive part of his audience. Faults in the simple melody. The most common is monotony, arising from an un- varied radical pitch. The next in frequency, is the jin- gle, arising from the close recurrence of the same com- binations of melody. This has been treated of, page 84. The formal returns are sometimes marked by a conspicuous rise of the voice, and sometimes by an un- equal wave. This species of melody is common in the British Parliament, and among the practised speakers of England generally. Want of cadence. Some speakers never bring their voices to a full close ; not even at the end of a discourse. The repose of the cadence at the termination of any conspicuous train of sentiment, is in the highest degree, grateful to the ear* 190 GRAMMAR OP ELOCUTION. I know of no effect of the voice which is more so. The various forms shown in the diagrams, will furnish ample means for marking the termination of sense and senti- ments, by appropriate closes. Many persons end their sentences so feebly, as to be scarcely heard. Care should be taken, (and care in this respect is much requi- red,) that, in lowering the voice in pitch, to form the ca- dence, its FORCE is kept up sufficiently, to render the close of the sentence, perfectly audible. The fault in question, as respects the sense of a sentence, is a very serious one, and the means of prevention are obvious. Let care be taken so to regulate the general pitch, as not to fall too low in effecting the closes, and then there will be no dif- ficulty in making them sufficiently loud and forcible. Improper use of intense slides, and the under intervals of radical pitch. Some persons have a recurrent third, or fifth, in their delivery. These are most apt to return at emphatic words and pauses, are often united with some increase of force, and are heard so often as to constitute a mono- tony. They are very apt to occur at the end of the lines in rhyme. Frequently, the rise in question, is an une- qual wave, falling a tone, and rising a third, or fifth. This latter is, like the simple rise, a very marked note, deviating so much from the rest of the melody, as scarce- ly to be mistaken. There is a sort of submissive apolo- gy, or sentiment of deference and courtesy, intimated by the circumflex we have described, which subtracts from the manly and authoritative character of speech : besides that, as a mere habit of the voice, it has no assignable meaning. It therefore constitutes a marked deformity FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 191 of utterance ; for all those elements of speech, which, when properly used, add importance to words, are, when improperly introduced, absolute blemishes. The simple melody, is alone appropriate, unless inter- rogation, emphasis, or emotion, authorise a departure from it. Persons prone to the circumflex, can never read Milton, or Shakspeare, well. I have known this single fault, (which the light of analysis easily detects, and a little labor disposes of,) mar an actor's fortunes. A fine voice has not been sufficient to redeem him. If men will learn the truth in such cases, it can easily be told. In all fine arts, consequently in that of acting, A very few favorites of nature, are prompted to excel- lence by strong and irreversible instinct : but there are many who can be taught to do a thing in the best man- ner, who would never find it out for themselves. These require the aids of science, and can never reach excel- lence without them. Often, however, from a want of philosophical comprehension, and from overweening self- conceit, these personages are the least teachable. Hu- mility is the child of wisdom ; and it is the modest, and the humble, only, who repair, with unfeigned reverence, to the fountains of philosophy, and in her "golden urns draw light."* I conclude my remarks on the employment of this circumflex note in speech, by observing, that it is incom- patible with a sustained impression of dignity. * Fontes philosophise e quibus ilia manabant. Cicero Tuse Quest. 192 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Defects as respects the downward slide and downward radical pitch. Few persons have a command over the more intense downward slides. They express exclusive emphasis, sur- prise and positiveness, as has been observed, and on that ac- count they are very important. They maybe placed at our command by elementary exercise. The use of the in- tenser forms of the downward slide are very impressive ; but require from their difficulty particular cultivation. The voice is prone to rise, though it can by no means be always said of it, that in its "proper motion it ascends." The downward radical pitch should be diligently practi- ced, as well as the slides, upon the elements, in falls of a third, fifth, and octave. Defects in the management of emphasis. We have nothing to remark in addition to what has been already said on the misapplication of emphasis, from a misapprehension of sense. The remedy for this is more close and careful analysis. Some persons produce monotony by always emphasising their words in one way. The most common is that of the rise of a third, or of a fifth, or of an unequal wave. The frequent use of quantity, of mere percussion without elevation of pitch, changes of the quality of the voice, and the antagonist application of the rising and falling slide, and of alternate rises and falls in radical pitch, upon recurrent words, will give all necessary variety both for sense and beauty of utterance. Monotony at the pausal sections. This defect as respects the sense and the ear has been fully treated. FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 193 Defects of enunciation. This subject has been also amply discussed. Violation of measure. Measure as a fundamental point in delivery occupies a large space in this grammar. Defects as to force. This arises principally, from the want of radical stress. An excess of force constitutes ranting. The improper use of the vanishing stress, is not a very unfrequent fault in delivery. The circumstances which ought to limit its use, have been fully explained else- where. The pronunciation of the Irish, will ex- hibit the fault of an unnecessary vanishing stress, in the highest degree. The general current of discourse is sometimes too feebly marked by the combined and an- tagonist effects of force and quantity. Mouthing. This is a very common fault among young persons, and deserves their serious attention and efforts, to cor- rect it. Its causes have been already explained, page 104. 17 RECITATION EIGHTEENTH. PREVALENT CIRCUMSTANCES IN ELEGAJVT SPEECH. ELEGANT speech is marked by a proper distribution of stress and time. It employs exclusively, the simple melody for plain thought, grafting upon it other upward and downward movements, for purposes of interrogation, emphasis, and emotion. The slides are distinguished by a clear and full opening, and those susceptible of quan- tity, by a distinct vanish, at their termination. In digni- fied subjects, the utterance assumes, and maintains, upon words of long quantity, the equal wave of the second, joining with it median stress, for purposes of emphasis. In ordinary discourse, the temporal and percussive em- phasis, are blended in due variety, with the alternation of the higher rising and falling movements. The semi- tone is restricted to the expression of the plaintive feel- ings, and tremor is employed on proper occasions, to mark grief and exultation. The intermixture of high intervals in the current melody is avoided, unless for a reason assignable upon an analysis of the sense. CIRCUMSTANCES TO BE BORNE IN MIND, IN CRITICISING A PUBLIC SPEAKER. 1 . Is his voice full, strong, and agreeable ? PUBLIC SPEAKING. 195 2. Is his enunciation exact and audible, without af- fected preciseness ; and are his syllables pronounced according to sound usage ? 3. Is his simple melody free from monotony ? 4. Is he without what is usually called a tone, consisting (according to a more technical phraseology,) in a recur- rent melody ? 5. Is there the monotony of a high note, or circum- flex, in his speaking upon emphatic words, or in the ge- neral current of his discourse ? 6. Are his emphases so varied by time, percussion, and a properly alternated rise and fall in pitch, as to prevent monotony from a perceptible recurrence of the same kinds ? 7. Do his emphases of pitch, consist of a direct rise and fall, and not of the puling unequal circumflex ? 8. Does he employ radical stress with effect ? 9. Is his speech marked by an agreeable use of quan- tity free from drawl, or any mixture of song ? 10. Are his consonant elements free from improper quantity ? 11. Has he full command over the downward slides of the voice, and over the downward radical pitch, for expressing the positive emotions, and those of surprise, and for marking exclusive emphasis ? 12. Does he avoid the monotony, of the vanishing stress ? 13. Does he employ the cadence in proper places ? 14. Does he mark his parentheses, paragraphs, and changes of subjects by transitions of pitch, time, force, and quality of voice ? 196 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 15. Are the vocal powers so employed, as to deline- ate the sense in a vivid manner ? 16. Is the semitone at his command, for purposes of pathos ? 17. Can he employ the tremor with effect, to heighten the language of sorrow and exultation ? The beauties of delivery, above enumerated, are all of easy attainment, if sought for upon a well devised and persevering plan of elementary instruction. DIRECTIONS TO THE EXERCISES. EVERY bar, as in music, is to occupy the same time. This time is to be consumed in the pronunciation of the syllables contained in the bars, or the syllables and pau- ses, or the pauses alone, where the whole bar is devoted to rest. The mark A shows that a syllable is heavy or accented ; /. that it is light or unaccented. The mark 7 indicates that a rest, or pause, is to be made. A long syllable can be extended through the whole time of a bar, and may be made heavy or accented in its opening, and light at its termination ; a short one cannot fill a bar. When the mark 7 is omitted after a short heavy syllable, standing alone in a bar, a pause is to be made as if it were present. By the use of the exercises, it will soon be perceived that most persons are deficient in rythm. By an exact observation of it, two consequences will follow ; reading will cease to be laborious, and the sense will be rendered perfectly clear, as far as it is dependent on the capital point of the distribution of time, or measure. Lastly, the progress of the voice is to be distinct from the accented to the unaccented syllable, or from heavy to light, and not from light to heavy. 17* EXERCISES. ODE, ON THE DEATH OF THOMSON. Collins. The scene of the following stanzas, is supposed to be on the Thames, near Richmond. 7 In A .V yonder A /. grave A /. 7a 1 I A .'. 7 Where 1 slowly 1 winds the A /. A /. A Druid A /. lies, 7 A .'. stealing wave ! 7 77 A/. 7 The year's best A .'. A .'. A/. 7 To deck 7 its A /. A .'. A /. sweets shall A duteous A /. .'. rise, 7 A /. sylvan grave ! 77 A.-. 77 7ln A /. yon AV bed of 7 His A /. 7 That A /. deep 7 A .'. | A harp I 7 shall A /. A /. whispering airy A .'. now be reeds 7 laid, 7 he 7 A /. 7 whose A /. 7 May A /. love through A heart in A /. 1 life A /. sorrow | A /. 7 the I A .'. bleeds, 7 A soothing I A .*. shade. A /. 77 A .'. 77 A/. 7 The A /. maids and A youths A /. 7shaU linger I here, 7 A And while its I sounds at A /. /. I A 7 Shall I sadly I seem A /. A .-. A /. ; at distance swell, 7 .*. A /. A .*. 7 in pity's ear 7 1 A .'. A /. A/. EXERCISES. 7 To A /. hear A .'. knell. A /. 77 A/. the 77 A/. woodland A .'. 7 Re- membrance I oft 7 A /. A /. I A /. 7 When I Thames in A /. I A drest; | 7 7 A /. oft 7 7 shall haunt the shore, 7 summer A /. A wreaths is A 7 And A .'. 7 To I bid his A .-. A /. A / 7 sus- A /. gentle A /. pend the A I spirit I A .'. dashing A .'. oar, 7 I A /. 1 7 7 1 rest. 77 7 7 ^ /. A/. A/. A/. 7 And I oft as I ease and I health I 7 re- I tire 7 A /. I 7 To A .'. 7 The A - /. A /. I A breezy A /. lawn, A .'. friend shall A A /. 7 or A /. view I A/. I A /. forest A /. yon I A .'. A /. I deep, 7 I A /. I whitening spire, 7 A /. I 7 And I mid the A /. I A .*. weep. 7 7 I A /. A .'. varied A /. 7 7 A/. landscape A /. 7 7 A/. 7 But A /. Ah! A .*. 7 Or I A .'. thou, A /. 7 who A /. what will A .'. every A /. .'. own'st that I A /. I dirge a- A /. tears, A /. 7 which 1 love and A /. A /. bed, 7 A /. 77 earthly A .'. vail? I A .*. I A.". pity I shed, 7 A /. A /. 200 GRAMMAR OP ELOCUTION. 7 That AY ."".'' sail! A /. mourn A /. 7 be- A /. Ineath A the gliding, A /. 7 7 7 7 A .'. A .'. Yet A /. lives there A /. one, A /. 7 whose A /. heedless A /. eye 7 A /. 7 Shall A .'. scorn thy A pak A .' ; shrine ! glimmering . A /. ! A .'. .'. near ? 7 A 7 With A /. him, A .'. sweet A 7 Bard A /. 7 may A .*. fancy A /. die 7 A /. 7 And A /. year. A .'. 7 But i thou A /. I A /. tide 7 A .'. 7 7 A .'. 77 A/. 7 A 77 de- sert the A /. blooming A /. 7 7 A /. lorn A .'. stream, A /. 7 whose A /. sullen A /. No sedge-crown'd sisters now 7at- tend A/. A A /. A .'. A /. A Oh waft me 7 from the green hill's side, 7 A.\ A /. I A /. /. A .*. A t t A /. 7 Whose co ldl turf A .V; A /. hides the|buried A .-. IA /. friend ! 1 7 7 77 A/. 7 And A .*. Dun- A /. see, 7 7 the night A .'. fairy A .'. 7 has vallies fade, 7 veil'd the A solemn A .'. view! A /. 77 A/. 77 A/. Yet A/. once a- I gain 7 dear A/. parted I shade, 7 EXERCISES. 201 Meek A /. nature's A .'. child 7 a- A /. A /. gain a- A .'. dieu! A /. 7 The A /. 7 Thy A .'. 7 There genial meads, 7 as- A /. signed to 77 A .'. bless 7 7 7 life 7 A /. hinds 7 With (simple 7 shall A /. 7 and A /. hands mourn thy early doom ! 7 shepherd girls shall A /. 7 thy| rural I tomb. 7 dress 7 A /. 77 A/. 77 Long, A /. 7 Shall A /. long thy stone A melt the A /. 7 and A /. musing A /. pointed A /. Briton's A /. clay 7 A .'. 7 7 eyes Oh! A .'. 7 In vales, A yonder and wild A /. woods, A /. 7 shall he A .-. /. grave 7 your A .'. Druid lies! A.' say, 71 A .%] 7777 A /. A .'. CATHARINA, ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON. Cowper. 1 She came 7 7 she is gone 7 7 we have met 7 A .'. A .'. A .'. /. A /. A /. ,*, A .'. 7 And meet perhaps never a gain; 7 A /. A /. .'. A /. /. A /. 7 The sun of that 7 moment 7 is set, 7 A .'. A .'. A /. A .'. A /. A .'. 7 And seems to have risen in vain. 7 A /. A /. /. A /. /. A ,\ 202 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 7 Catha- rina 7 has fled like a dream, A /. A /. A/. /_. .* A /, /. A /. (So vanishes pleasure 7 a- las) 7 7 7 A.\ A /. .'. A .'. A.\ A /. A *! But has left 7 7 a re- gret7 7 and es- teem, A .'. A V. A. % A .*. A K .*. A /. 7 That will not so suddenly pass. 7 4 /"//;' A A .*. .'. A /. 7 The A /. last evening A /. A /. ramble A .'. 7 we A /. made, 7 A Catha- rina 7 Ma- ria 7 and 1,7 A /. A/. A /. A.'. A A /. 7 Our A /. progress was A .'. often de- A /. .-. lay'd A /. 7 By the A /. */. Nightingale A /. /. warbling nigh. 7 A /. A /. 7 We A /. paus'd under A many a tree, 7 A . 7 And much was she charm'd 7 with a tone 7 A /. A A .'. A /. A .'. /. A /. Less 7 sweet to Ma- ria and me 7 A /. A / A /. A /. Whoso A /. lately A /. 7 had A .'. witness' d 7 he A /. A /. r own. 77 77 A A /. A .' My A/. 7 And A /. 7 As A /. numbers A .'. that A.'. day 7 she had A A /. sung 7 A /. gave them a \ grace so Ji- A only her A .'. /. vine, A musical A /. /. tongue A .'. 7 Could in- A .'. fuse into A /. /. numbers of A .'. /. mine. 7 A 7 7 7 The longer I j heard 7 7les- teem'd 7 A EXERCISES. 203 7 The work of my fancy the A /. more, 7 A .'. 7So A .'. ev'n to my- A /. tuneful a A .'. .'. self never I seem'd 7 A /. . Poet be- I fore. A /. .'. ' A /. A 7 7,7 7 Though the j pleasures of j London ex- ceed 7 7 In number 7 the days of the year 7177 A /. A .'. A /. A /. /. A /.IA /, Catha- I rina (did j nothing im- pede) 7 A /. I A /. .'. A /. /. A 7 Would A 7 For the A .'. .'. 7 On the A /. /. feel herself happier |here. 7 A /. /. I A close woven | arches of A banks A .'. I A limes 7 | 7 of our 7 Are A .'. sweeter A .' 7 to river, I 7 I A her 7 A .*. lA many A /. know, 7 A times 7 A .-. 7 Than I aught that the j city can j show. A/. 7 7 7 7 So it is 7 A /. A /. 7 With a A /. /. Then 7 A /. 7 Tis A .'. 7 when the , mind I 7 is en- ! dued 7 well judging taste from a- I A .-, bove, 7 I A /.I (whether em- ' - A /. Nature a- A .'. .-. bellish'd or rude,) 7 lone 7 7 The a- A .'. .'. chievements of 7 that we art may a- love. 7 A /. muse, 7 A 7 May I even our 1 A wonder ex- cite, 7 204 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 But A .*. groves, 7 1 hills and 1 vallies, 7 dif- fuse 7 A /. 1 A /. 1 A .'. A /. A /. 7 A A /. lasting, A /. 7 a s A .*. t acred b .'. 7de A /. - light. 7 7777 A /. A /. A /. Since then 7 in the rural re- cess 7 A .*. A .* . .*. A /. .*. A .'. Catha- A .'. Irina a- A /. /. lone can re- joice ; 7 A /. /. A May it A /. still be her A /. /. lot to pos- A .'. /. sess 7 A /. 7 The scene of he] * sensible choice ! 7 A .'. A .'. /. A . A 7 To in- habit a r nansion re- mote 7 A /. .'. 7 From the A .'. 7 And by A /. /. A /. /. j clatter ( A /. Philomel' A /. /. A /. /. )f street pa '. A / s annual i A .'..'. A .'. cing 1 steeds, 7 /. ! A /. lote 7 A .'. 7 To measure the life that she leads. 7 1 A /. A ' ' A /. t ' t A .\ | 7 With her A /. book, 7 A /. 7 and her A /. /. voice 7 7 and her 1 A ,'. A /. /. 1 lyre, 7 j A .'. 1 7 To I wing all her I moments at I home ; 7 I A .-. I A /. /. I A /. /. I A /.I 7 And with I scenes I 7that I new I rapture in- I spire,7 A /. /. I A .'. I A /. j A .'. I A /. /. j A /. 7 As | oft as it | suits her to | roam ; 7 | A .'. | A /. .'. I A .-. .'. | A I-. | She will ! have 7 I just the I life 7 | 7 she pre- | fers, 7 A /. j A /. I A /. ! A /. I A /. /. j A /. 7 With I little I 7 to J hope I 7 or to I fear, 7 | A /. A .'. I A /. A /. A /. /. [ A .'. EXERCISES. 205 7 And I ours would be I pleasant as I hers, 7 A /. I A A /. [ A /. /. f A /. Might we view her en- I joying it here.7 I 7 7 I 7 7 A .'. A/. I ADAM AND EVE S MORNING HYMN, Milton. These are thy glorious I works ! I 7 7 I Parent of A /. /. 77 A /. Thus Good ! I A /. I Al-jmighty ! A.".| A .*. wond'rous A then, 7 A .*. 7 7 thine this uni-.versal A.-.l A .'. fair : 7 7thy- self 7 how A /. frame, wonderous Un-j speakable ! I 7 who sitt'st I 7 a-| bove 7 A /.I A .*. .'. I A /. A .'. | A .'.| A /. heavens, A A 7 To I us in- I visible, 7 or A /. I A /. I A /. /. 7 In I these thy lowest works ; 7 these A /. dimly I seen 7. A /. 7 7 A /. Yet 7 Ithese de- 7|th ( A .'. I A /. clare 7 A /. 7 Thy I goodness beyond I thought I 7 and I power di-l A /. I A /. /. /. I A .-. I A .\ I A .'. 1 vine. 1 77 U7 7 A .% I A /. I A .% 18 206 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Speak 7 ye 7 7 ) A > * > A /. A sons of light, A /. A /. best can I tell, 7 I 7 ye Angels ! I 7 for ye be- hold him, A 7 and with songs 7 day without I night, 7 7 And choral'symphonies, 7 7 A /. | A /. | A /. /. A /. Circle his I throne I 7 re- | joicing. I 7 7 A 7 On A /. .-. | A /. | A /. heaven! I 7 7 A /. | A /. Ye in earth, 7 A /. 7to ex- I tol 7 A /. /. A /. join 7 A .'. all ye A /. Him first, 7 him last, 7 A/. A .* A/. A .'. end. 77177 A/. A .'. | A .'. him I midst A/. A /. creatures A /. and without I Fairest of stars ! 7 I 7 7 A /. last in the train of better thou be- 7 If A .'. Sure I pledge of long not to the dawn, A .' morn 7 A .', day, A/. 7 that crown'st the night 7 smiling With thy I bright 7 A /. I A sphere, 7 circlet, 7 7 praise him in thy A /. .'. /. While A /. day a- A rises, A /. that sweet A hour of A prime. A .'. 771771 A .*.|A /. EXERCISES. 207 Thou A /. 7 Ac- A /. Sun ! 7 I 7 7 7 both A /. eye and 7 of A /. soul, 7 this 7 great 7 world knowledge him 7 thy I greater; A/. 7 7 sound A his praise In thy e- ternal A /. . And when A thou course high 7 A /. fall'st. 77 A .-. noon hast both when thou gain'd, 7 climb'st, and when 77 A /. 7 7 A .'. Moon! A /. 7 that A /. fly'st, 7 A /. now A /. meet'st the orient I sun, A.\ /. A/. now A .'. 7 With the fix'd7 A flies!) 7 stars, 7 (fix'd in their orb that 7 And ye 7 A /. move 7 A /, five A .*. other A /. wand'ring A fires! A /. 7 tliat 7 In His A /. dance, A /. mystic A .-. sound 7 A /, praise, | 7 who A /. fA /. light 7 7 7 A /. not without I song ! A .'. /. j A /. 7 7 out of 7 7 darkness call'd 7 7 re- up 7 Air, 7 7 and ye A /. elements ! A/. .-. 7 the A /. eldest I birth 7 A /. A /. 208 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 Of A /. 7 Per- A /. 7 And Nature's A /. petual A .-./. womb, A /. circle A /. that in qua- A 7 7 A /. ternion A /. multiform and A /. /. /. run 7 A /. mix A/. nourish I all things, let your Vary to our A/, /. /. praise. A /. great A 7 7 A/. 7 7 A.*. Ye A/. mists A /. 7 and A /. exha- A .'. A .'. Maker A /. lations A /. ceaseless I change! A .'. I A /. I still 7 I new 7 A /.A /. rise 7 A /. 7 From A /. hill or A .'. 7 Till the A ,'. .% sun A steaming | lake, A /, I A 7 paint your A 7 that A. /. dusky or A /. /. now A .'. A/. fleecy A /. skirts with A gold, 7 A .'. 7 In 1 honor to the A ,'. I A /. /. /. world's A .'. great 7 Author Whether to | deck with A /. /. I A clouds 7 A /. A /. 7 the un- A /. /. rise ; ; A color'd A **. sky, 7 A .*. 7 Or wet the thirsty earth with falling j >howers, 7 A /. A /. A /. A /. A /. A Rising 7 or falling 7 7 still ad- vance 7 his A /. A /. A /. A .*. A .*. A /. A /. praise. 77 7 7 A t \ A /. A /. His Draise, 7 ye winds 7 7 that from four 7 A/. A /. A /. A A . .*. A ,% quarters blow, 7 A ^ A . \ EXERCISES. 209 Breathe | soft or A /. | A /. 7 ye A /. 7 With I every A /. A /. loud ! 7 I 7 and A pines 7 A /, plant, wave your A .-. tops, 7i A /. 7 7 A / wave. A /. Fountains ! A /. Me- 7 7 I A .-. 7 and A /. lodious A /. .'. 7 7 A/. ye that 7 in A /. warble A /. sign of I worship, A /. I A /. 7 as ye A /. /. flow, A/. murmurs, A .'. 7 7 A /. warbling A /. 7 7 A/. tune his A .'. praise. A /. voices singing, A /. Join A /. ! L 7 That A /. Bear on your A /. /. praise. A /. Ye that in A /. /. 7 The A /. all ye living souls. 7 7 up to A .'. wings, A .-. A /. heaven's A /. and in your 7 Ye | birds, 7 gate as- A /. notes 7 A /. A cend, I A /. I his 7 A /. 7 7 A / waters A /. 7 7 A / glide, A /. 7 and A .'. ye that A .'. walk 7 A /, earth, A /. creep ! 7 A Witness if I I be A .'. /. | A /. and silent, A /. stately A /. morn A /. tread A /. 7 or I lowly A /. A .-. 7 or A /. even, A /. 7 To A /. 77 A / hill or A /. valley, A /. fountain or A /. /. fresh 7 A .'. shade, A .'. Made A /. praise A /. vocal by my I song, 1 7 and taught 7 his 71 A 7 7 A/. 7 7 A/. 18* 210 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTIONS Hail A/. 7 To A /. uni- A/. versal A /. Lord! A .'. 7 7 A/. 7 be A /. bounteous A /. /. A.\ give us A /. only good ; 7 A/. A 7 Have A /. 7Dis- A /. gather 'd aught of perse it, A /. dark. A/. 7 7 A V. A 7 as A /. 7 7 A/. now A/. and if the A .\ /. evil A.'. light 7 A / 7 or con- A /. /. 7 dis- A /. night 7 I A .;) ceaPd 7. A pels the A .'. REVELATIONS. CHAPTER V. And they A sang a A /. new A /. art worthy to A /. /. seals thereof: A .'. /. take tlie A /. song, 7 A /. book, A /. 77 A/. for thou wast A /. saying A /. 7 and to A /. /. slain, A /. 7 7 A /. Thou A open the A .'. /. 7 and A .'. hast A re- deemed us to A /. /. % \ God A /. every A .'. nation ; A /. kings and A earth. A /. kindred, 7 and 7 by thy A .'. /. 7 and blood 7 7 7 A/. and hast A /. tongue, A .'. made us A .'. people, A /. unto our A /. /. out of A .'. 7 and A .'. God? A .'. pnests : A .*. 77 A /. and we shall reign on the 7 7 A/. 77 j And I be- A .-. I A /. .\ held, A /. A 7 and I heard A EXERCISES. 211 the voice of A /. many A /. angels round a- bout the A /. throne, A /. 7 and the A .*. .'. beasts, I 7 and the A /. 1 A /. /. elders : 7 7 7 and the A /. /. number of them A /. /. /. 7 was A /. ten 7 A /. thousand A /. times A /. thousand, A /. saying with a A /. /. .'. that was 7 and A /. loud A/. slain 7 A /. thousands of A /. /. voice, . A /. 7 to re- A /. .'. 77 A .*. I thousands ; I A Worthy is the A /. /. /. ten 7 A /. 7 7 A /. Lamb A riches, A /. honor, A .'. 7 and A /. 7 and A /. wisdom, A /. ceive A /. 7 and I A .'. power, A /. strength, A .'. glory, A /. 7 and A /. 7 And A .'. and on the A /. .'. such as are A /. /. heard I A /. 7 and I A /. sitteth A /. 7 for I A /. I every A /. earth, creature A .'. 7 and A /. blessing. A /. which is in A .'. /. under the I earth, 77 A .'. 7 in the sea, A/. 1 7 and I all that are A /. I A .'. /. 7 and A /. 7 and A /. 7 7 A/. heaven, A /. 7 and A /. in them, A I in them, I A A saying, I A /. glory, A /. 7 7 A .'. Blessing, A .'. 7 and I honor, A /. I A /. 7 and I power, A /. I A /. be unto A /. /. him that A upon the I throne, 7 A /. ever . I A 7 and I ever. A /. I A ,\ and unto the I Lamb, 7 A .-./. /. I A /. 77177 A.-. I A.v GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, NINTH CHAPTER OF JOHN. And as | Jesus | passed | by, 7 | 7 he | saw a | man which was | blind from his | birth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And his dis- | ciples | asked him, | saying, | Master, | who did | sin, 7 | 7 this | man | 7 or his | parents, | that he was | born 7 | blind 5 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | answered, | Neither hath this | man | sinned | nor his | parents : | 7 7 | but that the | works of | God | 7 should be | made 7 | ma- nifest in him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | I must | work the | works of | him that | sent me, | while it is | day ; | 7 7 | 7 the | night | cometh | 7 when | no 7 | man | can 7 | work. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 As | long | 7 as | I am in the | world, 7 | I am the | light | 7 of the | world. | 7 7 | 7 7 | When he had | thus 7 | spoken, | 7 he | spat on the | ground, 7 | 7 and | made | clay | 7 of the | spit- tle, | and he a- | nointed the | eyes 7(7 of the | blind | man | 7 with the | clay, 7 | 7 and | said unto him, | Go, 7 | wash in the | pool of | Siloam, | 77| (which is, by in- | terpre-| tation, | Sent.) 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | went his | way, | therefore, | 7 and | washed, | 7 and | came | seeing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | neighbours, | therefore, | 7 and | they which be- | fore had | seen him, | that he was | blind, | 7 7 | said, 7 | Is not | this 7 | he that | sat and | begged ? j 7 7 | 7 7 | Some | said, 7 | This | is | he ; | 7 7 | others | said, 7 | He is | like him : | 7 7 | 7 but | he | said, | 7 I | am | he. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Therefore | said they unto him, | 7 7 | How | were thine | eyes | opened ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | answered and | said, | 7 A | man | 7 that is | called | Jesus, | made | clay, | 7 and a- | EXERCISES. 213 nointed mine | eyes, 7 | 7 and | said unto me, | Go to the | pool of | Siloam, | 7 and | wash : 7 | 7 7 | 7 and I | went and | washed, | 7 and I re- | ceived | sight. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then | said they unto him, | 7 7 | Where | is he? | 7 7 | 7 He | said, 7 | 7 I | know not. | 7 7 | 77| 7 They | brought to the | Pharisees j him that a- | fore time | 7 was | blind. | 7 7 | And it was the | sab- bath | day 7 | 7 when | Jesus | made the | clay, | 7 and | opened his | eyes. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then a- | gain the | Pharisees | also | asked him | how he had re- | ceived his | sight. | 7 7 | 7 He | said unto | them, | 7 He | put 7 | clay 7 | 7 upon mine | eyes, | 7 and I | washed | and do | see. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Therefore said | some of the | Pharisees, | 7 This | man is | not of | God, | 7 be- | cause | 7 he | keepeth not the | sab- bath | day. | 7 7 | Others | said, 7 | How can a | man that is a | sinner, | do such | miracles ? | 7 7 | And there was | 7 a di- | vision a- | mong them. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 They | say unto the | blind | man a- | gain, 7 | 7 7 | What | sayest | thou of him ? | that he hath | opened thine | eyes ? | 7 7 | 7 He | said, 7 | He is a | prophet. | 7 7 | 77| 7 But the | Jews | did not be- | lieve con- | cerning him | 7 that he | had been | blind, | 7 and re- |ceived his | sight, | 7 un- | til they called the | parents of | him that had re- | ceived his | sight. 7 7 | 7 And they | ask- ed them, | saying, | 7 7 | Is | this your | son, | who ye | say | 7 was | born | blind? 7 | 7 7 | how | then 7 | doth he | now 7 | see ? 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 His | parents | answer- ed them | 7 and | said, | 7 7 | 7 We | know that | this is our | son, 7 I and that he was | born | blind : 7 | 7 7 | But 214 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. by | what 7 | means I 7 he | now | seeth, | 7 we | know | not ; 7 | 7 or | who hath | opened his j eyes, | 7 we | know not : | 7 7 | he is of age, 7 | ask 7 | him, 7 | he shall | speak for him- | self. 7 I 7 7 | 7 7 | These j words 7 j spake his | parents, | 7 be- | cause they | feared the | Jews : | 7 7 | 7 for the | Jews had a- | greed al- | ready, | that if | any man | 7 did con-| fessthat he was | Christ, | he should be | put 7 | out of the | synagogue. