CHAPTER III

THE CRITERION OF QUALITY

Thus far we have been considering the criteria of states essentially intellectual. “Time” has to do with the extent of the thought; “Pitch” with the purpose. Quality manifests emotional states. By Quality we mean that subtle element in the voice by which is expressed at one time tenderness, at another harshness, at another awe, and so on through the whole gamut of feeling.

In order to prove that the quality (_timbre_, the French call it) of the voice is the result of emotional conditions, we must first understand what we may term the physics of quality. The number of air waves striking the ear in a given time determines the pitch; the width of the waves determines the volume of sound; the shape of the waves determines the quality. But how is the shape of air waves affected? It would take us too far from our subject to discuss this question in detail.[5] Let it suffice that the shape of the air wave, and hence the quality, is dependent upon the texture of the vibrating body. We recognize at once the different qualities respectively of the flute, piano, violin, harp or cornet; it is the difference in the texture of the vibrating substances that enables us to do this. Why will the artist pay thousands of dollars for a Stradivarius or Cremona violin? Not because of its age, but because of the quality of the tone he can bring out on that instrument, which is impossible on other makes of violins. The fashioners of these old instruments possessed a secret of treating or seasoning the wood that gave to their products a tone quality the violin-makers of to-day endeavor in vain to reproduce. This treatment affected the texture of the wood, and hence the quality.

To him who plays upon the human instrument of the voice, is given a great advantage over other artists. He can change the quality of his tone almost at will, while they can only approximate these changes. The tone as it comes from the vocal bands is comparatively colorless, but the size and shape of the reinforcing cavities (the larynx, pharynx, mouth, and nares), and the texture of their membranes, determine the quality of the tone that reaches the ear. Now, the size and shape of some of these can be changed at will, and are often modified unconsciously by emotion. The same may be said of the texture of the surface against which the tone impinges as it comes from the larynx. The shape of the nares and the texture of its membrane are virtually fixed, as is the texture of the roof of the mouth and the pharynx. Herein is the explanation of the individuality of voices. But the shape of the mouth and of the pharynx may be considerably modified by the action of the tongue, the raising, lowering, or contracting of the larynx, and the movements of the soft palate. It is, therefore, clear that the quality of the voice is partly fixed and partly changeable.

Before we proceed to discuss the effect of emotion upon the quality, we must first recognize that voice defects are of three kinds: (1) Those arising from disease or accident, such as catarrh, obstructions in the nose, enlarged tonsils, broken nose, and many others. These require medical or surgical treatment. (2) Those arising from congenital defects, which can be only partially removed, such as cleft palate, abnormally narrow nares, and the like. (3) Those arising out of the temperament of the man and the improper use of his voice.

It should now be plain that when we say that emotion affects the quality of the tone, we mean the peculiar quality of a particular man. If a speaker’s voice is nasal, we do not claim that that quality is expressive of any emotion. On the contrary, nasal quality is the distinguishing characteristic of his voice, but that quality can be modified by emotion. In other words, there can be a nasal-tender quality, or a nasal-harsh quality, the tender or harsh feeling accounting for the difference.

Paul Heyse has said, “The voice is the man.” What did he mean by that? He did not mean that a throaty voice indicated one temperament, and a nasal voice another, but that the emotional man, the spiritual man, has a certain texture of muscle. This texture affects the quality of his natural voice, whatever that voice may be, and consequently the quality of the voice manifests the man. If we will interpret this dictum broadly, no fault will be found with it. Who does not recognize the blustering man by his bellowing tone? the fawning hypocrite by his oily quality? the aggressive, assertive individual by his harsh guttural? In all probability, Heyse meant more than quality, in the sense in which we use it here; but granting this, his saying is of very wide application even in this restricted realm.

How does emotion affect the quality of the voice? Emotion is essentially a muscular condition. This condition is determined by the amount of nervous energy sent to the muscles, and this energy determines the muscular texture. Tender emotions mean tender texture, a relaxed condition of the muscles; while harsh quality is the result not only of throat contraction (change in the shape of the reinforcing cavity) but of constricted muscle, harsh texture. This is all there is to the philosophy of “Quality.”

