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9i£^mm

Tht Practical Trcainitrtt of'

STAMMERING
^ STUTTERING

GEORGE ANDREW LEWIS

And a Trcalite on

The Cultivation of the Voice

GEORGE B. HYNSON, M. A.
ILLUSTRATED

DETROIT

GEORGE AXDJiEil' LE ir/S

lq03

• • ; • '
•• ••' ,"

• * • •

« •

••

» •

• • •

COPYRIGHTED 19C»

GEORGE ANDREW LEWIS
[Ali rishis restrvedS

MAM BY

TMC WERNER COMPAHV

AKRON, OHIO

L4Z4
1902-

PREFACE

THIS book is the result of the labors of two teachers,
specialists in their respective departments, who
have been working for years in different branches of
the subject of human speech. One of the writers has
been occupied for many years in the stttdy of all forms
of speech defects and in effecting their cure; the
other has devoted his special attention to the higher
cultivation and development of voices considered nor-
mal for the purposes of speech.

In bringing together the ideas of independent in-
vestigators there is the danger that there may not
always be complete harmony either in theory or in
methods; but it is believed that this danger has been
largely avoided in the present volume, for the reason
that for a number of years the writers have been co-
laborers and have had every opportunity for a free
interchange of ideas; while each has worked inde-
pendently in his own field, yet there has been such
a close association that the ideas of one have always
been at the disposal of the other.

It will be granted that nothing is more vitally im-
portant to man than speech, and, if this be true, then
the most effective speech possible becomes desirable.
The writers have found through a long course of
special work that there are in this country several
(iii>

IV PREFACE

hundred thousand (probably one-quarter of a million)
persons with abnormal speech. By this we mean not
those lesser defects such as lisping and stumbling, but
real impediments to utterance such as stuttering and
stammering. Then, too, we have observed that there
is a woeful lack of knowledge on the part of the
public generally of the fundamental principles of
proper voice production. Public speakers are con-
stantly offending the ear by vocal expressions out of
harmony with the sentiment and in violation of the
principles of physiology and acoustics. The conver-
sational voice receives little attention, and multitudes
go through life with unpleasant or hampered utter-
ance which might be remedied by a little intelligent
thought and care.

Therefore this book, in attempting to treat of vocal
utterance, assumes a two-fold aspect — negative and
positive. It treats in the first part of those defects
of speech that are actual impediments, and in the
second part, of the cultivation of the ordinary voice
with a view to greater ease and effectiveness.

Its aim is practical and suggestive rather than tech-
nical. Much that is usually included in books of this
kind is omitted; some things for the reason that it
seems to us they are not sound, and many things be-
cause they cannot be made intelligible in print — re-
quiring the living teacher.

From the nature of the subjects treated it will be
observed that, in certain instances, in order to render
each part complete, both writers have considered the

■flll'l^ .

*■"'*

z b:c<

pr - "K

to til

CONTENTS
PART I

Prsfack iii

Introductory 15

Mental and Vocal Unity 18

Definitions - 33

Stammering and Stuttering 36

Difference -- 36

Susceptible Dispositions 28

Classification 31

Historical Treatment 50

Causes of Stammering 55

Stammering a Mental Difficulty 58

Characteristics 63

Stammering the Result of Many Causes 68

Heredity 76

Effect of Stammering -'---81

Irritating Causes -.- 84

Statistical Record 86

Table of Statistics 91

Treatment of Those Beginning to Stammer - - - - 95

Discipline — Mental, Moral, Physical 100

Method of Treatment ----- 10^

Moral Influences Beneficial 107

Stimxtlants — Exercise 114

Exercises 133

MeTHODS-OF-ATTACK -.-....-.---- 130

(vii)

VIU CONTENTS

PAOB

Method-of*Attack for Closed Consonaitts .... 134

Exercises 139

From Darkness to Light 139

A Stammerer's Crime 140

A Parable 143

Method-of-Attack for Continuous Sounds - - - - 144

Exercises 151

Stuttering Joe 151

The Broken Seal 154

Method-of-Attack for Vowels 155

Exercises 159

The Stutterers' Affliction 160

Womanly Conversation 161

The Tongue -- i6a

The Stammering Boy 162

Practice Necessary 164

PART II

The Cultivation of the Voice 167

Introductory 169

The Origin of the Voice 176

The Use of Terms i8a

Qualities of Sounds 185

Effort 190

Breathing 198

Breathing Exercises 309

Vocal Exercises aia

Gymnastic Exercises for the Tongue 314

The Attack of a Tone 315

Harmony 318

CONTENTS ix

PAOB

Tone Meanings 219

Kinds of Voice -.--..... 228

Enunciation 235

The Voice in Expression -- 339

Inflection 342

Pitch and Time 350

Force 253

The Voice in Public Address 255

The Care of Children's Voices 260

Music 261

Singing and Speaking in Public 263

Changing Voice 264

Malformed Vocal Organs 265

Voice and Action ----.-- 266

Articulation and Pronunciation -------- 273

Table of Sounds - 277

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE

Selections for Practice 289

The Stutterer's Complaint 290

The Angel's Request 293

The Old Oaken Bucket 295

The Last Hymn 296

The Moneyless Man 298

CouF^ Ye Disconsolate 299

Curfew Must Not Ring To-night 300

The Village Blacksmith 303

When the Frost Is on the Punkin 304

The Old Arm-Chair 306

If We Knew 307

The Patriot's Password 308

The Deserted Village -- 311

x contents

Battle-Hymn of thk Repubuc ---.-...- ^m

The Last Days of Herculanel'u --- 333

Rock of Aces, Cleft foe Me --.- 337

Rock Ml to Sleep jaS

A Royal Princess 339

The Statie in Clay 333

Apostkqphe to the Ocean --.--.-.--. 33^

Out to Old Aunt Mary's 336

The Lancvace of Flowers 337

The Burial of Moses ^^g

Break, Break, Bkeak -340

Platonic Love - 3^1

EPITHA1.AMILM 343

Mabvland 343

Tke BuRNiNU OF Chicago -,., 3^

The Lake of the Dismal Swamp - 34S

The Spanish Bull-Fight 349

Rl.[r,NATK,N 35,

The Raven 353

*Who Can Judge a Man from Manners?" ... - 3^7

Bay Billy .-... 359

Up-Hill 36a

SoHSBODv's Darling .• 3^

The Bore 364

The Stak-Spangled Banner ....---... 366

The Barefoot Boy 367

Oh! Why Should the Spirit of Mortal Be Proud? - 370
The Death of Maruion --......■-. 373

The Harp That Once through Tara's Halls - - - 373

Memories .-.,..-..., 373

The Bells -.....,.. 376

Home. Sweet Home .....-.-....- 378

The Destruction of Sennacherib - . - 379

Elrgv Written in a Country Churchyard - - - - 380

Don't Take It to Hrart 384

There Is No Death 385

Gold - 386

A Psalm of Life 387

CONTENTS

PAOX

The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers 388

I'm Growing Old --. 389

The Way of the World 391

There Is No Rest 392

The Reward 393

Paul before King Agrippa 394

The Cataract of Lodore 397

Pictures of Memory 398

Tact and Talent 400

Supposed Speech of John Adams on the Declaration

OF Independence 403

Matthew XXV. 405

The Return of Rip Van Winkle -- 409

PART I

(13)

INTRODUCTORY

FROii the time of the earliest recorded events,
thTxjugh all subsequent periods, stamnieriiig
has been common. Doubtless to certain persons it
has always been a subject for amusement, but the
afBicted one has ever failed to appreciate the humor.
It has been generous in its attacks, extending its
malignant inSuence to persons of all ranks and con-
ditions. The poor have not escaped and the rich
have failed to buy immunity. It has trammeled the
tongue of peasant, and fastened its grip on that of
kings and statesmen, Moses, the great lawgiver,
suffered from fettered speech, consequently his
brother Aaron became his mouthpiece. .(Esop,
Virgil, and Demosthenes were likewise afflicted.
The last named determined to eradicate the trouble,
and worked with considerable ingenuity and great
persistency to that end. He is one of the earliest
recorded examples of a complete cure. Several of
the kings of France stuttered badly. They pos-
sessed this advantage, however, that no one used
their affliction as a subject for mirth in their pres-
ence. The painter, David, and Charles Lamb were
similarly afflicted. No wonder that these turned
their brains and talents into expressive channels
where the tongue was not required. The great au-
thor and humorist found only misery in his attempts
to speak and never overcame the difficulty.

<i5)

1 6 INTRODUCTORY

Canon Kingsley, held in such high esteem
throughout England and widely known in many
other coimtries, stammered badly. Fortunately, he
put himself in the hands of a capable teacher and
overcame the trouble. Among his writings are
several papers on the subject, in which he gives
some good advice coupled with a few absurdities.
This great author and preacher owed his cure to
reasonable treatment, to much practice, and to his
persistent determination.