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Therefore | said his | parents, | he is of | age, 7 | ask 7 | him. 7 7 7 | 7 7 | Then a- | gain 7 | called they the | man that was | blind, | 7 and | said, 7 | Give 7 | God the | praise : 7 we | know that | this 7 | man 7 | 7 is a | sinner. 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | answered and | said, 7 | Whether he be a | sinner or | no, 7 | 7 I | know not ; | 7 7 | one thing I | know, | 7 that where- | as I | was 7 | blind 7 7 7 | now7 | 71 | see. | 77 | 77 | Then 7 | said they to him a- | gain, 7 | What | did he to thee ? | 7 7 How 7 | opened he thine | eyes ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He answered them, | 7 I have | told you al- | ready, | 7 and ye | did not | hear : | 7 7 | wherefore | would ye | hear it a- | gain? | 7 7 | 7 Will | ye | also | be his dis- | ci- ples ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then they re- | viled him, | 7 and said, | Thou art | his dis- | ciple ; | 7 but | we are Moses' dis- | ciples. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 We | know that God 7 | spake unto | Moses : | 7 7 | as for | this 7 | fel- low, | 7 we | know not from | whence he | is. | 7 7 7 7 | 7 The | man | answered and | said unto them, 7 7 | Why, 7 | herein | 7 is a | marvellous | thing, 7 that ye | know not from | whence he | is, 7 | 7 and yet he hath | opened mine | eyes. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Now we know that I God 7 I heareth not I sinners : I 7 7 I but if EXERCISES. 215 any man | be a | worshipper of | God, 7 | 7 and | doeth his | will, 7 | him he | heareth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Since the | world be- | gan 7 | was it not | heard, | 7 that | any man | opened the | eyes of | one that was | bora 7 | blind. 7 | 7 7 ] 7 If | this | man were | not of | God, | 7 he could | do | nothing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 They | answered and | said unto him, | 7 7 | Thou wast | alto- | gether | born in | sins, | 7 and dost | thou | teach 7 | us ? | 7 7 | And they | cast him | out. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | heard that they had | casthim | out; 7 | 7 and 1 when he had | found him, j 7 he | said unto him, | 7 7 | Dost thou be- | lieve on the | Son of | God ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | answered and | said, 7 |Who | is he |Lord ? |7 7 | that 1 1 might be- 1 lieve on him ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | Je- sus i said unto him, | 7 7 | Thou hast both | seen him, | 7 7 ! and it is I he that | talketh with thee. | 7 7 I 7 7 | And he [ said, 7 | Lord, j 7 I be- | lieve. | 7 7 | And he j worshipped him. | 7 7 | 77 | 7 And | Jesus | said, 7 | 7 7 | 7 For (judgment |7 Tam| come into this | world : | 7 7 | 7 that | they which | see| not, | might 7 | see ; 7 | and that | they which | see, 7 | might be made | blind. '| 77 | 7 7| 7 And | some of the j Pharisees j7whichwere | with him | heard these words, | and | said unto him | 7 7 | 7 Are | we | blind | also ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | said unto them, | 7 7 j j If ye were | blind, 7 | 7 7 | ye should have | no 7 | sin : | 7 7 | 7 but | now ye | say, 7 | 7 We | see ; | 7 7 | Therefore | 7 your | sin re- | maineth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 216 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. SPEECH OF THE EARL OF CHATHAM, ON THE SUBJECT OF EMPLOYING INDIANS TO FIGHT AGAINST THE AMER- ICANS. I | cannot, | 7 my | Lords, 7 | 7 I | will not, | join in con- | gratu- 1 lation | on mis- 1 fortune | 7 and dis- grace. | 7 7 | 7 7 | This 7 my | lords, 7 | 7 is a | perilous | 7 and tre- | mendous | moment ; | 7 7 | 7 it is not a | time for | adu- | lation : | 7 7 | 7 the | smoothness of | flattery | can- not | save us | 7 in this | rugged and | awful | crisis. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 It is I now | necessary | 7 to in- | struct the | throne | 7 in the | language of | truth. |7 7 | 7 7 | 7 We | must, 7 | 7 if | possible, | 7 dis- | pel the de- | lusion and | darkness | 7 which en- | velope it ; | and dis- | play, 7 | 7 in its full | danger | 7 and | genuine | colors, | 7 the | ruin 7 which is | brought to our | doors, j 7 7 | 7 7 | Can ministers | still pre- | sume to ex- | pect sup- | port 7 in their in- | fatu- | ation ? | 7 7 | 7 Can | Parliament 7 be |so | dead to its | dignity and | duty, | 7 as to | give its sup- | port 7 | 7 to | measures | thus ob- | truded and | forced up- | on it ? | 7 7 | Measures, ] 7 my | lords, 7 ] which have re- | duced this | late | flourishing | empire | 7 to j scorn and con- | tempt? | 7 7 | But | yesterday, | 7 and | England | might have | stood against the ! world; | 7 7 | now, 7 | none so ] poor | 7 as to | do her | reverence ! | 7 7 | 7 The | people, | (whom we at | first de- | spised as | rebels, | 7 but | whom we | now ac- | knowledge as | enemies,) | T are a- | betted a- | gainst us, | 7 sup- | plied with | every | military | store, | 7 their j interest con- | suited, | 7 and their am- | bas- sadors | enter- | tained | 7 by our in- | veterate | enemy ; EXERCISES. 217 | 7 7 | 7 and | ministers | do not, j 7 and | dare not, j inter- | pose ;7with | dignity | 7 or ef- | feet. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | desperate | state of our | army a- J broad ] 7 is in | part 7 | known. | 7 7 | 7 7 | No man | 7 more | highly es- | teems and | honors the | English | troops | 7 than j I do : | 7 7 | 7 I | know their | virtues | 7 and their | valor; | 7 7 | 7 I | know they can a- | chieve 7 | any thing | but im- | possi- | bilities ; | 7 7 | and I | know | that the | conquest of | English A- | merica | is an im- | possi- | bility. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 You | cannot, | 7 my | Lords, | 7 you | can- | not 7 | conquer A- | merica. | 7 7 | 7 7 | What is your | present | situ- | ation | there ? | 7 7 | 7 We | do not | know the | worst : | 7 7 | but we | know that in | three | campaigns | 7 we have | done | nothing | 7 and | suffered | much. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | You may | swell every ex- ( pense, | 7 ac- | cumulate | every as- | sistance, | 7 and ex- | tend your | traffic | 7 to the | shambles of | every [German J despot; | 77 | your at- | tempts 7 | 7 will | be for- | ever | vain and | impotent; | 7 7 | doubly | so 7 | 7 in- | deed, 7 from this | merce- | nary | aid I 7 on | which you re- ly ; 7 | 7 7 | for it | irritates, | 7 to an in- | curable re- sentment, | 7 the i minds of your | adversaries, | 7 to over- | run them I with the I mercenary ! sons of | rapine and ! plunder, | 7 de- I voting | them and their pos- sessions | 7 to the ra- ! pacity of i hireling ! cruelty. 7 7 |7 7 | But | 7 my ! Lords, | who is the | man, 7 | that in ad- | dition 1 7 to the dis- | graces and | mischiefs of the | war, | 7 has | dared to I authorize | 7 and as- | sociate to our I arms, | 7 the | tomahawk | 7 and I scalping | knife of the | savage ? | 7 7 | 7 to | call into | civilized al- 1 liance, 19 218 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. | 7 the | wild and in- ! human in- I habitants | 7 of the | woods? | 7 7] 7 to | delegate | 7 to the j merciless I Indian, I 7 the de- | fence of dis- | puted | rights, | 7 and to | wage the | horrors of his ] barbarous | war 7 a- | gainst our | brethren ? | 7 7 j 7 7 | 7 My | Lords, | these e- | normities | cry a- | loud | 7 for re- | dress and | punish- ment. [ 7 7 | But my | Lords | 7 this | barbarous | mea- sure | has been de- | fended, | 7 7 [ not | only on the | principles of | policy | 7 and ne- | cessity, | 7 but | also on | those of mo- | rality ; | 7 7 | " for it is | perfectly al- | lowable," | says | Lord j Suffolk, | 7 "to | use | all the ] means | 7 which | God and | Nature | 7 have | put into our | hands." | 7 7 | 7 7 | I am as- | tonished, | 7 I am | shocked, | 7 to I hear such | principles con- I fess- ed ;J 7 7 | 7 to I hear them a- | vowed in | this I house, I or in | this I country. I 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | Lords \ 7 1 1 did not in- | tend to en- | croach so | much 7 | 7 on your at- tention , | 7 7 | but I | cannot re- | press my | indig- | na- tion | 7 7 | 7 I | feel my- | self im- | pelled to | speak. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | Lords | 7 we are | called upon | 7 as | members of this | house, | 7 as | men, 7 | 7 as | Chris- tians, | 7 to pro- | test against | 7 such | horrible bar- barity ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | " That | God and | nature | 7 have put into our | hands!" | 7 7 | What i-| deas of | God and nature, | that | noble | Lord may | enter- | tain, | 7 I know not ; | 7 7 | but I | know that | such de- | testable principles | 7 are | equally ab- | horrent | 7 to re- | ligion 7 and hu- | manity. | 7 7 | 7 7 | What 7 | 7 to at- | tri- bute the | sacred | sanction | 7 of | God and | nature | 7 to the | massacres | 7 of the | Indian | scalping | knife ! | 7 to the | savage,| torturing| 7and | murdering |7 his un- | hap- py | victims ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Such | notions | shock 7 | every EXERCISES. 219 | sentiment of | honor. | 7 7 | 7 7 | These a- | bominable | principles, | 7 and this [more a- | bominable a- | vowal of | them, | 7 de- | mand the | most de- | cisive | indig- | na- tion. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 1 1 call upon | that | right 7 | reverend, 1 7 and | this most | learned | Bench, | 7 to | vindicate |7the re- | ligion of their | God 7 | 7 to sup- | port the | justice of their | country. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 1 1 call upon the | Bishops | 7 to | inter- | pose the un- | sullied | sanctity of their | lawn, | 7 7 | upon the | Judges | 7 to | inter- | pose the | purity of their | ermine, | 7 to | save us from | this pol- | lution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | call upon the honor of your | lordships, | 7 to | reverence the | dignity of your | ances- tors | and to main- | tain your | own. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 1 1 call upon the | spirit | 7 and hu- | manity |7of my | country, | 7 to | vindicate the | national | character. | 7 7 | 7 7 1 1 in- | voke the | Genius of the | British | consti- | tution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | From the | tapestry | 7 that a- | dorns | these | walls, | 7 the im- | mortal | ancestor |7of this |noble| lord |frowns with | indig^ | nation | 7 at the dis- | grace of his | country. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In | vain did | he de- | fend the | liberty, | 7 and es- I tablish the re- | ligion of | Britiain, | 7 a- | gainst the | tyranny of | Rome, | if these | worse than | Popish | cruelties, | 7 and in- | quisi- | torial | practices, | are en- | dured a- | mong us. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 To | send forth the | merciless | Indian, | 7 7 | thirsting for | blood ! 7 1 7 a- | gainst | whom ? | 7 7 | your | protestant | brethren ! | 7 7 | 7 to | lay 7 | waste their | country, | 7 to | desolate their | dwellings, | 7 and ex- | tirpate their | race and | name, | 7 by the | aid and | instrumen- | tality of | these un- | governable | savages ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Spain can | no | longer | boast | 7 pre- | eminence | 7 in bar- | barity. | 7 7 | 7 7 | She | armed herself 7 | with | blood 220 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. hounds | 7 to ex- | tirpate the | wretched | natives of | Mexico ; | 7 7 | we, | more | ruthless | loose those | bru- tal | warriors | 7 a- gainst our | countrymen | 7 in A- | merica, | 7 en- | deared to us | 7 by | every | tie | 7 that can | sanctify hu- | manity. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | solemnly | call upon your | lordships, | and upon | every | order of | men in the | State, | 7 to stamp upon | this 7 | infamous pro- | cedure 7 the in- | delible | stigma | 7 of the | pub- lic ab- | horrence. | 7 7 | 7 7 | More par- |ticularly, | 7 I | call upon the | venerable | prelates | 7 of our re- | h"gion, | 7 to | do a- | way this i- | niquity : | 7 7 | let them per- | form a lus- | tration | 7 to | purify the | country | 7 from this | deep 7 | 7 and | deadly | sin. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | Lords, 7 | 7 I am | old | 7 and | weak, | 7 and at | present | 7 un- I able to | say | more ; I 7 7 | but my | feelings and indig- | nation I 7 were 1 too | strong to | have al- | lowed me to | say | less. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | could not have | slept 7 | this 7 | night | in my | bed, | 7 nor | even re- | posed my | head | upon my | pillow, | 7 with- | out 7 1 giving | vent to my | stedfast ab- | horrence | 7 of | such e- | normous | 7 and pre- | posterous | prin- ciples. | 7 7 | 7 7 | ON THE BEING OF A GOD. Young. 7 Re- j tire ; 7 | 7 the | world 7 | shut 7 | out ; 7 | 7 thy | thoughts | call | home : | 7 I- | magi- | nation's | airy | wing 7 | 7 re- | press ; 7|7 7| EXERCISES. 221 Lock up thy | senses ; | 7 7 | let no | passion | stir ; 7 | Wake | all to | reason : | 7 7 | 7 let ( her 7 | reign a- | lone ; 7 | 7 7 | Then 7 | 7 in thy | soul's | deep 7 | silence, | 7 and the | depth 7 | 7 Of | nature's | silence, | 7 7 | midnight, | 7 7 | thus in- 1 quire, 7 | 7 As | I have | done ; 7 | and shall in- | quire no | more, j 77|77| 7 In | nature's | channel | thus the | questions | run.| 7 7 1 7 7 1 "What| aml?| 7 and from | whence ? | 7 7 |7l | no- thing | know, 7 1 But that 1 1 am ; | 7 7 | 7 and | since I | am, | 7 con- | elude 7 | Something e- | ternal : | 7 7 | had there | e'er been | nought, | Nought I still had | been : | 7 e- | ternal ! 7 there | must | be. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 [ 7 But | what e- | ternal? | 7 7 | Why not | human | race ? | 7 7 | 7 And | Adam's | ancestors | 7 with- | out an | end ? 7 | . 77 | 77 | That's | hard to be con- | ceived ; 7 | 7 since | every | link 7 | 7 Of | that | long 7 | chained sue- | cession | 7 is | so 7 | frail ; 7 | 7 Can | every | part de- | pend, 7 | 7 and | not the | whole?| 7 7 | 7 Yet | grant it | true ; 7 | new | difficulties | rise ; 7 | 7 I'm | still | quite 7 | out at | sea : 7 | 7 nor | see the | shore. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 19* 222 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Whence | earth, 7 | 7 and | these | bright | orbs ? 7 | 7 E- | ternal | too? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Grant | matter | 7 was e- | ternal ; | 7 7 | still these | orbs 7 | 7 Would | want some j other | father ; | 7 7 | much de- | sign 7 | 7 Is | seen in | all their | motions, | 7 7 | all their makes ; | 7 t 7 j 7 De- | sign | 7 im- | pliesin- 1 telligence | 7 and | art 7|7 7 | That 7 | can't be | from them- | selves | 7 or | man ; 7 | that 7 | art 7 | Man | scarce can | compre- | hend, 7 | 7 could | man | 7 be- | stow? 7 | 7 And | nothing | greater | yet al- | low'd | 7 than | man, 7 | 7 7 | Who, | motion, | 7 7 | foreign to the | smallest |grain, | Shot through | vast 7 | masses I 7 of e-| normous | weight? 7 | 7 7 | Who | bid 7 | brute 7 | matter's | restive | lump as-| sume 7 | 7 Such | various | forms, 7 | 7 and | gave it | wings to | fly ? I 7 7 | Has | matter | innate | motion? | 7 7 | then 7 | each 7 | atom, | 7 As- | serting its in- | disputable | right 7 | 7 To | dance, | 7 would | form an | universe of | dust : 7 | 7 Has | matter | none ? | 7 7 | Then 7 | whence those | glorious | forms | 7 And | boundless | flights, 7 | 7 from | shapeless | 7 and re- | posed? | 77 | 7 Has | matter | more than | motion? | has it | thought, | Judgment and | genius ? | 7 7 | Is it | deeply | learned | EXERCISES. 223 7 In | mathe- | matics ? | 7 7 | Has it | framed | such 7 | laws, | Which but to | guess 7 | 7 a | Newton | made im- | mortal? | 7 If | so, 7 | how 7 | each 7 | sage | atom | laughs at j me, 7 | 7 Who | think a | clod in- | ferior | 7 to a | man ! 7 | 7 If | art to | form ; | 7 and | counsel to con- | duct ; 7 | 7 Re- | sides not | 7 in | each 7 | block ; 7 | 7 a | God- head | reigns. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Grant 7 1 then 7 1 7 in- 1 visible 1 7 e- | ternal | mind ; |7 7 | That | granted, | all is | solved | 7 7 | But 7 | granting | that 7 | Draw I not | o'er me | 7 a still | darker | cloud ? 7 | Grant I not | that 7 | which I can | ne'er | con- | ceive ? | 7 7 | 7 A | Being | without | origin | 7 or | end ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Hail | human | liberty ! | 7 there | is no | God ! 7 | 7 Yet | why? 7 | 7 on | either | scheme | that 7 | knot sub- | sists ; 7 | 7 Sub- | sist it | must, 7 | 7 in | God, 7 | 7 or | human | race : If in the | last, 7 | 7 how | many | knots be- | side, 7 | 7 In- | dissoluble | all? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Why | choose it | there, 7 | Where | chosen | still sub- | sist 7 | ten | thousand | more ? | 7 7 | 7 Re- | ject it, | where | that | chosen | 7 7 1 all the | rest 7 | 7 Dis- | persed | leave | reason's | whole ho- |rizon | clear? 77 224 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. This is not | reason's | dictate, | 7 7 | reason | says 7 | Choose with the | side 7 | 7 where | one 7 | grain | turns the | scale ; | 7 7 | 7 What | vast pre- | ponderance | 7 is | here ! | 7 7 | 7 can | reason | 7 With | louder | voice ex- | claim | 7 Be- | lieve a | God ? 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | reason | heard | 7 is the | sole | mark of | man. 7 | 7 7 | What | things | 7 im- | possible | 7 must | man | think | true, 7 | 7 On | any | other | system ! | 7 7 | 7 and | how 7 | strange | 7 To | disbe- | lieve | 7 through | mere ere- | du- lity !" | 7 7 | 7 7 | If 7 | 7 in | this | chain | 7 Lo- | renzo | finds | no 7 | flaw, 7 | Let it for- | ever | bind him | 7 to be- | lief. | 7 7 | 7 And | where the | link | 7 in | which a | flaw he | finds? | 7 7 | And 7 | if a | God there | is, 7 | that | God | how | great ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | THE GRAVE. Montgomery. There is a | calm 7 | for I those who | weep, 7 | 7 7 7 A | rest 7 1 7 for | weary | pilgrims | found, 7 | EXERCISES. 225 7 They | softly | lie, 7 | 7 and | sweetly sleep, 7 | Low in the ground. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | storm | 7 that | wrecks the | wintery | sky 7 | No | more dis- | turbs 7 | their | deep re- | pose, 7 | 7 Than | summer | evening's | latest | sigh 7 | 7 7 | 7That | shuts | 7 the | rose.7 1 7 7 j 7 7 | 7 I | long to | lay | 7 this | painful | head 7 | 7 And | aching heart 7 | 7 be- 1 neath the | soil, 7 | 7 To | slumber in that | dreamless | bed 7 | 7 From | all | 7 my | toil. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 For | misery | 7 7 | stole me | 7 at my | birth 7 | 7 And | cast me | helpless | 7 on the | wild : 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | perish ; | 7 7 | O my | mother | earth 7 | Take | home | 7 thy | child. | 7 7 | 7 7 | On thy | dear | lap 7 | these | limbs re- | clined, 7 | 7 Shall j gently | 7 7 | moulder | 7 into | thee ; 7 | 7 Nor | leave | one | wretched | trace be- | hind, 7 | 7 7 | 7 Re- | sembling | me. 7 | 7 7 1 7 7 1 Hark ! 7 | 7 a | strange | sound | 7 af- | frights mine ear; 7| 77 | 7 My | pulse, | 7 my | brain | runs | wild, | 7 1 1 rave : 7 | 7 7 1 Ah ! | who art| thou whose | voice 1 1 hear? 7 7 7 1 7 7 1 1 am the Grave ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | Grave 7 | 7 (that | never | spake be- | fore, 7 | 7 Hath | found at | length a | tongue | 7 to | chide : 7 | O | listen I | 7 7 | I will | speak no | more : | 7 7 | 7 Be | silent, | Pride. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 226 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Art thou a | wretch, 7 | 7 of | hope | 7 for- | lorn, 7 | 7 The | victim | 7 of con- | suming | care ? 7 | 7 7 j Is thy dis- | traded | conscience | torn 7 | 7 By | fellde-|spair?|7 7| 7 7| 7 Do | foul mis- | deeds 7 | 7 of | former | times 7 | Wring with re- | morse thy | guilty | breast ? 7 And | ghosts | 7 of | unfor- | given | crimes | Murder thy | rest ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Lash'd by the | furies | 7 of the | mind, 7 | 7 From | wrath and | vengeance | 7 would'st thou flee ? 7 | 7 7 | Ah! | think not, | hope not, | fool, 7 | 7 to | find 7 | 7 A ! friend | 7 in | me. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 By | all the | terrors of the | tomb, 7 | 7 Be- | yond the | power of [ tongue | 7 to | tell 7 | 7 By the | dread | secrets of my | womb 7 | 7 By | death | 7 and | hell ? | 7 I | charge thee | live? | 7 re- | pent and | pray; 7 | 7 In | dust thine | infamy de- | plore ; 7 | 7 There | yet is | mercy ; | 7 7 | go thy | way 7 | 7And | sin? | 7no | more. | 7 7 | 77| 7 What | e'er thy | lot 7 | 7 who | e'er thou | be, 7 | 7 Con- | fess thy | folly, | 7 7 | kiss the | rod, 7 | And in thy | chastening | sorrows | see | 7The | hand | 7 of | God.7 | 7 7 | 77 | 7 A | bruised | reed 7 | 7 he j will not | break ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 Af- | flictions | aU his | children | feel; 7 | 7 7 | EXERCISES. 227 7 He | wounds them | 7 for his | mercy's | sake, 7 j 7 He i wounds | 7to | heal!|77|77| Humbled be- | neath his | mighty ] hand, 7 | Prostrate | 7 his | Providence a- | dore : | 7 'Tis | done ! 7 | 7 a- j rise ! 7 | 7 7 | He | bids thee | stand, 7 | 7 To | fall | 7 no | more. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Now j traveller in the | vale of | tears ! | 7 To | realms of ever- | lasting- | light 7 | 7 Through | time's | dark | wilderness | 7 of | years, 7 7 Pur- 1 sue | 7 thy | flight. 7 | 77 1 7 7 | 7 There | is 7 | 7 a | calm for | those who | weep, 7 | 7 A | rest 7 | 7 for | weary | pilgrims | found ; | 77(7 And | while the j mouldering | ashes | sleep 7 | Low in the | ground ; | 7 The I soul 7 | 7 (of | origin | 7 di- 1 vine 7 | God's | glorious | image,) | 7 7 | freed from | clay 7 | 7 In | heaven's | 7 e- | ternal | sphere shall | shine 7 | 7 A | star | 7 of | day ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | sun is but a | spark of | fire, 7 | 7 7 | 7 A | transient | meteor | 7 in the | sky, 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | soul | 7 im- | mortal | 7 as its | sire 7 | 7 7 | Shall | never | die. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 228 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. THE POPLAR FIELD. Cowper. 7 The | poplars are | fell'd, | 7 7 | fare | well | 7 to the | shade, 7 | 7 And the | whispering | sound of the | cool | colo- | nade ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | winds | play no | longer | 7 and | sing in | the leaves, | 7 Nor | Ouse | 7 on his | bosom | 7 their | image | 7 re- | ceives. | 7 7 | 77 | Twelve | years | 7 have e- | lapsed, 7 | since I | last 7 | took a | view 7 | 7 Of my | favorite | field, 7 | 7 and the | bank where they | grew ; 7 | 7 And | now in the | grass | 7 be- | hold they are | laid, 7 | 7 And the | tree | 7 is my | seat, 7 | 7 tliat | once 7 | lent me a | shade. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | Blackbird | 7 has | fled to an- | other re- | treat, 7 | Where the | hazels | 7 af- | ford him a | screen from the | heat, 7 | 7 And the | scene | 7 where his | melody | charm'd me be- | fore, 7 | 7 Re- | sounds | 7 with his | sweet | flowing | ditty | 7 no | more. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | My | fugitive j years | 7 are | all | hasting a- | way, 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | I must ere | long 7 | lie as | lowly as | they, 7 | EXERCISES. 227 7 With a | turf on my | breast, 7 | 7 and a | stone at my | head, 7 | Ere an- | other such | grove | 7 shall a- | rise in its | stead. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 'Tis a | sight to en- | gage me | 7 if | any thing | can | 7 To | muse | 7 on the | perishing | nature of | man ; 7 | 7 7 | Though his | life 7 | be a | dream, 7 | 7 his en- j joy- ments, | 7 I | see, 7 | 7 Have a | being | less 7 | durable | 7 7 | even | 7 than he. 7 7 7 7 7 THE ROSE. Cowper. 7 The 1 rose had been | wash'd, 7 | just 7 | wash'd in a | shower, 7 | 7 Which | Mary to | Anna | 7 con- | vey'd; 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | plentiful | moisture | 7 en- | cumbered the | flower, 7 | 7 And | weigh' d down | 7 its I beautiful | head.| 7 7| 7 The | cup was all | fill'd 7 | and the | leaves were all | wet, 7 | 7 And it | seem'd to a | fanciful | view 7 | 7 To | weep for the | buds 7 | it had | left with re- | gret 7 | On the | flourishing | bush I 7 where it | grew. | 7 7|7 7| 20 228 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. I | hastily | seized it | 7 un- | fit as it | was 7 | 7 For a | nosegay, | 7 so | dripping and | drown'd |7 7| 7 And | swinging it | rudely, | too | rudely a- | las ! 7 | 71 | snapp'dit | 7 it | fell | 7 to the | ground. | 77|77 | 7 And | such 7 j 1 ex- | claim'd | 7 is the | pitiless | part, I 7 7 | Some 7 | act by the | delicate | mind ; | 7 Re- | gardless | 7 of | wringing and | breaking a | heart | Al- 1 ready to 1 sorrow re- | sign'd. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 This | elegant | Rose, | 7 had I | shaken it | less, | Might have | bloom'd with its | owner a | while ; | 7 And the | tear that is | wiped | 7 with a | h'ttle ad- | dress, 7 | May be | followed | 7 per- 1 haps 7 1 7 by a | smile. 7 7 | 77 | PARABLE OF THE PRODIGAL SON. Luke xv. 7 And | Jesus | said, | 7 A | certain | man | 7 had | two | sons : | 7 7 | 7 And the | younger of them | said to his | father, | 7 7 | Father, | give me the | portion of | goods | 7 that | falleth to me. | 7 7 | And he di- | vided unto them | 7 his | living. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | not 7 | many | days | after [ 7 the | young- er | son 7 | gathered | all to- | gether, | 7 and | took his | journey | into a | far | country, | 7 and | there 7 | wasted his | substance | 7 with | riotous | h'ving. | 7 7 | EXERCISES. 229 7 7 I 7 And | when he had | spent 7 | all, | 7 there a- | rose a | mighty | famine | 7 in | that | land : | 7 7 | And he be- | gan to be in | want. 7 j 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And he | went and | joined himself | 7 to a | citizen | 7 of that j country : | 7 7 | 7 and | he | sent him | into his fields | 7 to | feed 7 | swine. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And he would | fain have | filled himself | 7 with the | husks that the | swine did | eat : 7 | 7 7 | 7 but | no 7 | man | gave unto him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And when he came to | himself, | 7 he j said, 7 | 7 7 | How many | hired | servants of my | fa- ther's | have ' bread e- | nough | 7 and to | spare, | 7 and | I | perish with | hunger ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | I will a- | rise | 7 and | go to my | father, 7 and will | say unto him, | 7 7 [ Father, | 7 I have | sinned against | heaven, | 7 and be- [ fore | thee, 7 | 7 and am | no 7 more | worthy to be | called thy | son : | 7 7 | make me as | one of thy | hired | servants. | 7 7 | 7 7 I 7 And I he a- | rose, | 7 and | came to his | father. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | when he was | yet | 7 a | great | way | off, | 7 his | father | saw him, | 7 and | had com- | passion, | 7 and | ran, | 7 and | fell on his | neck, | 7 and | kissed him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And the | son | said unto him, | 7 7 | Father, | 7 I have | sinned against | heaven, | 7 and in | thy 7 | sight, | 7 and am | no 7 | more | worthy to be | called thy | son. 7 | 7 7 | *7 7 | But the | father | said to his | servants, | 7 7 | Bring forth | 7the best 7 | robe, 7 | 7 and | put it | on him ; | 7 7 | 7 and | put a ring on his | hand, 7 | 7 and | shoes on his | feet : 7 | 7 7 | 7 and | bring 7 | hither the | fatted | calf, | 7 and | kiU it ; | 7 7 | 7 and | let us | eat 7 | 7 and be | merry : | 7 7 | 7 For | this my | son | 7 was | dead, 7 | and is a- | live a- | 230 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. gain ; | 7 7 | he was | lost, | 7 and is | found. | 7 7 | And they be- | gan to be | merry. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Now his | elder | son 7 | was in the | field : | 7 7 | And as he | came and | drew 7 | nigh to the | house, | 7 he | heard | music and | dancing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And he | called | one of the | servants | 7 and | asked | 7 what | these | things | meant. | 7 7 | 7 "" | 7 And he | said un- to him, | 7 Thy | brother is come ; | 7 7 | 7 and thy | father |?hath | killed the | fatted | calf,7 7 be- | cause he hath re- | ceived him | safe and | sound. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And he was | angry, | 7 and | would not | go | in : | 7 7 | therefore | came his | father | out, 7 | 7 and in- | treated him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And he | answering | said to his | fa- ther, | 7 7 | Lo these | many | years 7 | 7 do | I | serve thee, | 7 7 | neither trans- | gressed I at | any | time | 7 thy com- | mandment : | 7 7 | 7 and | yet thou | never | gavest | me a | kid, 7 | that I might | make | merry with my | friends : | 7 7 | But as | soon as | this thy | son | 7 was | come, 7 | which hath de- | voured thy | living with | harlots, | thou hast | killed for | him | 7the | fatted | calf. I 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And he | said unto him, 7 7 | Son, 7 | thou art | ever | with me, | 7 and | all that I | have is | thine. | 7 7 | 7 7 | It was j meet that | we should make | merry, | 7 and be | glad : | 7 7 | 7 for | this thy | brother | 7 was | dead | 7 and is a- | live a- | gain ; | 7 and was | lost, | 7 and is | found. | 7 7 | 7 7 j EXERCISES. 231 PSALM CXXXIX. O I Lord, 7 | thou hast | searched me, | 7 and known me. | 7 7 J 7 7 | 7 Thou | knowestmy | down sitting | 7 and mine | up 7 | rising, | 7 thou | uuder- standest my | thoughts | 7 a- | far | off. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 Thou | compassest my | path, 7 | 7 and my | lying down, 7 | and art ac- | quainted with | all my | ways. | 7 7 | For there is | not a | word in my | tongue, | 7 but | lo, 7 | O 7 | Lord | thon 7 | knowest it 1 alto- j gether. ! 7 7 | 7 7 | Thou hast be- | set me | 7 be- | hind and be- | fore, 7 | 7 and | laid thine | hand upon me. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Such 7 | knowledge is | too | wonderful for | me : | 7 7 | it is | high 7 | 7 I | cannot at- | tain unto it. | 7 7| 77 | Whither shall I I go 7 | 7 from thy | spirit? | 77 | 7 or | whither shall I | flee from thy j presence ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | If I as- | cend 7 | up into I heaven, | 7 7 j thou art | there : | 7 7 | if I | make my | bed in | hell | 7 be- | hold, 7 | thou art | thdre. | 7 7 | 7 7 | If I I take the wings of the | morning | 7 and | dwell in the | utter- most | parts of the | sea : 7 | 7 7 | Even | there | 7 shall | thy 7 | hand 7 | lead me, | 7 and thy | right 7 | hand shall | hold me. | 7 7 | 7 7 | If I | say, 7 | Surely the | darkness shall | cover me : | 7 7 | even the | night 7 | 7 shall be | light about me : | 7 7 j Yea | 7 the j dark- ness | hideth not from | thee ; | 7 7 | but the | night | shineth as the | day: | 7 7 | 7 the | darkness | and the 1 light 7 | 7 are | both a- | like to | thee. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 232 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. AGAINST PROCRASTINATION. Young. 7 Be | wise to- | day ; 7 | 7 'tis | madness | 7 to de- | fer ; 7 | 7 7 | Next | day | 7 the | fatal | precedent | 7 will | plead, | 7 7 | Thus | on, 7 | 7 till | wisdom | 7 is | pushed | out of | life. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Pro- 1 crasti- | nation | 7 is the | thief of | time;7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Year after | year it | steals, | 7 till | all are | fled, 7 | And to the | mercies of a | moment | leaves 7 | 7 The | vast con- | cerns | 7 of an e- | ternal | scene. 7 | 77|77| If | not so | frequent, | would not | this be | strange ? 7 | 7 That | 'tis so | frequent, | this is | stranger | still. | 77|77| 7 Of | Man's mi- | raculous mis- | takes, 7 | this 7 | bears 7 | 7 The | palm, 7 | 7 that | all men | 7 are a- | bout to | live, 7 | 7 For | ever | 7 on the | brink of | being | born. | 7 7 | 7 7 | All | pay themselves the | compliment to | think | 7 They | one day | shall not | drivel ; | 7 and their | pride 7 | 7 On | this re- | version | takes up | ready | praise, 7 | 7 At | least their | own : | 7 their | future | selves | 7 ap-| plaud ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | How | excellent j that 7 | life | 7 they | ne'er will | lead! 7 | 7 7 | Time | lodged in their | own | hands | 7 is | folly's | vails ; | 7 7 [ EXERCISES. /hj fll V EW6-I T That 7 | lodged in | fate's, | 7 to | ttjsdqin | 7 they con- | sign ; | 7 7 | 7 The | thing they | can't but | purpose, | 7 they post- | pone ; 7 | 'Tis not in | Folly, | not to | scorn a | fool ; 7 7 | 7 And | scarce | 7 in | human | wisdom, | 7 to | do | more. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | All | promise | 7 is | poor | dilatory | man, 7 | 7 And | that 7 | 7 through | every | stage : | 7 7 | 7 when | young, | 7 in- | deed, 7 | 7 In | full con- | tent we | sometimes | nobly | rest 7 | 7 Un- | anxious for our- | selves ; 7 | 7 and | only | wish,7| 7 As | duteous | sons, 7 | 7 our | fathers | 7 were more | wise. 7 | 7 7 | 7 At | thirty | 7 7 | man | 7 sus- | pects himself | 7 a | fool ; 7 | 7 7 | Knows it at | forty, | 7 and re- | forms his | plan ; | 7 7 | 7 At | fifty | 7 7 | chides his | infamous de- | lay, 7 | 7 7 | Pushes his | prudent | purpose | 7 to re- | solve ; | 7 In | all the | magna- | nimity of | thought 7 | 7 Re- | solves ; 7 | 7 and | re-re- | solves ; 7 | then 7 | dies the | same. | 7 7 | 7 7 | * EXTRACT FROM COWPER 5 S TASK. Book 5. 7 Ac- I quaint thyself with | God, 7 | 7 7 | if thou would'st | taste 7 | 7 His | works. | 7 7 | 7 Ad- | mitted | once to | his em- 1 brace 7 I 234 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Thou shalt per- | ceive 7 | that thou wast | blind be- j fore: | 77 | 7 Thine | eye shall be in- j structed ; | 7 7 | and thine | heart, 7 | Made 7 | pure, | 7 shall | reb'sh with di- | vine de- | light 7 | 7 Till | then un- | felt, 7 | 7 what | hands di- | vine have | wrought. | 7 7 | Brutes | graze tlie | mountain | top, | 7 with | faces | prone | 7 7 | 7 And | eyes | 7 in- j tent | 7 upon the scanty | herb, 7 | 7 It | yields them ; | 7 7 | or re- | cumbent on its | brow 7 | Ruminate | 7 7 | heedless | 7 of the | scene out- 1 spread 7 | 7 Be- | neath, | 7 be- | yond 7 | 7 and | stretching | far a- | way 7 | 7 From | inland | regions | 7 to the | distant | main.| 7 7 | 7 7 | Man | views it, | 7 and ad- | mires ; | 7 7* | 7 but | rests con- | tent 7 | 7 With | what he | views. | 7 7 | 7 The | landscape | has his | praise, | 7 But | not its | author. | 7 7 | Uncon- | cerned 7 | who | formed 7 | 7 The | paradise he | sees, | 7 he | finds it | such 7 | 7 And | such 7 | well | pleased to | find it, | 7 7 | asks *no | more. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Not | so the | mind 7 | that has been | touched from | heaven, | And in the | school of | sacred | wisdom | 7 7 | taught 7 | 7 To | read 7 | his 7 | wonders, | 7 in | whose | thought | 7 the | world, 7 | 7 7 | Fair as it | is, 7 | 7 ex- j isted | ere it | was : | 7 7 | 7 7 | EXERCISES. 235 Not for its | own | sake 7 | merely, [ but for | his 7 | Much | more, | 7 who | fashioned it, | 7 he | gives it | praise ; | 7 7 | Praise | 7 that from | earth re- | suiting, | 7 7 | as it | ought 7 | 7 7 | 7 To|earth's ac- | knowledged | sovereign, | 7 7 | finds at | once 7 | 7 Its | only | just pro- | prietor | 7 in | Him. 7 | 7 7 1 7 7 | 7 The | soul that | sees him, | or re- | ceives sub- | limed 7 | New | faculties, | 7 or | learns at | least to em- | ploy 7 | More | worthily | 7 the | powers she | owned be- | fore, 7 | 7 Dis- | cerns in | all things | what with | stupid | gaze | 7 Of | ignorance, | 7 till | then she | over- | looked, 7 | 7 A | ray of | heavenly | light, 7 | gilding all | forms 7 | 7 Ter- | restrial | 7 in the | vast and the mi- 1 nute ; | 7 7 1 7 The | unam- 1 biguous | footsteps | 7 of the | God, 7 | 7 Who | gives its | lustre | 7 to an | insect's | wing, '7 | 7 And | wheels his | throne 7 | upon the | rolling | worlds. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Much | conversant with | heaven, | 7 she | often | holds 7 | 7 With | those j fair | ministers of | light to | man, j 7 That | fill the | skies 7 | nightly with | silent | pomp, 7 j Sweet | conference. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In- | quires what | strains were | they 7 | 7 With | which 7 | heaven | rang, | 7 when | every | star in | haste | 7 To | gratulate the | new-created | earth, 7 | Sent forth a I voice, 7 I 7 and I all the I sons of | God 7 j 236 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Shouted for | joy.7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | "Tell me, | 7 ye | shining | hosts, 7 | 7 That | navigate a | sea that | knows | no 7 | storms, 7 | 7 Be- | neath a | vault un- | sullied with a | cloud, | 7 7 1 If from your | ele- | vation, | 7 7 | whence ye | view | 7 Dis- 1 tinctly | 7 7 | scenes 1 7 in- | visible to | man, | 7 7 | 7 And | systems, | 7 of whose | birth no | tidings | yet 7 | 7 Have | reached this | nether | world, | 7 7 | 7 ye | spy a | race 7 | Favoured as | ours ; | 71 \ trans- | gressors from the | womb, 7 | 7 And | hastening to a | grave, 7 | yet 7 | doomed to | rise, 7 | And to pos- | sess a | brighter | heaven than | yours ? 7 7 \ 7 As | one who | long de- | tained on | foreign | shores, 7 1 Pants to re- | turn | 7 7 | and when he | sees a- | far | 7 His | country's | weather bleached | 7 and | battered | rocks, 7 | 7 From the | green | wave e- 1 merging, | darts an | eye 7 | Radiant with | joy 7 | towards the | happy | land ; | 7 7 1 So 7 | I | 7 with | animated | hopes be- | hold, 7 | 7 And | many an | aching | wish, | 7 7 | your | beamy | fires, 7 | 7 That | show like | beacons | 7 in the | blue a- | byss, 7 | 7 Or- | dained to | guide the em- | bodied | spirit | home | 7 From | toilsome | life 7 | 7 to | never- | ending | rest. 7 | 7 7 | Love | kindles | 7 as I | gaze. | 7 7 | 7 I | feel de- | sires, | 7 That | give as- | surance of their | own sue- | cess, 7 7 | EXERCISES. 237 And that in- | fused from | heaven 7 | must 7 | thither | tend. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | So | reads | he 7 | nature, | 7 7 | whom the | lamp of | truth | 7 II- | luminates. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thy | lamp 7 | 7 mys- | terious | word ! | 7 7 | 7 Which | whoso | sees | 7 7 | 7 no | longer | wanders | lost 7 | 7 With | intellects be | mazed in | endless | doubt, | 7 7 | 7 But | runs the | road of | wisdom. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thou hast | built | 7 With | means, 7 | 7 that | were not | till by | thee em- | ployed, | 7 7 | Worlds, that had | never | been | 7 hadst | thou in | strength | 7 Been | less, 7 | 7 or | less be- | nevolent than | strong. | 77 | 77 | They are thy | witnesses, | 7 7 | who | speak thy | power | 7 And | goodness | infinite, | 7 but | speak in | ears, | 7 That | hear not, | 7 or re- | ceive not | their re- | port. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In | vain | 7 thy | creatures | testify of | thee, | 7 Till | thou pro- | claim thy- | self. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Theirs is in- | deed | 7 A | teaching | voice ; 7 | but 'tis the | praise of | thine | 7 That | whom | it | teaches | 7 it | makes 7 | prompt to | learn, | 7 7 | And with the | boon 7 | gives | talents | 7 for its | use. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Till | thou | 7 art | heard, | 7 i- | magi- | nations | vain I 238 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 Pos- | sess the | heart ; | 7 7 | 7 and | fables | false as | hell, | Yet | deemed o- | racular, | lure | down to | death, 7 | 7 The | unin- | formed and | heedless | souls of | men. | 7 7 | 7 7 | We | give to | chance, 7 | blind | chance, 7 | 7 our- | selves as | blind | 7 The | glory of | thy | work ; | 7 7 | 7 which | yet ap- | pears 7 | Perfect | 7 and | unim- | peachable of | blame, | 7 7 | Challenging | human | scrutiny, | 7 and | proved 7 | Then | skilful | most | when most se- | verely | judg- ed. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | chance is | not ; | 7 7 | 7 or | is not | where | thou | reignest: | 7 7 | Thy | providence | 7 for- | bids that | fickle | power 7 | (7 If | power she | be 7 | 7 that | works but to con- | found) 7 | 7 To | mix her | wild va- | garies | 7 with | thy | laws. | 7 7 | Yet | thus we | dote, | 7 re- | fusing | 7 while we | can | 7 In- | struction, | 7 and in- | venting | 7 to our- | selves 7 [ Gods | such as | guilt 7 | makes | welcome ; | 7 7 | Gods that | sleep | 7 Or | disre- | gard our | follies, | 7 or that ] sit 7 | 7 A- | mused spec- | tators | 7 of this | bustling | stage. | 77|77| Thee | we re- | ject 7 | un- | able to a- | bide 7 | Thy 7 | purity, | 7 till | pure | 7 as | thou art | pure; | 7 7 | Made | such by | thee, | 7 we | love thee | 7 for | that 7 | cause I EXERCISES. 239 7 For | which we | shunned and | hated thee | 7 be- | fore. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then are we | free. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then | liberty | 7 like | day, | Breaks on the | soul, | 7 7 | and by a | flash from | heaven 7 | Fires | all the | faculties | 7 with| glorious | joy.| 7 7 | 7 7 1 7 A | voice is | heard, | 7 that | mortal | ears 7 | hear 7 | not 7 | 7 Till | thou hast | touched them ; | 7 'tis the | voice of | song, 7 | 7 A | loud ho- | sanna | sent from | all thy | works ; 7 | 7 Which | he that | hears it | 7 with a | shout re- | peats, 7 | 7 And | adds 7 | his 7 | rapture | 7 to the | general | praise. | 7 7 | 7 In | that 7 | blest | moment | 7 7 | Nature, | throwing | wide 7 | 7 Her | veil o- | paque, | 7 dis- | closes with a | smile 7 | 7 The | author of her | beauties, | 7 who | 7 re- | tired | 7 Be- | hind his | own ere- | ation, | works un- | seen 7 | By the im- | pure, | 7 and | hears his | power de- | nied. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thou art the | source | 7 and | centre of | ah 1 | minds, | 7 Their | only | point of | rest, 7 | 7 e- | ternal | word ! | 7 7 | 7 From | thee de- | parting, | 7 7 | they are | lost 7 | 7 and | rove | 7 At | random | 7 with- | out 7 | honour, [ hope, 7 | 7 or | peace. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 From | thee is | all that | soothes the | life of | man, | 7 His | high en- | deavour, | and his | glad sue- | cess, 7 | 21 240 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 His j strength to | suffer, | 7 and his | will to serve. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | oh thou | bounteous | Giver of | all j good, 7 Thou | art of | all thy | gifts 7 | 7 thy- | self the crown! | 7 7 | Give what thou | canst, | 7 with- | out thee | 7 we are poor; | 7 And | with thee | rich, 7 | take what thou | wilt a- away. | 7 7 | 7 7 | SONNET TO CYRIAC SKINNER. Milton. Cyriac, | 7 this | three years' | day 7 | these | eyes | 7 (though | clear, 7 | 7 To | outward | view, 7 | 7 of | blemish or of | spot) 7 | 7 Be- | reft of | light | 7 their | seeing | 7 have for- | got; 7 J 77 | Nor to their | idle | orbs | 7 doth | sight ap- j pear, 7 I 7 Of | sun, | 7 or | moon, or | star, | 7 through- | out the year, 7 | 7 Or | man or | woman. | 7 7 | Yet I | argue not | 7 A- | gainst | Heaven's | hand or | will, | 7 nor | bate a | JOt 7 | 7 Of | heart or | hope ; 7 | 7 but | still | bear | up and | steer | Right | onward. | 7 7 | What sup- | ports me | 7 7 | dost thou I ask ? I EXERCISES. 241 7 7 | 7 The | conscience, | friend 7 | 7 to have | lost them | over- | plied 7 f 7 In | liberty's de- | fence, | 7 my | noble | task, 7 | 7 Of | which | all | Europe | rings 7 | 7 from | side to | side. | 7 7 | 7 7 | This | thought | 7 might | lead me | 7 through the \ world's | vain | mask | 7 Con- | tent | 7 though | bh'nd, 7 | 7 had I | no | better | guide. | 7 7 | 7 7 | SONNET ON HIS BLINDNESS. Milton. When I con- | sider | how my | life | 7 is | spent 7 | Ere | half my | days, | 7 in | this | dark | world and | wide 7 | And that | one | talent, | 7 which is | death to | hide, | Lodged with me | useless, | 7 though my | soul | more | bent 7 | 7 To | serve therewith | 7 my | Maker | 7 and pre- | sent 7 | 7 My | true ac- | count, lest | he re- | turning | chide ; | 7 7 | Doth | God ex- | act 7 | day | labor, | 7 7 | light de- | nied ? | 7 1 1 fondly | ask : | 7 7 | 7 But | patience | 7 to pre- | vent 7 | 7 That | murmur, | soon re- 1 plies, 7 | God doth not | need | 242 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Either | man's | work, | 7 or his | own | gifts ; 7 j who best 7 j Bear his mild | yoke, | they | serve him | best ; | his state 7 | 7 Is | kingly ; | 7 7 | thousands at his | bidding | speed, ~ And | post o'er | land and | ocean | 7 without | rest ; | They | also | serve | 7 who | only | stand | 7 and wait. I 7 7 I 7 7 I APOSTROPHE TO LIGHT. Milton. Hail | holy | Light, 7 | 7 7 | offspring of | Heaven | first | born, 7 | 7 7 | Or of the e- | ternal | 7 7 1 co-e- 1 ternal | beam, | 7 7 | May I ex- | press thee \ un- | blamed ? 7 | 7 7 1 Since 7 | God is | light, 7 | 7 And | never | 7 but in | unap- | preached | light 7 | Dwelt from e- | ternity, | 7 7 | dwelt | then in | thee, 7 | 7 7 | Bright | effluence | 7 of | bright | essence | incre- j ate 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Or | hear'st thou | rather, | 7 7 | pure e- | therial | stream, 7 | 7 7 | 7 Whose | fountain | who shall | tell 7 | 7 7 | 7 Be- | fore the | sun 7 | 7 Be- | fore the | Heavens | thou | wert, 7 | 7 7 | and at the | voice | 7 Of | God 7 | 7 7 | as with a | mantle, | 7 didst in- \ vest? I EXERCISES. 243 7 The | rising | world of | waters | 7 7 | dark | 7 and | deep 7 | 7 7 | Won from the | void | 7 and | formless | infi- nite. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thee I re- | visit | now 7 | 7 with | bolder | wing, 7 | 7 Es- | caped the | Stygian | pool 7 | 7 7 | 7 | though | long de- | tained 7 | 7 In | that ob- | scure so- | journ 7 | 7 7 j while 7 | 7 in my | flight, 7 | Through | utter | and through | middle | darkness j borne, | 7 With | other | notes | than to the Or- | phean | lyre 7 I | sung of | chaos | 7 and e- | ternal | night. 7 | 7 7 1 7 7 | Taught by the | heavenly | muse | 7 to venture | down 7 | 7 The dark de- | scent | 7 7 | 7 and | up to | re-as- | cend 7 | Though | hard 7 | 7 and | rare ; | 7 7 | Thee 1 re- | visit | safe 7 | 7 And | feel thy | sovereign | vital | lamp ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 but | thou 7 | 7 Re- | visit'st | not 7 | these eyes, 7 j 7 that | roll in | vain, | 7 To find thy | piercing ray, 7 | 7 7 7 and find | no | dawn ; | 7 7 | So 7 | thick a | drop se- | rene | 7 hath | quench'd their | orbs 7 | 7 7 | 7 Or dim suf-| fusion | veil'd. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Yet | 7 riot the | more 7 | Cease I to | wander | 7 7 | where the | Muses | haunt, | Clear | spring 7 | 7 or | shady | grove, 7 | 7 or | sunny | hill, 7 | 21* 244 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 7 | Smit with the | love of | sacred | song ; | 7 7 | 7 but | chief 7 | Thee | Sion, | 7 and the | flowery brooks be- | neath, 7 | 7 That | wash | thy | hallow'd | feet, 7 | 7 and | war- bling | flow, | 7 7 | Nightly | 7 1 1 visit : | 7 7 | 7 nor | some- | times | 7 for- | get 7 | Those | other | two | equalled with | me in | fate, 7 | 7 7 | So were | 1 1 equalled with | them in re- | nown 7 | 7 7 | Blind | Thamyris | 7 and | blind Mae- | onides, | 7 And Ty- | resias | 7 and | Phineas, | 7 7 | prophets | old : 7 | 7 7 | Then | feed on | thoughts, | 7 that | voluntary | move 7 | 7 Har- | monious | numbers ; | 7 as the | wakeful | bird 7 | Sings | darkling | 7 and in | shadiest | covert | hid 7 | 7 7 | Tunes her noc- | turnal | note. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thus with the | year 7 | Seasons | 7 re- | turn, 7 | 7 but | not to | me | 7 re- | turns | Day | 7 or the j sweet ap- | proach of | even | 7 and | morn ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 Or | sight of | vernal | bloom, | 7 or | summer's | rose, 7 | 77| 7 Or | flocks, 7 | 7 or | herds, 7 | 7 or | human face di- | vine ; , 7 7 | 7 But | cloud | 7 in- | stead, 7 | 7 and | ever | during | dark 7 | 7 Sur- | rounds me, | 7 from the | cheerful | ways of | men 7 | Cut 7 | off, 7 | and for the | book of | knowledge | fair 7 | 7 Pre- I sented I 7 with a I uni- 1 versa! I blank 7 I EXE11CISES. 245 7 Of | Nature's | works 7 | 7 7 | 7 to | me | 7 ex- | pung'd and | razed 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | Wisdom, | 7 at | one | entrance, | 7 7 | quite shut | out. | 7 7 | 7 7 | . So mueh the | rather | thou, | 7 ce- | lestial | Light 7 | Shine | inward, | 7 7 | 7 and the | mind | 7 through | all her | powers | 7 Ir- | radiate | 7 7 | there | plant |7 eyes, 1 7 7| all | mist from | thence | 7 7 | Purge and dis- | perse, 7 | 7 7 7 | that I may | see | 7 and | tell | 7 Of | tilings in- | visible | 7 to | mortal | sight. 7 | 7 7 1 7 7 | FOLK, THE GIFT OF MY COUSIN ANN BODHAM. Cowper. O that those | lips had | language ! | 7 7 | Life has | pass'd 7 | 7 With | me but | roughly | 7 7 | since I | heard you | last. 7 | 7 7 | Those | lips are | thine 7 | 7 thy | own | sweet 7 | smile I | see, 7 | 7 The | same, | 7 that | oft in | childhood | solaced me; | 7 7 | Voice 7 | only | fails, | else 7 | 7 how dis- | tinct they | say, 7 | Grieve not my | child, 7 | 7 7 | chase | all thy | fears a- | way ! 7 | 7 7 | 246 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 The | meek in- | telligence of | those | dear | eyes 7 | (Blest be the | art, 7 | that can im- | mortalize, | 7 The | art that | baffles | Time's ty- | ranic | claim 7 | 7 To | quench it) | 7 7 | here | 7 7 shines on me | still the | same. 7 | 7 7 | 77 | Faithful re- | membrancer of | one so | dear, | | welcome | guest, 7 | 7 though | unex- | pected | here ! 7 | 7 7 | 7 Who | bidd'st me | honor | 7 with an artless | song, 7 | 7 Af- fectionate, |7 a | Mother | lost so | long. | 7 7 77 | 1 will o- | bey 7 | 7 7 | not 7 | willingly a- | lone, 7 | 7 But | gladly, | 7 as the | precept | 7 were her | own : | 7 And | while that | face re- | news my | filial | grief, 7 | Fancy | 7 shall | weave a | charm | for my re- 1 lief, 7 | 7 Shall | steep me | 7 in E- | lysian | reve- | rie, 7 | 7 A | momentary | dream, 7 | 7 that | thou art | she | 77|77| 7 My | Mother ! | 7 when I | learn'd that | thou wast | dead, 7 | Say, 7 | wast thou | conscious | 7 of the | tears I shed ? | 7 7 | Hover'd thy | spirit I o'er thy | sorrowing | son, 7 | Wretch j even I then 7 | life's | journey ! just be- | gun? 7 | 77 | 7 Per- | haps 7 | 7 thou | gav'st me, | 7 7 | though un- j felt 7 |7akiss;7 | 7 7 | 7 Per- | haps a I tear, | 7 if | souls can | weep in | bliss 7 | Ah | that ma- | ternal | smile ! 7 | 7 it | answers | 7 7 | Yes. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | I | heard the | bell | toll'd on thy | burial | day, 7 | EXERCISES. 247 7 I I saw the | hearse | 7 that | bore thee slow a- | way, 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | turning from my | nursery | window, | 7 7 | drew 7 | 7 A | long | long | sigh | 7 and | wept a | last a | dieu ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | was it | such? 7 | 7 7 | 7 It | was. 7 \ 7 7 | Where | thou art | gone, 7 | 7 A- | dieus and | farewells | 7 are a | sound un- | known. | 7 7 | 7 7 | May I but | meet thee | 7 on | that 7 | peaceful | shore, 7 | 7 The | parting | word 7 | 7 shall | pass my | lips no | more ! | 7 7 | 7 Thy | maidens, | grieved | 7 them- | selves | 7 at | my con- | cern, 7 | Oft 7 | gave me | promise ( 7 of thy | quick re- 1 turn. 7 \ What I ardently I | wish'd, 7 | 7 I | long be- | liev'd, 7 | 7 And, | disap- | pointed | still, 7 j 7 was | still de- | ceiv'd. | 7 7 | 7 By | expec- | tation | every | day be- | guil'd, 7 | 7 7 | Dupe of to- 1 morrow 7 7 | even from a | child, 1 7 7 | Thus 7 | many a | sad to- 1 morrow | came and | went, 7 j 7 Till | all my | stock of | infant | sorrow | spent, 7 | 7 I | learn'd at | last 7 | 7 sub- | mission to my | lot, 7 j But 7 | though I | less de- | plored thee, | ne'er for- | got. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Where | once we | dwelt 7 | 7 our | name is | heard no | more. 7 | 7 7 | Children | not 7 | thine 7 | 7 have | trod my | nursery | floor ; 7 | 7 7 | And | 7 7 | where the | gard'ner | Robin, [ 7 7 | (day by | day,) 7 I 248 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 7 I Drew me to | school | 7 a- | long the | public | way, | 7 7 | 7 (De- | lighted with my | bauble | coach, 7 | 7 and | wrapp'd | 7 In | scarlet | mantle | warm and | velvet | cap'd) 7 | 7 'Tis | now be- | come a | history | little | known, 7 | 7 That | once we | call'd the | pastoral | house | 7 our | own. | 7 7 | Short lived pos- | session ! | 7 7 | but the | record | fair 7 | 7 That | memory | keeps | 7 of | all thy | kindness | there, 7 | Still | outlives | many a | storm | that has ef- | faced 7 | 7 A | thousand | other | themes | 7 less | deeply | traced. | 77| 7 Thy | nightly | visits | 7 to my | chamber | made, 7 | That thou might'st | know me j safe 7 | 7 and warmly | laid, 7 | 7 Thy | morning | bounties | 7 ere I | left my | home, 7 | 7 The | buiscuit, | 7 or con- | fectionary | plum ; 7 | 7 7 | The | fragrant | waters | 7 on my | cheeks be- | stow'd 7 | By thy | own | hand, 7 | 7 till | fresh they | shone 7 | 7 and|glow'd;7| 7 7 | All | mis, 7 | 7 and | more en- | dearing | still than | all, 7 | 7 Thy | constant | flow of | love, 7 | 7 that | knew | no | fall, 7 | Ne'er | roughen'd by those | cataracts and | breaks, 7 | 7 That | humor | 7 inter- | posed | too | often | makes ; 7 | 7 7 | All | this 7 | (still | legible in ] memory's | page, 7 | 7 And | still to | be so | 7 to my | latest | age) 7 | Adds | joy 7 | 7 to | duty, | 7 7 |makes me | glad to | pay 7 | EXERCISES. 249 Such I honours | 7 to thee | as my | numbers | may ; | 7 Per- | haps a | frail me- | morial, | 7 but sin- | cere, 7 | Not ! scorn'd in | heav'n, 7 | 7 though 7 | little | noticed | here. | 7 7 | 7 Could | time, 7 | 7 (his | flight re- | vers'd,) 7 | 7 re- | store the | hours, 7 | When 7 | playing with thy | vesture's | tissued | flow- ers, | 7 7 | 7 (The | violet | 7 the | pink | 7 and | jessamine,) | 7 I | prick'd them into | paper with a | pin, 7 | (7 And | thou wast | happier | 7 than my- | self tlie | while, 7 | Would'st | softly | speak | 7 and | stroke my | head 7 | 7 and | smile) 7 | Could 7 | those | |fe^ T | pleasant | days 7 | 7 a- | gain ap- | pear 7 | 7 Might | one 7 | wish | bring them, | 7 7 | would I | wish them | here ? 7 | 7 1 | would not | trust my | heart 7 | 7 7 | 7 the | dear de- | light 7 | Seems | so to be de- | sired, 7 | 7 per- | haps I | might 7 | 7 But | no | 7 what | here we | call our | life 7 | 7 is | such 7 | 7 So \. little | 7 to be- | loved, 7 | 7 and | thou | so 7 | much, 7 | 7 That | I should | ill re- | quite thee | 7 to con- | strain 7 | 7 Thy | unbound | spirit | 7 into | bonds a- | gain. 7 | 77|77| 250 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Thou 7 I 7 as a I gallant | bark, 7 | 7 from | Albi- on's | coast 7 | 7 7 | 7 (The | storms all | weather'd | 7 and the | ocean | cross'd) 7 | Shoots into | port 7 | 7 at | some well haven'd | isle, 7 | 7 Where | spices | breathe, | 7 and | brighter | seasons | smile, | 7 7 | There 7 | sits qui- | escent on the | floods, | 7 that | show 7 | 7 Her | beauteous | form 7 | 7 re- | fleeted | clear be- | low, 7 | 7 7 | 7 While | airs 7 | 7 im- | pregnated with | incence | play 7 | 7 A- | round her | fanning | light her | streamers | g*y ;) 7 | 7 7 | So | thou, 7 | 7 (with | sails 7 | how 7 | swift !) 7 | 7 hast | reach'd the | shore, 7 | 7 Where | tempests | never | beat 7 | 7 nor | billows | roar, 7 | 7 7 | 7 And thy | loved | consort | 7 on the | dangerous | tide 7 | 7 Of | life, 7 | long | since has | anchored by thy | side. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | me, | scarce | hoping to at- | tain that | rest, 7 [ Always from | port with- | held, 7 | always ,olis- | tress'd 7 | 7 7 | Me | howling | blasts | drive 7 | devious, | tempest | toss'd, 7 | Sails | ripp'd, 7 | seams | opening | wide 7 | 7 and | compass | lost, 7 | EXERCISES. 253 77 I 7 And | day by | day 7 | 7 some | current's | thwarting | force 7 | Sets me | more 7 | distant | 7 from a | prosperous | course. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Yet 7 | O the | thought, | 7 that | thou art | safe, 7 | 7 and | he ! 7 | That | thought is | joy, | 7 ar- | rive what | may to | me, 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | boast is | not, 7 | that I de- ] duce my | birth 7 | 7 From | loins en- | throned | 7 and | rulers of the | earth ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | higher | far 7 | my | proud pre- | tensions rise, 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | son of | parents | pass'd into the | skies. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | now, 7 | fare- | well. | 7 7 | Time | unre- | voked ( 7 has | run 7 | 7 His | wonted | course, 7 | yet 7 | what I | wish'd | 7 is | done. 7 j 7 7 | 7 By | contem- | plation's | help, 7 | 7 not | sought in | vain, 7 | 7 I | seem to have | lived my | childhood | o'er a- | gain ; 7 | To have re- | newed the | joys 7 | 7 that | once were | mine, 7 | 7 With- | out the | sin of | violating | thine ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | while the | wings of | fancy | still are | free, 7 | 7 7 | And I can | view this | mimic | show of | thee, 7 | Time | has but | half 7 | 7 sue- | ceeded in his | theft 7 | 7 7 | Thy- | self re- | moved | 7 thy | power to | soothe me | left. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 22 254 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. ON SINCERITY. From A. B. Tillotson, (Abridged.) Truth | 7 and sin- | cerity | 7 have | all the ad- | van- tages | 7 of ap- | pearance | 7 and | many | more. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 If the show of | any thing | 7 be | good for | any tiling | 7 7 | 7 I am | sure | 7 the re- | ality | 7 is | bet- ter : | 7 7 | 7 for | why | 7 does | any man | 7 dis- | sem- ble, | 7 or | seem to be | that which he | is not, | 7 7 | but be- | cause | 7 he | thinks it | good | 7 to | have the | quali- ties I 7 he pre- | tends to? | 7 7 | Now the | best j way | 7 for a | man to | seem to be | any thing, | is to | be in re- | ality, | 7 7 | what he would | seem to be : | 7 7 | 7 be- | sides, | 7 it is | often as | troublesome | 7 to sup- | port the pre- | tence of a | good | quality, | 7 as to | have it ; | 7 and | if a | man | have it not, | 7 it is | most | likely | he will be dis- | covered to | want it ; | 7 7 | 7 and | then, all his | labor to | seem to | have it, | 7 is lost. | 7 7 | 7 7 7 There is | something | un- I natural | 7 in | painting, 7 which a | skilful | eye | 7 will | easily dis- | cern | 7 from | native | beauty | 7 and com- | plexion. | 7 7 | 7 7 Therefore | 7 if | any man | think it con- | venient to seem | good, | let him | he so in- | deed : | 7 7 | 7 and then | 7 his | goodness will ap- | pear | 7 to | every one's satis- | faction. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Par- | ticularly, | 7 7 | as to the af- | fairs of | this | world, | 7 in- | tegrity | 7 hath many ad- | vantages | over | all the arti- | ficial | modes 7 of | dissimu- | lation | 7 and de- | ceit. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I is | much the | plainer | 7 and | easier, | 7 7 | much the safer, | 7 and | more se- | cure | way of | dealing in the world ; | 7 7 | 7 it has | less of ! trouble and | difficulty, EXERCISES. 255 7 of en- | tanglement | 7 and per- | plexity, | 7 of dan- ger and | hazard | 7 in it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | arts of de- | ceit and | cunning | 7 con- I tinu- ally | grow | weaker, | 7 and | less | serviceable | 7 to | those that | practise them ; | 7 7 | 7 where- | as | 7 in- | tegrity | 7 7 | gains | strength by | use ; | 7 7 | and the | more and | longer | any man | practiseth it, | 7 the | great- er | service | 7 it | does him; | 7 7 by con- | finning his | repu- | tation, | 7 and en- | couraging | those | 7 with | whom he | hath to | do, | 7 to re- | pose the | greatest | confidence | in him : | 7 7 | which is an un- | speakable ad- | vantage | 7 in | business, | and the af- \ fairs of | life. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | insin- | cerity | 7 is | very | troublesome to | manage. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 A | hypocrite | 7 hath so | ma- ny | things | 7 to at- | tend to, | 7 as | make his | life | 7 a | very per- | plexed and | intricate | thing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 A | liar I 7 hath | need of a | good | memory, | 7 7 | lest he | contra- | diet | 7 at | one | time | 7 what he | said at an- | other: | 7 7 | 7 but | truth j 7 is | always con- | sistent, [ 7 and | needs | nothing to | help it | out : | 7 7 | 7 it is | always | near at | hand, | 7 and | sits up- on our | lips ; | 7 7 | 7 where- | as a | lie | 7 is | trouble- some, | 7 and | needs a | great | many | more | 7 to | make it | good. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In a | word, | whatso- | ever con- | venience | may be | thought | 7 to | be in | falsehood | 7 and dis- | simu- | lation, | 7 it is | soon | over : | 7 7 | but the | incon- venience of it | 7 is per- | petual; | 7 7 | 7 be- | cause | 7 it | brings a | man | under an | ever-| lasting | jealousy | and sus- | picion ; | 7 7 | so that he is | not be- | lieved | 7 when he | speaks the [ truth ; ( 7 7 | nor | trusted | 256 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 when per- | haps, | 7 he | means | honestly. | 7 7 | 7 7 | When a | man hath | once | forfeited | 7 the|re- pu- | tation | 7 of his in- | tegrity, | 7 7 | nothing will | then | serve his | turn : | 7 7 | neither | truth | nor | falsehood. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In- | deed, | 7 if a | man were | only to | deal in the | world | 7 for a | day, | 7 7 | and should | never have oc- | casion | 7 to con- | verse | more | with man- | kind, | it were | then | 7 no | great | matter | 7 (as | far as res- | pects the af- | fairs of | this | world,) | 7 if he | spent his | repu- | tation | all at | once ; | "/ or ventured it | 7 at | one | throw. | 7 7 | 7 7 | But if he be to con- | tinue | 7 in the | world, | 7 and would | have the ad- | vantage of | repu- | tation | whilst he is | in it, let him | make | use of | truth | 7 and sin- | cerity | 7 in all his | words and | actions ; | 7 7 | 7 for | nothing but this | 7 will | hold | out | 7 to the | end. | 7 7 | 7 7 All | other | arts may | fail ; | 7 but | truth | 7 and in- tegrity | 7 will | carry a | man | through, | 7 and | bear him out 7 to the last. 7 7 7 7 HYDER ALL Extract from a speech of Mr. Burke. When at | length | Hyder | Ali | found, | 7 that he | had to | do with | men, | 7 who | either would | sign | no con- | vention, | 7 or | whom | no | treaty, | 7 and | no | signature | 7 could | bind ; | 7 and | who were the de- I terrained I enemies I 7 of I human I intercourse | EXERCISES. 257 7 it- | self, | 7 he de- | creed | 7 to | make the | coun- try | 7 pos- | sessed by | these in- | corrigible | 7 and pre- | destinated | criminals, | 7 a memorable ex- | am- ple | 7 to man- | kind. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He re- | solved, | 7 in the | gloomy re- | cesses of a | mind | 7 ca- | pacious of | such | things ; | 7 to | leave the | whole Car- | natic, | 7 an | ever- | lasting | monument of | vengeance, | 7 and to | put per- | petual | 7 deso- | lation, | 7 as a | barrier, | 7 be- | tvveen | him, | 7 and | those, | 7 a- | gainst | whom, | 7 the | faith | 7 which | holds the | moral | elements | 7 of the | world | 7 to- | gether, | 7 was | no pro- | tection. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He be- | came | 7 at | length | so | confident | 7 of his | force | 7 and | so col- | lected | 7 in his | might, | 7 that he | made | no | secret | 7 what- | ever, | of his dread- ful | reso- | lution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Having | terminated | 7 his dis- | putes | 7 with | every | enemy, | 7 and | every | rival, | 7 who | buried their | mutual | 7 ani- | mosities, | 7 in their | common | interest, | 7 a- | gainst the | creditors of the | Nabob of | Arcot; | 7 7 | 7 he | drew from | every | quarter, | 7 what | ever a | savage fe- | rocity | 7 could | add | 7 to his | new | rudiments | 7 in the | art of de- | struction ; | 7 and com- | pound- ing | all the ma- | terials of | fury, | 7 7 | havoc, | 7 and | deso- | lation, | 7 into | one | black | cloud ; | 7 he | hung for a | while | on the de- | clivities | of the | mountains. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Whilst the | authors of | all | these | evils, | 7 were | idly and | stupidly | gazing | 7 on this | menacing | me- teor, | 7 which | blackened | all the ho- I rizon, | 7 it | suddenly | burst, | 7 and I poured | down the | whole of its con- | tents, 1 7 upon the | plains | 7 of the Car- j 22* 258 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. natic. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then en- | sued a | scene of | wo ; f 7 the | like of | which | no | eye had | seen, [ 7 nor | heart con- | ceived, | and which | no | tongue | 7 can | ade- quately | tell. | 7 7 | 7 | All the | horrors of | war, | 7 be- fore | known or | heard of, | 7 were | mercy, | 7 to that new | havoc. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 A | storm of | uni- | versal fire | blasted | every | field, | 7 con- | sumed | every house, | 7 and de- | stroyed | every | temple. | 7 7 | 7 7 7 The | miserable in- | habitants, | 7 7 | flying from their flaming | villages, | 7 7 | 7 in | part, | 7 were | slaughter- ed, | 7 7 | others, | 7 with- | out re- | gard to | sex, | 7 to | age, | 7 to | rank, | 7 or | sacredness of | function | 7 7 ( fathers | torn from | children, | 7 7 | husbands, | 7 from | wives, | 7 7 | 7 en- | veloped in a | whirlwind of | caval- ry, | 7 and a- | midst the | goading | spears of | drivers, | 7 and the | trampling | 7 of pur- | suing | horses, | 7 were | swept into cap- | tivity, | in an un- | known | 7 and | hostile | land. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Those who were | able to e- | vade this | tempest, | 7 7 | fled to the | walled | cities. | 7 7 | But es- | caping from | fire, | sword, | 7 and | exile, | 7 they | fell into die | jaws of | famine. | 77| 77| 7 For | eigh- | teen | months | 7 with- | out inter- | mission, | 7 7 | this de- | struction | raged | 7 from the | gates of Ma- | dras | 7 to the | gates of Tan- | jore, [ 7 7 | 7 and | so com- | pletely | 7 did | these | masters in their | art, | Hyder | Ali, | 7 and his | more fe- | ro- cious | son, | 7 ab- | solve themselves | 7 of their | im- pious | vow, | 7 that | when the | British [ armies | tra- yersed, | 7 as they | did, | 7 the Car- | natic | 7 for [ hundreds of | miles | 7 in | all di- | rections ; | 7 7 | through the | whole | line of their | march, | 7 they | EXERCISES. 259 did not | see | one | man, | 7 7 | 7 not | one [ woman, | 7 7 | 7 not | one | child, | 7 7 | 7 not | one | four foot- ed | beast, | 7 of | any des- | cription | 7 what- | ever. [ 7 7 | 7 7 | One | dead | uniform | silence | 7 7 | reign- ed over the | whole | region. | 7 7 | 7 7 | FOURTH CHAPTER OF JOHN. 7 When | therefore | 7 the | Lord 7 | knew | 7 how the | Pharisees had | heard 7 | 7 that | Jesus | made and bap- | tised | more dis- I ciples than | John, | 7 though | Jesus him- | self | 7 bap- | tised | not, | but | 7 his dis- | ciples, | 7 he | left Judea, | 7 and de- | parted a- | gain | 7 into | Galilee. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And he must | needs | go | through Sa- | maria. | 7 7 J 7 7 | Then | cometh he | 7 to a | city of Sam- | aria, | 7 which is | called | Sy- char, | 7 7 | near to the | parcel of | ground | 7 that | Ja- cob | gave | 7 to his | son | Joseph. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Now | Jacob's | well J 7 was | there. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Je- sus | therefore | being | wearied with his | journey, | 7 7 | sat | thus | 7 on the | well : | 7 7 | and it was a- | bout the | sixth | hour. | 7 7 | 7 7 | There | cometh a | woman of Sam- | aria I 7 to I draw | water. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | saith unto her, | 7 7 | Give me to | drink, | 7 7 | 7 for his dis- | ciples | 7 were | gone a- | way | 7 into the | city, | 7 to | buy | meat. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then saith the | woman of Sam- | aria | unto him, | 7 7 | How is it | 7 that | thou, | being a | Jew, | askest | drink of | me, | who am a | woman of Sam- | aria ? | 7 for 260 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. the | Jews | 7 have | no | dealings | 7 with the Sam- | aritans. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | answered and | said unto her, | 7 7 | If thou | knewest the | gift of | God, | 7 and | who it | is | 7 that | saith to thee, | give me to | drink ; | 7 7 | thou wouldest have | asked of | him, | 7 and | he would have | given thee | living | water. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The woman | saith unto him, | Sir, | thou hast | nothing to | draw with, | 7 and the | well is | deep : | 7 7 | from | whence | then | hast thou | that | living | water ? | 7 7 | 7 Art | thou | greater than our | father | Jacob, | 7 who | gave us the | well, | 7 and | drank thereof, | 7 him- | self, | 7 and his | children, | 7 and his | cattle? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | answered and | said unto her, | 7 7 | whoso- | ever | drinketh of | this | water, | 7 shall | thirst a- | gain : | 7 7 | 7 but | whoso- | ever | drinketh of the | water | 7 that | I shall | give him, | 7 shall | ne- ver | thirst; | 7 7 | 7 but the | water that | I shall | give him | 7 shall | be in him | 7 a | well of | water, | 7 7 | springing | up | 7 into | ever- | lasting | life. | 77 | 7 7| 7 The woman | saith unto him, | 7 7 | Sir, | give me tliis | water, | 7 that I | thirst not, | 7 7 | neither | come | hither | 7 to | draw. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | saith unto her, 7 7 | Go, | call thy | husband, | 7 and | come | hither. 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | woman | answered and | said, | 7 I have no | husband. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | said unto her, 7 7 | thou hast | well | said, | 7 I have | no | husband : 7 7 | for thou | hast | had | five | husbands ; | 7 and he whom thou | now | hast, | 7 is | not thy | husband : 7 7 | 7 in | that 7 | said'st thou | truly. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | woman | saith unto him; 7 7 | Sir, | 7 I per- ceive | 7 that | thou art a | prophet. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Our fathers | worshipped | 7 in | this | mountain; | 7 7 | 7 EXERCISES. 261 and | ye | say, | that in Je- | rusalem | 7 is the | place | 7 where | men | ought to | worship. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | saith unto her, | 7 7 | woman, | 7 be- | lieve me, | 7 the | hour | cometh, | 7 7 | when ye shall | neither | 7 in | this | mountain, | 7 nor | yet in Je- | rusalem, | 7 7 ! worship the | Father. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Ye 7 | worship | 7 ye | know. not | what : | we | know | what | we | worship ; | 7 7 | 7 for sal- | vation | is of the | Jews. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But the | hour | cometh, | 7 and | now | is, | 7 when the | true | worshippers | 7 shall | worship the | Father | 7 in | spirit | 7 and in | truth : | 7 7 | 7 for the | Father | seeketh | such | 7 to | worship him. | 7 7 | 77 | 7 7 | God | 7 is a | spirit : | 7 and | they that | worship | him, | 7 must | worship him | IN | spirit | 7 and in | truth. | 7 7 I 7 7 | 7 The | woman | saith unto him, | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | know | 7 that Mes- | sias | cometh, | 7 which is | called | Christ : | 7 when | he is | come, | 7 he will | tell us | all things. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | saith unto her, | I that | speak unto thee | am | he. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And upon | this | came his dis- | ciples, | 7 and | marvelled | 7 that he | talked with the | woman : | 7 7 | 7 yet | no man | said, | what | seekest thou ? | 7 7 | 7 or | why | talkest thou | with her. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The woman then | left her | water-pot, | 7 and I went her | way | into the | city, 7 7 | 7 and saith to the | men, | 7 7 | come | see a | man | 7 that | told me | all things | 7 that | ever I | did : | 7 7 | is not | this the | Christ ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then | they went | out of the | city | 7 and | came unto him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In the | mean- | while | 7 his dis- | ciples | prayed him, | 7 7 | saying, | 7 7 | Master, | 7 7 | eat ; | 7 7 | 7 but he | said unto them, | I have | meat to | eat | 7 that | ye | know not of. | 7 7 7 7 | 262 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Therefore | said the dis- | ciples | one to an- | other, | 7 7 | 7 hath | any man | brought him | aught to | eat ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | saith unto them, | 7 7 | My | meat | 7 is to | do the | will of | him that | sent me, | 7 and to | finish his | work. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Say not ye, | there are | yet | four | months, | 7 and | then | cometh the | har- vest? | 7 7 | 7 be- | hold | 7 I | say unto you, | 7 7 | lift up your | eyes, | 7 and | look on the | fields; | 7 7 | for they are | white al- | ready | 7 to | harvest. I 7 7 | 7 And | he that | reapeth | 7 re- | ceiveth | wages, | 7 and | gathereth | fruit | 7 unto | life e- | ternal ; | 7 7 | 7 that | both | he that | soweth | 7 and | he that | reap- eth | 7 may re- | joice to- | gether. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | here- | in 7 | 7 is | that | saying | true, | 7 7 | One | soweth, | 7 and an- | other | reapeth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | sent you to | reap | that 7 | 7 where- | on ye be- | stowed | no | labour. | 7 7 | Other | men | laboured, | 7 and | ye are | entered | into their | labours. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | many of the Sa- | maritans | 7 of j that j city | 7 believed on him | for the | saying of the | wo- man, | 7 which | testified, | 7 he | told me | all that | ever I | did. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 So | when the Sa- | mari- tans | 7 were | come unto him, | 7 they be- | sought him | mat he would | tarry | with them : | 7 7 | 7 and he a- | bode | there | two | days. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And | many | more be- | lieved on him | 7 be- | cause of his | own | words ; | 7 and | said unto the | woman, | 7 7 | Now we be- | lieve, j not be- | cause of | thy | saying, | for we have | heard him | our- | selves, | 7 and | know, | 7 that | this | is | 7 in- | deed | 7 the | Christ, j 7 the | Saviour | 7 of the I world. I 7 7 | 7 7 I EXERCISES. 263 SATAN CALLING THE FALLEN ANGELS FROM THE OBLI- VIOUS POOL. Milton. Paradise Lost. Book I. 7 He | scarce had | ceas'd | when the su- 1 perior | fiend | 7 Was | moving | toward the | shore, | 7 7 | 7 his | ponderous | shield | 7 (E- | tlierial | temper, | massy, | large and | round) | 7 Be- | hind him | cast ! | 7 the | broad cir- | cumfe- j rence | '* Hung on his | shoulders, | 7 like the | moon, | 7 whose I orb, | 7 Thro' | optic | glass, | 7 the | Tuscan | artist | views, | 7 At | evening | 7 7 | 7 from the | top of | Fiesole, | Or in Val- | darno, | 7 to des- | cry | new | lands, | 7 7 | Rivers, or | mountains, | 7 on her | spotty | globe. | 77|77 | 7 His | spear | 7 to | equal | which 7 the | tallest | pine | Hewn on Nor- | wegian | hills | 7 7 | to be the | mast | 7 Of | some | great | admiral, | were but a | wand, | 7 He | walk'd with | 7 to sup- | port un- | easy | steps | Over the | burning | marl : | 7 7 | (not 7 | like 7 | those | steps | 7 On | Heaven's | azure !) | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 and the | tor- rid | clime | Smote on him | sore be- | sides, | 7 7 | vaulted with | fire. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Nathless | 7 he | so en- | dur'd | till on the | beach | 7 Of | that en- | flamed | sea | 7 he | stood, | 7 and | call'dl 7 His | legions, | 7 7 | angel | forms, | 7 who | lay, en- | tranc'd, | 264 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Thick as au- | tumnal | leaves | 7 that strew the | brooks | 7 In | Vallom- | brosa, | 7 7 | where the E- | trurian | shades, | High over- | arch'd | 7 em- | bower ; | 7 7 | 7 or | scat- ter'd | sedge | 7 A- | float, | when with | fierce 1 winds, | 7 O- | rion, | arm'd, | 7 Hath | vex'd the | Red | Sea | coast, | 7 whose | waves o'er- | threw | 7 Bu- | siris and his | Memphian | chivalry, | While with per- | fidious | hatred I 7 7 | they pur- | sued | 7 The I sojourners of | Goshen, | 7 7 | 7 who be- | held | 7 From the I safe | shore, | 7 their | floating | carcases | 7 And | broken | chariot | wheels : | 7 7 | so | thick be- | strown | Abject and | lost, 7 | lay | these, | 7 7 | covering the | flood, | 7 7 | Under a- | mazement of their | hideous | change. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | call'd | so | loud, | 7 that | all the J hollow | deep 7 Of | hell I 7 re- | sounded. | 7 7 | 7 7 | " Prin- | ces ! | 7 7 | Poten- tates ! | 7 7 | Warriors ! | 7 7 | 7 the | flower of | heaven, | 7 7 | once | yours | 7 7 | now | lost, | 7 7 | 7 If | such as- | tonishment as | this | 7 can | seize | 7 E- | ternal | spirits : 7 7 | or have ye | chosen | this | place, | EXERCISES. 265 7 To I slumber | here, 7 | as in the | vales of | heaven ? [ 7 7| 77| Or in this | abject | posture | 7 7 | have you | sworn | 7 To a- | dore the | Conqueror? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 who | now be- | holds | Cherub and | seraph | 7 7 rolling | 7 in the | flood, | 7 With | scatter'd | arms and | ensigns. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Till, a- | non, | 7 His | swift pur- | suers, | 7 from | heaven | gates, | 7 dis- | cern | 7 The ad- | vantage, | 7 7 | 7 and de- | scending, | 7 7 | tread us | down | Thus | drooping ; | 7 7 | 7 or with | linked | thunderbolts | Trans- | fix us to the | bottom of this | gulph. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 A- | wake ! | 7 7 | 7 a- | rise! | 7 7 | 7 or | be | - 7 for | ever | fallen !" | 7 7 | 7 7 I MARCO BOZZAR1S, THE EPAMINONDAS OF MODERN GREECE. (He fell in an attack upon the Turkish camp at Lapsi y the site of the ancient Plataa, August, 20, 1823, and expired in the moment of victory. 7 At | midnight | 7 7 | in his | guarded | tent 7 | 7 The | Turk | 7 was | dreaming | 7 of the hour, | 7 When | Greece, | 7 her | knee in | suppliance | bent 7 | 7 Should | tremble | 7 at his | power ; | 7 7 | 7 In | dreams, | 7 through | camp and | court 7 | 7 he | bore 7 | 7 The | trophies | 7 of a | conqueror | 23 266 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. In | dreams | 7 his | song of | triumph | heard ; | 7 7 [ 77| Then 7 | wore his | monarch's | signet | ring, | 7 7 I Then 7 | press'd that | monarch's | throne | 7 7 | 7 a I King; 7 | 7 7 | 7 As | wild his | thoughts7 | 7 | 7and | gay of | wing 7 | 7 As | Eden's | garden | bird. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 At | midnight | 7 in the | forest | shades, | 7 7 | 7 Boz- | zaris | ranged his | Suliote | band, | 7 7 | True | 7 as the | steel | 7 of their | tried | blades, | Heroes | 7 in | heart and | hand. | 7 7 | 7 7 | There had the | Persian's | thousands | stood, 7 | There | 7 had the | glad 7 | earth 7 | drunk their [ blood 7 | 7 On | oldPla- | taja's | day: | 7 And | now 7 | 7 there | breathed that | haunted | air 7 | The | sons ^ | 7 of | sires who | conquered | there, 7 | 7 With | arm to | strike 7 | 7 and | soul to | dare, | 7 As | quick, 7 | 7 7 | 7 as | far as| they. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 An | hour pass'd | on 7 | 7 7 | 7 the | Turk a- | woke : | 7 7 | That 7 | bright 7 | dream | 7 was his | last ; 7 | 7 7 J 7 He | woke 7 | 7 to | hear his | sentry's | shriek, | 7 To | arms ! | 7 they | come ! | 7 the Greek 7 | 7 the | Greek 7 | 7 He | woke to | die | 7 midst | flame and | smoke, 7 | 7 And | shout and | groan and | sabre stroke, 7 I 77)7 And | death-shots | falling | thick and | fast, 7 | 7 As | lightnings | 7 from the | mountain | cloud ; 7 | 77 | 7 And | heard, 7 | 7 with | voice as | thunder | loud, 7 | 7 Boz- | zaris | cheer his | band ; j EXERCISES. 267 7 7 I Strike 7 | 7 till the | last | armed | foe ex- | pires, 7 | 7 7 | Strike | 7 7 | 7 for your | altars | 7 and your | fires 7 | 77| Strike | 7 for the | green | graves of your | sires, | 7 7 | God 7 | 7 and your | native | land! 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | They | fought 7 | 7 like | brave | men 7 | long and | well, 7 | 7 7 | 7 They | piled that | ground j 7 with | Moslem | slain, 7 | 7 They | conquer'd | 7 7 | 7 but Boz- | zaris | fell, 7 | 7 7 | Bleeding at every | vein. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 His | few sur- | viving | comrades | 7 7 | saw 7 | 7 His | smile | 7 when | rang their | proud 7 | huzzah, | And the | red 7 | field 7 | 7 was | won; 7 | 7 7 | Then | saw in | death 7 | 7 his | eyelids | close 7 | Calmly, | as to a | night's re- 1 pose 7 | 7 Like | flowers at | set of | sun. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Come to the I bridal | chamber, | Death ! 7 | Come to the | mother, | 7 when she | feels 7 | 7 For the | first 7 | time 7 | 7 her | first-born's | breath ; | 7 7 | Come when the | blessed | seals 7 | Which | close the | pestilence | 7 are | broke 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | crowded | cities | wail its | stroke ; 7 | 7 7 | Come in con- | sumption's | ghastly | form, 7 | 7 The | earthquake | shock, 7 | 7 the | ocean | storm ; | Come when the | heart | beats | high and [ warm, 7 | 7 With | banquet | song, | 7 and dance and | wine, 7 1 7 7 | And | thou art | terrible ! | 7 the | tear, 7 | 7 The | groan, | 7 the | knell, 7 | 7 the | pall, 7 | 7 the | bier, I 268 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 And | all we | know, 7 | 7 or | dream or | fear 7 | 7 Of | agony, | 7 are | thine. | 7 7 | 7 7 | But to the | hero, 7 when his | sword 7 | 7 Has | won the | battle | 7 fqr the | free, 7 7 | 7 Thy | voice 7 | sounds like a | prophet's | word, 7 | 7 7 And in its | hollow | tones are | heard 7 | 7 The ) thanks of | millions | yet to | be. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 7 Boz- | zaris | 7 7 | 7 with the | storied | brave 7 ] Greece | nurtured | 7 in her | glory's | time, 7 | 7 7 | Rest thee | 7 7 | there is | no | prouder | grave, | Even in her | own 7 | proud 7 | clime. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 We | tell thy | doom 7 | 7 with- | out a | sigh ; 7 | For thou art | Freedom's | now, 7 7 and | Fame's 7 1 7 7 | One of the | few 7 | 7 the im- | mortal | names, | 7 7 | 7 That I were not I born to die. 7 I 7 7 I 7 7 I ADDKESS TO THE RAINBOW. Campbell. 7 And | yet, 7 | fair | bow, | 7 7 | no | fabling | dreams, 7 7 But | words of the Most 7 | High, 7 | 7 Have | told 7 | why | first thy | robe of | beams 7 | 7 Was | woven | 7 in the | sky. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | When o'er the | green un- | delug'd | earth 7 | Heaven's | covenant | 7 7 | thou didst | shine | 7 7 | How | came the | world's | grey | fathers | forth 7 I 7 To | watch thy | sacred | sign ! 7 7 | 7 7 | And when its | yellow | lustre | smiled 7 | 7 O'er | mountains | yet un- | trod, 7 | EXERCISES. 269 Each | mother | held a- | loft | 7 her | child 7 | 7 To | bless the | bow of | God. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 1 7 Me- | thinks, | 7 7 | 7 thy | jubilee to | keep, 7 | 7 The | first-made | anthem | rang 7 | 7 On | earth | 7 de- | livered from the | deep ; 7 | 7 7 | And the | first 7 | poet | sang. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 I Nor | ever shall the | Muse's | eye 7 1 7 Un- | raptured | greet thy | beam : | 7 7 | Theme of pri- | meval | prophecy, | 7 Be | still the | poet's | theme ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | earth | 7 to | thee her | incense | yields, 7 | 7 The j lark thy I welcome | sings, 7 | Where 7 | glittering in the | freshen'd | fields 7 | 7 The | snowy | mushroom | springs. | 7 7 | 7 7 | How | glorious is thy | girdle | cast 7 | 7 O'er | mountain, | tower, and | town, | 7 Or | mirror'd in the | Ocean | vast, 7 | 7 A | thousand | fathoms | down! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 As | fresh 7 | 7 in | yon ho- | rizon | dark, ( 7 As | young thy | beauties | seem, | As when the | eagle | 7 from the | ark 7 | First | sported | 7 in thy | beam. | 7 7 | 7 7 | For, 7 | faithful to its | sacred | page, | Heaven | still re- | builds | 7 thy | span, | 7 7 | 7 Nor | lets the | type 7 | grow | pale with | age | 7 That | first | spoke | peace | 7 to man. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 23* 270 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Shakspeare. Most | potent | grave, | 7 and | reverend | seigniors, | 7 My | very | noble, | 7 and ap- | proved | good | mas- | ters;|77 | That I have | taken a- | way | 7 this | old man's | daughter, | It is | most | true; | 7 7 | true, | 7 I have | married her; 7 The | very | head and | front | 7 of my of- | fending | 7 Hath | this ex- | tent, | 7 7 | no | more. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Rude | 7 am | I in | speech, | 7 And | little | bless'd | 7 with the | set | phrase of | peace ; | 7 7 | 7 For | since | these | arms of | mine | 7 had | seven years | pith, | 7 Till | now, | 7 some | nine | moons | wasted, | 7 they have | us'd | 7 Their | dearest | action | 7 in the | tented | field ; | 7 And | little | 7 of this | great | world | 7 can | I | speak | More than per- | tains | 7 to | feats of | broil, | 7 and | battle ; | 7 7 | 7 And, | therefore, | little | 7 shall I | grace my | cause, | 7 In | speaking | 7 for my- | self: | 7 7 | yet | 7 by your | patience, | 1 will a | round | 7 un- 1 varnish'd | tale de- | liver, | EXERCISES. ^, ., D:B* 7 Of my | whole | course of | love : | 7 what | charms, | 7 What | conju- | ration, | 7 and what | mighty | magic, | 7 (For | such pro- | ceeding | 7 1 am | charg'd with-| al,) | 7 I | won his | daughter | with. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Her | father | lov'd me ; | 7 7 | oft in- | vited me; | 7 7 | Still | question'd me | 7 the | story of my | life, | 7 From | year to | year ; | 7 7 | 7 the | battles, | sieges, | fortunes, | That I have | past. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | run it | thro' | even from my | boyish | days, | 7 To the | very | moment | 7 that he | bade me | tell it. | 7 Where- | in, | 7 1 | spoke, | 7 of | most dis- | astrous | chances; | 7 Of | moving | accidents, | 7 by | flood and | field ; | 7 Of | hair-breadth | 'scapes | 7 in the | imminent | deadly | breach 7 7 | 7 Of [ being | taken, | 7 by the | insolent | foe, | 7 And | sold to | slavery ; | 7 7 | of my re- | demption | thence ; | 7 7 | 7 Of | battles | bravely, | hardly | fought ; | 7 7 | 7 of | victories, | 7 For | which the | conqueror | mourn' d | 7 7 | so | many | fell ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Sometimes | 7 1 1 told the | story | 7 of a | siege, | 7 Where- | in, 7 | 7 I | had to | combat | plagues and | famine, | 7 7 | Soldiers | 7 un- | paid ; | 7 7 | fearful to | fight, | 7 yet | bold | 7 In | dangerous | mutiny. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 272 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. These | things to | hear | 7 Would | Desde- | mona | 7 7 | seriously | 7 in- | cline : | 7 7 | 7 But | still, | 7 the | house af- | fairs | 7 would | draw her | thence ; | 7 Which | ever, | 7 as she | could with | haste de- | spatch, | 7 She'd | come a- | gain, | and with a | greedy | ear | 7 De- | vour up | 7 my dis- | course : | 7 7 | 7 which | I ob- | serving, | Took | once | 7 a | pliant | hour ; | 7 7 | 7 and | found | good | means | 7 To | draw from her | 7 a | prayer of | earnest | heart, | That I would | all | 7 my | pilgrimage | 7 di- | late, | 7 Where- | of by | parcels | 7 she had | something | heard, | 7 But | not dis- | tinctively. | 7 7 | 7 7 | I | did con- | sent, | 7 And | often | 7 did be- | guile her | 7 of her | tears | 7 7 | When I did | speak of | some dis- | tressful | stroke | 7 That my | youth | sufFer'd. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | story | being | done, | 7 She | gave me, | 7 for my | pains, | 7 a | world of 1 sighs! | 7 7 | 7 She | swore, | 7 " In | faith | 7 'twas | strange, | 7 'twas | passing | strange ; | 7 7 | 7 'Twas | pitiful, | 7 'twas | wonderous | pitiful." | 7 7 | 7 She | wish'd | 7 she | had not | heard it ; | 7 7 | yet she | wish'd | That | heaven had | made | her | such a | man ; | 7 7 | 7 she thank'd me 7 7 EXERCISES. 273 7 And | bade me, | 7 7 | if I had a | friend that | lov'd her, ! 7 I | should but | teach him | how to | tell my | story, | 7 And j that would | woo her. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 On | this | hint | 7 I | spake. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 She | lov'd | me, | 7 for the | dangers | 7 I had | pass'd ; | 7 7 | 7 And | I | lov'd | her | that she did | pity them. | 7 7 | This, | only, | 7 is the | witchcraft | 7 I have | used. | 771771 CHILDE HAROLD. CANTO IX. CLXXXVI. Oh ! that the | Desert | 7 were my | dwelling place, | 7 With one | fair | Spirit | 7 for my | minister, | 7 7 | That I might | all for- | get the | human | race, | 7 And | hating | no one, | 7 7 | love | 7 but | only | her ! | 77 | 7 7 Ye Elements ! | 7 in | whose en- | nobling | stir | 7 I | feel myself ex- | alted; | 7 7 | Can ye | not | 7 Ac- | cord me | such a | being ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Do I | err | 7 In | deeming | such | 7 in- | habit | many a | spot ? | 7 7 | Though | with them | 7 to con- | verse, | 7 can | rarely | be our | lot. I 7 7 I 7 7 | 274 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. There is a | pleasure | 7 in the | pathless | woods, [ 7 7 | There is a | rapture | 7 on the | lonely | shore, | 7 7 | There is so- | ciety, | 7 where | none in- | trudes, | 7 By the | deep | sea, | 7 and | music | 7 in its | roar. | 7 7 | 7 I | love not | man | 7 the | less, | 7 but | nature | more, | 7 From | these our | interviews | 7 in | which I | steal | 7 From | all I | may be, | 7 or | have been | 7 be- | fore, | 7 7 | " 7 To | mingle | 7 with the | universe, | and | feel | What I can | ne'er ex- | press, | 7 yet | cannot | all | 7 con- | ceal. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Roll | on I 7 thou | deep | 7 and | dark | blue | ocean, ] 77|roU! '77 | 77' Ten | thousand | fleets | 7 7 | sweep | over thee | 7 in | vain, | 7 7 | 7 7 | Man | marks the | earth | 7 with | ruin, | 7 7 | his con- | trol| Stops with the | shore; | 7 7 | upon the | watery | plain, | 7 The | wrecks are | all | thy | deed ; | 7 7 | nor doth re- | main | 7 A | shadow of | man's | ravage, | 7 7 | save his | own | 7 7 | When for a | moment, | 7 7 | like a | drop of | rain, | 7 He | sinks into thy | depths | 7 with | bubbling | groan, | 7 With- | out a | grave, | 7 7 | 7 un- | knell'd, | 7 un- | coffin'd, | 7 and un- | known. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 His | steps | 7 are | not upon | thy | paths; | thy ) fields | EXERCISES. 275 7 Are | not a | spoil | 7 for | him ; | 7 7 | thou dost a- | rise | 7 And | shake him | from thee ; | 7 7 | 7 the | vile | strength he | wields | 7 For | earth's de- | struction, | 7 7 | thou dost | all des- | pise, | 7 7 | Spurning him | 7 from thy | bosom, | 7 to the | skies, | 7 7 | 7 And | send'st him, | shivering | in thy | playful | spray | 7 And | howling | 7 to his | Gods, | 7 7 | where | haply | lies | 7 His | petty | hope, | 7 in | some | near | port | 7 or | bay, | 7 7 | Then | dashest him | 7 a- 1 gain | 7 to | earth, | 7 7 | there | let him | lay. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | armaments | 7 which | thunderstrike | 7 the | walls | 7 Of | rock-built | cities, | 7 7 | bidding | nations | quake, | 7 7 | 7 And | monarchs | 7 7 | tremble | 7 in their | capitals, | 7 7 | 7 The | oak le- | viathans, | 7 whose | huge | ribs | make | 7 Their | clay ere- | ator | 7 7 | 7 the | vain | tide | take, | 7 Of | lord of | thee, | 7 and | arbiter of | war! | These are thy | toys, | 7 7 | and as the | snowy | flake, | 7 They | melt into thy | yeast of | waves, | 7 which | mar | 7 A- | like the Ar- | mada's | pride, | or | spoils of | Trafal- | gar. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Thy | shores are | empires | 7 7 | chang'd in | all | save I thee, I 276 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 7 | 7 As- | syria, | 7 7 | Greece, | 7 7 [ Rome, | 7 7 | Carthage, | 7 7 | what are | they ? | 7 7 | Thy | waters | wasted them | 7 7 | while they were | free, | 7 7 | 7 And | many a | tyrant | since : | 7 7 | 7 their | shores | 7 o- | bey | 7 The | stranger, | slave, | 7 or | savage; | 7 7 | their de- | cay | 7 Has | dried up | realms | 7 to | deserts, | 7 7 | not | so | thou, | 7 7 | Un- | changeable, | 7 7 | save to thy | wild [ waves | play: | 77 | Time | writes | no | wrinkle | 7 on | thine | azure | brow; | 7 7 | Such as ere- | ation's | dawn | 7 be- | held, | 7 7 | 7 thou | rollest | now. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thou, | 7 7 | glorious | mirror 7 | where the Al- | mighty's | form 7 7 1 Glasses it- | self in | tempests; \ 7 7 | 7 hi | all | time, | 7 7 | Calm or con- | vuls'd | 7 7 | 7 in | breeze | or | gale, | or | storm, | 7 7 | Icing the | pole, | or in the | torrid | clime | Dark | heaving ; | 7 7 | boundless, | 7 7 | endless, | 7 7 | 7 and sub- | lime | 7 7 | 7 The | image of E- | ternity ! | 7 7 | 7 the | throne, | 7 Of the In- | visible ; | 7 7 | even from | out thy | slime | 7 The | monsters of the | deep | 7 are | made : | 7 7 | each I zone I EXERCISES. 277 7 O- I beys thee ; | 7 7 | thou | goest | forth | dread | fathomless, | 7 a- | lone. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And I have | loved thee, | Ocean ! | 7 and my | jy I 7 Of | youthful | sports | was on thy | breast | to be | Borne, | like thy | bubbles, | onward: | 7 from a | boy | 7 I | wanton'd with thy | breakers ; | 7 7 | they to | me | Were a de- | light ; | 7 7 | and if the | freshening | sea | Made them a | terror, | 7 .7 | 7 'twas a | pleasing | fear, | 7 For | I was | 7 as it were | 7 a | child of | thee | 7 And | trusted to thy | billows | 7 7 | far and | near, | 7 And | laid my | hand | 7 upon thy | name, | 7 as I | do here. 7 7 7 7 LORD THURLOW'S REPLY TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. The Duke had (in the House of Lords) reproached Lord Thurlow with his plebian extraction, and his recent admission to the peerage. Lord Thurlow rose from the woolsack, and advanced slowly to the place from which the Chancellor addresses the house, then fixing his eye upon the Duke, spoke as follows. 7 My | Lords, 7 | 7 7 | I am a- | mazed, | 7 7 | yes my | Lords, 7 | I am a- | mazed at his | Grace's | 24 278 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. speech. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | noble | duke | cannot | look be- | fore him, | 7 be- | hind him, | 7 or on | either | side of him, | 7 with- | out 7 | seeing | some 7 | noble | peer, 7 | 7 who | owes his | seat 7 | 7 in this | house | 7 to his sue- | cessful ex- | ertions, | 7 in the pro- | fes- sion | 7 to | which 7 | I be- | long. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Does he not | feel 7 | that it is as | honorable | 7 to | owe it to | these, | 7 as to | being the | accident | 7 of an | ac- cident? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 To | all these | noble | Lords, 7 | 7 the | language of the [ noble | Duke 7 | is as | appli- cable | and as in- | suiting | 7 as it | is to my- | self. 7 7 7 | 7 7 | But I | do not | fear 7 | 7 to | meet it single | 7 and a- | lone. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | No- one | vene rates the | peerage | more than | I do. | 7 7 | But my Lords, 7 | 7 I | must 7 | say 7 | 7 that the | peerage 7 so- | licked | me, | 7 7 | 7 not | I | 7 the | peerage. 77|77| Nay 7 | more, | 7 7 | 7 I | can and | will 7 | say, 7 7 7 | that as a | peer of | parliament, | 7 7 | 7 as speaker | 7 of this | right | honorable | house, | 7 7 | 7 as | keeper of the | great 7 | seal, 7 | 7 7 | 7 as | guar- dian | 7 of his | majesty's | conscience, | 7 7 | 7 as | Lord | high | Chancellor of | England, | 7 7 | nay, 7 | even in | that | character | 7 a- | lone, | 7 in | which the | noble | duke 7 | 7 would | think it an af- | front 7 | 7 to be con- | sidered, | 7 but | which | character | none can de- | ny 7 | me, 7 | 7 7 | as a | MAN, 7 | 7 I | am at this | moment | as res- | pectable ; | 7 7 | 7 I | beg 7 | leave to | add, 7 | 7 as | much re- | spected, | 7 as the | proudest | peer 7 ) 7 I | now | look | down upon. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | EXERCISES. 279 TRIBUTE OF MR. BURKE TO THE ENTERPRISING SPIRIT OF THE NEW-ENGLAND COLONISTS. As to the | wealth, 7 | Mr. | Speaker, | which the | colonies | 7 have | drawn from the | sea | 7 by their fisheries, | 7 7 | you had | all | that | matter | fully opened | 7 at your | bar. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 You | surely thought | those acqui- | sitions | 7 of | value, | T 7 | for they | seemed | even to ex- | cite your | envy; | 7 7 7 and | yet 7 I 7 the | spirit | 7 by | which that | enter- prising em- | ployment | 7 has been | exercised, | 7 7 ought | rather, | 7 in | my o- | pinion, | 7 to have raised your es- | teem and | admi- | ration. | 7 7 | 7 7 7 And | pray, Sir, | what in the | world 7 | 7 is | equal to it ? | 7 7 | 7 7 j Pass | by the | other | parts, 7 | 7 and | look at the | manner | 7 in | which the | people of | New- | England | have of | late | carried | on | 7 the | whale | fishery. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Whilst we | follow them | 7 a- | mong the | tumb- ling | mountains of | ice, | 7 and be- | hold them | pen- etrating | 7 into the | deepest | frozen re- | cesses | 7 of | Hudson's | Bay, | 7 and | Davis's | Straights, | 7 7 whilst we are | looking for them | 7 be- | neath the arctic | circle, | 7 7 | 7 we | hear that they have | pier ced | 7 into the | opposite | region of | polar | cold, 7 7 7 | that they are | at the an- | tipodes, | 7 7 | and en- gaged | under the | frozen | serpent | 7 of the | south. 7 7 | 7 7 | Falkland | Island, | 7 which | seemed | too re- | mote 7 | 7 and ro- | mantic an | object | 7 for the grasp of | national am- | bition, | 7 7 | is but a | stage and 280 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. resting | place | 7 in the | progress | 7 of their vie- | to- rious | industry. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Nor is the | equi- | noctial | heat | more dis- | coura- ging to them, | 7 7 | than the ac- | cumulated | winter | 7 of | both the | poles. | 7 } | 7 7 | 7 We | know that | whilst | some of them | draw the | line | 7 and | strike the har- | poon | 7 on the | coast of | Africa, | 7 7 | others | run the | longitude, | 7 and pur- | sue their gi- | gantic | game | 7 a- | long the | coast of Bra- | zil. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | No | sea | 7 but | what is | vexed by their | fisheries. | 7 7 | 7 No | climate | 7 that | is not | witness to their | toils. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Neither the | perse- | ver- ance of | Holland, | 7 7 | nor the ac- | tivity of | France, 7 | 7 7 | nor the | dexterous | 7 and | firm sa- | gacity of | English | enter- | prise, 7 | ever | carried | this most | perilous | mode of | hardy | industry | 7 to the ex- | tent | 7 to | which it has been | pushed | 7 by this | recent | people ; | 7 7 | 7 a | people | who are | still, | as it were, | 7 7 | but in the | gristle, | 7 7 | 7 and | not yet | hardened | into the | bone of | manhood. | 7 7 | 77| When I con- | template | these | things, 7 | 7 7 | when I | know | that the | colonies | 7 in | general | owe | lit- tle or | nothing | 7 to | any | care of | ours, 7 | and that they | are not | squeezed | into this | happy | form | by the con- | straints of a | watchful | 7 and sus- | picious | government, | 7 7 | but that | mrough a | wise and | sal- utary | neglect | 7 a | generous | nature | has been | suffered | 7 to | take her | own | way to per- | fection ; | 7 7 | when I re- | fleet upon | these ef- | fects, | 7 7 | when 1 | see 7 | 7 how | profitable | they have | been to us, | 7 I | feel | all tlie | pride of | power | sink, | 7 7 EXERCISES. 281 | 7 and | all pre- | sumption | 7 in the | wisdom of | hu- man con- ! trivances | melt, | 7 and | die a- | way | 7 with- | in me. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | rigor re- | lents. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | pardon | something | 7 to the | spirit of | liberty. | 7 7 | 7 7 | APOSTROPHE TO THE QUEEN OF FRANCE. Burke. 7 It is | now, 7 | sixteen or | seventeen | years 7 | since I | saw the | Queen of | France, 7 | then the | Dauphi- ness, | 7 at Ver- | sailles : 7 | 7 7 | 7 and | surely | never | lighted on this | orb, 7 | 7 which she | hardly | seemed to | touch, 7 | 7 a | more de- | lightful | vision. | 7 7 | 77 | 7 1 1 saw her | just a- | hove the ho- rizon, | 7 7-| deco- rating and | cheering | 7 the | elevated | sphere 7 she | just be- | gan to | move in : | 7 7 glittering, | 7 like the | morning | star ; | 7 7 | full of | life, 7 | 7 and | splendor, | 7 and | joy. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Oh ! | what a | revo- | lution ! | 7 7 | 7 and what a | heart 7 j must 1 1 have, | 7 to | contemplate | 7 with- | out e- | motion, | that | ele- | vation | 7 and | that 7 | fall. 7 | 77| 77 | Little | did I | dream | 7 that | when she | added | titles of | vene- | ration | 7to | those of en- | thusi- | as- tic, | distant, | 7 re- | spectful | love, 7 | 7 7 | that she should | ever be o- | bliged | 7 to J carry j 7 the | sharp | antidote a- | gainst dis- | grace 7 | 7 con- | cealed in | that | bosom ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | little did I | dream 7 | that I 24* 282 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. should have | lived to } see 7 | such dis- | asters | fallen up- | on her | 7 in a | nation of | gallant | men ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 in a | nation of | men of | honor | 7 and of | cava- | Hers. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | thought | ten ] thousand | swords 7 | must have | leaped from their | scabbards, | 7 7 | 7 to a- | venge | even a | look 7 | 7 that | threat- ened | her with | insult. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But the | age of ) chivalry | 7 is | gone. | 7 7 | That of | sophisters, | 7 e- | conomists and | calculators, | 7 has sue- | ceeded ; | 7 7 | 7 and the | glory of | Europe | 7 is ex- | tinguish- ed for | ever. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Never | ? 7 | never | more, 7 | shall we be- | hold 7 | that | generous | loyalty | 7 to | rank and | sex, 7 | 7 7 | 7 that | proud sub- | mis- sion, | 7 7 | 7 that | dignified o- | bedience, | 7 7 | 7 that sub- | ordi- | nation of the | heart, 7 | 7 7 | 7 which | kept a- | live, 7 | even in | servitude it- | self, 7 | 7 the | spirit | 7 of an ex- | alted | freedom. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | unbought | grace of | life, 7 | 7 the | cheap de- | fence of | nations, | 7 7 | 7 the | nurse of | manly | sentiment | 7 and he- | roic | enterprize | 7 is | gone ! 7 | 7 7 | 7 It is | gone, 7 | that | sensi- | bility of | prin- ciple, | 7 7 | 7 that | chastity of | honor, | 7 7 | 7 which | felt a | stain 7 | like a | wound, 7 | 7 7 | which in- | spired | courage | 7 whilst it | mitigated fe- | rocity, | 7 7 | which en- | nobled | 7 what- | ever it | touched ; | 7 7 | 7 and | under | which 7 | vice it- | self | lost | half its | evil, | 7 by | losing | all its | grossness. | 7 7 | 77| EXERCISES. 283 ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCH YARD. Gray. Reprinted according to the original copy. 7 The | curfew | tolls, | 7 7 | 7 the | knell of | parting | day, 7 | 7 The | lowing | herd | wind | slowly | 7 o'er the | lea; 7 | 77 | 7 The | ploughman | homeward | plods his | weary | way, 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | leaves the | world 7 | 7 to | darkness | 7 and to | me. 7 | 77 | 77 | Now | fades the | glimmering | landscape | 7 on the | sight, 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | all the | air | 7 a | solemn | stillness | holds 7 | Save 1 7 where the | beetle | wheels his | droning | flight 7 | 7 And | drowsy | tinklings | lull the | distant | folds. 7 | 77|77 | Save that | 7 from | yonder | ivy | mantled | tower | 7 The | moping | owl 7 | does to the | moon com- | plain | 7 Of | stfch as | wandering | near her | secret | bower | 7 Mo- | lest her | ancient | 7 7 | solitary | reign. I 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Be- | neath | those | rugged | elms, | 7 that | yew tree's I shade 7 | 7 Where | heaves the | turf in | many a | mouldering | heap 7 | Each in his | narrow ( cell 7 | 7 for | ever | laid 7 | 284 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 The ! rude | fore- | fathers of the | hamlet j sleep. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | breezy | call of | incense | breathing | morn, 7 | 7 The | swallow | twittering | 7 from the straw-built | shed, 7 | 7 The | cock's shrill | clarion, 1 7 or the | echoing | horn 7 | 7 No | more shall | rouse them | 7 from their | lowly | bed. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 For | them 7 | no | more 7 | 7 the | blazing | hearth shall | burn 7 | 7 Nor | busy | housewife | ply her | evening | care ; 7 | 7 7 | No | children | run | 7 to | h'sp their | sire's re- | turn 7 | 7 7 | 7 Or | climb his | knees, 7 | 7 the | envy'd | kiss to | share. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Oft did the | harvest | 7 to their | sickle | yield, 7 | 7 7 | 7 Their | furrow | oft | 7 the | stubborn | glebe | 7 has | broke ; | 7 7 | How | jocund | 7 did they | drive their | team a- | field, 7 | 7 7 | How | bowed the | woods 7 | 7 7 | 7 be- | neath their | sturdy | stroke. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Let not Am- | bition | 7 7 | mock their | useful | toil, 7 | 7 Their | homely |joys, 7 | 7 and | destiny ob- |%cure, 7 | 7 Nor | Grandeur | hear 7 | with a dis- | dainful | smile 7 | 7 The | short and | simple | annals | 7 of the | poor. | 77|77| 7 The | boast of | heraldry, | 7 the | pomp of | power, | EXERCISES. 285 7 And | all that | beauty, | 7 7 | all that | wealth, 7 | e'er | gave, | 7 A- | wait, a- | like, 7 | 7 the in- | evitable | hour ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | paths of | glory | 7 7 | lead 7 | but to the grave. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Nor | you, I 7 ye | Proud ! 7 | 7 im- | pute to | these the | fault, 7 | 7 If | memory | 7 o'er their | tomb 7 | no | trophies | raise 7 | 7 7 | Where thro' the | long-drawn | aisle 7 | 7 and | fretted | vault, 7 | 7 The | pealing | anthem | swells the | note of | praise. 7 | Can storied | urn, 7 | 7 or | animated | bust 7 | Back to its | mansion, | 7 7 | call the | fleeted | breath ? 7 | 7 7 | 7 Can | honor's | voice | 7 pro- | voke the | silent | dust? 7 | 7 Or | flattery | soothe 7 | 7 the | dull | cold | ear of | death. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Per- | haps 7 | 7 in | this neg- | lected j spot, 7 | 7 is I laid, 7 | Some | heart | once [ pregnant | 7 with ce- | lestial | fire; | 7 7| Hands 7 | 7 that the | rod of | empire | 7 might have | sway'd, 7 | 7 Or | waked to | ecstacy | 7 the | living | lyre. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | knowledge | 7 to | their | eyes, 7 | 7 her | am- ple | page, | Rich with the | spoils of | Time, 7 | 7 did j ne'er un- | roll; 7| 7 7|7 7 | Chill | Penury | 7 re- | press'd their | noble | rage, 7 | 286 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 And [ froze the | genial | current | 7 of the | soul. | 77|77| Full 7 | many a | gem of | purest | ray se- | rene, 7 | 7 The | dark | 7 un- | fathom'd | caves of | ocean | bear ; 7 | Full | many a | flower | 7 is | born | 7 to | blush un- | seen, 7 | 7 And | waste its | sweetness | 7 on the | desert | air. 7 1 77|77| Some | village | Hampden, | 7 that with | dauntless | breast, 7 | 7 The | little | tyrant of his | fields | 7 with- | stood ; 7 | Some | mute in- 1 glorious | Milton | here may | rest, 7 | Some | Cromwell, | 7 7 | guiltless of his | country's | blood. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The ap- | plause of | listening | senates | 7 to com- | mand ; 7 | 7 7 The | threats of | pain and | ruin | 7 to des- | pise ;7 | 77 | 7 To | scatter | plenty | 7 o'er a | smiling | land, 7 | 7 And | read their | history | 7 in a | nation's | eyes; 7 | Their | lot for- | bade : 7 | 7 nor | circum- | scribed a- | lone 7 | 7 Their | growing | virtues, | 7 but their | crimes con- | fined ; 7 | 7 For- 1 bade to | wade thro' | slaughter | 7 to a | throne, 7 | 7 And | shut the | gates of | mercy | 7 on man- | kind ; 7 | 7 The | struggling | pangs of | conscious j Truth to | hide; 7 | 7 To quench the | blushes | 7 of in- | genuous | shame; | EXERCISES. 287 7 Or | heap the | shrine of | luxury | 7 and pride 7 | 7 With | incense | 77 | kindled at the | Muse's | flame. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Yet | even | these 7 | bones 7 | 7 from | insult | 7 to pro- | tect, 7 | 7 Some | frail me- | morial | still, e- | reeled | nigh, 7 | 7 With | un- | couth 7 | rhymes, 7 | 7 and | shapeless | sculpture | deck'd, 7 | 7 Im- | plores the | passing | tribute | 7 of a | sigh. 7 | 77 | 7 7 | 7 Their | names, 7 | 7 their | years, 7 | spelt by the un- | letter'd | Muse, | 7 7 | 7 The | place of | fame and | elegy | 7 sup- | ply : 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | many a | holy | text 7 | 7 a- | round she strews 7 | 7 That | teach the | rustic | moralist | 7 to | die. 7 | 7 7 1 7 7 | 7 For | who 7 | 7 to | dumb for- | getfulness a | prey, 7 | 7 This | pleasing | anxious | being | e'er re- | signed, 7 | Left the | warm | precincts | 7 of the | cheerful | day, 7 | 7 7 | 7 Nor | cast 7 | one | longing | lingering | look be- | hind. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | On | some | fond | breast 7 | 7 the | parting | soul re- | lies, 7 j 7 7 | Some | pious | drops 7 | 7 the | closing | eye re- 1 quires, 7 | 7 7 | Even from the | tomb, 7 | 7 the | voice of | Na- ture I cries ; 7 | 7 7 | Even in our | ashes, | 7 7 | live their | wonted | fires. 7 | 77 |77| 288 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 For| thee 7 | 7 who | mindful | 7 of the un- | honor'd | dead ; 7 | Dost in these | lines, 7 | 7 their | artless | tale re- | late, 7 1 7 By | chance and | lonely | contem- | plation | led, 7 | 7 To | wander | 7 in the I gloomy | walks of | fate ; 7 | Hark ! 7 | 7 7 | how the | sacred | calm | 7 that | breathes a- | round, 7 | Bids | every | fierce tu- | multuous | passion | cease ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 In | still | small | accents | whispering | 7 from the | ground, | 7 A | grateful | earnest | 7 of e- 1 ternal | peace. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 No | more with | Nature and thy- 1 self 7 1 7 at | strife, 7 | 7 Give | anxious | cares and | endless | wishes | room, 7 1 But thro' the | cool se- 1 quester'd | vale of | life, 7 | 7 Pur- | sue the | noiseless | tenor | 7 of thy | doom. |77|77| ON HAPPINESS OF TEMPER. Goldsmith. Writers | 7 of | every | age | 7 have en- | deavored to | show I 7 that | pleasure | 7 is in | us, | 7 and | not in the | objects | 7 7 | offered | 7 for our a- | musement. | 7 7 | 77 | If the | soul be | happily dis- | posed, | 7 7 | every thing | 7 be- | comes | capable | 7 of af- | fording | enter- | tainment; | 7 7 | 7 and dis- | tress | 7 will | almost | want a | name. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Every oc- | cur- rence | 7 7 | passes in re- | view | 7 like the | figures | 7 of apro- | cession; | 7 7 | some | 7 may be | awkward, | EXERCISES. 289 7 7 I others | ill | dressed ; | 7 but | none but a | fool | 7 is for | this, | 7 en- | raged with the | master of the | ceremonies. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I re- | member | 7 to have | once | seen a | slave, | 7 in a | fortifi- | cation | 7 in | Flanders, | 7 who ap- | peared | no way | touched | 7 with his | situ- | ation. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He was | maimed, | 7 de- | formed | 7 and | chained : | 7 7 | 7 o- | bliged to | toil | 7 from the ap- | pearance of | day | 7 till | nightfall, | 7 7 | 7 and con- | demned to | this | 7 for | life ; | 7 7 | yet with | all | these | circumstances | 7 of ap- | parent | wretch- edness, | 7 he | sung, I 7 7 | would have | danced, | 7 7 | but that he | wanted a | leg, | 7 and ap- | peared the | merriest, | happiest | man | 7 of | all the | garrison. | 77 | 7 7 | 7 What a | practical I 7 phi- | losopher | 7 was | here, 7 7 | 7 a | happy consti- | tution | 7 sup- | plied phi- | losophy ; | 7 and though | seemingly | destitute of | wis- dom, | 7 he was | really | wise. | 7 7 | 7 7 | No | read- ing | 7 or | study | 7 had con- | tributed | 7 to disen- | chant | 7 the | fairy | land | 7 a- | round him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Every thing | furnished him | 7 with an | oppor- | tunity of | mirth, | 7 7 | 7 and though | some | thought him, | 7 from his | insensi- | bility, | 7 a | fool, | 7 he was | such an | ideot | 7 as phi- | losophers | 7 should | wish to | imitate : | 7 7 | 7 for | all phi- | losophy | 7 is | only | forcing the | trade of | happiness, | 7 when | Na- tute | seems to de- | ny the | means. | 7 7 | 7 7 | They, | 7 who | like our | slave, | 7 can | place them- selves | 7 on | that | side of the | world | 7 in | which | every thing | 7 ap- | pears in a | pleasing | light, | 7 will | find | something | 7 in | every oc- | currence | 7 to 25 290 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. ex- I cite their | good | honor. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | most ca- | lamitous e- | vents, | 7 7 | either to them- | selves | 7 or | others, | 7 can | bring | no | new af- j fliction ; | 7 7 | 7 the | whole | world | 7 is to | them, j 7 a | theatre, | 7 on which | comedies | only | 7 are | acted. | 7 7 | 7 7 | All the | bustle of | heroism, | 7 or the | rants of am- | bition, | 7 7 | serve | only to | heighten | 7 the ab- | surdity | 7 of the | scene, | 7 and | make the | humor | 7 more | poignant. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 They | feel, | 7 in | short, | 7 as | little | an- guish | 7 at their | own dis- | tress, | 7 or the com- | plaints of | others, | 7 as the | under- | taker, | 7 though | dressed in | black, | feels | sorrow | 7 at a | funeral. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Of | all the | men | 7 I | ever | read of, | 7 the | famous | Cardinal de | Retz | 7 pos- | sessed this | happiness of | temper | 7 in the | highest de- | gree. | 7 7 | 7 7 | As he was a | man of | gallantry, | 7 and des- | pised | 7 all that | wore the pe- | dantic ap- | pearance | 7 of phi- | losophy, | 7 where- | ever | pleasure | 7 was to be | sold | he was | generally | foremost | 7 to | raise the | auction. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Be- ing a | uni- | versal | 7 ad- | mirer of the | fair | sex, | 7 7 | when he | found | one | lady | cruel, | 7 he | generally | fell in | love | 7 with an- | other, | 7 from | whom he ex- | pected | 7 a more | favourable | 7 re- | ception. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 If | she, | too, | 7 re- | jec- ted his ad- | dresses, | 7 7 | 7 he | never | thought of re- | tiring into | deserts, | 7 or | pining in | hopeless dis- | tress ; | 7 7 | he per- | suaded himself, | 7 that in- [ stead of | loving the | lady, j 7 he had | only | EXERCISES. 291 fancied | 7 that he had | loved her ; | 7 7 | 7 and | so, | all was | well again. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 When | fortune | wore her | angriest | look, | 7 7 | and | he at | last | fell into the | power | 7 of his most | deadly | enemy, | 7 7 | Cardinal | Maza- | rine, | 7 7 | (being con- | fined a | close | prisoner, | 7 in the | castle of | Valen- | ciennes,) | 7 he | never at- | tempted | 7 to sup- | port his dis- | tress | 7 by | wis- dom | 7 or phi- | losophy ; | 77 | for he pre- | tend- ed to | neither. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | only | laughed | 7 at him- | self | 7 and his | persecutor ; | 7 7 | 7 and | seemed | infinitely | pleased | 7 at his | new situ- | ation. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In | this | mansion of dis- | tress, | 7 7 | though se- | eluded from his | friends, | 7 7 | 7 though de- | nied | all the a- | musements, | 7 and | even the con- | veniences of | life, | 7 he | still re- | tained his | good | humour : | 7 7 | laughed at | all the | little | spite of his | enemies : | 7 7 | 7 and j carried the | jest | so [ far | as to be re- | venged, | 7 by | writing the | life | 7 of his | goaler. | 7 7 | 7 7 | All that the | wisdom of the | proud | 7 can | teach, | is to be | stubborn | 7 or | sullen, | under mis- | for- tunes. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | Cardinal's ex- | ample | 7 will in- | struct us to be | merry, | 7 in | circumstances | 7 of the | highest af- | fliction. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 It | mat- ters not | whether our | good | humor | 7 be | con- strued | 7 by | others, | 7 into | insensi- | bility ; | 7 or | even | idiotism : | 7 7 | 7 it is | happiness | 7 to our- | selves; | 7 7 | 7 and | none but a | fool, | 7 would | measure his | satis- | faction | 7 by | what the | world | thinks of it. | 77 | 77 | 7 The | happiest | silly | fellow | 7 I | ever | knew, | 292 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. was of the | number of those | good natured | creatures | that are | said to | do no | harm | 7 to | any but them- | selves. | 7 7 | 7 ? | 7 When- | ever he | fell into | any | misery, | 7 7 | 7 he | usually | called it | 7 7 | " See- ing | life." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 If his | head was | broke by a | chairman, | 7 or his | pocket | picked by a | shar- per, | 7 he | comforted himself | 7. by | imitating | 7 the Hi- | bernian | dialect | 7 of the | one, | or the more | fashionable | cant | 7 of the | other. | 7 7 | 7 7 | No- thing | came a- | miss to him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 His | inat- | tention to | money matters | 7 in- | censed his | father | 7 to | such a de- | gree, | 7 that | all inter- | cession of | friends, | 7 in his | favor, | 7 was | fruitless. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | old | gentleman | was on his | death bed. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | whole | family, | 7 and | Dick | 7 a- | mong the | number, | 7 7 | gathered a- | round him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 " I | leave my | second | son | Andrew," \ said the ex- | piring | miser, | 7 " ray | whole es- | tate ; | 7 7 | 7 and de- | sire him | 7 to be | frugal." | 7 7 | 7 7 | Andrew, | 7 in a | sorrowful | tone, | 7 (as is | usual | 7 on | those oc- | casions,) | 7 7 | prayed | Heaven j 7 to pro- | long his | life and | health | 7 to en- | joy it him- | self! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 " 1 1 recom- 1 mend | Simon, | 7 my | third | son, j 7 to the | care of his | elder | brother ; | 7 7 | 7 and | leave him | 7 be- | side, | four | thousand | pounds." " All ! | father, " | 7 cried | Simon, | 7 (in | great af- | fliction, | 7 to be | sure, ) | 7 " may | Heaven | give you j life and | health | 7 to en- | joy it your- | self!" | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 At | last | turning to | poor | Dick, | 7 7 | as for | EXERCISES. 293 you, | you have | always | 7 been a | sad | dog ; | 7.7 | you'll | never | come to j good ; | 7 7 | you'll | never be j rich ; | 7 7 | 7 I leave | you | 7 a | shilling, | 7 to | buy a | halter." | 7 7 | 7 7 | " Ah ! | father," | 7 cries | Dick, | 7 without | any e- | motion, | 7 " may | Heaven | give you | life and | health | 7 to en- I joy it your- | self!" | 7 7 | 7 7 | Mrs. Barbauld. 7 'Tis | past ; 7 | 7 the | sultry | tyrant of the | south 7 | 7 Has | spent his | short-lived | rage. 7 | 77 | 7 More | grateful | hours Move | silent | on. 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | skies no | more re- | pel 7 | 7 The | dazzled | sight; 7 | 7 7 | But with | mild | maiden | beams 7 | 7 Of | temper'd | light, 7 | 7 in- | vite the | cherish'd | eye 7 | 7 To | wander o'er their | sphere ; 7 | where 7 | hung a- | loft, 7 | Dian's | bright | crescent, | like a | silver | bow 7 | New | strung in | heaven, | lifts | high | 7 its | beamy | horns, 7 | 7 Im- | patient for the | night, 7 | 7 and | seems to | push 7 | 25* 294 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 Her | brother | down the ] sky. 7 | 7 7 | Fair | Venus | shines 7 \ Even in the | eye of | day ; 7 | 7 with | sweetest | beam 7 j 7 Pro- | pitious | shines, and | shakes a | trembling | flood? | 7 Of [ soften'd | radience | 7 from her | dewy | locks. | 7 7 | 7 7 I 7 The | shadows | spread a j pace ; 7 j 7 7 j 7 while | meeken'd | eve, 7 | 7 Her | cheek yet | warm with | blushes, | slow re- | tires | Tlirough the Hes- | perian | gardens of the | west, 7 | 7 And | shuts the | gates of | day. 7 | 7 7 | 7 'Tis | now the | hour 7 | 7 When | contem- | plation | 7 (from her | sunless | haunts, | 7 The | cool | damp | grotto, | f 7 | 7 or the | lonely | depth 7 | 7 Of | unpierced | woods, 7 | where, 7 | wrapt in | si- lent | shade, | 7 7 | 7 She | mused a- | way the | gaudy | hours of | noon, 7 | 7 And | fed on | thoughts | un- | ripen'd by the | sun,) 7 | Moves | forward ; | 7 and with | radiant | finger | points 7 | 7 To | yon | blue | concave, | swell'd by | breath di- | vine : | 7 7 | Where, 7 | one by | one, the | living | eyes of | heaven I EXERCISES. 29$ 7 A- I wake, | 7 7 | quick | kindling | 7 o'er the | face of | ether | One | boundless | blaze ; | 7 7 | ten | thousand | tremb- ling | fires, 7 | 7 And | dancing | lustres, | where the un- | steady | eye, 7 I Restless | 7 and | dazzled, | wanders | uncon- | fined 7 | 7 O'er | all this | field of | glories : | spacious | field, 7 | 7 And | worthy of the | Master! | he | 7 whose | hand, 7 | 7 With | hiero- | glyphics | 7 7 | elder than the | Nile, 7 | 7 In- | scribed the | mystic | tablet, | hung on | high 7 | 7 To | public | gaze; | 7 and | said, 7 | 7 A- | dore O | man, 7 | 7 The | finger of thy | God ! 7 | 7 7 | 7 From | what | pure | wells | 7 Of | milky | light, 7 | What | soft | 7 o'er- | flowing | urn, 7 | 7 Are | all these | lamps | so | fill'd ? 7 | these | friendly | lamps, 7 | 7 For- | ever | streaming | o'er the | azure | deep, | 7 To | point our | path, 7 | 7 and | light us to our | home. 7 | 77 | 7^7 | 7 How | soft they | slide a- | long their | lucid | spheres! | 7 And | silent as the | foot of | time, 7 | 7 ful- | fil 7 | 7 Their | destin'd | courses. | 7 7 | Nature's | self | 7 is | hush'd | And 7 | (but a | scatter'd | leaf which | rustles | through 7 | 7 The | thick-wove | foliage,) | not a | sound | is | heard 7 I 296 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, 7 To | break the | midnight | air : 7 | though the raised | ear, 7 | 7 In- | tensely | listening, | drinks in | every | breath. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | How | deep the | silence, | yet how | loud the | praise ! | 77|77| 7 But | are they | silent | all ? 7 | 7 or | is there not | 7 A | tongue in | every | star 7 | 7 that | talks with man, 7 | 7 And | woos him to be | wise ? 7 | 7 nor | woos in | vain : 7|77|77| 7 This | dead of | midnight j 7 is the | noon of | thought, 7 | 7 And | wisdom | mounts her | zenith | 7 with the | stars. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 At | this | still | hour | 7 the | self-col- | lected | soul 7 | Turns | inward, | 7 and be- | holds a | stranger | there 7 | 7 Of | high de- | scent, 7 | 7 and | more than | mortal | rank ; | 7 7 | 7 An | embryo | God ; 7 | 7 a | spark of | fire di- | vine, 7 | Which must | burn | on for | ages, | 7 when the | sun 7 | (Fair | transitory | creature of a | day ?) 7 | 7 Has | closed his | wonted | journey | tlirough the | east. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Ye | citadels of | light, 7 | 7 and | seats of | bliss! 7 | 7 Per- | haps my | future | home, 7 | 7 from | whence | 7 the | soul, 7 | EXERCISES. 297 Re- | volving | periods | past, | 7 may | oft | look | back, 7 | With | recol- | lected | tenderness, | 7 on | all | The | various | busy | scenes she | left be- | low, 7 | 7 Its | deep-laid | projects, | 7 and its | strange e- | vents, 7 | As on some | fond and | doting | tale | 7 that sooth'd | 7 Her | infant | hours. 7 | 7 7 | O | be it | lawful | now 7| 7 To | tread the | hallow'd | circle 1 7 of your | courts, 7 | And | 7 (with | mute | wonder | and de- | lighted | awe,) 7 I 7 Ap- | proach your | burning | confines ! | Seized in | thought, | 7 On | fancy's | wild and | roving | wing I | sail, 7 | 7 From the | green | borders | 7 of the | peopled | earth, 7 | 7 And the | pale | moon 7 | 7 her | duteous | fair at- | tendant; | 7 7 | 7 From | solitary | Mars ; | 7 from the | vast | orb | 7 Of | Jupiter, | whose | huge gi- | gantic | bulk 7 | Dances in | ether | like tlie | lightest | leaf; 7 | 7 7 | 7 To the | dim | verge, | 7 the | suburbs of the | sys- tem, | 7 Where | cheerless | Saturn, | midst his | watery | moons, 7 | Girt with a | lurid | zone, 7 | 7 in | gloomy | pomp, 7 | Sits like an | exiled | monarch. | 7 7 1 Fearless | thence 7 | 7 I | launch | into the | trackless | deeps of | space, 7 | Where 7 | burning | round, 7 | ten | thousand | suns | 7 ap- | pear 7 \ 7 Of | elder ! beam | 7 which | ask*| no | leave to | shine. | 7 Of | our ter- | restrial | star 7 | 7 7 | nor i borrow | light | 298 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 From the | proud | regent | 7 of | our | scanty | day : 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 1 Sons of the [ morning, | first born | 7 of ere- 1 ation, | 7 And | only | less than | He who | marks their | track, 7 | 7 And | guides their | fiery | wheels. | 7 7 | Here | must I | stop, 7 | Or is there | ought be- | yond ? 7 | 7 What | hand un- | seen 7 | 7 Im- | pels me | onward, | 7 through the | glowing | orbs 7 | 7 Of | habitable | nature | 7 7 | far re- | mote, 7 | 7 To the | dread | confines | 7 of e- | ternal | night, 7 | 7 To | solitudes | 7 of | vast un- | peopled | space, 7 | 7 The | deserts of ere- | ation, | wide | 7 and | wild, 7 | 7 Where | embryo j systems | 7 and un- | kindled | suns 7 | Sleep in the | womb of | chaos ? | 7 7 | Fancy | droops, | 7 And | Thought | 7 as- | tonished | stops her | bold ca- | reer. 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | oh thou | mighty | Mind ! | 7 7 | 7 whose | pow- erful | word 7 | Said 7 | Thus let | all things | be | 7 and | thus they | were, | 7 7 | Where shall I | seek thy | presence ? | 7 7 | how un- | blamed 7 In- | voke thy | dread per- | fection. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Have die broad | eyelids of the | morn be- | held thee ? | 7 7 | Or does the | beamy | shoulder of O- | rion | 7 Sup- | port thy | throne ? | 7 7 | O | look with | pity | down 7 | 7 On | erring | guilty | Man ! 7 | not in thy | names 7 | EXERCISES. 299 7 Of I terror | clad ; 7 | not with those | thunders | arm'd 7 | 7 That | conscious | Sinai | felt when | fear ap- | palTd 7 | 7 The | scatter'd | tribes : 7 | thou hast a | gender | voice, 7 | 7 That | whispers | comfort | 7 to the | swelling | heart, 7 | 7 A- | bash'd 7 | 7 yet | longing to be- | hold her | Ma- ker. | 7' 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | now | 7 my | soul 7 | un- | used 'to | stretch her | powers 7 | 7 In | flight so | daring | drops her | weary | wing, 7 | 7 And | seeks a- | gain the | known ac- | custom' d | spot, 7 | Dpest up with | sun and | shade 7 | 7 and | lawns, and | streams ; 7 | 7 A | mansion | fair and | spacious | 7 for its | guest 7 | 7 And | full re- | plete with | wonders. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Let me | here | 7 Con- | tent and | grateful f wait the ap- | pointed | time | 7 And | ripen for the | skies 7 | 7 the | hour will | come | 7 When | all these | splendors, | bursting | on my j sight 7 | 7 Shah* | stand un- | veil'd, | and to my | ravish' d | sense 7 | 7 Un- | lock the | glories | of the | world un- | known. 7 |77i77| 300 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. SPEECH OF MR. PLUNKET, On the competency of the Irish Parliament to pass the Measure of Union. Sir, 7 | I in the | most ex- | press 7 | terms 7 | 7 de- | ny the | competency | 7 of | parliament | 7 to | do this | act. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | warn you | 7 7 | do not | dare | 7 to | lay your | hand | 7 on the | consti- | tution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | tell you, | 7 that | if 7 | circumstanced as you | are 7 | 7 you | pass this | act, 7 | it will be a J nullity, | 7 and that | no | man in | Ireland | 7 will be | bound to o- | bey it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | make the as- | sertion | 7 de- | liberately, | 7 7 | 7 I re- 1 peat it, | 7 and | call on | any | man who | hears me, | 7 to | take | down my | words ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 you | have not been e- | lected for | this 7 | pur- pose, | 7 7 | you are ap- | pointed | 7 to | make | laws, 7 | not 7 | legis- | latures ; [ 7 7 | you are ap- | pointed to j exercise | 7 the | functions of | legis- | lators, | 7 and | not to trans- | fer them ; | 7 7 | 7 and | if you | do so | 7 your | act 7 | 7 is a | disso- | lution | 7 of the | govern- | inent ; | 7 7 | you re- | solve so- | ciety | into its o- | rigi- nal | elements, | 7 and | no man j 7 in the | land | 7 is | bound to o- | bey you. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Sir, 7 | 7 I | state | doctrines | which are | not 7 | merely | founded | 7 in the im- | mutable | laws | 7 of | justice and of | truth; | 7 7 | 7 1 1 state | not 7 | merely the o- | pinions |7 of the | ablest | men | 7 who have | written on the | science of | govern- | ment ; 7 | 7 7 | but 1 | state the | practice | 7 of our consli- tution 7 as settled at the a?ra of the EXERCISES. 301 revo- | lution, | 7 but I ] state the | doctrine | under | which 7 | 7 the | house of | Hanover | 7 de- | rives its | title | 7 to the | throne. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Has the | king 7 | 7 a j right to trans- | fer his | crown ? | 7 7 | Is he | competent | 7 to an- | nex it to the | crown of | Spain, | 7 or of | any | other | country ? | 7 7 | No, | 7 7 | but he may | abdi- cate it ; | 7 and | every | man 7 | 7 who | knows the | consti- | tution, | knows the | conse- | quence, | 7 7 | 7 the | right re- | verts to the | next in sue- | cession ; | 7 7 | If they | all | abdicate, | 7 it re- | verts to the | people. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | man who | questions | this 7 | doc- trine, | 7 in the | same | breath, | 7 7 | must ar- | raign the | sovereign on the | throne | 7 as a u- | surper. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Are you | competent | 7 to trans- | fer your | le- gislative | rights 7 | 7 to the | French | council of | five | hundred ? | 7 7 | Are you | competent | 7 to trans- | fer them to the | British | parliament ? | 7 7 | 7 I | an- swer, | No. | 7 7 | 7 7 | When you trans- | fer 7 | 7 you | abdicate, | 7 and the | great | 7 o- | riginal | trust 7 | 7 re- | verts to the | people | 7 from | whom it | is- sued. | 7 7 | 7 Your- | selves | 7 you | may ex- | tin- guish, | 7 7 | 7 but | parliament | 7 you | cannot ex- | tinguish ; | 7 7 | it is en- | throned in the | hearts of the | people ; | 7 7 | it is en- | shrined | 7 in the | sanctuary | 7 of the | consti- | tution ; | 7 7 | it is im | mortal | 7 as the | island | 7 which it pro- | tects ; | 7 7)7 as | well | 7 might the | frantic | suicide | 7 7 | hope that the | act 7 | 7 which de- | stroys his | miserable | body, | 7 7 | should ex- | tinguish | 7 his e- | ternal | soul. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 A- | gain I | therefore | warn you, | 7 7 | do not | dare to | lay your | hands | 7 on the | consti- | tution ; | 7 7 | it is a- | bove your | power. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 26 302 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Sir, 7 I 7 I I do not | say 7 | that the | parliament and the | people | 7 by | mutual con- | sent and | co-ope- | ra- tion, ! 7 7 | may not | change the | form of the | consti- | tution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 When- j ever | such a | case a- | ri- ses, | 7 7 | 7 it | must be de- | cided | on its | own | mer- its : | 7 7 | 7 but | that is not | this | case. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 If , government | 7 con- | siders | this a | season | 7 pe- culiarly | fitted | 7 for ex- | periments | 7 on the | consti- | tution, | 7 7 | they may | call on the | people. | 77 | 7 7 | 7 I | ask you, | 7 7 | are you | ready to | do so ? | 7 7 | Are you | ready to a- | bide the e- | vent of | such an ap- | peal? 7 | 7 7|7 7 | What 7 | is it | you must | 7 in | that e- | vent, 7 | 7 sub- | mit to the ! people ? | 7 7 | Not 7 | this par- | ticular | project, | 7 7 | for if you dis- | solve the | present I form of | government, | 7 7 | they be- | come 7 | free to | choose | anf \ other ; | 7 7 | 7 you | fling tlicm to the | fury of the | tempest, | 7 7 | you must \ call on them | 7 to un- ! house them- | selves | 7 of the es- | tablished | consti- | tution, | 7 and to | fashion to them- I selves 7 | 7 an- | other. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | ask a- | gain, | 7 is | this the | time | 7 for an ex- | periment | 7 of | that 7 | nature? | 7 7 | 7 Thank | God 7 | 7 the | people have | mani- | fested | no such | wish ; | 7 7 so | far as | they have | spoken, | 7 7 1 their 7 | voice is de- | cidedly a- | gainst | 7 this | daring inno- | vation. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 You | know | 7 that | no | voice | 7 has been I uttered in its | favor, | 7 7 | and you | cannot be in- j fatuated e- | nough j 7 to take 7 | confidence | 7 from the | silence | 7 which pre- | vails in | some 7 | parts of the | kingdom, | 7 7 | 7 if you | know 1 how to ap- | preciate | 7 that | silence, 7 it is | more | formidable | than the | most | clamorous ] oppo- I sition; | 7 7 | you may be | rived and | shivered by the | EXERCISES. 303 lightning j 7 be- | fore you | hear the | peal of the | thun- der! | 7 7 | 7 7 | ButSir,| 7 we are | told 7 | 7 7 | that we should dis- | cuss this | question | 7 witli | calmness | 7 and com- | posure ! | 7 7 | I am | called on | 7 to sur- | render my | birth-right |7 and my| honor, |7 7 | and I am | told | I should be | calm, | 7 com- | posed ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | National | pride ! | 7 7 | Inde- | pendence of our | coun- try ! | 7 7 | These, 7 | 7 we are | told | 7 by the | minis- ter, | 7 are | only | vulgar | topics | 7 7 | fitted | for the me- | ridian | 7 of the j mob, | 7 but un- | wortliy | 7 to be | mentioned | 7 to | such an en- j lightened as- | sem- bly | 7 as | this. 7 | 7 7 | They are | trinkets and | gewgaws,| fit to | catch the | fancy of | childish | 7 and un- | thinking | people | 7 like | you, Sir, I 7 or | like your [ predecessor | 7 in | that | chair, | 7 7 | 7 but | ut- terly un- | worthy | 7 the con- | side- | ration | 7 of | this | house, | 7 7 | or of the ma- | tured | under- | standing | 7 of the | noble | lord 7 | 7 who | conde- | scends | 7 to in- | struct it! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Gracious | God ! 7 | 7 7 | 7 we | see a | Perry | re-as- | cending from the | tomb | 7 and | raising his | awful | voice 7 | 7 to | warn us | 7 a- | gainst the sur- | render of our j freedom, | 7 and we | see that the | proud and | virtuous | feelings | 7 which | warmed the | breast of that | aged | 7 and | venerable | man, | 7 are | only | calculated | 7 to ex- | cite the con- | tempt | 7 of this | young phi- | losopher, | 7 7 | who has been trans- planted | 7 from the | nursery | 7 to the | cabinet | 7 to | outrage the | feelings | 7 and j under- | standing | 7 of the | country. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 304 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. EXECUTION OF THE EARL OF ARGYLE. Fox's History of James II. 7 On the | thirtieth of | June, | 7 one | thousand | 7 six | hundred | 7 and | eighty | five, | 7 the | Earl of Ar- | gyle | 7 was | brought from the | castle, | 7 7 | first, | 7 to the | Laigh | council house, | 7 and | thence, | 7 to the | place of exe- | cution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Be- | fore he | left the | castle, | 7 he | had his | dinner j 7 at the | usual | hour, | 7 at | which lie dis- | coursed, | 7 7 | not only | calmly, | 7 but | even | cheerfully, | 7 | with | Mr. | Chateris | 7 and | others. | 7 7 | 77 | Af- ter | dinner | 7 he re- | tired, | 7 7 | (as was his | cus- tom,) | 7 to his | bed-chamber, 1 7 7 | where | 7 it is re- j corded, | 7 he | slept | quietly | 7 for a- | bout a | quar- ter of an | hour. | 7 7 | 7 7 | While he was in | bed, | one of the | members of the | council | came, | 7 and | intimated | 7 to the at- | tend ants, | 7 a de- | sire to | speak with him : | 7 7 | 7 upon | being | told | 7 that the | Earl | 7 was a- | -sleep, | 7 and had | left | orders | not to be dis- | turbed, | 7 the | manager | disbe- | lie- ved the ac- | count, | 7 7 | which he con- | sidered | 7 as a de- | vice | 7 to a- | void | further | question- ings. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 To | satisfy him, | 7 the | door of the | bed-cham- ber, | 7 was | half | opened, | and | then he be- | held, | 7 en- | joying a | sweet and | tranquil | slumber, | 7 the | man, | 7 7 I 7 who | 7 by the | doom of | him and his | fellows, | 7 was to | die | 7 7 | 7 with- | in the | short | space | 7 of | two | hours. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Struck with EXERCISES. 305 the sight, | 7 he | hurried | 7 out of the | room, | 7 7 | quitted the | castle | 7 with the | utmost pre- | cipi- | ta- tion, | 7 7 | 7 and | hid himself | 7 in the | lodgings of an ac- | quaintance | 7 who | lived | near, | 7 7 | 7 where he | tlirew himself | 7 upon the | first | bed that pre- | sented itself | 7 7 | and had | every ap- | pearance of a I man | suffering | 7 the | most ex- | cruciating | tor- ture. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 His | friend | 7 7 | 7 who was ap- | prised of the | state he was I in, | 7 and who | naturally con- | eluded he was | ill, | 7 7 | offered him | 7 some | wine | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He re- | fused, | saying, | " no, | no, | that | will not | help me. | 77 | 7 I have | been at Ar- | gyle's, | 7 and | saw him | sleeping | 7 as pleasantly as | ever | man | did | 7 with- | in | one | hour | 7 of E- | ternity, | 7 7 | 7 but | as for | me." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | name of the | person | 7 to | whom | this | anecdote re- | lates | 7 is | not | mentioned, | 7 7 | 7 and the | truth of it | 7 may | therefore | 7 be | fairly con- | sidered | 7 as | liable | 7 to | that de- | gree of | doubt, | 7 with | which | men of | judgment | 7 re- | ceive | every | species | 7 of tra- | ditional | history. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Woodrow, | 7 how- | ever, | 7 7 |whose ve- | racity | 7 is a- | bove sus- | picion, | 7 7 | says, | 7 he | had it | 7 from the | most un- | questionable | 7 au- | thority. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Itis| not in it- | self | 7 un- | likely 5 | T 7 | 7 and | who is there, | 7 that | would not | wish it true ? j 7 7 | 7 7 | What a | satis- factory | spectacle | 7 to a | philo- | sophical | mind, | 7 to | see the op- | pressor | 7 in the | zenith of his | power | 7 7 | envying his | victim ! | 77 | 7 7 | What an ac- | knowledgement | of the | supe- ri- | ority of | virtue I | 7 7 | 7 7 | What an af- | fecting | 7 and | forcible | testimony | 7 of the | value of that | 26* 306 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. peace of | mind, | 7 which | Innocence | 7 a- | lone | 7 can con- | fer! | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 We | know not | who | 7 this | man | was, | 7 7 | 7 but | when we re- | fleet | 7 that the | guilt | 7 which | agonized him, | 7 was | proba- bly | 7 in- | curred | 7 for some | vain | title, | 7 or at | least | 7 for some | increase of | wealth | 7 which he j did not | want, | 7 and | possibly | knew not | how to en- | joy, | 7 7 | 7 our dis- | gust | 7 is | turned into | something | like com- | passion, | 7 for that | very | fool- ish | class of | men, | whom the | world | calls I wise in their | gene- | ration. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Soon | after this | short re- | pose, | 7 Ar- | gyle | 7 was | brought | 7 ac- | cording to | order, | 7 to the | Laigh | council-house, | 7 from | which | place | 7 is | dated the | letter to h ; s | wife, | 7 7 | 7 and from | thence | 7 to the | place of exe- | cution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 On the | scaffold | 7 he had | some dis- | course, | 7 as | well with | Mr. | Annand, | 7 a | minister | 7 ap- | pointed by | Government | 7 to at- | tend him, | 7 7 | as with , Mr. | Chateris. | 7 7 | 7 7 | He de- | sired | both of them | 7 to | pray for him | 7 and | prayed him- | self | 7 with | much | fervor | 7 and de- | votion. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | speech which he | made to the | people | 7 was | such as | might be ex- | pected | 7 from the | passages al-| ready re- | lated. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | same | mixture of | firmness | 7 and | mildness | 7 is con- | spicuous in | every | part of it. 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 " We | ought not," | 7 said | he, | 7 " to des- | pise | our af- | flictions, | nor to | faint | under them. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 We | should not J suf- fer ourselves | 7 to be ex- | asperated | 7 a- | gainst the | instruments | 7 of our | troubles, | nor by | fraudulent | 7 or | pusil- | lanimous com- | pliance, | 7 7 | bring | guilt | upon our- | selves ; | 7 7 | faint | hearts ally | false | hearts, [choosing | sin, | rather th? ing." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | offers his | prayers | 7 for the | three | kingdoms of | England, Scotland, 7 and | Ire- land, | 7 7 i and that an | end | 7 may be | put | 7 to their | present trials. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Having | then | asked | par- don i 7 for his I own | faults, | both of | God and | man, | 7 he | would have con- | eluded, j 7 but | being re- | minded | 7 that he had | said | nothing | 7 of the | royal | family, | 7 he adds, | 7 that he re- | fers, I 7 in | this { matter, | 7 to | what he had | said | 7 at his | trial | 7 con- | cerning the | test ; | 7 7 | 7 that he | prayed j 7 there | never might be | wanting | one of the | royal | family | 7 to sup- | port the | Protestant re- | ligion ; | 7 7 | 7 and if j any of them | 7 had | swerved | from the | true | faith, ] 7 he | prayed | God | 7 to | turn their | hearts; | 7 7 | 7 but at | any rate | 7 to | save his | people | 7 from their ! machi- | nations. | 7 7 | 7 7 | When he had | ended, | 7 he | turned to the | south ) side of the | scaffold | 7 and | said, | 7 7 | " Gentlemen, | 7 I | pray you, | do not | miscon- | struct | my be- | havior | this | day. | 7 7 | 7 I | freely for- | give | all men | their | wrongs and | injuries | done a- | gainst | me, | 7 as | I de- | sire | to be for- | given of | God." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | then em- | braced his | friends, | 7 7 | gave some | tokens | 7 of his re- | membrance | 7 to his | son-in-law, | Lord | Maitland, | 7 for his ! daughter and | grand-children, | 7 7 | stript himself | 7 of | part of his ap- | parel, | 7 of | which he | likewise | made | presents, | 7 and | laid his | head | upon the j block. | 77|77| Having | uttered a | short | prayer, | 7 he | gave the | 303 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. signal i 7 to the | exe- | cutioner, | which was | instant- ly o- | beyed, | 7 and his | head | severed from his | body. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Such were the | last | hours | 7 and | such the | final close | 7 of this | great | man's | life. | 7 7 | 7 7 | May the | like | happy se- | renity. | 7 in such (dreadful | circumstances, | 7 and a | death | equally | glorious | 7 be the | lot of | all, | 7 whom | tyranny | 7 of what- | ever des- | cription | 7 or de- | nomi- | nation, | shall | 7 in | any | age, | 7 or in | any | country, | 7 7 | call to | expiate their | virtues 1 7 on the I scaffold ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | THOUGHTS IN A PLACE OF WORSHIP. Hannah More. 7 And | here we | come and | sit, 7 | time after | time, 1 \ 7 And | call it | social | worship; | 77 1 Is it | thus?7|77 | Oh 7 | Thou ! | 7 7 | 7 whose | searching | all per- | vading | eye 7 | Scans every | secret | movement of the | heart, 7 | 7 And | sees us | as we | are 7 | 7 7 | why 7 | mourns my | soul 7 | 7 On | these oc- 1 casions ? | Why so | dead and | cold 7 j 7 My | best af- | fections ? 1 1 have | found thee | oft 7 | In my | more | secret | seasons, | 7 in the | field, ] And in my | chamber : | 7 7 | even | 7 in the | stir 7 | 7 Of | outward | occu- | pations | 7 has my | mind 7 [ . EXERCISES. 309 7 Been | drawn to | thee, | 7 and | found thy | presence | life : | 7 7 | 7 But ! here | 7 I | seek in | vain | 7 and | rarely | find 7 | 7 Thy | ancient | promise | 7 to the | few that | wait 7 | 7 In | singleness up- | on thee, | 7 7 | reach to | us. | 771771 is 7 | 7 to | feel the | unity | menting | love 7 | gathering in | one 7 Most | sweet it 7 Of | soul ce- Flowing from | heart to | heart, | 7 and | like a | cloud | 7 Of I mingled | incense | 7 7 | rising to the thone | 7 Of | Love it- | self! I 7 7 | then 7 | much of | heaven is | felt 7 | 7 By | minds | drawn | thither- | ward, 7 | 7 and | close- ly | linked | In the ce- | lestial | union, | 7 7 | 'tis in | this | Sweet | element a- | lone, | 7 that | we can | live 7 [ 7 To | any | purpose, | 7 or ex- | pect our | minds | Clothed with | that 7 | covering | which a- | lone pre- | pares 7 | 7 For | social | worship. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Therefore | mourns my | soul 7 | 7 In | secret, | 7 and like | one a- | midst the | vast 7 | 7 And | widely | peopled | earth | 7 7 | 7 would | seek to | hide | 7 My- | self and | sorrows | 7 from the | motly \ crowd | 7 Of | human | obser- | vation. | 7 7 | 7 But | Oh | Thou | 7 Whose | bowels | 7 of com- | passion | never | fail 7 f Towards the j creatures | fashioned by thy | hand 7 | Re- | animate the | dead 7 | 7 and | give to | those | 7 Who | never | felt thy | presence | in their | souls | 310 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 Nor | saw thy | beauty, | both to | see and | feel | 7 That | thou art | lovely, | 7 and thy | presence | life:) 77 | 7 Re- | store the | wanderer, | 7 and sup- | port the | weak 7 | With thy sus- | taining | arm, | 7 for | strength is | thine. | ? 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | Oh ! | 7 pre- | serve this | tempest beaten | bark | 7 From | sinking in the \ wave, | 7 whose | swelling | surge | Threatens to | over- | whelm, | 7 For- | sake her | not 7 | 7 But | be her | Pilot, | 7 7 | though | no | sun nor j star 7 | 7 Ap- | pear a- I mid the | gloom ; | for if a | ray | 7 From | thy | all | cheering | presence, | 7 7 | light her | course | 7 She | rides the | storm se- | cure, | 7 7 | and in | due I time 7 | 7 Will ' reach her | destined | port, 7 | 7 7 | 7 and | be at j peace. | 7 7 | 7 7 | THE DOG AND WATER LILY. Cowper. 7 The | moon was | shady | 7 and | soft | airs 7 | Swept | Ouse's | silent | tide, 7 | When 7 | 'scaped from | literary | cares, 7 | 7 I I wander'd | 7 on his | side. | 77 | 7 7 | EXERCISES. 311 7 My | spaniel, | prettiest of his | race, 7 | 7 And | high | 7 in | pedigree, | (Two | nymphs | 7 a- | domed \vith | every | grace 7 | That | spaniel | found for | me,) 7 | Now | wanton'd | lost in | flags | 7 and | reeds 7 | Now | starting | 7 into | sight, 7 | 7 Pur- | sued the | swallow o'er the | meads 7 | 7 With | scarce a | slower | flight. | 7 7 | 1 7 | It was the | time when | Ouse dis- | play'd | 7 His | lilies | newly | blo\\Ti ; 7 | 7 Their | beauties | I in- | tent | 7 sur- | vey'd 7 | 7 And | one I | wish'd my | own. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 With | cane ex- | tended | far 7 | 7 1 | sought 7 | 7 To | steer it | close to | land ; 7 | 7 But | still the | prize | 7 though | nearly | caught, 7 7 Es- | caped my | eager | hand. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Beau | mark'd | 7 my | unsuc- | cessful | pains 7 | 7 With | fix'd con- | siderate | face, 7 | 7 And | puzzling | 7 7 | sat his | puppy | brains 7 j 7 To | compre- | hend the | case. | 7 7 | 7 7 | But with a | chirup | clear and | strong, | 7 Dis- | persing | all his | dream, 7 | 7 I | thence with- | drew 7 | 7 and | follow'd | long 7 | 7 The | windings | 7 of the | stream. | 7 7 | 7 7 7 My | ramble | finish'd | I re- | turn'd, | 7 7 | Beau 7 | (trotting | far be- | fore) 7 | 7 The | floating | wreath | 7 a- | gain dis- | cern'd | 7 And | plunging | left the | shore. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 312 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 I | saw him with that | lily | cropped 7 | 7 Im- | patient | swim to | meet 7 | 7 My | quick ap- | proach | 7 and | soon he | dropped 7 7 The | treasure | 7 at my | feet. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Charm'd with the | sight, | 7 the | world, | 7 1 | cried, 7 | 7 Shall | hear of | this thy | deed : 7 | 7 My | dog shall | mortify the | pride 7 | 7 Of | man's | 7 su- | perior | breed : | 7 7 | 7 But | chief | 7 my- | self | I will en- | join, 7 | 7 A- | wake at | duty's | call, 7 | 7 To | show a | love | 7 as | prompt as | thine 7 ] 7 To , Him who | gives me | all. | 7 7 | 7 7 | THE DELUGE. GENESIS, CHAPTER VII. And the | Lord 7 | said unto | Noah, | 7 7 | Come | thou, | 7 and | all thy | house | into the | ark : | 7 7 | 7 for | thee have I | seen | righteous be- | fore me | 7 in | this 7 | gene- | radon. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Of I every | clean | beast 7 | thou shalt | take to thee by | sevens, | 7 the | male and his | female : | 7 7 | 7 and of | beasts that are | not 7 | clean | 7 by | two, 7 | 7 the | male and his | fe- male. | 7 7 | 7 Of | fowls | also | 7 of die | air | 7 by | sevens, | 7 the | male and the | female ; | 7 to | keep 7 | seed a- | live | upon the | face of | all the | earth. [ 7 7 | 77)7 For | yet 7 j seven | days 7 | and I will | cause it | EXERCISES. 313 7 to I rain upon the | earth | forty | days | 7 and | forty | nights : | 7 7 | 7 and | every | living | substance | 7 that I have | made, 7 | will I de- | stroy 7 | 7 from | off the | face of the | earth. | 77|77 | 7 And | Noah | did | 7 ac- | cording unto | all that the | Lord com- | manded him. | 7 7 | 7 And | Noah was | six | hundred | years | old, 7 | 7 when the | flood of | waters | was upon the | earth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | Noah | went 7 | in 7 | 7 and his | sons, | 7 and his | wife, | 7 and his | sons' | wives | with him, | into the | ark, | 7 be- | cause of the | waters of the | flood". | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Of | clean | beasts | 7 and of | beasts that are | not 7 | clean, | 7 and of | fowls, | 7 and of | every | thing that | creepeth | upon the | earth, | 7 7 | There | went | in 7 | two and | two 7 | 7 unto | Noah | into the | ark, | 7 the ( male and the | female | 7 as | God had com- | manded | Noah- | 7 7 | 7 7 | And it | came to | pass I after | seven | days, | 7 that the | waters of the | flood | were upon the | earth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In the | six | hundredth | year of | Noah's | life, | 7 in the | second | month, | 7 the | seventeenth | day of the | month, | 7 the | same | day, | 7 were | all the | fountains of the | great | deep | broken | up, 7 | 7 and the | windows of | heaven | 7 were | opened. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And the | rain | was upon the | earth | forty | days | 7 and | forty | nights. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 In the | self 7 | same | day | entered | Noah, | 7 and | Shem, | 7 and | Ham, 7 | 7 and | Japheth, j 7 the | sons of | Noah ; | 7 and | 7 Noah's | wife, | 7 and the | three | wives of his | sons | with them, | into the | ark : | 7 7 | They, 7 | 7 and | every | beast | after his | kind, | 7 and | all the | cattle | after | their | kind, | 7 27 314 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. and | every | creeping | thing that | creepeth | upon the | earth 7 | after | his | kind, | 7 and | every | fowl | after his | kind, 7 | every | bird of | every | sort. 7 | 7 7 | 7 And they | went | in unto | Noah | into the 1 ark, | 7 7 two and | two of | all | flesh, | 7 where- | in is the breath of | life. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | they that | went 7 | in, 7 | went in | male and | female, of | all | flesh, 7 7 as | God had com- | manded him. | 7 7 | And the Lord 7 | shut him | in. | 7 7 \ 7 7 | 7 And the | flood was | forty | days | upon the earth : | 7 7 | 7 and the | waters in- | creased, | 7 and bare up the | ark, | 7 7 | and it was | lift | up a- | bove the | earth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And the | waters pre- | vail- ed, 7 | 7 and were in- | creased | greatly | upon the | earth : | 7 7 | 7 and tlie | ark went | up on the | face of the | waters. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And the | waters pre- | vailed ex- | ceedingly | 7 upon die | earth. 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | all the | high | liills | 7 that were | under the | whole | heavens, | 7 were | covered. | 7 7 | 7 7 \ Fif- | teen | cubits | upward | did the | waters pre- | vail ; | 7 and tlie | mountains were | covered. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | ah 1 | flesh | died | 7 that | moved upon the | earth, 7 | both of | fowl, 7 | 7 and of | cattle, | 7 and of | beast, 7 | 7 and of | every | creeping | thing | 7 that | creepeth | up- on tlie | earth, | 7 and | every | man. | 7 7 | 7 7 | All in whose | nostrils | 7 was the | breath of | life, | 7 of | all | that was in the | dry 7 | land, | died. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 'And | every | living | substance | was de- | stroyed 7 | 7 which | was upon the | face of the | ground, 7 | 7 7 ( both 7 | man, | 7 and | cattle, | 7 and tlie | creeping | tilings, 7 | 7 and the | fowl of the | heaven ; | 7 7 | And they were de- | stroyed from the | earth : | 7 7 | 7 EXERCISES. 315 and | Noah | only | 7 re- | mained a- | live, | 7 and | they that were | with him | 7 in the | ark. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And the | waters pre- | vailed upon the | earth | 7 an | hundred and | fifty | days. | 7 7 | 7 7 | HOHENLINDEN. Campbell. 7 On | Linden | 7 7 | when the j sun was | low, | 7 All | bloodless | 7 7 | lay the un- | trodden | snow, | 7 7 | 7 And | dark as | winter | 7 was the | flow | 7 Of | Iser | rolling | rapidly. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | Linden | 7 7 | saw an- | other | sight | When the | drum | beat | 7 at | dead of | night | 7 Com- | manding | fires of | death, | 7 to | light | 7 The | darkness | 7 of her | scenery. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 By | torch and | trumpet | 7 7 | fast ar- | ray'd | Each | horseman | drew his | battle | blade, | 7 7 | 7 And | furious | 7 7 | every | charger | neighed | 7 To | join the | dreadful | revelry. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then | shook tlie | hills | 7 with | thunder | riven, j Then j rush'd the | steed, | 7 to | battle | driven, | 7 7 | And | louder than the | bolts of | heaven, | 7 7 | Far, | flash'd | 7 the | red | 7 ar- | tillery. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | redder | yet | 7 those | fires shall | glow, | 7 On | Linden's | hills of | blood-stain'd | snow ; | 7 7 | 316 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 And | darker | yet | 7 shall | be the | flow, | 7 Of | Iser | rolling | rapidly. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 'Tis | morn ; | 7 7 | 7 but | scarce | yon | lurid | sun j 7 Can | pierce the | war-clouds | rolling | dun ; | 7 7 | 7 Where | furious | Frank | 7 and | fiery | Hun | 7 7 | Shout in their | sulphurous | canopy. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | combat | deepens. | 7 7 | 7 7 | On | 7 ye | brave | 7 Who | rush to | glory | 7 7 |7 or the | grave, | 77 | 7 7 | Wave, | 7 7 | Munich, | 7 7 | all thy | banners | wave ; I 77| 7 And | charge | 7 with | all | 7 thy | chivalry. | 7 7|77 | Few, | fe\v shall | part | where | many | meet, | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | snow | 7 shall be their | winding | sheet ; I 7 7 | 7 And | every | turf | 7 be- | neath their | feet [ 7 Shall | be a | soldier's | sepulchre. | 7 7 | 7 7 1 ADDRESS OF HENRY V. TO HIS TROOPS BEFORE THE GATES OF HARFLEUR. ShaJcspeare. Once | more | unto the | breach | dear | friends, | 7 7 | once | more ; | 7 7 | 7 Or | close the | wall up | 7 with our | English | dead. | 7 7 | 7 In | peace | 7 7 | 7 there's | nothing | so be- | comes a man EXERCISES. 317 7 As | modest | stillness | 7 and hu- | mility. | 7 7 | But when the | blast of | war | 7 7 | blows in our | ears, | Then | imitate the | action of the | tiger : | Stiffen the | sinews, | 7 7 | summon | up the | blood, | 7 Dis- | guise | fair | nature | 7 with | hard | favored | rage : | 7 7 | Then | lend the | eye | 7 a | terrible | aspect; | 7 7 | Let it | pry | 7 through the | portage of the | head, | Like the | brass | cannon ; | let the | brow o'er | whelm it, | 7 As | fearfully | as doth a | galled | rock | 7 7 | 7 O'er- | hang and | jutty | 7 his con- founded | base | 7 7 | Swilled with the | wild | 7 and | wasteful | ocean. | 7 7| 77 | Now | set the | teeth, | 7 and | stretch | 7 the | nostril | wide, | Hold | hard the | breath, | 7 and | bend | up | every | spirit | 7 To his | full | height ! | 7 7 | On, 7 | on, 7 | you | noble I English, | 7 7 | 7 Whose | blood is | fet from | fathers of i war | proof! | Fathers | 7 7 | 7 that | like | so many | Alexanders, | Have in these | parts, | 7 from | morn till | even | fought | 7 And | sheathed their | swords | 7 for | lack of | argu- ment. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Dis- | honor not your | mothers. | 7 7 | Now at- | test | 7 That | those whom you | calPd | Fathers | did be- | get you! | 7 Be | copy | now | 7 to | men of | grosser | blood, | 7 7 | 7 And | teach them | howto | war ! | 7 7 | 7 7 1 27* 318 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 And I you, | good | yeomen, | 7 Whose | limbs were | made in | England, | show us | here | 7 The | mettle of your | pasture ; | 7 7 | let us | swear | 7 That you are | worth your | breeding : | 7 7 | which I | douk not. | 7 7 | For there is | none of you | so | mean and | base | 7 That | hath not | noble | lustre | 7 in your | eyes. | 77| 77 | 71 | see you | stand, | like | grey hounds | 7 in the | slips, | 7 7 | Straining | upon the | start. | 7 7 | 7 The | game's a | foot, | 7 7 | Follow your | spirit : | 7 7 | and upon | this | charge, | Cry | God for | Harry ! | 7 7 | England ! | 7 and | Saint |George!|77|77| LUCY. Wordsworth. Three | years | 7 she | grew, | 7 in | sun and | show- er, | 7 7 | ^ Then | nature | said, | 7 " a | loveh'er | flower | 7 On | earth | 7 was | never | sown ; | 7 7 | This | child | I to my- | self | 7 will | take, ; | 7 7 | She shall be | mine, | 7 7 | and I will | make | 7 A | lady | of my | own. | 7 7 | 7 7 | EXERCISES. 319 " 7 My- | self | will to my | darling | 7 7 | be, | 7 Both | law and | impulse : | 7 7 | 7 and with | me | 7 The | girl | 7 in j rock | 7 and | plain, | 7 In | earth and j heaven, | 7 in | glade and | bower, | 7 Shall | feel | 7 an | over- | seeing | power | 7 To | kindle | 7 and re- | strain. | 7 7 | 7 7 | " She shall be | sportive | 7 as the | fawn | 7 That | wild with | glee | 7 a- | cross the | lawn | 7 Or | up the | mountain | 7 7 | springs ; | 7 7 | 7 And | hers [ 7 shall | be the | breathing | balm, | 7 And j hers j 7 the | silence | 7 and the | calm | 7 Of | mute in- | sensate | things. | 7 7 | 7 7 | " 7 The | floating | clouds | 7 their | state shall | lend | 7 To | her ; | 7 7 j 7 for | her | 7 the | willow|bend; | 7 7 | Nor shall she | fail to [ see, | Even in the | motions | 7 of the | storm, | Grace, | 7 that shall | mould | 7the | maiden's | form, | 7 By | silent | sympathy. | 7 7 | " 7 7 | 7 The | stars of | midnight | 7 shall be | dear | 7 To | her ; | 7 7 | and she shall | lean her | ear | 7 In | many a | secret | place, | 7 Where | rivulets | dance their | wayward | round, | 7 7 | 7 And | beauty, | 7 7 | born of | murmuring | sound, | 7 Shall | pass | into her face. | 7 7 1 7 7 | 7 And | vital | feelings of de- | light | 7 Shall | rear her | form | 7 to | stately | height ; | 7 7 | 7 Her | virgin | bosom | swell ; | 7 7 | Such | thoughts | 7 to | Lucy | 7 I will | give, | 320 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 While | she and | I | 7 to- | gether | live | Here | 7 in this | happy | dell." | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thus | nature | spake. | 7 7 | 7 The | work | 7 was | done. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 How | soon | 7 my | Lucy's | race | 7 was | run ! | 7 7 | 7 She | died, | 7 7 | 7 and | left to | me j 7 This | heath, | 7 this | calm and | quiet | scene ; | 7 7 | 7 The | memory of | what | has | been, ( 7 7 | 7 And | never | more | 7 will | be. | 7 7 | 7 7 | CONCLUSION OF THE REV. ROBERT HALLOS SERMON, Before the Volunteers at Bristol, in the prospect of inva- sion by France. 7 To | form an | adequate i- | dea | 7 of the | dudes of | this | crisis, | 7 7 | you must | raise your | minds | 7 to a | level | with your | station, | 7 7 | 7 and ex- | tend your | views | 7 to a | distant fu- | turity ; | 7 7 | 7 to | consequences | 7 die | most | certain, | 7 7 | though re- | mote. | 7 7 | 7 7 | By a | series of | criminal | enter- prises, | 7 7 | by the sue- | cesses of | guilty am- | bi- tion, | 7 7 | 7 the [ liberties of | Europe | have been | gradually | 7 ex- | tinguished : | 7 7 | 7 the | subju- | gation of | Holland, | Switzerland, | 7 and the | free | towns of | Germany, | 7 has com- | pleted | that ca- | tastrophe : | 7 7 | 7 and | we are the | only | people | 7 in the | eastern | hemisphere | who are in pos- | ses- sion of | equal | laws, | 7 and a | free | consti- | tution. | EXERCISES. 321 7 7 j 7 7 | But the | inun- | elation of | lawless | power, | 7 7 | after | covering the | rest of | Europe, | 7 7 | threatens | England ; | 7 7 | 7 and | we are | most ex- | actly, | most | critically | placed | 7 in the | only | aper- ture | 7 7 | where it can be | 7 sue- | cessfully re- | pel- led, 7 | 7 7 | in the Ther- | mopylae | 7 of the | uni- verse. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 As | far as the | interests of | freedom | 7 are con- | cerned, | 7 7 | 7 the | most im- | portant by | far 7 | 7 of | sublu- | nary | interests, | 7 7 | you, | 7 my | coun- trymen, | 7 7 | stand in the ca- | pacily | 7 of the | fede- ral | repre- | sentatives | 7 of the | human | race ; 7 | 7 7 | for with | you | 7 it | is to de- | termine, | (under | God,) | 7 in | what con- | dition | 7 the | latest pos- | terity | shall be | born; | 7 7 | 7 their | fortunes | are en- | trusted to | your | care, | and on | your | conduct | 7 at | this | moment | 7 de- | pends the | color | 7 and com- | plexion of their | destiny. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 If | liberty, | 7 7 | after being ex- | tinguished | on the | continent, | 7 is | suffered to ex- | pire | here, | 7 7 | whence is it | ever to e- | merge | 7 in the | midst of that | thick | night | that will in- | vest it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | It re- | mains with | you then | 7 to de- | cide | whe- ther that | freedom, | 7 at | whose | voice | 7 the | king- doms of | Europe | 7 a- | woke from the | sleep of | ages, | 7 to | run a ca- | reer of | virtuous | emu- | la- tion I 7 in | every thing | great and | good ; | 7 7 | 7 the | freedom | which dis- | pelled the | mists of | super- stition, | 7 and in- | vited the | nations | 7 to be- | hold their | God; | 7 7 | 'whose | magic | touch | kindled the | rays of | genius, | 7 the en- | thusiasm of | poetry, | and the | flame of | eloquence ; | 7 7 | 7 the | freedom | 7 322 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. which I poured into our | lap 7 | opulence | 7 and | arts, | 7 7 | 7 and em- | bellished | life | 7 with in- | numerable | insti- | tutions | 7 and im- | provements, | 7 7 | till it be- | came a | theatre of | wonders ; | 7 7 | it is for | you to de- | cide | whether this | freedom | 7 shall | yet sur- | vive, | 7 or | perish for | ever. | 7 7 | 7 7 | But you | have de- | cided. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 With | such a | trust, | every | thought of | what is af- | flicting in | war- fare, | 7 7 | every | appre- | hension of | danger | must | vanish, | 7 7 | 7 and | you are im- | patient to | mingle | 7 in the | battle of the | civilized | world. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Go then, | ye de- | fenders of your | country, | 7 ac- | companied | 7 with | every aus- | picious | omen ; | 7 7 | 7 ad- | vance with a- | lacrity into the | field, | 7 where | God him- | self | musters the | hosts of | war. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Re- | ligion | 7 is | too much | interested | in your sue- | cess, 7 | not to | lend you | her | aid ; | 7 7 | she will | shed | over your | enterprise | her se- | lectest | in- fluence. | 7 7 | 7 7 | While | you are en- | gaged in the | field | 7 7 | many | will re- | pair to the | closet, | 7 7 | many to the | sanctuary ; | 7 7 | 7 the | faith- ful of | every | name | will em- | ploy | that | prayer | which has | power with | God ; | 7 7 | 7 the | feeble | hands 7 | which are un- | equal | 7 to | any | other | wea- pon, | 7 7 | 7 will | grasp the | sword of the | Spirit: | 7 7 | and from | myriads of | humble, | contrite | hearts, | 7 the | voice of | inter- | cession, | suppli- | cation, | 7 and | weeping, | 7 will | mingle | in its as- | cent to | heaven | \vith the | shouts of | battle | 7 and the | shock of | arms. | 77 | 77 | 7 My | Brethren, | 7 I | cannot but i- | magine | 7 the | virtuous | heroes, | legislators and | patriots, | 7 of eve- EXERCISES. 323 ry | age and | country, | 7 are | bending from their | ele- vated | seats | 7 to | witness this | contest, | 7 in- | capa- ble, | till it be | brought to a | favorable | issue, | 7 of en- | joying | their e- | ternal | 7 re- | pose. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 En- | joy that re- | pose, | 7 il- | lustrious im- | mortals | 7 7 | 7 Your | mantle | fell when | you as- | cended ; | 7 7 | 7 and | thousands, | 7 in- | flamed with your | spirit, | 7 and im- | patient to | tread in your | steps, | 7 7 | 7 are | ready to swear by | Him that | sitteth on the throne, | 7 and | liveth for | ever and | ever, | 7 that | they will pro- | tect | freedom | 7 in her | last a- | sylum, | 7 and | never de- | sert | that | cause, | 7 which | you sus- | tained by your | labors, | 7 and ce- | mented with your | blood. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | Thou, | 7 7 | sole | ruler | 7 a- mong the | children of | men, | 7 7 | 7 to | whom | 7 the | shields of the | earth be- | long, | 7 7 | gird | on thy | sword, | thou most | Mighty : | 7 7 | go | forth with our | hosts | 7 in the | day of | battle ! | 7 7 | 7 Im- | part, | in ad- | dition to | their he- | reditary | valor, | 7 7 | that | confidence | 7 of sue- | cess | 7 which | springs from | thy | pre- sence ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Pour into their | hearts | 7 the | spirit of de- | parted | heroes ! | 7 7 | 7 In- | spire them | with thine | own ; | 7 7 | and while | led by thine j hand | 7 and | fighting under thy | banners, | open | thou their | eyes | 7 to be- | hold in | every | valley, |7 and in | every | plain, | what the | prophet | 7 be- | held by the | same il- | lumi- | nation | 7 7 | chariots of | fire | 7 and | horses of j fire ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then shall the | strong | man | be as | tow, | 7 and the | maker of it | 7 as a | spark ;| 7 7 | and they shall | burn to- | gether, [ 7 7 j 7 and [ none shall | quench them. | 7 7| 7 7 | 324 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 When | all thy | mercies, [ 7 7 | O my | God, | 7 My | rising | soul sur- | veys, | 7 Trans- | ported 1 7 with the | view, | 7 I'm | lost | 7 In | wonder, | love and | praise ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | O | how shall | words | 7 with | equal | warmth | 7 The | gratitude | 7 de- | clare, | 7 That | glows | 7 with- | in my | ravished | heart ! 7 7 | But | thou | 7 canst | read it | there. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thy | providence | 7 my | life sus- | tained, | 7 And | all my | wants re- | drest, | 7 7 | When in the | silent | womb | 7 I | lay, | 7 And | hung | 7 upon the | breast. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 To | all my | weak com- | plaints | 7 and | cries | 7 Thy | mercy | lent an | ear, | 7 Ere | yet my | feeble | thoughts | 7 had | learned | 7 To | form themselves | 7 in | prayer. | 7 1 \ 7 7 | Un- | numbered | comforts | 7 to my | soul | 7 7 | 7 Thy | tender | care be- | stowed, j 7 Be- | fore my | infant | heart | 7 con- | ceived | 7 From | whom those | comforts | flowed. | 7 7 | 7 7 [ When in the | slippery | paths of | youth | 7 With | heedless | steps | 7 1 | ran, | 7 7 | Thine | arm | 7 un- | seen | 7 con- | veyed me ,' safe, I 7 7| 7 And i led me | up to | man. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Through ] hidden | dangers, | 7 7 1 toils and [ deaths, \ EXERCISES. 325 7 It I gently | cleared ray | way, | And through the | pleasing | snares of | vice, | More to be | feared | 7 than | they. | 7 7 j 7 7 | 7 When | worn with | sickness | 7 7 | oft hast | thou | With | health | 7 re- | newed my | face ; | 7 7 | And when in | sins and | sorrows | sunk, | 7 Re- | vived my | soul with | grace. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Thy | bounteous | hand | 7 with | worldly | bliss | 7 Has | made my | cup | 7 run o'er ; | 7 7 | And in a | kind and | faithful | friend | 7 Has | doubled | all my | store. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Ten | thousand | thousand | precious | gifts | 7 My | daily | thanks em- | ploy ; | 7 7 | Nor is the | least | 7 a | cheerful | heart, | 7 That | tastes those | gifts with | joy. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Through | every | period of my | life \ 7 Thy | goodness | 7 I'll pur- | sue ; | 7 And | after | death | 7 in | distant | worlds, | 7 The | glorious | theme re- | new. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 When | Nature | fails, | 7 and | day and | night | 7 Di- | vide thy | works no | more, | 7 My | ever | grateful | heart 7 | O | Lord | 7 Thy | mercy | 7 shall a- | dore. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Through | all e- | ternity | 7 7 | 7 to | thee | 7 A | joyful | song | 7 Til | raise. | 7 7 | 7 But | Oh ! | 7 E- | ternity's | too | short | 7 To | utter | all thy | praise. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 28 32G GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. PABT OF THE BURIAL. SERVICE. From the Book of Common Prayer. 1 am the J resur- | rection | 7 and the | life, | 7 7 | saith the | Lord ; | 7 7 | he that be- | lieveth in | me, | though he were | dead, | 7 7 | yet shall he | live : | 7 7 | 7 and | whoso- | ever | liveth, | 7 and be- | lieveth in | me, | 7 shall | never | die. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | know | that my Re- | deemer | liveth, [ 7 7 | and that he shall | stand | 7 at the | latter | day | 7 upon the | earth, | 7 7 | 7 and | though | worms de- j stroy | this | body, | 7 7 | yet in my | flesh | 7 shall I | see | God. | 7 7 | 7 7 | " 7 Be- | hold, | 7 thou hast | made my | days, 7 | as it were | 7 a | span | long : | 7 7 | 7 and mine | age | 7 is | even as | nothing | 7 in res- | pect of | thee ; | 7 7 | 7 and | verily | every | man | living | 7 is | alto- | geth- er | vanity; | 7 7 I 7 for | man | walketh in a | vain | shadow, | 7 and dis- | quieteth him- | self in | vain : | 7 7 | 7 he | heapeth | up | riches | 7 and j cannot | tell | who shall | gather them. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 A | thousand | years | 7 in | thy | sight | are but as | yesterday ; | 7 7 | seeing | that is | past | 7 as a | watch in the | night. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 As | soon as thou | scatter- est them | 7 7 | they are | even as a- | sleep : | 7 7 | 7 and | fade away | suddenly | 7 like the | grass. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In the | morning | 7 it is | green, | 7 and | grow- eth | up: | 7 7 | but in the | evening | 7 it is | cut | down, | dried | up, | 7 and | withered. | 7 7 | 7 7 | We con- 1 sume a- | way | 7 in thy dis- | pleasure ; | 7 7 | and are a- | fraid | 7 at thy | wrathful | indig- | EXERCISES. 