Dr. Rush, in his _Philosophy of the Human Voice_, has named many of these qualities. He calls them Normal, Orotund, Guttural, Pectoral, Falsetto, and so on; and mentions the emotional conditions that manifest themselves through these various forms. On the whole, his classification is sound; but there is one gross error, due either to himself or his followers, that must be considered here. The Orotund (the enlarged natural) quality is more than a loud voice. It is a full voice with a quality that cannot better be described than by the term richness. Many students have endeavored to obtain this quality by shouting, or by holding the mouth as if gaping, and have developed only loudness without a trace of soulfulness, or merely a round, hollow hot-potato-in-the-throat kind of voice. There is no objection to the use of the term Orotund to characterize that rich, full tone suggestive of deep, full, enlarged feeling; but we must bear in mind that loudness is not only not necessary for the Orotund, but is often no part of it at all. The Orotund, as we have said, is that quality of which the main characteristics are roundness and richness. One who is restricted is not likely to use this quality. It can come only when there is the utmost freedom of the entire vocal region. When we have removed the tension which may be “the man,” or the result of bad vocal training, we shall get that enlarged quality, which should not, as is so often the case, manifest merely the larger emotional states, but should be the natural voice of the speaker. The Orotund manifests dignity above all else; it manifests the large, grand spirit. Of course, we do not mean an affected Orotund, but an easy, large, unrestricted quality showing the largeness of the soul behind it. To develop this quality, let the student use his imagination. Let him dwell for a long time upon the sublimity and grandeur of such passages as follow. Then let him abandon himself to the emotion aroused through his contemplation, and in time the genuine Orotund will come. And so only can it come. So important is this phase of the subject that we repeat: The tone expressive of elevated feeling “cannot be mechanically produced, or manufactured independently of the general mental and physical conditions.” The imagination must lead, otherwise we shall have big voices without big quality. That peculiar quality expressive of enlarged feeling is not necessarily loud. In fact, the voice may not be strong, but, at the same time, it may _suggest_ grandeur and sublimity far better than a voice that has sheer loudness. But, if the student will practice faithfully, he may be assured that his voice will receive more genuine training through these exercises than through a whole volume of _merely_ technical drills. Develop the imagination, the soul, and the voice will grow through the effort of the soul to go out in expression. But let him avoid mere shouting and vociferating, even if he never gets a voice.

If the student has not the imagination, he must develop it. There are many loud voices, but few with soulful quality. But what avails this loudness? Certainly it enables one to be heard above the din of voices and the roar of the waves, but it never stirs the nobler emotions of an audience; and unless one can do that he is anything but an orator. Mere loudness is rant--nothing less.

Many students, for one reason or another, either have no ability to express elevated feeling in public, or repress it through diffidence or shyness. Let such remember that we are constantly experiencing and expressing this feeling in our everyday life; that it is simply an enlargement of a more or less commonplace feeling; and let him begin with the simple examples that are set down first. Any one can say, What a lovely day this is! Well, that is a mild form of elevated feeling. Let him imagine it is graduation day, and that rain had been threatening to fall all the previous night. It is daylight now; and as he opens his eyes and looks up at the cloudless sky, will he not exclaim with elevated feeling, What a glorious day we’re going to have!

By “elevated feelings” one must not understand those only that are serious and solemn. Whenever the imagination is enkindled by the contemplation of what is large, dignified, grand, sublime, the emotions are stirred, and find expression in enlarged, soulful quality.

Ay, every inch a king.

Think of it! a building that could hold a hundred thousand people!

Here will be their greatest triumph.

Who shall put asunder the best affections of the heart?

We loved the land of our adoption!

A good name is better than precious ointment.

Gird up thy loins now, like a man.

Comfort ye my people.

O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain!

He is as honest a man as ever breathed.

Search creation round, where will you find a country that presents so sublime a spectacle, so interesting an anticipation?

