Chapter 4

1. Under a spreading chestnut tree, The village smithy stands'; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands'; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.

2. There is something in the thunder's voice that makes me tremble like a child. I have tried to conquer' this unmanly weakness'. I have called pride' to my aid'; I have sought for moral courage in the lessons of philosophy', but it avails me nothing'. At the first moaning of the distant cloud, my heart shrinks and dies within me.

3. He taught the scholars the Rule of Three', Reading, and writing, and history', too'; He took the little ones on his knee', For a kind old heart in his breast had he', And the wants of the littlest child he knew'. "Learn while you're young'," he often said', "There is much to enjoy down here below'; Life for the living', and rest for the dead'," Said the jolly old pedagogue' long ago'.

Low Pitch. (48)

1. O, proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fear: This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, Impostors to true fear, would well become A woman's story at a winter's fire. Authorized by her grandam.

2. Thou slave! thou wretch! thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villainy! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou fortune's champion, thou dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety! Thou art perjured too, And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool; to brag, and stamp, and sweat, Upon my party! thou cold-blooded slave!

3. God! thou art mighty! At thy footstool bound, Lie, gazing to thee, Chance, and Life, and Death; Nor in the angel circle flaming round, Nor in the million worlds that blaze beneath, Is one that can withstand thy wrath's hot breath. Woe, in thy frown: in thy smile, victory: Hear my last prayer! I ask no mortal wreath; Let but these eyes my rescued country see, Then take my spirit, all Omnipotent, to thee.

4. O Thou eternal One! whose presence bright All space doth occupy, all motion guide, Unchanged through time's all-devastating blight! Thou only God, there is no god beside! Being above all things, mighty One, Whom none can comprehend and none explore; Who fill'st existence with thyself alone,-- Embracing all, supporting, ruling o'er,-- Being whom we call God, and know no more!

QUANTITY AND QUALITY. (49)

Quantity, in reading and speaking, means the length of time occupied in uttering a syllable or a word. Sounds and syllables vary greatly in quantity. Some are long, some short, and others intermediate between those which are long or short. Some sounds, also, may be prolonged or shortened in utterance to any desired extent. Quantity may be classified as Long, Medium, or Short.

DIRECTIONS FOR PRACTICE ON LONG QUANTITY.--Select some word of one syllable ending with a long vocal or a subvocal sound; pronounce it many times in succession, increasing the quantity at each repetition, until you can dwell upon it any desired length of time, without drawling, and in a natural tone.

REMARK.--Practice in accordance with this direction will enable the pupil to secure that fullness and roundness of voice which is exemplified in the hailing of a ship, "ship aho--y;" in the reply of the sailor, when, in the roar of the storm, he answers his captain, "ay--e. ay--e;" and in the command of the officer to his troops, when, amid the thunder of artillery, he gives the order, "ma--rch," or "ha--lt."

This fullness or roundness of tone is secured, by dwelling on the vocal sound, and indefinitely protracting it, The mouth should be opened wide, the tongue kept down, and the aperture left as round and as free for the voice as possible.

It is this artificial rotundity which, in connection with a distinct articulation, enables one who speaks in the open air, or in a very large apartment, to send his voice to the most distant point. It is a certain degree of this quality, which distinguishes declamatory or public speaking or reading from private conversation, and no one can accomplish much, as a public speaker, without cultivating it. It must be carefully distinguished from the "high tone," which is an elevation of pitch, and from "loudness." or "strength" of voice.

It will be observed that clearness and distinctness of utterance are secured by a proper use of the subvocals and aspirates--these sounds giving to words their shape, as it were; but a clear, full, and well-modulated utterance of the vocals gives to words their fullness.

LONG QUANTITY. (49)

1. Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!

2. Woe, woe, to the inhabitants of Jerusalem!

3. O righteous Heaven! ere Freedom found a grave, Why slept the sword, omnipotent to save? Where was thine arm, O Vengeance! where thy rod, That smote the foes of Zion and of God?

4. O sailor boy! sailor boy! never again Shall home, love, or kindred thy wishes repay; Unblessed and unhonored, down deep in the main, Full many a fathom, thy frame shall decay.

5. O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who hast set thy glory above the heavens! When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers; the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honor. Thou madest him to have dominion over the work of thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet. O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!

MEDIUM QUANTITY. (50)

1. Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose; The spectacles set them, unhappily, wrong; The point in dispute was, as all the world knows, To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

2. Bird of the broad and sweeping wing! Thy home is high in heaven, Where the wide storms their banners fling, And the tempest clouds are driven.