These are the names of a few of the great men in
history that have suffered from this affliction, while
thousands less eminent have struggled with it for a
lifetime without any clear notion as to its origin or
proper treatment. It would seem that it increases
in proportion to the development of the race. The
reason appears to be in the nervous strain incident
to civilization. It is also true that a nervous, excit-
able people furnish the greatest number of such
cases. There are said to be but few cases among
the native Africans, or the American Indians. It
is estimated that France has the largest proportion-
ate number, while China has the smallest. A stolid,
fatalistic people would be little affected. Besides,
the nature of the language spoken is an element to
be considered.

Among Europeans and Americans the average
cases of stuttering and stammering reach from
three to five per thousand. Probably the latter is
the truer estimate. This excludes minor defects of
speech, such as lisping, stumbling, and the blurring
of certain sounds. Thus it may be estimated that
there are in the United States from three hundred

mTRODOCTORY 17

thousand to half a million cases ; and yet there has
been but little attention given these unfortunates.
They have so far received no state aid, and the
philanthropists as yet — like the priest and the
Levite in the parable — have passed by on the other
side. Surely the reason is not that the afiSiction is
not sufficiently severe, nor that the number of the
afflicted is not sufficiently large.

Defective speech is more prevalent among men
than women, the reason probably being that a
greater proportion of the former have the nervous
strain of business, and are more often brought into
trying relations of Ufe. The constant burdens, and
the wear and tear of life, undoubtedly help to pro-
duce the effect.

Stammering and stuttering usually develop be-
tween the ages of four and six years, and rarely
after the age of ten. At times trouble develops
with the first attempts at speech; but strictly speak-
ing this is rarely, if ever, either stammering or stut-
tering, but hesitancy or stumbling, which, however,
may develop into either.

In most cases where there is either stammering or
stuttering there is no malformation of the organs
of speech. In five thousand cases investigated by
the writers there was found but one case where
there was any real defect in the organs of speech,
which suggests that elocutionary and physical, not
surgical, treatment is the proper remedy.

MENTAL AND VOCAL UNITY

IN THE beginning of our work it will be well to
consider the machinery of speech and deter-
mine the general requirements of good vocal deliv-
ery. Attempts have been made to remedy speech
defects by surgery, by an application of psycholog-
ical principles, by elocutionary exercises, and by the
use of mere tricks. The result has usually been a
failure; but various investigators, working along
different lines, have arrived at conclusions which
often contain a partial truth. We shall attempt to
gather up these fragments and to present them
adapted and modified by our own experience. The
person seeking relief from the thraldom of imper-
fect utterance needs all the assistance that psychol-
ogy, physiolog}'', and elocution can offer, and it is
only along these broader lines that he may hope for
any certainty of cure.

It is imperative that the student should under-
stand the whole process by which articulate speech
becomes possible, and, therefore, in simple language
we shall trace it step by step from the psychical
down through the physical nature. First, there is
the soul of man — not physical, not brain, but an in-
tangible, incomprehensible something which is the
ego. It has its seat in the body of man and, as far
as human experience is concerned, it requires the
body to give it expression. Science has demon-
(i8)

MENTAL AND VOCAL UNITY 1 9

strated that the center and source of our thought
and action is in the brain. A part oE the bodjr may
be injured without seriously affecting other parts
and without impairing the mental faculties. But
when the brain is injured in any manner the mind
is impaired and some part of the body refuses to
perform its functions; a bone pressing on the brain,
or an effusion of blood there, interferes with normal
mental action and results in partial paralysis of
some part of the body. There are centers which
control the actions of the arms and legs, others
which preside over memory, and still others which
control speech. It is with the Utter that we have
to deal. Here we select certain words to express
the thought in the mind and put into operation
those nervous processes which control the compli-
cated mechanism of speech. In other words, these
nerves control muscular action, and upon proper
muscular manipulation good speech depends. There-
fore, in considering speech defects we must study
the expression of thought, from its mental inception
to its vocal expression. These, then, must act in
perfect harmony — mind, brain, nerves, and mus-
cles. With the lungs filled the first action in speech
is a contracting of the walls of the chest, which by
reason of decreased capacity expels a quantity of air.
This air passes upward through the bronchial tubes
into the bronchi, into the trachea (windpipe), and
on through the larynx. This latter is a funnel-
shaped opening at the top of the trachea; on its in-
side are two bands or ligaments which, when we are
uttering a vocal sound, are stretched across the
passage. The escaping air strikes these and a sound

ao STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINQ

is produced. This sound, after leaving the larynx,
divides into two streams, one passing through the
nose and the other through the mouth. After
escape they reunite. So far we have vowels only.
Now if we force a stream of air through, without
the action of the vocal bands, we hear only escaping
breath. This sound may be modified by different
positions of the organs of the mouth, and the re-
sults are consonants. Under the head of the vocal
organs, then, we may include in their order (i) the
muscles of the chest and abdomen, controlling the
escape of breath ; (2) the bronchi, bronchial tubes
and windpipe, including the larynx and vocal bands ;

(3) the cavities of the mouth, nose, and head, and

(4) the palate, tongue, teeth, and lips.

Perfect normality, ease and harmony are the
necessary conditions in good speech; and rational
treatment suggests that the diflSculty in the individ-
ual should be located at the point where it actually
occurs, and that the efforts of the teacher and pupil
should be centered at that point.

Let us first consider the defects that are due to
improper mental action. In good speaking we must
determine clearly what we wish to say and select
certain words to express our thought. But we do
not always know what we wish to say, and the
reasons are various. At times the mind is so active
that a dozen ideas are engendered ere we can ex-
press one ; the result is a rush of words followed by
vocal hesitancy from sheer embarrassment at the
task imposed. The remedy for this is to think
deeper and less rapidly. Center the mind, rather,
on expressing one fine, well-considered idea clothed

MENTAL AND VOCAL UNTTY 2 1

in exact and choice language. We have in mind a
young man who always stammers when much inter-
ested. He was impressed with the idea that it was
hereditary, as it was also his father's defect. How-
ever, it was only a mental trait in which he
resembled his parent. Both were intellectnal store-
houses. They were widely read and were mentally
keen, and on most topics had a hundred ideas they
were eager to express. The young man, under the
treatment mentioned above, overcame the difficulty
the moment he was told how to do it. Frequently
persons stammer under excitement, diffidence, or
embarrassment. This is purely a fault of a mental
nature, and the remedy should be sought there.
Under these conditions, ideas that could be formed
and expressed clearly in private are now confused.
The original idea may be swallowed up in several
conflicting thoughts, as, * I wonder whether I seem
nervous? I am afraid I do not appear properly; I
hope I shall not do or say the inappropriate thing.*
It will be seen that the vocal organs may not prop-
erly perform their functions by sole reason of mental
embarrassment. Indeed, most persons will stam-
mer under great excitement or mental confusion.

It will be seen, therefore, that the prime requisite
is self-command under all circumstances. One
must compel himself to think clearly and deliber-
ately; he must determine not to be confused. It is
his first duty to keep his temper, to calm his nerves,
to act and think with deliberation. It is at this
point that the will becomes an important factor, and
he who would overcome defects of speech must culti-
vate an iron determination, unflagging zeal, and be

STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

guided by common-sense principles. With these
the average person suffering from stammering may
look forward to the time when he shall be disen-
thralled from its bondage.

DEFINITIONS

jy/I ANY writers have made no distinction between
* '^ * stammering and stuttering, but have classed
all forms of defective utterance under the former
heading, while others recognize both, and present
their theories and suggestions accordingly. Pro-
fessor Bell groups these vocal defects under three
headings, speech-hesitation, stammering, and stut-
tering. But in general, from the most remote
periods, two forms of speech-hesitation have been
recognized: stammering and stuttering. And in
order that the opinions of different writers on the
subject may be compared, we append a few defini-
tions : —

Stammering

The inability of articulating a
certain letter. — Aristotle,

An affection of the vocal or-
gans, causing a hesitancy and a
difficulty of utterance.

^Chambers^s Encyclopedia,

Stuttering

The inability of joining one
syllable to another. — Idem,

A loose and imperfect action
of the organs of articulation, as
distinguished from the irregular-
ity of breathing and convulsive
choking S3rmptoms which invari-
ably accompany stammering.

^Idem.

DBFINITIONS

Stamhekinc

HakiliK inyoliintaiT Mop* in
qttering ijUkblei oi words ; to
hesitate or falter in speaking j to
tpeak with ttopt Mid difficulty;
lottntter. — Wiiittr't Dietiimary.

Utterance chuactenxed by a
chokinc seiuation and an im-
peded action of the vocal appara-
tus. -^ O. PaOtr, M. D.

Inability to pronounce, or diffi-
cnltyin pronouncing, certain vocal
sounds. -^Abioa Smith, M. D.

A lock-jaw bind of easping.
The {[lotcis and the action of the
vocal cords appear to be para-
lyzed so they cannot be brought
into the position requited for a
vocal sound. — F. Hdmert.

The inability to pronoonce the
letters properly.

—Prof. A. Ktussmmd.

SrumtBiMO
Restricted by lotne phy^l-
o|[ists to defective tpeech, doe to
inability to form the proper
•ounda, the breath being normal
ai distingviihed from stammering.
-ItUtn.

A chronic spasm of the artic-
ulating oitwu, chancterized by
the repeated utterance of one •
sound before the organs can pass
to the combination of movement*
e neiL — litm.