Most of all, fellow-citizens, if your sons ask whose example they shall imitate, what will you say? For you know well it is not music, nor the gymnasiums, nor the schools, that mold young men; it is much more the public proclamations, the public example. If you take one whose life has no high purpose, one who mocks at morals, and crown him in the theater, every boy who sees it is corrupted. When a bad man suffers his deserts, the people learn; on the contrary, when a man VOTES AGAINST WHAT IS NOBLE AND JUST, and then comes home to teach his son, the boy will very promptly say, “Your lesson is impertinent and a bore.” Beware, therefore, Athenians, remembering posterity will rejudge your judgment, and that the character of a city is determined by the character of the men it crowns.

Right forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne; But that scaffold sways the future, and behind the dim unknown Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own.

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O UNION, strong and great! Humanity, with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years Is hanging breathless on thy fate! We know what Master laid thy keel, What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge, and what a heat, Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!

Fear not each sudden sound and shock; ’Tis of the wave, and not the rock; ’Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale! In spite of rock and tempest’s roar, In spite of false lights on the shore, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee: Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o’er our fears, Are all with thee,--are all with thee!

--_The Ship of State._ LONGFELLOW.

See what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion’s curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man.

--_Hamlet_, Act iii., Sc. 4.

Awake, my soul! Not only passive praise Thou owest; not alone these swelling tears, Mute thanks, and secret ecstasy. Awake, Voice of sweet song! Awake my heart, Awake! Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my hymn!

--COLERIDGE.

And the evening star was shining On Schehallion’s distant head, When we wiped our bloody broadswords, And returned to count the dead. There we found him, gashed and gory, Stretched upon the cumbered plain, As he told us where to seek him, In the thickest of the slain. And a smile was on his visage, For within his dying ear Pealed the joyful note of triumph, And the clansman’s clamorous cheer: So, amidst the battle’s thunder, Shot, and steel, and scorching flame, In the glory of his manhood Passed the spirit of the Græme!

Open wide the vaults of Atholl, Where the bones of heroes rest,-- Open wide the hallowed portals To receive another guest! Last of Scots and last of freemen,-- Last of all that dauntless race, Who would rather die unsullied Than outlive the land’s disgrace!

--AYTOUN.

Bury the great Duke With an empire’s lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior’s pall, And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.

Where shall we lay the man whom we deplore? Here, in streaming London’s central roar, Let the sound of those he wrought for, And the feet of those he fought for, Echo round his bones forevermore.

Lead out the pageant: sad and slow, As fits a universal woe, Let the long, long procession go, And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, And let the mournful martial music blow; The last great Englishman is low.

All is over and done: Render thanks to the Giver, England, for thy son. Let the bell be toll’d. Render thanks to the Giver, And render him to the mold. Under the cross of gold That shines over city and river, There he shall rest forever Among the wise and the bold. Let the bell be toll’d: And a reverent people behold The towering car, the sable steeds: Bright let it be with his blazon’d deeds Dark in its funeral fold, Let the bell be toll’d: And a deeper knell in the heart be knoll’d; And the sound of the sorrowing anthem roll’d Thro’ the dome of the golden cross; And the volleying cannon thunder his loss; He knew their voices of old. For many a time in many a clime His captain’s ear has heard them boom, Bellowing victory, bellowing doom: When he with those deep voices wrought, Guarding realms and kings from shame; With those deep voices our dead captain taught The tyrant, and asserts his claim In that dread sound to the great name Which he has worn so pure of blame, In praise and in dispraise the same, A man of well-attemper’d frame. O civic Muse, to such a name, To such a name for ages long, To such a name, Preserve a broad approach of fame, And ever-echoing avenues of song.

--_Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington._ TENNYSON.

Venerable men! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. Behold, how altered! The same heavens are indeed above your heads; the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else how changed!

You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed volume of smoke and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground strewed with the dead and dying; the impetuous charge; the steady and successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in war and death; all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more.

All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and countrymen in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population come out to welcome and greet you with a universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoyance to you, but your country’s own means of destruction and defense.--WEBSTER.