327 nation : | 7 for | when thou art | angry, | 7 7 | all our | days are | gone, 7 | and we | bring our | years | 7 to an end, 7 | as it were a | tale | 7 that is | told. | 7 7 | 7 7 | So | teach us to | number our | days: | 7 7 | that we may ap- | ply our | hearts | 7 unto | wisdom. | 7 7 | 77| Now is | Christ | risen from the | dead, | 7 and be- | come the | first | fruits | 7 of | them that | slept: | 7 7 | 7 for | since by | man | came | death, | 7 by | man | came | also, | 7 the | resur- | rection of the | dead. | 7 7 | 7 7 | As in | Adam | all | die, | 7 7 | even | so | 7 in | Christ | 7 shall | all be | made a- | live. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | some | man | 7 will | say, 7 | " How are the | dead | raised | up ? | 7 7 | and with | what | body | 7 do they | come ?" | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thou | fool, | 7 7 | that which thou | sowest | 7 is | not | quickened | 7 ex- | cept it | die : | 7 7 | 7 and | that which thou | sowest, | 7 thou | sowest not | that | body | 7 that | shall be, | 7 but | bare | grain, | 7 7 | 7 it may | chance of | wheat, | or of | some | other | grain : | 7 7 | 7 but | God | giveth it a | body, | as it hath | pleased | him ; | 7 7 | 7 and to | every | seed | 7 his | own | body. | 7 7 | 7 7 | So, | also, | 7 is the | resur- | rection | 7 of the | dead : | 7 7 | 7 It is | sown | 7 in cor- | ruption : | 7 7 \ 7 it is | rais- ed | 7 in | incor- | ruption : | 7 7 | 7 It is | sown | 7 in dis- | honor ; | 7 7 | 7 it is | raised | 7 in | glory : | 7 7 | 7 It is | sown | 7 in | weakness ; | 7 7 | 7 it is ' raised | 7 in | power : | 7 7 | 7 It is | sown | 7 a | natural | body, | 7 7 | 7 it is | raised [ 7 a | spiritual | body. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Now | this I | say, | brethren, | 7 that | flesh and | blood | cannot in- | heritthe | kingdom of | God; | 7 7 | 328 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. neither doth cor- | ruption | 7 in- | herit | incor- | rup- tion. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Be- | hold, | 7 I | show you a | mystery. | 7 7 | 7 7 | We shall | not | all | sleep: | 7 7 | but we shall | all be | changed | 7 in a | moment. | 7 in the | twinkling of an | eye, | 7 at the | last I trump : | 7 7 | for the trumpet shall | sound, | 7 and the | dead shall be | raised | incor- | ruptible, | 7 and | we shall be | changed. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 For | this cor- | ruptible | 7 must | put on | in- cor- | ruption, | 7 7 | 7 and this | mortal | 7 must | put on | immor- | tality. | 7 7 | 7 7 | So | when this cor- | ruptible | shall have | put on | incor- | ruption ; | 7 and this | mortal | shall have | put on | immor- | tality, | 7 7 | then shall be | brought to* | pass | 7 the | saying that is written | 7 7 j " Death | 7 is | swallowed | up | 7 in | victory." I 7 7 | 7 7 | O | Death! | 7 7 | where is thy | sting? | 7 7 | 7 7 | O | Grave ! | 7 7 | where is thy | victory ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | sting of | death | 7 is | sin; | 7 7 | 7 and the | strength of | sin | 7 is the | law. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | thanks be to | God, | 7 who | giveth us the | victory, | 7 7 | through our | Lord | Jesus | Christ. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Man that is | born of a | woman, | 7 7 | hath but a | short | time to | live, | 7 and is | full of | misery. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | cometh | up, | 7 and is | cut | down | 7 like a | flower: | 7 7 | 7 he | fleeth, | 7 as it | were, a | shadow, | 7 and | never con- | tinueth | 7 in | one | stay. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In the | midst of | life 7 | we are in j death : | 7 7 | 7 Of | whom may we | seek for | succor, | but of | thee, | O | Lord : | 7 7 | who for our | sins | 7 art | justly dis- | pleased ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Yet | O | Lord | God | most | holy; | 7 7 | 7 7 | O | Lord | most | EXERCISES. 329 mighty ; | 7 7 | O | holy | 7 and most | merciful | Sav- iour ; I 7 7 | 7 de- | liver us | not 7 | into the | bitter | pains | 7 of e- | ternal | death. | 7 7 | 7 7 | ANTONY'S ORATION OVER CESAR'S BODY. Shakspeare. Friends, | 7 7 | Romans, | 7 7 | Countrymen ! | 7 7 | Lend me your | ears ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | come | 7 to | bury | Caesar, | 7 7 | not to | praise | him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | evil | 7 that | men | do, | lives) after them ; | 7 7 | 7 The | good | 7 is | oft in- | terred | 7 with their | bones: | 7 7 | So let it | be | 7 with | Cssar! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Noble | Brutus | 7 Hath | told you, | Caesar | 7 was am- | bitious. | 7 7 | If it | were so, | it was a | grievous | fault; | 7 7 |. 7 And | grievously | 7 hath | Caesar | answered it. | 7 7 Here, under | leave of | Brutus, | 7 and the | rest, | 7 (For | Brutus | 7 is an | honorable | man, | 7 7 | So are they | all, 7 | all | honorable | men,) | 7 7 | Come I | 7 to | speak | 7 at | Caesar's | funeral. | 7 7 | 7 7 | He was my | friend, | 7 7 | faithful | 7 and | just to | me : | 7 7 | 7 But | Brutus | says | he was am- | bitious ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | Brutus | 7 is an | honorable | man. | 77|77| 28* 330 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION* He hath | brought | many | captives | home to | Rome, | 7 Whose | ransoms | 7 did the | general | cofiers | fill: | 77177 | 7 Did | this | 7 in | Caesar | seem am- | bitious ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | When that the | poor have | cried, | 7 7 | Caesar hath | wept; | 7 7| 77 | 7 Am- | bition | 7 should be | made of | sterner | stuff. | 7 7 | 77 | 7 Yet | Brutus | says | 7 he | was am- | bitious ; | 7 7 | 7 And | Brutus | 7 is an | honorable | man. | 77|77| 7 You | all did | see, | 7 that, | on the | Lupercal, | 7 I | thrice pre- | sented him | 7 a | kingly | crown ; | 7 7 | Which he did | thrice | 7 re- | fuse. | 7 7 | 7 Was | this am- | bition? | 77 | 7 7 | 7 Yet | Brutus | says, | he was am- | bitious ; | 7 7 | 7 And | sure, | 7 he | is | 7 an | honorable | man ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | speak not | 7 to dis- | prove | what | Brutus I spoke, | 7 But | here | I am to | speak | what I do I know. | 77|77| 7 You | all did | love him | once ; | 7 7 | not without | cause. | 7 7 | What | cause with- | holds you | then, | 7 to | mourn for him ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | O | judgment ! | 7 7 | Thou art | fled to | brutish | beasts, I 7 7 | 7 And | men | '7 have | lost their | reason ! | 7 7 | 7 7 [ Bear with me : | 7 7 | 7 My | heart 7 | is in the J coffin | there | 7 with Caesar; I EXERCISES. 7 7 | And I must | pause 7 | till it | come j back to me. |77|77| 7 But | yesterday, | 7 the | word of | Caesar, | might | 7 Have | stood a- | gainst the | world 1 | 7 7 | now | lies he | there, | 7 7 I 7 And | none | so | poor 17 to | do him | reve- rence. | 7 7 | 7 7 | | masters ! | 7 7 | If I were dis- | posed to | stir | 7 Your | hearts and | minds | 7 to | mutiny and | rage, | 1 should do | Brutus | wrong, | 7 and | Cassius | 7 7 | wrong ; | 7 7 | Who, | 7 you | all | know, | 7 are | honorable | men. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | will not | do | them | wrong ; | 7 7 [ 7 7 | I | rather | choose | 7 To | wrong the | dead, | 7 to | wrong my- | self *| 7 and | you, | Than I wiD | wrong | such 7 | honorable | men. | 7 7 | 77| 7 But | here's a | parchment | 7 with the | seal of | Caesar; | : #** 7 I | found it | 7 in his | closet ; | 7 7 | 'Tis his | will : | 7 7 | Let but the | commons | hear | 7 this | testament, | 7 7 | 7 (Which, | pardon me, | 7 I | do not | mean to | read,) | 7 7 | And they would | go | 7 and | kiss | dead | Caesar's | wounds, | 7 And j dip their | napkins | 7 in his | sacred | blood ; | 7 7 | Yea | beg | hair of him | 7 for [ memory, | 7 And | dying, | 7 7 | mention it | within their | wills, | 7 7 | 7 Be- | queathing it I 7 as a | rich 7 | legacy, | Unto their | issue. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 332 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. If you have | tears, | ? pre- | pare to [ shed them | now. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 You | all do | know | this | mantle : | 7 7 | I re- | member | 7 The | first | time | ever | Caesar | put it | on ; | 7 7 | 'Twas on a | summer's | evening | 7 in his | tent ; | 7 7 | That | day | 7 he | over- | came the | Nervii: | 7 7 | 7 7 | Look ! | 7 in | this | place ran | Cassius' | dagger | through ! | 7- 7 | 7 7 | See what a | rent | 7 the | envious | Casca | made. | 77|77| Through | diis | 7 die | well be- | loved | Brutus | stabbed, | 7 7 | 7 7 | And as he | plucked his | cursed | steel a- | way, | 7 7 | Mark 7 | how the | blood of | Caesar | followed , it! | 7 7 | 77 | This | 7 was the | most un- | kindest cut of all ! 7 7 | 7 For | when the | noble | Caesar | saw | him | stab, | 7 In- | gratitude | 7 more | strong than | traitor's | arms, | Quite | vanquished him : | 7 7 | then | burst his | mighty heart ; | 7 7 | And in his | mande, | 7 7 | muffling up his | face, | 7 7 | Even at the | base of | Pompey's | statue, | 7 7 | 7 (Which | all the | while | ran | blood,) | 7 7 | great | Czesar | fell. | 7 7 | 7 7 | O what a | fall | 7 was | there, | 7 my | countrymen ! | 77|77| Then | I, | 7 and | you, | 7 and | all of us, | feU | down, | 7 Whilst | bloody | treason | flourished | over us. | 7 7 | 7 7 | O ! | now you | weep ; | 7 7 | 7 and I per- 1 ceive | 7 you I feel, I EXERCISES. 33S 7 The | dint of | pity ; | 7 7 | these | 7 are | gracious | drops. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Kind | souls; | 7 7 | what | weep you, | 7 7 | when you but be- | hold 1 7 Our | Caesar's | vesture | wounded ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Look you | here ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Here is him- | self, | 7 7 | marr'd | 7 as you | see, | 7 by | traitors. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Good | friends, | sweet | friends, | 7 7 | let me not | stir you | up | 7 To | such a | sudden | flood of | mutiny. ] 7 7 | 7 7 | They that have | done this | deed, | 7 are | hono- rable : | 7 7 | What | private | griefs | 7 they | have, 1 7 a- | las ! | 7 I | know not, | 7 That | made them | do it ; | 7 7 | they are | wise, | 7 and | honorable, | 7 And | will | 7 no | doubt, | 7 with | reason | answer you. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | come not, | friends, | 7 to | steal away | 7 your | hearts ; \ 1 7 | I am | no | orator, ' 7 as | Brutus | is ; | 7 7 | But as you | know me | all, | 7 a | plain | blunt | man, 7 That | love my | friends ; | 7 7 | 7 and | that | they | know | full | well | 7 That | gave me | public | leave | 7 to | speak of him. | 7 7 | 77 | For I have | neither | wit, | 7 nor | words, j 7 nor | worth. | 7 7 | Action, | 7 nor | utterance, | 7 nor | power of | speech, | 334 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 To I stir | men's I blood. | 7 7 | 7 I only | speak | right | on : | 7 7 | 7 I | tell you | that | 7 which | you your- | selves | 7 do | know ; | 7 7 | Show you | sweet | Caesar's | wounds, | 7 7 | poor, | poor, dumb | mouths, | 7 And | bid | them | speak | for me. | 7 7 | 7 7 | But were | I | Brutus, | 7 And | Brutus | Antony, | 7 7 | there were an | Antony | 7 Would | ruffle | up your | spirits, | 7 7 | 7 and | put a | tongue | 7 In | every | wound of | Caesar, | 7 that should | move | 7 The | stones of j Rome | 7 to | rise in | mutiny. | 77|77| SPEECH OF PATRICK HENRT. Mr. | President, | 7 7 | 7 it is | natural to | man | 7 to in- | dulge in the il- | lusions of | hope. | 7 7 | 7 7 j We are | apt to | shut our | eyes | 7 a- | gainst a | painful | truth, | 7 7 | 7 and | listen to the | song of that | Syren, | 7 7 | till she trans- | forms us | 7 into | beasts. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Is | this the | part of | wise | men, | 7 en- | ga- ged in a | great and | arduous | struggle | 7 for | liberty ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Are we dis- | posed | 7 to | be of the | number of | those | 7 who | having | eyes, | see not, | 7 and | having | ears, | hear not the | things | 7 which so | nearly con- | cern our | temporal sal- | vation? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 For | my | part, | 7 what- | ever | anguish of ( EXERCISES. 335 spirit | 7 it may | cost, | 7 7 | I am | willing to | know the | whole | truth ; | 7 7 | 7 to | know the | worst, | 7 7 | and to pro- | vide for it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | have but | one | lamp, | 7 by which | my | feet are | gUided ; | 7 7 | 7 and | that | 7 is the | lamp of ex- j perience. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | know of | no | way of | judging of the | future | 7 7 | but by the | past. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | judging by the | past, | 7 1 1 wish to | know | what there has | been | 7 in the | conduct of the | Brit- ish | ministry | 7 for the | last | ten | years, | 7 to | justify | 7 those | hopes | 7 with which | gentlemen | 7 have been | pleased to | solace them- | selves | 7 and the | house? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Is it | that in- | sidious | smile | 7 with | which our pe- j tition | 7 has been | lately re- | ceived ? | 7 7 | 7 7 I Trust it not | 7 Sir ; | it will | prove a | snare | 7 to your | feet. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Suffer not your- | selves | 7 to be be- | trayed | 7 with a | kiss. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Ask yourselves | how this | gracious re- | ception | 7 of our pe- | tition | 7 com- | ports with those | war-like | prepa- | rations | 7 which | cover our | waters | 7 and | darken our | land. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Are | fleets and | armies | necessary | 7 to a | work of | love and | reconcili- | ation ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Have we | shown ourselves | so un- | willing to be | reconciled, | 7 that | force | 7 must be | called | in | 7 to | win | back our | love ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Let us not | 7 de- | ceive our- selves, | Sir. | 7 7 | 7 7 | These | are the | implements of | war | 7 and | subju- | gation ; | 7 7 | 7 the j last | argu- ments | 7 to which | kings re- | sort. | 7 7 j 71 | ask | gentlemen, | 7 Sir, | what | means this martial ar- ray, | 7 if its | purpose | be not to | force us to sub- | mission ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Can | gentlemen as- | sign | any | otlier ] possible | motive for it? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Has | Great | Bri- 336 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. tain | any | enemy | 7 in | this | quarter of the | world, | 7 to | call for | all this ac- | cumu- | lation | 7 of | navies and | armies? | 7 7 | 7 7 | No Sir, | she has | none. | 7 7 | 7 7 | They are | meant for | us : | 7 7 | 7 they | can be | meant for | no | other. | 7 7 | 7 7 | They are | sent | over | 7 to | bind and | rivet upon us | those [ chains, | which the | British | ministry | 7 have been | so | long | forging. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And | what | have we | 7 to op- | pose to them ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Shall we | try | argument? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Sir, | 7 we | have been | trying | that | 7. for the | last | ten | years. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Have we | any thing | new | 7 to | offer | 7 upon the | subject? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Nothing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | We have | held the | subject | up | 7 in | every | light of | which it is | capable ; | 7 7 | but it has been | all in | vain. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Shall we re- | sort to en- I treaty | 7 and | humble | suppli- | cation? | 7 7 | 7 7 | What | terms | 7 shall we | find | which | have not | been al- | ready ex- | hausted ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Let us not | 7 1 be- | seech you, Sir, | 7 de- | ceive ourselves | longer, j 7 7 | 7 7 | Sir, | 7 we have j done | every thing ( 7 that | could be | done, | 7 to a- | vert the | storm | 7 which is | now | coming | on. | 7 7 | 7 7 | We have pe- | titioned, | 7 7 | we have re- | monstrated, | 7 7 | we have | suppli- cated, | 7 7 | we have | prostrated ourselves | 7 be- | fore the | throne, | 7 7 | and have im- | plored | its | interpo- | sition | 7 to ar-| rest the ty- 1 rannical | hands | 7 of the | ministry | 7 and | parliament. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Our pe- | ti- tions | 7 have been | slighted ; | 7 7 | 7 our re- | mon- strances | 7 have pro- | duced ad- | ditional | violence, | 7 and | insult ; | 7 7 | 7 our | suppli- | cations | 7 have been | disre- | garded ; | 7 7 | 7 and we have been | spurned, | 7 with con- | tempt, | 7 from the | foot of the | throne. | EXERCISES. 337 7 7 I 7 7 I 7 In I vain, 7 after | these | things, 7 | may we in- | dulge the | fond | hope of | peace | 7 and | recon- cili- | ation. | 7 7 | 7 7 | There is \ no \ longer \ any \ room for \ hope. | 7 7 | 7 7 | If we | wish to be | free, | 7 7 | if we | mean to pre- | serve in- | violate | those in- | estimable | privileges | 7 for | which we have been | so | long con- | tending, | 7 7 | if we | mean not | basely to a- | bandon | 7 the | noble | struggle | 7 in | which we have been | so | long en- | gaged, | 7 and | which we have | pledged ourselves | never to a- | bandon, | 7 7 | until the | glorious | object | 7 of our | contest | shall be ob- | tained, | 7 7 | We must | fight ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | I re- | peat it, Sir, | 7 we | must 7 | fight ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 An ap- | peal to | arms, | and to the | God of | Hosts, | 7 is | all | 7 that is | left us ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 They | tell us, | Sir, 7 | that we are | weak, | 7 un- | able to | cope with so | formidable an | adversary. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | when shall we be | stronger ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Will it be the | next | week, | 7 or the | next | year ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Will it | be | when we are | totally dis- [ armed, | 7 and | when a | British | guard | 7 shall be | stationed in | every | house ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Shall we | gather | strength | 7 by | irreso- | lution, | 7 and in- | ac- tion ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Shall we ac- | quire the | means of ef- | fectual re- | sistance, | 7 by | lying su- | pinely | 7 on our | backs, | 7 and | hugging the de- | lusive | phan- tom of j hope, | 7 un- | til our | enemies | 7 shall have | bound us | hand and | foot? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Sir, 7 j 7 we are | not | weak, | 7 if we | make a | proper | use of | those | means | 7 which the | God of | nature | 7 hath | placed in our | power. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Three | millions of j people, | 7 7 | armed in the | holy | cause of | liberty, | 29 338 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 and in | such a | country | 7 as | that which | we pos- | sess, | 7 are in- | vincible | 7 by | any | force | 7 which our | enemy | 7 can | send a- | gainst us. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Be- | sides, Sir, | 7 we shall | not | fight our | battles a- | lone. | 7 7 | 7 7 | There is a | just | God | 7 who pre- | sides | over the | destinies of | nations ; | 7 7 | 7 and | who will | raise | up | friends | 7 to | fight our battles | for us. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | battle, | Sir, | 7 is not to the | strong a- | lone, | 7 7 | it | is to the | vigilant | 7 the | active, | 7 the | brave. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Be- sides, Sir, | 7 we have | no e- | lection. | 7 7 | 7 7 If we were | base enough | 7 to de- | sire it, | 7 it is now | too | late | 7 to re- | tire from the | contest. | 7 7 7 7 | There is | no re- | treat, | 7 7 | but in sub- | mis sion | 7 and | slavery. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Our | chains are forged. I 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Their | clanking | 7 may be heard | on the | plains of | Boston. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 the war | 7 is in- | evitable, | 7 7 | and | let it | come ! 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I re- | peat it Sir, | 7 7 | let it j come ! 7 7 j 7 7 | It is in | vain Sir | 7 to ex- | tenuate the matter. | 7 7 | Gentlemen may | cry | peace, | peace ! 7 7 | but there | w no | peace. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | war is | actually be- | gun ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | next | gale that | sweeps from the | north | 7 will | bring to our ears | 7 the | clash of re- | sounding | arms ! | 7 7 | 7 7 7 Our | brethren | 7 are al- | ready | 7 in the | field ! 7 7 | 7 7 | Why | stand | we | here | idle ? | 7 7 | 7 7 What | is it | 7 that | gentlemen | wish ? | 7 7 | 7 7 What 7 | would they | have? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Is | life 7 so | dear, | 7 or | peace | so | sweet, | as to be | pur- chased | 7 at the | price of | chains and | slavery ? | 7 7 7 7 | 7 For- | bid it, | 7 Al- | mighty | God ! | 7 7 | 7 EXERCISES. 339 I I know not | what | course | others may | take ; | 7 7 | 7 but | as for | me, | 7 7 | give me | liberty ; | 7 7 | 7 or | give me | death ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | THE BATTLE OF WARSAW. Campbell. 7 When | leagued op- | pression | poured to | northern j wars, | 7 Her | whisker' d | pandoors, | 7 and her | fierce | 7 bus- | sars, | 7 7 | Waved her | dread | standard | 7 to the | breeze of | morn, | 7 7 1 Peal'd her | loud | drum, | 7 and | twang'd her | trumpet | horn; | 7 7 | 7 Tu- | multuous | horror | 7 7 | brooded | o'er her | van, | 7 Pre- | saging | wrath, | 7 to | Poland, | 7 7 | 7 and to j man ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Warsaw's | last | champion | 7 from her | heights | 7 sur- I vey'd, | 7 7 | Wide o'er the | fields, | 7 a | waste of | ruin | laid ; | 77|77| O ! | Heaven ! | 7 he | cried, | 7 my | bleeding | coun- try | save ! | 7 7 | Is there no | hand on | high, | 7 to | shield the | brave ? | 7 7 | What though de- | struction | 7 7 | sweep these | lovely | plains, | Rise, | fellow | men ! | 7 our | country | 7 7 | yet re- | mains! I 340 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 7 By | that | dread | name, | 7 we | wave the | sword on | high, | 7 And | swear | 7 for | her to | live ! | 7 7 | 7with | her | 7 to | die! | 77 | 77 | 7 He | said, | 7 7 | 7 and | on the | rampart | heights | 7 ar- | ray'd | 7 His | trusty | wariors, | 7 7 | few, | 7 but | undis- | may'd ; 7 7 | Firm | paced, | 7 and | slow, | 7 a | horrid | front they | form, | 7 7 | Still | 7 as the | breeze, | 7 but | dreadful | 7 as the | storm ; | 7 7 | Low | murmuring | sounds a- | long their | banners | fly, | 7 Re- | venge | 7 or | death, | 7 the | watchword | and re-|ply;|77|77| Then | peal'd the | notes, | 7 om- | nipotent to | charm, | 7 And the | loud | tocsin | 7 7 | toll'd | 7 their | last a- [ larm. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In | vain, | 7 a- | las ! | 7 in | vain, | 7 7 | 7 ye | gal- lant | few ! | 7 From | rank to | rank | 7 your | volley 'd | thunder | flew ; | 7 7 | Oh ! | bloodiest | picture | 7 in the | book of | Time, | 7 Sar- | matia | fell, | un- | wept, | 7 with- | out a | crime : | Found not a | generous | friend, | 7 a | pitying | foe, | 7 7 | Strength in her | arms, | 7 nor | mercy | 7 in her | wo ! | 7 7 | Dropp'd from her | nerveless | grasp, | 7 the | shatter'd | spear, I 7 7 | Closed her | bright | eye, | 7 and | curb'd | 7 her | high ca- | reer ; | 7 7 | EXERCISES. 341 Hope, | 7 for a | season, | 7 7 | bade the | world | fare- | well, | 77(7 And | Freedom | shriek'd, | ,7 as | Kosci- | usko | fell. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | sun | went | down, | 7 nor | ceased the j car- nage | there, | 7 Tu- | multuous | murder | 7 7 | shook the I midnight | air, | 7 7 | 7 On | Prague's | proud | arch | 7 the | fires of | ruin | glow, | 7 His | blood-dyed | waters | 7 7 | murmuring | far be- |low;|77| 7 The | storm pre- | vails, | 7 7 | 7 the | rampart | yields a | way, | Bursts the ( wild | cry | 7 of | horror | 7 and dis- | may J |77| Hark ! | 7 7 | 7 as the | smouldering | piles | 7 with \ thunder | fall ! | 7 A | thousand | shrieks | 7 for | hopeless *| mercy | call ! |77| Earth | shook, | 7 7 | red | meteors | flashed a- | long the I sky, | 7 And | conscious I Nature | shudder'd | 7 at the | cry ! | 771771 SPEECH OF CASSIUS, INSTIGATING BRUTUS TO JOIN THE CONSPIRACY AGAINST CAESAR. Shakspeare. Well ! | Honor | 7 is the | subject | 7 of my | story. 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | cannot | tell | 7 what | you | 7 and | other ( men 342 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Think of this | life; | 7 7 | But for my | single | self; | I | 7 had as | lief | not | be, | 7 as | live to | be | 7 In | awe of | such a | thing | 7 as | I my- | self. | 7 7 | I was | born | free as | Caesar ; | 7 7 | so were | you : |77| 7 We | both have | fed as | weU ; | 7 7 | 7 and | we can | both | 7 En- | dure the | winter's | cold, | 7 as | well as | he, | 7 7 | 7 For | once | 7 upon a | raw and | gusty | day, | 7 The | troubled | Tiber | chafing | 7 with his | shores, | Caesar | says to me, | 7 7 | " Dar'st thou, | Cassius, | now | Leap | in with | me | into this | angry | flood, | 7 And | swim to | yonder | point ?" | 7 7 | 7 Upon the | word, | 7 Ac- | coutered as I | was, | 7 I | plunged | in, | 7 And | bade | him | follow : | 7 7 | so in- | deed he | did. | 7 The | torrent | roared, | 7 7 | and we did | buf- fet it | 7 With | lusty | sinews ; | 7 7 | throwing it a- | side, | 7 And stemming it | 7 with | hearts of | controversy. I 77 | 7 But | ere | 7 we could ar- | rive the | point pro- | posed | Caesar | cryed | 7 7 | " Help me, | 7 7 | Cassius, | 7 or I | sink." | 7 7 | 7 7 | I, 7 | 7 as JE- | neas, | 7 our | great | ancestor, | 7 7 | Did from the | flames of | Troy, | 7 upon his | shoulders | EXERCISES. 343 7 The | old An- | chises | bear ; | 7 7 | so from the [ waves of | Tiber, | 7 Did | I 7 | 7 the | tired | Caesar; |*7 7 | 7 and this | man | 7 Is | now be- | come a | God ; | 7 7 | 7 and | Cassius | 7 is | 7 A I wretched | creature, | 7 and must | bend his | body, | If | Caesar | 7 7 | carelessly | 7 but | nod on him. | 7 7 | 77 | He had a | fever | when he was in | Spain, | 7 And | when the | fit was | on him | 7 I did | mark | How he did j shake ; | 7 7 | 7 'tis | true; | this | God | 7 did | shake; | 77 | 7 His | coward | lips | did from their | colour | fly ; | 7 And | that same | eye, | 7 whose | bend | 7 doth | awe the | world, | 7 Did | lose its | lustre ; | 7 7 | 7 I did | hear him | groan : | 7 7 | Aye, | 7 and that | tongue of his | 7 that | bade the | Romans | Mark him, | 7 and | write his | speeches | 7 in their | books, | 7 7 | A- | las ! | 7 it | cried ; | 7 7 | Give me some | drink, | 7 Ti- | tinius!" | 7 As a | sick | girl. | 7 7 | 7 Ye | Gods, | 7 it doth a- | maze me, | 7 A | man of | such a | feeble | temper, | 7 should | So | get the | start | 7 of the ma- | jestic | world, | 7 And | bear the | palm a- | lone. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Brutus | 7 and | Caesar. | 7 7 | What | should be in | that | Caesar? I 77 I 77 I 344 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. Why should | that 7 | name | 7 be | sounded | more than | yours ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Write them to- | gether ; | 7 7 | yours | 7 is as | fair a | name; | 7 7 | Sound them ; | 7 7 | it doth be- | come the | mouth as | well, | 7 7 | Weigh them; | 7 7 | it is as | heavy: | 7 7 | con- jure with 'em | 7 7 | Brutus | 7 will | start a | spirit | 7 as | soon as | Caesar. I 7 7| Now in the | name of | all the | Gods at | once, | 7 7 | Upon what | meats | 7 dotli | this our | Caesar | feed, | That he has I grown so | great? | 7 7 | Age, | thou art | shamed ! | 7 7 | Rome, | 7 thou hast | lost thy | breed of | noble | bloods. |77|77| When | went there | by an | age, | since the great | flood, | But it was | famed | 7 with | more | than with | one | man? | 7 7 | When could they | say, | 7 till | now, | 7 that | talked of | Rome, | 7 That her | wide | walls | 7 en- | compassed | 7 but | one | man? | 77 | 77 | Oh ! | 7 7 | you and | I | 7 have | heard our | fathers | say, | There was a | Brutus | once, | 7 7 | that would have | brook'd | 7 The in- | fernal | devil, | 7 to | keep | his | state in | Rome | 7 As | easily | 7 as a | king. | 7 7 | 7 7 | \ GENERAL LIBRARY OF CALIFORNIA BERKELEY TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWE1 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on th date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. U Nl OK 14 DAYS A^R RECEIPT. AUi ,c 1963 REC'D L.D AUG i 21-100m-l, '54 (1887816) 476 I LJ V / U.C. BERKELEY C005311370