The frequent repetition of cer-
tain sounds with more or less con-
tortion of the facial musclea.

—Idai.

A species of hesitation which
shows itself in the rapid and fre-
quent repetition of the explosive

A temporary spasmodic inabil-
ity to vocalize certain sounds,
especially the eiplosive conso-
nants. —Idem.

Emil Behnke makes the following comparative
distinctions: —

Staumbkikg Stuttikinc

I* associated with the delivery
of consonants, especially the ei-
plosives and sibilants.

A. Involves defects in delivery Is experienced in articulation

of individual letters, and the fault of. words or syllables, but each

is detected on attempt to repeat the separate letter of the alphabet can

■K letter* of the alphaliet be correctly tnundaud.

STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

Stammering

5. Is more frequently due to
defective physical formation in
the pharjmx and fauces, palate, or
tongue, or to enlarged tonsils,
varying the shape of the articulat-
ing cavity.

4. Is unassociated with other
faulty muscular movements.

5. Is much less frequently due
to want of nerve control, inde-
pendently of volition, as proved
from the foregoing and by the
absence of engorgement of the
vessels of the face and neck.

6. Is improved in the presence
of a teacher, and by care and
effort of will on the part of the
subject

7. Is betrajred in singing, dec-
lamation, and measured talking
(Klencke), to this we are only
half inclined to agree.

8. Is equally noticed in all
variations of the vocal scale.

Stuttering

Is generally due rather to
spasmodic muscular contraction,
and seldom to objective defects
of the organs of speech and artic-
ulation.

Is frequently associated with
irregular and spasmodic move-
ments of other muscles of coor-
dination of the face and limbs.

Is accompanied by much en-
goiigement of the face and neck,
.indicating a temporary paralysis
of the nervous (vasomotor or sym-
pathetic) control of the circulatory
system, which is indei>endent of
volition. Columbat*s definition
applies well here: << Disharmony
between volition and organic
movement. i>

Is generally rendered much
worse by observation, and by any-
thing that makes the subject
think of his defect ; thus, hearing
another person stutter will often
induce an attack of stuttering in
one who previously was speaking
evenly.

Is seldom betrayed ; but, on
the contrary, may be cured in
rhythmical delivery, as in low,
measured declamation smd sing-
ing.

Is absent in whispering low
tones, monotones, and often in
continuous reading, and becomes
apparent only on use of loud
voice, or in conversational speech^

DEPmiTIONS

STAmOKIKS.— A halting defective i
TOlontaiy npid repetition of ■ Mmnd or lyllable.

—ImttmaiiMuU DitHanarji.

Stakhbung OS Stuttkking.~A tpumodic aSectioD of ttaeor-
Z*os of ipeech in which the BTticnlstion of wordi it luddcnly checked
and A pause eiuuet, often followed in rapid seqoence of the paitlcular
loaodt at whicl) the itappage occnned.

— BrUmmica Enejclep<dia.

Faltkk, Stakmkr, Stuttss. — He who falten, weaken*, or
break! more or leis completeiy in atteiance. Tlte act ii occasional,
not habitual, and for reaMiu that *ie primarily moral belong to the
occasion and majr be Tarioui. He who itanuneia ha* p'eat difficulty in
uttering anything, the act may be habitual or occasionaL The cause Is
confiuion, ihyocts, timidity, or actual feu, the mult it broken and
articulate sounds that seem Co stick in the mouth, and sometimes com-
plete suppression of voice.

He who stutten makea sounds that are not what he desires to make;
the act is aJmott always habitual, especially in its worse forms. The
cause is often eacitement ; the result is a quick repetition of some one
sound that ia initial in a word that the person desires to utter, as c-c-c-c-
caEch. — Tin Ctnlury Dirtiaitary and Cyelep€dia.

A defect in utterance due to
an abnormal mental or emotional
condition, which results in the in-
ability at times to articulate, or to
control the orsans of speech,
which under such ciraunttancc*
become tightly closed and are
held tosether; and when there is
utterance, frequently one sound is
substituted for another. — Learn.

A defect in ipcech arising from
improper respiration and Tocoli*
sation, oftentimes resulting in
spasmodic action of the vocal or-
gans and in the rapid repetition
of a word, syllable, or sound be-
fore another can be uttered.

STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

DIFFERENCE

STAMMERING is usually employed to designate all
forms of repetition of sound and hesitancy in
utterance. Many authors make no distinction be-
tween stammering and stuttering, even when at-
tempting to treat of speech defects scientifically,
some using the terms interchangeably. But the
most careful investigators, and especially those who
have devoted their time to the cure of these defects,
have reached the conclusion that while there are
various forms of speech hesitancy, yet in general
there are two types, differing in general conditions
and requiring different treatment for their eradica-
tion.

Certainly in no case is the difficulty due to organic
defect; and it is, therefore, a subject with which the
surgeon has nothing to do, and the physician is only
at times a useful assistant. In almost all cases it
has been conclusively shown that the organs from
brain to lips are normally formed, and that the only
thing lacking is their proper control ; consequently,
where surgeons have attempted to cure by the use
of the knife they have invariably failed. Of course
there is frequently malformation of the various
parts comprising the vocal organs, which results in
indistinct or some other kind of faulty utterance,
and surgery may do a noble work in such cases.

(26)

DIPPBRBNCB 17

But Stammering is a very different trouble and
arises from other causes.

But, indeed, medical treatment as a means of
correction has been practically abandoned, for while
doctors have written learned treatises on the sub-
ject they have failed to produce beneficial results
as far as the cure of stammering is concerned. It
is a fact which cannot be denied that stammerers,
in everything save speech, are average persons.
Their minds are not deformed, there is no brain nor
nervous trouble (excepting as stammering makes
one nervous); they are as healthy as the average
person, and the vocal organs are usually well
formed. In short, the whole instrument is properly
formed and adjusted. The only thing lacking is
the ability to manipulate it. This ability may never
have been acquired, or it may have been acquired
and lost.

That the difficulty is functional and that surgery
cannot aid the sufferer are conclusively shown by
the fact that most of these persons can speak prop-
erly at times, when they are alone or with those in
whose presence they feel no embarrassment or
diffidence. If they can recite in unison with others,
or if they can sing under any circumstances, it is
conclusive proof that their vocal organs are properly
formed ; and all that teachers, science, or medicine
can do is to help them to secure that further con-
trol which will enable them to do, at all times, that
which they have the ability to do occasionally.
There are, it is true, persons who will ever find it
difficult to control the vocal organs under certain
circumstances; but these are few in number, ar '

28 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

have grown so through an absolute lack of confi-
dence in their vocal powers through years of strug-
gle and failure. Let us draw a parallel which will
exactly explain the condition. A timid, easily em-
barrassed child has been taught to play the piano
with considerable ease. When it is alone there is
no dijficulty in expressing its full knowledge of
music; but when it is suddenly asked to perform be-
fore a large audience it makes mistakes and discords,
and may even forget its technique entirely. One
never grows stronger by constant trial and constant
defeat, and the only way to cure stammering and
stuttering is to convince the pupil that there is
every probability that the affliction can be over-
come, and to prescribe those exercises that are
comparatively easy and which lead back to the
normal condition. With these ideas in view the
pupil is now ready to consider the real differences
between stammering and stuttering, and by so doing
he may be able to determine the nature of his own
difficulty and possibly the means necessary to over-
come it.

SUSCEPTIBLE DISPOSITIONS

The disposition susceptible to the development of
stammering is frequently inherited, and, in a sense,
has its origin in the mind. Stammering is often
due to a lack of confidence, which increases as one
failure after another occurs in the endeavor to speak
and which serve only to increase the hesitation of
the sufferer. Stuttering, on the other hand, is due
to nervous weakness, and shows itself in improper

SUSCEPTIBLE DISPOSITIONS 99

respiration, speaking from empty lungs, and in a
repetition of syllables. The stammerer, in endeav-
oring to say good morning, may suddenly find his
lips nervously twitching or held rigidly together
and be unable to utter a sound, while the stutterer
may utter the first sound and halt there, repeating
it over and over till he is able to pass to the next as,
g-g-g-good m-m-m-morning. When the stutterer has
lost all confidence in his ability to articulate, and
when constant nervous dread is experienced in the
endeavor to speak, he becomes a stammerer. This
frequently occurs.

The stammerer is frequently unable to effect a
beginning, or, if he does, when he reaches a sound
difficult of utterance he stops altogether, utterly un-
able to open his lips or to utter a sound. Under
such conditions the stutterer goes right on repeating
the difficult sound again and again until he falls
over it, when he seizes the next syllable. The diffi-
culty of the stammerer, we repeat, is largely mental,
and may be explained in this way: that portion of
the brain which originates thought says to that por-
tion which presides over speech, " I wish the follow-
ing sentiment uttered " ; but the latter, through
repeated eflforts and discouragements, unnerved
and afraid, say^, *I cannot do it.* The stammerer
knows exactly what he wishes to say, but, fearful
of his inability to express it, the organs of speech,
while in a sense capable, will not respond.