What lesson shall those lips teach us? Before that still, calm brow let us take a new baptism. How can we stand here without a fresh and utter consecration? These tears! how shall we dare even to offer consolation? Only lips fresh from such a vow have the right to mingle their words with your tears. We envy you your nearer place to these martyred children of God. I do not believe slavery will go down in blood. Ours is an age of thought. Hearts are stronger than swords. That last fortnight! How sublime its lesson! the Christian one of conscience,--of truth. Virginia is weak, because each man’s heart said amen to John Brown. His words,--they are stronger even than his rifles. These crushed a State. Those have changed the thoughts of millions, and will yet crush slavery. Men said, “Would he had died in arms!” God ordered better, and granted to him and the slave those noble prison hours,--that single hour of death; granted him a higher than the soldier’s place,--that of teacher; the echoes of his rifles have died away in the hills,--a million hearts guard his words. God bless this roof,--make it bless us. We dare not say bless you, children of this home! you stand nearer to one whose lips God touched, and we rather bend for your blessings. God make us all worthier of him whose dust we lay among these hills he loved. Here he girded himself and went forth to battle. Fuller success than his heart ever dreamed God granted him. He sleeps in the blessings of the crushed and the poor, and men believe more firmly in virtue, now that such a man has lived. Standing here, let us thank God for a firmer faith and fuller hope.--WENDELL PHILLIPS.

A great deal of space has been given to the preceding illustrations because the quality necessary to express the emotions in those selections is very rare. Rare for two reasons: first, because we dwell so much of the time in the realm of the so-called practical that we lose interest in the sublimer aspects presented in poetry; and, secondly, we do not express these larger emotions freely and often. Expression, like all other powers, comes through practice.

The second distinct quality is what has been called the Normal. This is the voice of everyday life, the voice in which we carry on the conversation of the home, the schoolroom, and the business of life generally. We need no special practice in this quality, but it is well to recognize it in order that we may compare with it the other qualities. The following extract would be expressed in Normal quality.

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines. And do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus; but use all gently: for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. Oh, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious, periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o’erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: pray you avoid it.

Be not too tame either, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special observance, that you o’erstep not the modesty of Nature; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to Nature, to show Virtue her own feature, Scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of the which one must, in your allowance, o’erweigh a whole theater of others. Oh, there be players that I have seen play--and heard others praise, and that highly--not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, or man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of Nature’s journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.--_Hamlet_, Act iii., Sc. 2.

In a work which makes no pretension to cover the whole realm of elocution, it would be out of place to discuss the more extravagant forms of emotion, such as terror, rage, hate, and the like. In order, however, to give this phase of the subject a certain approximation to complete treatment, it may be well to touch upon these abnormal emotional states and the respective qualities in which they find expression.

There is a wide range of feeling that so affects the action of the vocal apparatus as to produce a breathy tone. It would be idle and misleading to enumerate all the occasions upon which we might expect to hear this aspirated voice. Suffice it that a sense of oppression resulting from any one of many causes: the desire not to be overheard; the weakness of old age and disease--any of these conditions may produce the aspirated tone. Aspiration does not manifest any one emotion, but may accompany many. There may be considerable aspiration mixed with the expression of joy, as well as with the expression of hate or despair. It is well to bear this in mind, for many text books give the “Aspirated Quality” as a specific kind of voice manifesting specific emotions and those only. When we observe that this quality is found in awe, terror, hate, and like emotions; in debility; and when we wish to whisper; the unscientific nature of such a classification becomes sufficiently clear. A few examples are appended:

St! Don’t make any noise: he’s asleep.

Walk softly: I think they’re listening.

Go away! I hate you.

Oh! I’m so tired; help me along.

How can I tell him the truth! There is no hope.

“Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!” Were the last words of Marmion.

O horror! horror! horror! Tongue, nor heart, cannot conceive, nor name thee!

Measureless liar!

Spare me, great God! Lift up my drooping brow; I am content to die; but, oh, not now.

I pray you, give me leave to go hence; I am not well.

Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die for food! Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master.

How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here? I think it is the weakness of my eyes That shapes this monstrous apparition. It comes upon me. Art thou any thing? Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, That mak’st my blood cold, and my hair to stare?-- Speak to me what thou art.

--_Julius Caesar_, Act iv., Sc. 3.