3. At midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk lay dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power.

4. On New Year's night, an old man stood at his window, and looked, with a glance of fearful despair, up the immovable, unfading heaven, and down upon the still, pure, white earth, on which no one was now so joyless and sleepless as he.

SHORT QUANTITY. (51)

1. Quick! or he faints! stand with the cordial near!

2. Back to thy punishment, false fugitive!

3. Fret till your proud heart breaks! Must I observe you? Must I crouch beneath your testy humor?

4. Up drawbridge, grooms! what, warder, ho! Let the portcullis fall!

5. Quick, man the lifeboat! see yon bark, That drives before the blast! There's a rock ahead, the fog is dark, And the storm comes thick and fast.

6. I am at liberty, like every other man, to use my own language; and though, perhaps, I may have some ambition to please this gentleman, I shall not by myself under any restraint, nor very solicitously copy his diction, or his mien, however matured by age or modeled by experience.

MOVEMENT. (51)

Movement is the rapidity with which the voice moves in reading and speaking. It varies with the nature of the thought or sentiment to be expressed, and should be increased or diminished as good taste may determine. With pupils generally, the tendency is to read too fast. The result is, reading or speaking in too high a key and an unnatural style of delivery--both of which faults are difficult to be corrected when once formed. The kinds of movement are Slow, Moderate, and Quick.

DIRECTIONS.--Read a selection as slowly us possible, without drawling. Read it again and again, increasing the rate of movement at each reading, until it can be read no faster without the utterance becoming indistinct. Reverse this process, reading more and more slowly at each repetition, until the slowest movement is obtained.

SLOW MOVEMENT. (52)

1. Oh that those lips had language! Life has passed With me but roughly, since I heard them last.

2. A tremulous sigh from the gentle night wind Through the forest leaves slowly is creeping, While stars up above, with their glittering eyes, Keep guard; for the army is sleeping.

3. O Lord'! have mercy upon us, miserable offenders'!

4. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

MODERATE MOVEMENT. (52)

1. The good', the brave', the beautiful', How dreamless' is their sleep, Where rolls the dirge-like music' Of the over-tossing deep'! Or where the surging night winds Pale Winter's robes have spread Above the narrow palaces, In the cities of the dead'!

2. Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time.

3. Cast your eyes over this extensive country. Observe the salubrity of your climate, the variety and fertility of your soil; and see that soil intersected in every quarter by bold, navigable streams, flowing to the east and to the west, as if the finger of heaven were marking out the course of your settlements, inviting you to enterprise, and pointing the way to wealth.

QUICK MOVEMENT. (53)

1. Awake'! arise'! or be forever fallen.

2. Merrily swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name.

3. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace-- Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup and set the pique right, Rebuckled the check strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.

4. Oh my dear uncle, you don't know the effect of a fine spring morning upon a fellow just arrived from Russia. The day looked bright, trees budding, birds singing, the park so gay, that I took a leap out of your balcony, made your deer fly before me like the wind, and chased them all around the park to get an appetite for breakfast, while you were snoring in bed, uncle.

Quality.--We notice a difference between the soft, insinuating tones of persuasion; the full, strong voice of command and decision; the harsh, irregular, and sometimes grating explosion of the sounds of passion; the plaintive notes of sorrow and pity; and the equable and unimpassioned flow of words in argumentative style. This difference consists in a variation in the quality of the voice by which it is adapted to the character of the thought or sentiment read or spoken. In our attempts to imitate nature, however, it is important that all affectation be avoided, for perfect monotony is preferable to this fault. The tones of the voice should be made to correspond with the nature of the subject, without apparent effort.

EXAMPLES. (54)

Passion and Grief

"Come back! come back!" he cried, in grief, "Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter! O, my daughter!"

Plaintive

I have lived long enough: my way of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf: And that which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have.

Calm

A very great portion of this globe is covered with water, which is called sea, and is very distinct from rivers and lakes.

Fierce Anger

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, And shook his very frame for ire; And--"This to me!" he said,-- "An 't were not for thy hoary beard, Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas' head!

Loud and Explosive

"Even in thy pitch of pride, Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near, I tell thee, thou 'rt defied! And if thou said'st I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"

VI. GESTURE. (55)

Gesture is that part of the speaker's manner which pertains to his attitude, to the use and carriage of his person, and the movement of his limbs in delivery.