Stuttering is more noticeable than stammering,
but the latter is the graver trouble, as, being deep
seated, it makes a lasting impression on the meat
nature of the sufferer.

30 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

Some writers in considering the subject have used
three terms in classification, rather than two, viz:
speech-hesitation, stuttering and stammering — and
in a sense this division is very suggestive. One
who has not the best control over the organs of
speech is timid in utterance ; he doubts his ability to
speak easily, and thus his attention is directed to
his speech, which is not a normal condition; there-
fore he hesitates, sometimes at certain words, at
other times at any word. Usually when the initial
word has been uttered, or when he has gained a
certain amount of confidence, his speech proceeds
smoothly. This form of imperfect speech may be
the beginning of worse faults. In stuttering one
feels his inability to speak smoothly and easily. He
knows that he can talk, but he knows also that the
speech will be broken, jangling, and discordant.
lie feels that he cannot do better, but he can speak
in this faulty manner; therefore he continues to
stutter. In stammering the mind is convinced that
any utterance is impossible, and therefore the motor
centers of speech are not commanded to perform the
task, but simply requested to do that which it is felt
they cannot perform. Thus all forms of defective
speech may be traced to a mental or moral fault, or,
perhaps we should say, to a lack of coordination be-
tween the thought centers and the speech centers,
or between these combined and the physical organ-
ism. We observe also that the worst form of speech
defect — stammering — is more deeply a mental
fault, and therefore is the most difficult to correct.

These definitions and distinctions are made, not
with the desire to enter into any technical discus-

CLASSIFICATION 3 1

sion, nor to present a new theory, but rather that
the reader may be enabled to determine his own
difficulty and its cause or causes, and to see more
clearly the steps necessary to remove the impedi-
ment — for it matters little to the afflicted one what
theories are held by specialists unless their presen-
tation is such as to help him in removing his own
stumbling block.

CLASSIFICATION

In considering the various phases of the subject,
in order to properly group and classify the types
considered, we shall treat of each kind in its order.
It may be observed that stammering is used broadly
to designate all forms of speech hesitancy, and in
this general sense we shall employ it, since there is
no other term that has the same generally accepted
meaning. But when it comes to technical classifica-
tion it will be used in its more restricted sense,
stammering and stuttering representing the two
chief divisions of the general subject.

The stammerer hesitates, not because of physical
weakness nor because of lack of nervous control,
but through that condition of the mind which
doubts its ability to command language. There-
fore he usually comes to a complete stop, while the
stutterer begins to speak but repeats the sound
again and again. The latter usually breathes im-
properly and shows an inability to form syllables
and to connect syllables into words. Stuttering is
usually accompanied by facial and bodily contor-

32 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

tions also. The limbs frequently are convulsed and
the sufferer may show his internal effort by snap-
ping his fingers, stamping his feet, or by other
violent and excited movements.

The stammerer frequently can overcome his dif-
ficulty, to a certain extent, by a strong effort of will,
and at times may speak better when observed and
under trying circumstances. There is usually no
physical agitation manifested, no congestion of
blood in the lungs and face, nor does he appear to
be nervous. His speech simply stops. When he
utters a sound he rarely repeats it, but his voice
glides on to the next syllable and he proceeds until
he meets another difficulty when, instead of stum-
bling over it, he stops again. His difficulty may
manifest itself in speaking or singing in concert, or
under circumstances totally lacking in excitement.
He has reached a stage when, intermittently or con-
tinually, he has lost that mental control over speech
which is necessary to its command.

Stuttering, on the other hand, is more closely
connected with a lack of nervous control, and any
peculiar mental condition is not strongly manifest.
The stutterer hesitates and repeats his sounds, espe-
cially when he is observed. Fear and all forms of
excitement cause him to become more violent, while
he usually has periods when his speech is normal.
He does not often have difficulty in measured dec-
lamation nor in singing. He can repeat whole
pages of poetry when the rhythm is pronounced,
and many have no difficulty in offering prayer, even
before a large congregation. His difficulty is shown
in repeating a sound or a syllable again and again,

CLA8SIFICATIOK 33

in great agitation, in convnlsive action. The res-
piration is labored, the face agitated and congested,
and the head moves spasmodically; in fact the whole
physical nature enters into the effort Usually he
has little difficulty in forming the sounds, con-
sonants or vowels separately, but becomes agitated
when he attempts to join them into syllables or
words. His trouble is evidently due to improper
breathing and to a lack of co5rdination of the mus-
cles controlling the vocal apparatus.

In time the stutterer may become a stammerer,
but the stammerer never becomes a stutterer, while,
of course, one may both stutter and stammer. The
law of development is as stated and the reason is that
stammering is the more complicated difficulty and
represents a state where the trouble has ceased to be
physical and has become mental. While formerly
the sufferer stumbled over sounds that were difficult,
now he has reached that point where he is convinced
of his inability to speak, and hence cannot compel
the vocal organs, in certain cases, to make any effort.

Again, one may suffer from both difficulties at the
same time, but this marks a stage of evolution that
is half way between the two, and in which the stut-
terer is about to become a stammerer. He may
never go any further, but the probability is that he
wiU. Persons so affected usually show the difficul-
ties inherent in the two types. The respiration is
abnormal, sounds are rex>eated, accompanied with
considerable agitation, while at certain points the
Toice stops altogether, refusing to utter a sound.
The mind has not yet lost its confidence in vocal
ability to utter all sounds, but only certain sounds.

34 STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINO

The Stutterer has furnished a great deal of amuse-
ment to certain of his fellow-men. There are per-
sons who enjoy his agitation and his peculiar
utterance, just as cruel and wicked boys enjoy
tormenting their deformed playmates; but the stam-
merer, whose affliction is worse, meets with no
ridicule, simply because he does not utter broken
sounds, for when he experiences any difficulty he
does not speak at all. Because the former makes
his difficulty so apparent it is usually presumed that
it is more difficult to cure.

Speaking further, with reference to stammering,
stuttering, and speech-hesitation, we may consider
all of these various types as stages of development
which usually arise in the following order: —

(i) Imperfect articulation and stumbling.

(2) Hesitancy in pronouncing certain sounds and a dispo-
sition to avoid them.

(3) Repetition of certain sounds before one can pass to
the next, coupled with faulty breathing.

(4) Inability in certain instances to make a sotmd, the vo-
cal organs being rigidly held together.

Imperfect articulation and stumbling is probably
the first observable symptom of stuttering, and in
fact is of such a mild order that few persons would
regard it with any degree of alarm. It is at this
stage, however, that attention is necessary, for if
taken in time it can be overcome entirely without
institutional treatment or professional attention.
Stammering also usually commences in this manner.
It is probably due to ignorance of the awful results
consequent on carelessness that many cases are not
arrested at an earlier stage. Children thus afflicted

CLASSIFICATION 35

are usually encouraged to stammer, are laughed at,
and in truth are made to stammer; whereas in many
cases if unnoticed or carefully corrected these early
symptoms would probably disappear without further
attention. Grown persons sometimes develop pecul-
iar forms of hesitancy and stumbling which could
be readily corrected with a little care and practice.

Hesitancy in pronouncing certain sounds and a dis-
position to avoid them is a more pronounced evi-
dence of stuttering. Persons thus inclined should
be most careful, as at this stage the habit is easily
confirmed.

We have known of several cases where, apparently
without cause or warning, the difficulty developed
at once from this stage into real stuttering and
stammering. Hesitation, however, is not stutter-
ing any more than stuttering is stammering. How,
then, shall we know, when we hesitate, that it is
not stuttering; and how, when we stutter, shall we
determine that it is not stammering? In fact, how
shall we determine the type of our weakness ?

Stuttering is the degree of hesitancy and stum-
bling that renders the person thus afflicted unable by
any exercise of his will power and reasoning faculty
to control his fluency of utterance. Stammering is
*ii aggravated form of stuttering. The latter is
physical, while the former is mental. Hesitation
with a disposition to avoid words is a serious condi-
tion, and persons thus addicted should lose no time
in seeking a remedy for such difficulty. At this
early stage of the trouble much can be accom-
plished at home by practice in talking slowly and
deliberately, with daily exercise in breathing,

$6 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

plenty of physical exercise and good, wholesome
diet, clean habits, and an abundance of rest and
sleep.

Repetition of certain sounds before one can pass to
the next is indicative of stuttering, and is usually
accompanied by faulty breathing. The faulty
breathing is usually the result of the stuttering
habit, however, and rarely if ever the cause. At all
events, the two are associated, and so closely that it
is difficult to state from study and observation
whether the stuttering is resultant from the breath-
ing habit or vice versa. This much we do know,
however, that persons thus addicted are in a critical
condition, as this stage is but a degree removed
from stammering.

So closely is stuttering allied to stammering that
it is sometimes difficult to determine the degree of
each in a single case. There are many cases where
the habit is purely stuttering without much, if any,
mental complication, and in such cases the difficulty
is readily overcome. The exercise of carefulness
as suggested in the preceding paragraph would be
found highly beneficial in such cases.