LADY MACBETH. Alack! I am afraid they have awak’d, And ’tis not done. The attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us. Hark!--I laid their daggers ready, He could not miss them.--Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done ’t. My husband! MACBETH. I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? LADY MACBETH. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry. Did you not speak? MACBETH. When? LADY MACBETH. Now. MACBETH. As I descended? LADY MACBETH. Ay. MACBETH. Hark! Who lies i’ th’ second chamber? LADY MACBETH. Donalbain. MACBETH. This is a sorry sight. [_Looking at his hands._ LADY MACBETH. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. MACBETH. There’s one did laugh in ’s sleep, And one cried, “Murder!” that they did wake each other; I stood and heard them: but they did say their prayers, And address’d them again to sleep.

--_Macbeth_, Act ii., Sc. 2.

Stern, severe, harsh feelings have a tendency to contract the throat; hence, we get a quality that is called the Guttural. It is heard only where the passion grips the throat.

Mend, and change home, Or by the fires of heaven, I’ll leave the foe, And make me wars on you: look to ’t: Come on!

“Curse on him!” quoth false Sextus: “Will not the villain drown? But for this stay, ere close of day We should have sacked the town!”

Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne’er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont, Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne’er look back, ne’er ebb to humble love, Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. Now, by yond’ marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow I here engage my words.

--_Othello_, Act iii., Sc. 3.

Blow winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts and hurricanes, spout Till you have drench’d our steeples, drown’d the cocks! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o’ the world! Crack Nature’s molds, all germens spill at once, That make ungrateful man!

--_King Lear_, Act iii., Sc. 2.

There are two opposite qualities of voice well known to singers: the bright, ringing tone, and the dark, sombre, covered tone. This distinction is, for the purposes of the public-school teacher, far more valuable than most others. Joy, happiness, buoyancy, exuberance, are likely, when there are no marked physical defects, to find expression in the bright tone; while sorrow and the moods of introspection may often modify the texture of the vibrating substances so as to produce the darker quality.

EXTRACTS TO ILLUSTRATE “DARK” QUALITY.

KING. O, my offense is rank, it smells to Heaven; It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t, A brother’s murder! Pray can I not: Though inclination be as sharp as will, My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursèd hand Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood, Is there not rain enough in the sweet Heavens To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy But to confront the visage of offense? And what’s in prayer but this twofold force,-- To be forestallèd ere we come to fall, Or pardon’d being down? Then I’ll look up; My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer Can serve my turn? _Forgive me my foul murder?_ That cannot be; since I am still possess’d Of these effects for which I did the murder, My crown, mine own ambition, and my Queen. May one be pardoned and retain th’ offense?...

--_Hamlet_, Act iii., Sc. 3.

Alas! my noble boy! that thou shouldst die! Thou who wert made so beautifully fair! That death should settle in thy glorious eye, And leave his stillness in this clustering hair! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb, My proud boy, Absalom!

Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill As to my bosom I have tried to press thee! How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill Like a rich harp-string yearning to caress thee, And hear thy sweet “_my father!_” from those dumb And cold lips, Absalom!

But death is on thee! I shall hear the gush Of music, and the voices of the young; And life will pass me in the mantling blush, And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung;-- But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come To meet me, Absalom!

And oh! when I am stricken, and my heart, Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart, Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token! It were so sweet, amid death’s gathering gloom, To see thee, Absalom!

--_David’s Lament over Absalom._ N. P. WILLIS.

LEAR. You Heavens, give me patience,--patience I need! You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both! If it be you that stir these daughters’ hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger; And let not women’s weapons, water-drops, Stain my man’s cheeks!--No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall--I will do such things,-- What they are, yet I know not; but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think I’ll weep; No, I’ll not weep: I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or e’er I’ll weep.--O Fool, I shall go mad!

--_King Lear_, Act ii., Sc. 4.

EXAMPLES TO ILLUSTRATE “BRIGHT” QUALITY.

GRATIANO. Let me play the fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio-- I love thee, and it is my love that speaks-- There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a willful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, As who should say, “I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!” O my Antonio, I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing, who, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, fools. I’ll tell thee more of this another time: But fish not, with this melancholy bait, For this fool gudgeon, this opinion. Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile: I’ll end my exhortation after dinner.