Every person, in beginning to speak, feels the natural embarrassment resulting from his new position. The novelty of the situation destroys his self-possession, and, with the loss of that, he becomes awkward, his arms and hands hang clumsily, and now, for the first time, seem to him worse than superfluous members. This embarrassment will be overcome gradually, as the speaker becomes familiar with his position; and it is sometimes overcome at once, by a powerful exercise of the attention upon the matter of the speech. When that fills and possesses the mind, the orator is likely to take the attitude which is becoming, and, at least, easy and natural, if not graceful.

1st. The first general direction that should be given to the speaker is, that he should stand erect and firm, and in that posture which gives an expanded chest and full play to the organs of respiration and utterance.

2d. Let the attitude be such that it can be shifted easily and gracefully. The student will find, by trial, that no attitude is so favorable to this end as that in which the weight of the body is thrown upon one leg, leaving the other free to be advanced or thrown back, as fatigue or the proper action of delivery may require.

The student who has any regard to grace or elegance, will of course avoid all the gross faults which are so common among public speakers, such as resting one foot upon a stool or bench, or throwing the body forward upon the support of the rostrum.

3d. Next to attitude, come the movements of the person and limbs. In these, two objects are to be observed, and, if possible, combined, viz., propriety and grace. There is expression in the extended arm, the clinched hand, the open palm, and the smiting of the breast. But let no gesture be made that is not in harmony with the thought or sentiment uttered; for it is this harmony which constitutes propriety. As far as possible, let there be a correspondence between the style of action and the train of thought. Where the thought flows on calmly, let there be grace and ease in gesture and action. Where the style is sharp and abrupt, there is propriety in quick, short, and abrupt gesticulation. Especially avoid that ungraceful sawing of the air with the arms, into which all ill-regulated fervor betrays many young speakers.

What is called graceful manner, can only be attained by those who have some natural advantages of person. So far as it is in the reach of study or practice, it seems to depend chiefly upon the general cultivation of manners, implying freedom from all embarrassments, and entire self-possession. The secret of acquiring a graceful style of gesture, we apprehend, lies in the habitual practice, not only when speaking but at all times, of free and graceful movements of the limbs.

There is no limb nor feature which the accomplished speaker will not employ with effect, in the course of a various and animated delivery. The arms, however, are the chief reliance of the orator in gesture; and it will not be amiss to give a hint or two in reference to their proper use.

First--It is not an uncommon fault to use one arm exclusively, and to give that a uniform movement. Such movement may, sometimes, have become habitual from one's profession or employment; but in learners, also, there is often a predisposition to this fault.

Second--It is not unusual to see a speaker use only the lower half of his arm. This always gives a stiff and constrained manner to delivery. Let the whole arm move, and let the movement be free and flowing.

Third--As a general rule, let the hand be open, with the fingers slightly curved. It then seems liberal, communicative, and candid; and, in some degree, gives that expression to the style of delivery. Of course there are passages which require the clinched hand, the pointed finger, etc., etc.; but these are used to give a particular expression.

Fourth--In the movements of the arm, study variety and the grace of curved lines.

When a gesture is made with one arm only, the eye should be cast in the direction of that arm; not at it, but over it.

All speakers employ, more or less, the motions of the head. In reference to that member, we make but one observation. Avoid the continuous shaking and bobbing of the head, which is so conspicuous in the action of many ambitious public speakers.

The beauty and force of all gesture consist in its timely, judicious, and natural employment, when it can serve to illustrate the meaning or give emphasis to the force of an important passage. The usual fault of young speakers is too much action. To emphasize all parts alike, is equivalent to no emphasis; and by employing forcible gestures on unimportant passages, we diminish our power to render other parts impressive.

ELOCUTION AND READING. (57)

The business of training youth in elocution, must be commenced in childhood. The first school is the nursery. There, at least, may be formed a distinct articulation, which is the first requisite for good speaking. How rarely is it found in perfection among our orators.

"Words," says one, referring to articulation, should "be delivered out from the lips, as beautiful coins, newly issued from the mint; deeply and accurately impressed, perfectly finished; neatly struck by the proper organs, distinct, in due succession, and of due weight." How rarely do we hear a speaker whose tongue, teeth, and lips, do their office so perfectly as to answer to this beautiful description! And the common faults in articulation, it should be remembered, take their rise from the very nursery.