Stuttering is dangerous only in this, that it may
develop into stammering, which, as already stated,
is the more difficult and aggfravated type of the two.
There are cases of stuttering that so remain, or that
never develop into stammering, but such cases are
very rare, since the larger number terminate in
stammering, and sometimes in an aggravated and
stubborn form.

Hesitancy in pronouncing sounds is purely indic-
ative of stuttering, but a tendency to avoid them or

CLASSIPICATIOH 37

to use flynonyms is a symptom of the meatal tend-
ency or of Btammering. It is a generally accepted
theory among physicians and others that the earlier
a habit or disease is checked the better for the pa-
tient. This theory is especially applicable to the
development of stuttering. By all means check, at
the earUest possible stage, any hesitancy in pro-
nouncing sounds, as in doing so yon can often pre-
vent the appearance of the mental difBculty. Not
only is this better for the patient, bnt also in thus
acting the tendency of heredity is checked. The
habits and contortions of the statterer are usually
more pronounced than those of the stammerer, and
for this reason also it is well to arrest the trouble at
as early a stage as possible, inasmuch as the chances
of others (in whom there is anatural inborn tendency
to stammer) contracting the habit are greatly less-
ened. In the treatment of a matter of this kind
the writers consider it only right to thus caution
those who are already sufferers from so terrible an
affliction, against carelessly exposing the disease to
others not thus afflicted, thus rendering the latter
liable to contraction of the habit.

Persons who stammer will fully realize what this
means, as many owing to association have con-
tracted the habit, which when once acquired is not
easily shaken off.

Inability in certain instances or under certain con-
ditions to make a sound is an evidence of stammer-
ing, in which case usually the organs of utterance
are tightly held together. This condition is often a
well-developed form of stuttering, which in turn, as
already explained, ta resultant from hesitancy. Such

38 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

being true should we not, then, guard with much
vigilance our every utterance?

Stammering is not always resultant from stutter-
ing, as there are many persons who commence to
stammer at the beginning and in whom no repe-
tition of words or syllables or hesitancy is notice-
able. Such cases are usually the result of heredity,
as nearly always there will be found to exist in the
same family others similarly af&icted.

It may be said of stammering that it is silent, be-
cause in its most severe form persons thus af&icted
are unable to speak at all under certain conditions.
There are not many such cases of stammering, how-
ever, the majority of so-called stammerers being
only partially thus afflicted; or, in other words,
most persons considered stammerers are in real-
ity addicted to both stuttering and stammering.
Stammering is dangerous in that some such cases
are most difficult to cure, it requiring the greatest
skill on the part of the instructor and the closest
application on the part of the sufferer in order
to obtain complete liberation. Such cases, how-
ever, are curable, and in some instances persons
of this class of the worst type have entirely re-
covered.

Stammering is manifested in the inability to
produce sound. Persons thus afflicted are some-
times wholly unable to raise their voice or to vocal-
ize, much less utter a syllable. It is manifested
often by muscular paralysis and by rigidity of the
muscles of the body and face. There may be no
other apparent indication of difficulty, in fact one
unacquainted with the difficulty, or with the habits

CLASSIFICATION 39

of the sufiEerer, would never detect that there was
even an inward straggle. In cases of the most
pronounced type the mental torture is almost un-
endurable. Sometimes persons thus afflicted be-
come addicted to convulsions — the result of great
mental strain — and in several cases we know of,
suicide and insanity have resulted.

Persons addicted to genuine stammering can
lessen the severity of their difficulty by home prac-
tice and study, but the absolute eradication of the
disease will require the personal attention of a com-
petent tutor and rigid disciplinarian.

If the suggestions contained in this work are care-
fully followed no doubt much benefit will result,
especially in cases of the milder forms of speech
hesitancy, stuttering, combined stammering and
stuttering, and probably also in cases of genuine
stammering. It would be practically an impossibil-
ity in a work of this kind to enter into a discussion
of every type of speech-hesitation classified under
the headings of stammering and stuttering, from
the fact that there are as many different types for
discussion as there are types of man, each bearing
its own peculiarity and phenomenon according to
the individual characteristics of persons thus af-
flicted. There are, however, several important
types well known to specialists experienced in the
treatment of stammering, and for the sake of clear-
ness we will refer to the different types by num-
bers, at the same time offering suggestions that
may benefit persons unfortunately thus afflicted.
In order that the classification may not be confus-
ing, we will designate each type separately according

40 STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINO

to number, and will endeavor as far as possible to
make our meaninfj^ intelligible.

No, I. — This is a type of stammering that for-
tunately is rare, as it is very difficult to cure. In
a sense it may be hereditary, though frequently it
is the indirect result of disease or diseases, or it
may be the result of a combination of causes: a
naturally weak constitution, followed by fright or
accident, resulting in disease, and finally into a
depleted and undermined physical condition. The
vital force in such cases is very low, and the mental
and moral natures are afEected thereby. Under
such conditions one becomes despondent. There is
a natural lack of energy and of will power. Speech
is not controlled because the effort cannot be put
forth, and because the motor organs are in a state
of lassitude. At times these persons suffer so
much, from such nervous depletion, that the vari-
ous parts of the body may be said to stammer.
There is a trembling of the whole body and a sense
of weakness when any action is attempted. In the
treatment of such cases the assistance of a good
physician may be of benefit. Not one who gives
drugs copiously and indiscriminately; but rather
one who understands that nature must do the work,
and that it needs to be given every chance and all
possible assistance. Real tonics, exercise suitable
to the condition, proper diet, pleasant surroundings,
absence of worry, and proper treatment of Uie
vocal defect are likely to build up the system, re-
store health, and cure the stammering. This type
cannot be cured without improving at the same
time the physical condition.

CLASSIFICATION 41

No. 2, — The trouble is inherent in the person him-
self and varies with his general physicfid condition.
In other words, snch persons find that they are pre-
disposed to stammer, bnt at times when in good
health cmd their physical and nervous system in
tone, when mentally they are cheerful and con-
tented, the difficulty does not show itself. When the
conditions change and the system becomes depleted,
when they are nervous and depressed, when the
mind becomes morbid or blue, their usual, mental,
mond, and physical tone and force are lacking.
This reaches a point where control of the vocal or-
gans is lost. There are persons who will not stam-
mer for a month or a year; but when the vital force
ebbs to a certain point (or in other words, when
they are • run down •) the disease asserts itself.
Other persons have their bad days when they ex-
perience great difficulty, and other periods when
they are free from it. In most of these cases relief
is close at hand and lies within the sufferer's own
reach. Proper attention to exercise and diet, re-
fraining from excesses and exciting influences,
avoiding all stimulants and narcotics — in short,
treating the system properly — will usually afford
much relief.

No, J, — While all forms of speech impediments
are accompanied by nervousness, yet in most cases
it is an effect rather than a cause. There are, un-
doubtedly, cases where the difficulty arises directly
from a lack of nervous control, and stammering or
stuttering results. This, then, acts as an irritant
and makes one more nervous ,- the result is a violent
form. This is often constitutional, as certain chil-

42 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

dren are nervous from an early age, and frequently
the symptom grows with the years, especially when
the surroundings and incidents of life tend to aggra-
vate the tendency. This nervous strain is mani-
fested in every movement. Every physical act is
spasmodic, uncertain, irregular; in short, nervous.
This broken and uncertain movement naturally
shows itself in speech ; the result is a halting, spas-
modic, irregular utterance. When the attention is
directed to this, the difficulty naturally becomes
more pronounced and thus speech-hesitation in some
form results. This form, like type No. 2, varies
more or less according to circumstances. It may be
worse during certain kinds of weather, or at certain
periods of the day. It changes, too, with the health
or moral and mental condition of the sufferer. It
resembles in some respects St. Vitus's dance, as it
is usually accompanied with facial contortions and
other convulsions. The sufferer is frequently irri-
table and subject to great depression. The mind is
usually active, fanciful, and somewhat erratic. The
nervous system must be toned up and controlled.
Discipline in proper utterance is a part of the treat-
ment, for not only is this in itself beneficial, but it
also assists in the acquirement of nervous control.

No, 4., — This type is usually accompanied with an
improper form of respiration. That there are other
causes is undoubted ; probably improper breathing
arises from the difficulty itself, rather than the con-
verse. It is usually accompanied with the habit of
speaking from nearly empty lungs, and in many
cases the chest is flat, as only the upper portions are
filled in inhalation. But it should be observed, too.

CLASSIFICATION 43

that one may breathe properly for physical purposes
and improperly for speech ; indeed, this is frequently
the case. One may fill the lungs from top to bot-
tom, and from center to circumference, in accom-
plishing a physical task, but may begin to speak only

' when the lungs are almost empty. No matter how
much breath one takes in, under these circum-
stances his utterance will be impaired. All forms
of defective speech arising from improper respira-
tion, where there is no physical defect, are most
easily remedied.