--_The Merchant of Venice_, Act i., Sc. 1.

She mounts her chariot with a trice, Nor would she stay for no advice, Until her maids, that were so nice, To wait on her were fitted. But ran herself away alone; Which when they heard, there was not one But hasted after to be gone, As she had been diswitted.

Hop, and Mop, and Drap so clear, Pip, and Trip, and Ship, that were To Mab their sovereign dear, Her special maids of honor; Fib, and Tib, and Pinck, and Pin, Tick, and Quick, and Jill, and Jin, Tit, and Nit, and Wap, and Win, The train that wait upon her.

Upon a grasshopper they got, And what with amble and with trot, For hedge nor ditch they spared not, But after her they hie them. A cobweb over them they throw, To shield the wind if it should blow, Themselves they wisely could bestow, Lest any should espy them.

--_Queen Mab._ DRAYTON.

Cheer answer cheer, and bear the cheer about. Hurrah, hurrah, for the fiery fort is ours! “Victory, victory, victory!”

Hear the sledges with the bells,--silver bells; What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells,-- From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

--_The Bells._ POE.

PEDAGOGICAL ASPECTS.

For the third time, it is well to be reminded that drills in the elements of expression as such have no place in public-school training. Perhaps in no part of the work is more care necessary than in the development of the pupil’s power to express feeling. If we were discussing methods of teaching elocution outside of the public school, the author would be compelled to protest strongly against a prevalent practice of endeavoring to develop the different vocal qualities apart from the emotion that produces these qualities. But the difficulty in public-school methods is that they pay comparatively little attention to emotional expression. As a general thing, so educators say, there is either no feeling (“no expression,” some put it), or, what is worse, there is a palpable affectation of feeling. Somehow, it has come to be considered “girlish” for a boy to put feeling into his reading, especially tender feeling; and for the girl to do so is considered a sure indication of weakness. The atmosphere of the school-room is not conducive to the development of emotional power, and if, by any chance, a shoot should peep out of the soil, it dies for want of light and warmth. Emotion in itself is a good thing, when properly guided; but we need emotion in reading because it is a sign that the pupil can be moved by the contemplation of the noble, the tender, the true. It is a sign that the children have that precious gift of imagination. Where there is no opportunity for the expression of feeling, there must result a great loss in expressive power and eventually in power of imagination. Such a loss is irremediable, for there follows in its wake inability to appreciate the finer breath and spirit of literature.

Our public schools, except in particularly favored districts, can do very little towards training the voices of the pupils. Even when there are special teachers the best results are found not so much in the voices as in the ability to read music. To train the human voice requires genius and much particular training, and we cannot expect that school communities will appoint such teachers for many, many generations. But development of the child’s powers of expression through the stimulation of his imagination and emotions will do wonders for his voice. So that here we have a third reason for pleading so earnestly for more careful attention to this aspect of vocal expression. One hears so often the excuse, “Oh, he hasn’t any voice; that’s why he can’t read.” The author believes with that great specialist in the child voice, William L. Tomlins, that, except when there are serious structural defects, the imagination and soul will make a voice. Let it be remarked, that the claim is not made that vocal training is unnecessary. But when we look at the conditions that make impossible the appointment of skilled specialists in voice, we give up in despair of effecting for some time to come any radical change. Further, a good voice does not imply a good reader. Since, then, we can not get the voice teacher; and since, when we can, we are not assured he will develop good expressionists, it should be a great stimulus to the conscientious teacher to learn that the very highest quality of the voice, soulfulness, may be developed through stimulation of the imagination. And, further, let us note that expression that comes in this way can never be affected.

The teacher now knows that emotion affects the quality of tone. Let him then use this knowledge as he has learned to use his knowledge of the other criteria. We recognize instinctively the quality that expresses sorrow, tenderness, joy and the other states of feeling. When the proper quality does not appear it is because the child has no feeling or the wrong feeling--generally the former. There is but one way to correct the expression, i. e., by stimulating the imagination.

This is a most difficult task, but that fact does not excuse us from attempting it. In Part II this feature will be treated at length.