Grace in eloquence, in the pulpit, at the bar, can not be separated from grace in the ordinary manners, in private life, in the social circle, in the family. It can not well be superinduced upon all the other acquisitions of youth, any more than that nameless, but invaluable, quality called good breeding. Begin, therefore, the work of forming the orator with the child; not merely by teaching him to declaim, but what is of more consequence, by observing and correcting his daily manners, motions, and attitudes. You can say, when he comes into your apartment, or presents you with something, a book or letter, in an awkward and blundering manner, "Return, and enter this room again," or, "Present me that book in a different manner," or, "Put yourself in a different attitude." You can explain to him the difference between thrusting or pushing out his hand and arm, in straight lines and at acute angles, and moving them in flowing circular lines, and easy graceful action. He will readily understand you. Nothing is more true than that the motions of children are originally graceful; it is by suffering them to be perverted, that we lay the foundation of invincible awkwardness in later life.

In schools for children, it ought to be a leading object to teach the art of reading. It ought to occupy threefold more time than it does. The teachers of these schools should labor to improve themselves. They should feel that to them, for a time, are committed the future orators of the land.

It is better that a girl should return from school a first-rate reader, than a first-rate performer on the pianoforte. The accomplishment, in its perfection, would give more pleasure. The voice of song is not sweeter than the voice of eloquence; and there may be eloquent readers, as well as eloquent speakers. We speak of perfection in this art: and it is something, we must say in defense of our preference, which we have never yet seen. Let the same pains be devoted to reading, as are required to form an accomplished performer on an instrument; let us have, as the ancients had, the formers of the voice, the music masters of the reading voice; let us see years devoted to this accomplishment, and then we should be prepared to stand the comparison.

Reading is indeed, a most intellectual accomplishment. So is music, too, in its perfection. We do by no means undervalue this noble and most delightful art, to which Socrates applied himself even in his old age. But one recommendation of the art of reading is, that it requires a constant exercise of mind. It involves, in its perfection, the whole art of criticism on language. A man may possess a fine genius without being a perfect reader; but he can not be a perfect reader without genius.

ON MODULATION. (59)

FROM LLOYD.

'T is not enough the voice' be sound and clear', 'T is modulation' that must charm the ear. When desperate heroes grieve with tedious moan, And whine their sorrows in a seesaw tone, The same soft sounds of unimpassioned woes, Can only make the yawning hearers doze.

The voice all modes of passion can express That marks the proper word with proper stress: But none emphatic can that speaker call, Who lays an equal emphasis on all.

Some o'er the tongue the labored measure roll, Slow and deliberate as the parting toll; Point every stop, mark every pause so strong, Their words like stage processions stalk along.

All affectation but creates disgust; And e'en in speaking, we may seem too just. In vain for them' the pleasing measure flows, Whose recitation runs it all to prose: Repeating what the poet sets not down, The verb disjointing from its favorite noun, While pause, and break, and repetition join To make it discord in each tuneful line'.

Some' placid natures fill the allotted scene With lifeless drawls, insipid and serene; While others' thunder every couplet o'er, And almost crack your ears with rant and roar; More nature oft, and finer strokes are shown In the low whisper than tempestuous tone; And Hamlet's hollow voice and fixed amaze, More powerful terror to the mind conveys Than he, who, swollen with impetuous rage, Bullies the bulky phantom of the stage.

He who, in earnest studies o'er his part, Will find true nature cling about his heart. The modes of grief are not included all In the white handkerchief and mournful drawl: A single look' more marks the internal woe, Than all the windings of the lengthened Oh'!

MCGUFFEY'S SIXTH READER. (61)

MCGUFFEY'S SIXTH READER. (63)

SELECTIONS FOR READING.

I. ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE.

A laughable story was circulated during the administration of the old Duke of Newcastle, and retailed to the public in various forms. This nobleman, with many good points, was remarkable for being profuse of his promises on all occasions, and valued himself particularly on being able to anticipate the words or the wants of the various persons who attended his levees, before they uttered a word. This sometimes led him into ridiculous embarrassment; and it was this proneness to lavish promises, which gave occasion for the following anecdote:

At the election of a certain borough in Cornwall, where the opposite interests were almost equally poised, a single vote was of the highest importance. This object the Duke, by well applied argument and personal application, at length attained; and the gentleman he recommended, gained the election. In the warmth of gratitude, his grace poured forth acknowledgments and promises without ceasing, on the fortunate possessor of the casting vote; called him his best and dearest friend; protested, that he should consider himself as forever indebted to him; and that he would serve him by night or by day.