No. J, — This form arises usually from excessive
intellectual activity, rather than from depth of

' thought. There is also a failure of that constant
exercise of control which is subject to judgment.
Such persons are at times termed *over bright.*
Frequently there are a dozen ideas engendered in
the mind while the voice can express but one.
There is an attempt to express them all ; the sen-
tences become broken; words are only half uttered,
which results in stumbling and confusion. Mean-
while the mind is active, demanding expression,
which results in worse confusion, and in time the
person becomes convinced that he cannot speak
without stammering, and hence he stammers. It
is easy to point out a remedy, but for it to be per-
manently effective one must form new mental
habits. He must learn to think more exactly and
less extensively, more profoundly and less copi-
ously. He need in no sense curb his mental activity,
but rather he must discipline and direct it. F^
must learn that one correct statement may sum
a proposition, as well as a dozen of another w

44 STAMMERING AND STUTTERINO

He can usually overcome his difficulty at once by
forming his thoughts in definite statements before
he tries to utter them. Such stammerers are usu-
ally bright but not deep; keen but not profound;
quick but not safe.

No, 6, — Most forms of stammering are due in a
measure to neglect. At some point in the progress
of most cases it was possible, by a little effort, to
dispossess oneself of the burden. Many cases would
never have arisen without some abnormal exciting
cause and encouragement. Some persons from their
infancy are used to slovenly and half-articulate
speech. They mumble and stumble and slur till
their language is little more than the inarticulate
cries of animals. This may be followed by hesita-
tion, because the vocal organs, or rather their mus-
cles, have become sluggish, clumsy and inactive.
This hesitation gives them little concern until worse
symptoms appear, as stuttering. Finally, when the
defect has made its mental impression, the person
evolves into a self-made stammerer. In such cases
one must persistently unlearn his vocal processes
and establish new ones. He must also form new
and correct ideals of speech.

No. 7. — A stammerer of this class is usually
among the most sensitive of persons ; undoubtedly
he is so naturally, and his annoyance over his afflic-
tion makes him worse. To speak of the affliction is
like discussing any other deformity or abnormality.
He will frequently remain silent indefinitely rather
than exhibit his defect. Because he is thus sensi-
tive, perhaps, he stammers. His mind is constantly
impressed with his inability, and hence he becomes

CLASSIFICATION 45

unnerved and loses confidence in himself. A very
sensitive child frequently develops stammering in
school. The strain of competition, fear of ridicule,
uns]rmpathetic conduct 00 the part of the pupils
and teacher, perhaps a laclc of sympathy at home —
all join in increasing his difficulty.

No. 8. — This form difEers from the others in
nothing save that the utterance is almost entirely
through the nose rather than through the mouth
and nose. It presents the same symptoms, and is
due to the same causes as the ordinary type, with
this exception. It may be observed that after the
sound is made 10 the larynx in normal speech, it
divides into two streams, one of which passes
through the mouth and the other through the nose.
These then reunite and reach the ear as one sound.
When the stream is limited to the mouth or to the
nose there is an unpleasant sound. Good utterance
depends upon a proper blending of the two.

No. p. — In persons addicted to this form of stam-
mering there is no apparent effort, nor indication
of an attempt, to speak. The sufferer simply stands
dumb, not a muscle nor an eyelid moves. A sud-
den question causes him to stand transfixed like a
statue. At times he can speak readily, again not a
sound escapes him and there is no apparent effort
to speak. As such persons can usually speak with
considerable freedom at times, under proper treat-
ment they can be made to speak with ease under all
conditions.

No. 10. — Stammering of this type is frequently
associated with stuttering. The speech of such a
person is a startling conglomeration of sounds. It

46 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

represents the chaos of speech. The speaker gasps
for breath, tangles up his words, substitutes certain
sounds for others, hesitates and rushes on. He
sways back and forth, tosses his head, gurgles and
hisses. He alternates from a loud to a low tone
and contorts his facial muscles. In kind, if not
in degree, this species is not by any means rare,
but it usually yields very rapidly to proper treat-
ment.

No, II, — Oue thus afflicted never speaks without
stammering. In public and in private, sick or well,
joyous or depressed — he stammers. He is con-
sistent in his affliction and gives one the impression
that stammering is a high duty, and that not for
one moment must he relinquish his efforts to nobly
perform it ; but he should excite our sympathy, for
while his habit is firmly fixed yet never for a
moment during speech can he forget it In this
type no change of diet, climate, or excitement pro-
duces any effect. There are no peculiar sounds
or words that trouble him more than others. He
has no preference — all words and combinations are
the same to him. Vowels and consonants, words
dreaded by others, and easy combinations are
equally difficult. He is thoroughly impartial. In
the treatment of such cases it has been found that
with proper treatment the difficulty will disappear
about as rapidly as that of persons suffering with
the various other forms.

No, 12, — Some persons who stammer are inclined
to disbelieve, being naturally skeptical. They dis-
believe in their ability to perform or execute certain
acts, even as they doubt their ability to speak.

CLASSIFICATION 47

Many of them are also disbelievers in the ability of
others. They are naturally inclined to doubt, and
it is sometimes amusing with what caution they are
willing to be convinced. They regard everybody
as an enemy until they have proved him a friend,
and appear to think that others wish to take unfair
advantage of them. Such persons among stammer-
ers are usually difficult to cure without absolute
conviction beforehand of the merits of the treat-
ment.

No. ij. — It has been truthfully said that 'cheer-
fulness makes the mind clear.* The reverse of this
is manifested among persons who stammer and who
are of a disagreeable nature. Stammerers who lack
cheerfulness are usually whimsical and notional.
They are ever complaining and are never satisfied.
Their sorrows are greater than Job's sorrows and
the expression of their countenance is repulsive and
depressing. Many such cases are the result of long
and continued battles with successive failures, and
little wonder under such circumstances that their
manner is changed. Mocked at every corner,
laughed at and made light of by scores of unthink-
ing scoffers, turned aside at every opportunity, os-
tracized from society because of their infirmity, they
finally grow revengeful in nature and soured in dis-
position.

No. 14. — Contrasted with the sorrowful stam-
merer is the hopeful stammerer — of cheerful, sunny,
buoyant disposition. Such are usually found among
younger persons, as middle-aged and elderly per-
sons addicted to stammering become settled and re-
served through long and continued struggle and

48 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

eflfort. Persons of cheerful disposition are, how-
ever, more easily cured, as hopeftilness and a dispo*
sition to cheerfulness enter into any treatment as a
dominant factor in determining the cure.

Probably the most desirable class of persons with
which the specialist comes in contact is the class
that is not only devoted to its own interests but also
interested in the welfare of others. Such persons
are always successful, as they invariably receive in
return as much as they so cheerfully give. Their
buoyancy of disposition and the earnestness of their
manner is an encouraging influence everywhere,
and it is sometimes surprising with what success
such persons are rewarded.

No, 75. — There are many persons who stumble
in their utterance through sheer carelessness or
neglect, and who with but little care and attention
could talk fluently and with perfect freedom. Such
persons usually slur their syllables and often talk in
an incoherent manner. Carefulness and concen-
trated attention to utterance for a time is all that is
necessary in such cases to remedy the difficulty.

In this manner we could go on and illustrate the
peculiarities of many different classes or types
among stammerers. We could then subdivide each
class, illustrating individual eccentricities common
to each person included in such division. This,
however, is not necessary, as the object is only to
point out that the manifestations differ according to
the individual peculiarities or characteristics of per-
sons thus afflicted. They all belong to the same
family, the difference in type amounting only to
differences in disposition and temperament. Much

CLASSIFICATION 49

depends also npon the health or phjrsical condition
of the sufferer, in that persons of robust health
usually talk better than those who suffer physically.
This, however, is not always the case, as we have
known of persons of apparently robust health who
stammer violently. It is true, however, that if per-
sons of this class were to lose their health, their
stammering would very much increase in violence.

While there are said to be some forms of stam-
mering that are incurable, yet such cases are very
rare indeed, if the pupil will submit to the proper
treatment and comply with the necessary condi-
tions. Age has not much to do with the matter,
unless it is very much advanced. When one has
stammered through a long series of years he may
have reached a point where the habit is so deeply
seated that it is difficult to throw off. Besides, at
this period the vital forces are on the ebb, and there
is lacking that purpose and enthusiasm which are
powerful factors in earlier life; hence there are
cases which from age alone may be said to be in-
curable. Generally speaking, persons younger than
fifty years of age are fit subjects for treatment, and
even at a later period in life most satisfactory
results have been achieved.

The only cases that are really hopeless are those
where the stammerer is not willing to undergo the
necessary treatment for a cure. Perhaps he persists
in dissipation, refuses to be controlled and will not
exercise his volitional powers. He eats as he
pleases, keeps late hours, smokes and drinks. Un-
der these conditions a cure cannot be effected, bat
it is the sufferer's own fault

STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

Our conclusion, reached through years of experi-
ence, is that where the stammerer will put himself
in proper hands, submit to reasonable control, fol-
low the prescribed exercises, and be content to g^ve
a reasonable time to the work, every case of stam-
mering can be cured.

HISTORICAL TREATMENT

From the dawn of history to the present time this
subject has engaged the attention of learned men
and specialists and, undoubtedly, cures have been
performed in all periods. In many cases, whatever
the means employed, the real cause of the cure was
the determination of the afflicted one to eradicate the
fault. They, perhaps, have unwittingly added the
great element of determination, which is necessary
in all cases, and while many of the physical ex-
ercises engaged in may not have been wise, yet his
strong determination, a high moral purpose, and
self-control have enabled the stammerer at times to
surmount all obstacles.

The earlier investigators considered the difficulty
to be a local one, and of a purely physical nature.
Some located it in the tongue, others in the muscles
and nerves, and therefore directed their treatment
to these parts. Hippocrates considered the difficulty
due to troubles of the stomach and of the digestive
tract. He wrote much about curing stammering by
suppurating ulcers. Aristotle, speaking of vocal
difficulties, as stammering and stuttering, says, *A11

• • •

• • •• • •
I • • • •
"• • ••• •

• • t • •

• •• • »

•• ••

• • • •

• • • • •

• • • •

HISTORICAL TREATMENT 5 1

these arise from debility, for the tongue is not
obedient to the will. ^ Galen thought that muscular
debility, arising from cold and moisture of the
brain, was responsible for the difficulty.

Demosthenes is a striking example of the cure of
defective utterance. The fact that be became a
famous orator is not only proof of the value of
proper treatment, but is suggestive also of what can
be accomplished by proper discipline. According
to Plutarch, he owed much, if not his cure, to
Satyrus, a celebrated actor of that day; hence it may
be inferred the method employed was elocutionary.
The pebble in the mouth that is supposed by many
to have effected the cure was, perhaps, really of no
benefit, but the cure was obtained in spite of it.
The work consisted in a series of breathing and
vocal exercises. We all know the story of his de-
claiming when running up hill, and of his drown-
ing with the power of his voice the sound of the
breakers of the ocean. Many stories have come to
us of the various other bad habits and deformities
he overcame, because of his purpose to become a
great orator. This gives us a key to another ele-
ment in the cure which was most necessary. He was
a man of ambition, of iron will ; he could discipline
himself, and he had the moral courage to face slav-
ish and persistent labor and to forgo all pleasures
that were deleterious. Hence his cure. We may
remark that the means employed were the most nat-
ural of all those recorded in ancient times, and were
in one sense substantially those of modem times.
To Satyrus, then, credit is due for the first attempt
to cure stammering by elocutionary methods.

52 STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINO

From the dawn of the Christian era down to about
the year 1700 the doctors were all at sea. The
difficulty was ascribed to every possible physical de-
fect, from brain lesions to a lack of control of the
tongue. All sorts of remedies, surgical and med-
ical, were applied, and elocutionary methods were
lost sight of or discarded. Some of the parts to
which the trouble has been attributed are: the
brain, the tongue, the tonsils, and uvula. It has
also been attributed to the brain and nerve lesions,
irregular nervous action, spasm of the lips, spasm
of the epiglottis, spasm of the glottis, spasm of the
diaphragm, the hyoid bone, deranged coordination,
etc. One could fill a volume with these opinions,
most of which are worthless, and almost all of which
have been discarded by the medical profession.

It was left to the earlier part of the nineteenth
century to form the most absurd diagnosis, and to
perpetrate the most cruel treatment. Deffenbach
in 1 84 1 began to treat speech defects by surgery
and his ideas soon became popular, and prevailed
for a time throughout the principal countries. The
chief and favorite operation was to cut a wedge-
shaped section out of the root of the tongue, under
the impression that in some manner this would re-
move the difficulty. There was a mania throughout
Europe among specialists in this line, and blood-
letting became popular. The result was that mearly
all patients were maimed for life, a number died,
and none were cured. Following this period the
physicians and surgeons practically abandoned the
matter, and those few who gave it any attention
based their treatment on toning up the system of

HISTORICAL TREATMENT 5J

the patient and prescribing elocutionary exercise.
This brings us to the time when those who at-
tempted to treat stammering and other vocal defects
operated along the lines of the modem methods,
which will be fully explained in our later chapters.
It may not be amiss to state, however, that the
modem methods have gone back to the more an-
cient ones, as exemplified in the cure of Demos-
thenes. The middle ages have really given us
nothing, save a knowledge of the pitfalls to be
avoided.

The whole history of the theories regarding stam-
mering, down to the middle of this century, has
only a negative value. Its teaching is largely in
the direction of what should be avoided; but it has
its value nevertheless, as it points to exploded the-
ories and warns us against the charlatans of the
present day. Thus the process of elimination has
gone on till we have reached a point where there is
little doubt as to the causes, and not many differ-
ences of opinion as to the proper methods to apply
in effecting a cure.

How indefinite our knowledge would be if we be-
lieved with Lord Bacon that the trouble was due
to coldness and moisture, and in some cases dry-
ness, of the tongue, and how vague would be any
theory of treatment of the defect based on this
diagnosis.

Even as late as i860 we find much that was seri-
ously considered that we now know to be absurd.
So eminent an authority as Canon Kingsley, who
stuttered badly and who was completely cured, ad-
vises one to speak with a bit of cork between the

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CAUSES OF STAMMERING 55

Itard, in 181 7, used golden and ivory forks placed
in the cavity of the lower jaw to support the tongue.
Detmold passed needles through the tongue, though
how this was to eflEect a cure was never intelligently
explained.

To sum up, then, we conclude, that in the earlier
periods there were but few attempts at cures, and
that in those cases where the diflSculties were over-
come it was largely due to elocutionary exercises.
That general bodily health or a moral purpose was
concerned in the treatment, was evidently never
considered. That during the subsequent centuries,
down to about i860, all sorts of theories were bom
and flourished. That surgery and medicine at-
tempted to solve the problem and failed. That
the diagnosis was wrong as was also the treatment.
That during the last forty years we have reached
conclusions that are unquestionably sound, since
they are justified by the successful treatment of in-
numerable cases, and that we may now say that
stammering of whatever type may certainly be
cured.

CAUSES OP STAMMERING

The causes of stammering are numerous and
sometimes the trouble arises from a combination of
them. There is no doubt that many cases are hered-
itary. It may be so, although no known ancestor
may have stammered. One may inherit moral
traits which may easily lead to it, or he may have
had transmitted to him a delicate nervous organism

56 STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINQ

which, under certain conditions, renders him sus-
ceptible. It has been shown that certain diseases
may lie dormant in a family for one or two genera-
tions only to appear in some unhappy descendant.
Then, too, such diseases as scrofula may and likely
will appear in unexpected places. It may be mani*
fested in a twisted limb, facial distortions, or in the
organs of speech, or may manifest itself in some
nervous trouble which affects the organs of speech.
This information, however, is of little practical
value to the one actually afflicted, as he cannot con-
trol his ancestry; neither is it likely to affect the
lives of those who themselves may be ancestors.
It is a well-known fact that our children pay fo»»
our own follies and indiscretions, and, therefore^
we can only deal with our own cases as we find
them. But this may be said, that in most casea
when the evil is not serious it may be remedied.
Many cases that result from conscious or uncon-
scious imitation are supposed to be hereditary. A
child that otherwise would be free from the trouble,
by constant observation and suggestion will form
the habit.

The speech of stammering children is usually
normal for a couple of years after commencing to
talk and by proper treatment the disposition or
tendency to stammer which they possess (due to
heredity) may be neutralized, and stammering may
thus never develop. Neither stammering nor stut^
tering can be inherited. When children of stam-
mering parents manifest the same defect, it is
usually the result and development of conscious or
unconscious imitation.

CAUSES OP STAMMBRINO 57

That which is inherited is simply a disposition
favorable to the development of stammerings which
tendency may be arrested and overcome by proper
influences, or, under other conditions, if encouraged
develops into real stammering. We inherit many
mental and physical traits, the combination of
which may result in peculiar physical action, which
resembles that of some ancestor. We are predis-
posed, not ordained, to do certain things. Diseases
such as consumption we once thought were inher-
ited, but now we know better. We may inherit a
condition or conditions, which under certain circum-
stances make us susceptible to the disease.

The average stammerer is sensitive and nervous.
It is probably due to this that many stammer. One
who cares extremely for appearances, and who is
supersensitive, never does the thing well which he
desires so much to do. We have in mind a large
summer assembly where an incident occurred which
illustrates this. The president, in a spirit of fun,
challenged the people to a walking contest on the
stage in front of an audience, offering prizes and
saying that few people know how to walk. When
the contestants made the trial most of them found
that, with their minds centered upon it, and the
audience looking on, they could scarcely walk at all,
and the rigid, uncertain movements were laughable.

Many persons are sensitive and nervous, and
from this cause they may develop the habit of stam-
mering. A harsh word is like a blow, and gives
them a shock. They are in nervous dread of ridi-
cule from others, and this continued tension results
in a ntnrouiy timid action, often accompanied by

58 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

speech defect ; but this temperament, too, is subject
to control and modification. One may compel him-
self to be calm, to control his nervous activity, and
in this way through repeated efforts will establish a
habit of repose, which if not natural is yet second
nature.

Solid, phlegmatic people rarely stammer, because
they are eminently self-possessed under all condi-
tions, and possess that confidence in their abilities
which commands the vocal machinery.

STAMMERING A MENTAL DIFFICULTY

STAMMERING is Undoubtedly a mental disease, or,
to express it differently, the difficulty is pri-
marily mental. This idea has been combated very
often, and the proper interpretation of the state-
ment, as to its source, has not always been given.
We do not say that the patient is not intelligent —
indeed his mentality may be of a high order, but
we do say that the reason for stammering exists in
that part of the mind which dominates speech, and
that there the remedy must be applied, directly and
indirectly. Let us proceed to the proof.

Few persons begin to stammer under the age of
six or eight years. Up to that time their speech is
normal, then slowly or suddenly they begin to stut-
ter or stammer. Has this sudden change been a
physical one ? No, the organs may all be healthy
and normal. The child is not more nervous, saving

STAMMBRINQ A MENTAL DIFFICULTY 59

perhaps as his speech difficulty makes him so. The
change has taken place in the mind. He has dis-
covered his inability to utter words properly, con-
fidence is lost, and consequently there is a lack of
control of the speech centers, and therefore of
speech.

Again, most persons who suffer from speech-
hesitation in any form have moments when they
can speak well and without effort. Why does their
physical condition change in the interval? Have
the vocal organs become disordered or diseased?
We answer that the change is due to fright or em-
barrassment, or some other mental or emotional
phase.

Again, why can the person sing alone or in con-
cert? Why is he able to recite in unison with
others, while at times he cannot utter a sound under
embarrassing conditions? The reason is apparent,
the vocal organs are capable of doing their duty,
but lack that perfect control and function which
comes from the brain centers.

Some may argue that there are persons who can-
not speak properly even when alone, that they can-
not sing in concert; in brief, that there is never a
moment when they are able to use their voice prop-
erly. We reply that they have not always been so,
and the cause is that, while formerly they were able
to control the speech centers at times, through re-
peated efforts and failures they have now lost all
confidence in their ability, and hence cannot com-
mand the motor mechanism necessary to speech.
The organs are normal, and require only the master
touch of the master mind to set them into action.

6o 8TAMHBRINO AND STUTTERING

There is a true story of a servant who at times lost
complete control of her articulation and stammered.
She was very devout and fully believed in the effi-
cacy of prayer. Her mistress told her at such times
to utter a prayer. The result was that her speech was
almost suddenly restored. In other words, after
this prayer she thought she could speak, and this
complete confidence in her ability enabled her to do
so. The difficulty was mental, and the cure was ap-
plied to the source of the trouble.

One may stammer in his thoughts, in his actions
and, in a sense, in diflEerent parts of the body. The
causes are due to some difficulty in coordination, or
in the lack of harmonious action of the motor cen-
ters of the brain. Many persons stammer in their
work or play who, when they become thoroughly
absorbed, will drop the impediment entirely. We
have in mind a man who ordinarily stammers badly,
and yet who is a fine public speaker. He shows his
impediment in the first few sentences while he is
self-conscious, but when once engrossed in his
theme all hesitation disappears and he becomes a
master of speech. The change is due entirely to a
change in mentality. All human activity has its
seat in the brain, and it is only when the physical
organism is controlled from this center that any ac-
tion is possible. Paralysis in the hands, limbs or
vocal organs proceeds from the brain. An eflEusion
of blood that interferes with normal mental activ-
ity is the cause of various bodily aflEections. Indeed
surgery has taken advantage of this knowledge. In
many cases when certain parts of the body are af-
fected, science is enabled thereby to locate the

STAHMBRINO A KBNTAL DIFFICULTY 6 1

trouble at a definite spot in the brain. There have
been cases when paralysis has shown itself in the
hand or arm it has been attributed to bone pressure
or a tumor, and from the locality of the manifesta-
tion in the body it has been traced to a certain exact
spot in the brain. In some instances a button of
bone has been removed from the skull, only to find
an apparently healthy surface beneath; but with
the accuracy of science the probe has been fearlessly
inserted, with the result that the tumor has been
found and often the patient relieved.

Therefore, we naturally set about to trace the
difficulty of stammering to one of several probable
sources. Are the vocal organs perfect or mal-
formed? Since the master mind cannot play on a
broken instrument, the answer usually must be,
that these are normal. One should note that ordi-
nary peculiarities of vocal structure are not hin-
drances to a reasonable control of voice ; in other
words, they do not cause stuttering or stammer-
ing. A lisp is not due to improper structure of the
organs but to their misuse. Nasality may be pro-
duced by normal organs, and usually is a mere
habit; at times there may be a nasal growth, which
should be removed. Thickness of the tongue and
heavy lips are not causes for stammering, although
they may result in other unpleasant faults of utter-
ance. In practically all cases of stammering and
stuttering the vocalist or surgeon can pronounce
the vocal organs normal in their construction.

Is stammering due to a lack of muscular strength?
This may be answered in the negative, since the
muscular effort necessary to speak is a slight one.

69 STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINQ

Even the dying man may use his voice. Besides,
the various muscles of the mouth may be used nor-
mally in many other ways. Upon consideration
we must conclude that the difficulty does not lie
here, since the muscles in themselves are dead and
inactive until called into play by nervous force.

Is the trouble primarily in the nerves? Here
real difficulties in answering present themselves.
The answer must be yes and no. We shall find
that those functions that are nearest to the brain
begin to present difficulties. The brain and the
nervous system are so intimately related that any
affection of one must impair some of the functions
of the other. Nervous weakness means a lack of
control of the muscles, and undoubtedly speech de-
fects may come from this. But still we find that
among stammerers and stutterers there is usually
sufficient nervous control for all purposes other
than speech; and when we remember that these
nerves control the same organs that are used in
speech, properly for all other purposes, we must
conclude that speech defects are not usually due to
nervousness — nervousness is more often the result
of stammering, and rarely, if ever, the cause.

Through this process of elimination we come back
to our first proposition, that the center of difficulty
is in the mind, not in the physical structure of the
brain (for that is usually normal), but in the inabil-
ity to control particular functions. We have stam-
mered and we fear we shall do so again. This fear,
then, amounts to a certainty, and hence we stam-
mer, because we fiave stammered. Nervousness
is a result of this condition rather than the cause,

CHARACTERISTICS 63

and nervousness is a hindrance to all normal bodily
effort. An illustration may make this clear. Why
could you not walk across Niagara Falls on a solidly
fixed board four inches wide? You can walk any
distance on a single board of the same width in a
plank walk. Why do the knees tremble, and why
is there a complete absence of nervous control?
The reason is not to be found in the muscles, in
the nerves, nor in the physical brain, but in the
mind that loses all confidence and recoils at the
dreadful consequences of failure, and is sure it will
fail

From the foregoing we may sum up, with consid-
erable assurance, that the stammerer's difficulty
results from repeated failure and consequent dis-
couragement; that he has lost confidence in his
vocal ability; that he dreads to make an effort,
since it must result disastrously, and that, there-
fore, he hesitates mentally before he does bodily.
We conclude that stammering is due to a certain
mental condition, but repeat that this mental condi-
tion is in turn largely due to stammering.

CHARACTERISTICS

In a sense each person is a type and differs from
all others of his race. There are resemblances, and
these may be classified and gathered into groups,
but there are no exact parallels. As no two faces
are alike, so no two mental natures are the same.
Consequently, when we come to consider the nature
of the stammerer we find that all kinds of persons

64 STAMMERINO AND STUTTBRINO

are victims of the habit. Some are sullen or mo-
rose, while others are naturally bright and cheerful.
Some are stolid and phlegmatic, others nervous and
of a sanguine temperament; yet, nevertheless, we
believe that the stammerer in general possesses a
nature which is different in many particulars from
that of his fellow-men. He is usually of a sanguine
temperament, active and nervous. He is apt to be
a sensitive person. His imagination is ever keen,
and is apt to picture difficulties in advance. His
whole mental and nervous nature are very much
alive. He is usually impulsive and enthusiastic.
He enters into everything eagerly but is likely to
relinquish his purpose and become discouraged.
He is full of ideas, usually bright ones, but he lacks
the dogged purpose to put them into execution. He
is likely to be whimsical and erratic. He is a hu-
man thermometer, which varies in a sudden and
uncertain manner. In general he may be said to
be brighter than the average man but not as sound;
keener but not so deep, and his failures in life are
apt to be due to a lack of steady, concentrated effort
in execution. These may not be the characteristics
of each individual stammerer, but they apply to
the class.

The stammerer usually possesses a feeling of in-
equality. He is bright, but nervous and timid. He
is usually an impressionable individual. In a sense
he is an egotist, in that his attention is largely cen-
tered in himself, and frequently in a way that does
not do him credit. He wishes to appear well, to
say the proper thing, to make the best impression.
He fears that he may fail, and has defeat constantly

CHARACTBR18TICS 6$

in his mind. It requires an effort of will to meet
those of superior station, and in society he is self-
conscious and diffident. He constantly avoids pre-
senting any personal peculiarity, and if it once
appear in his speech his attention is attracted to it,
with the result that the impediment grows worse.
Frequently he is so self-conscious that he cannot
look another in the eye, especially if that person is
a stranger or one of prominence or of superior rank
in life. While usually very bright and intelligent,
he tries to persuade himself that he is grotesque,
and if once his peculiarity betrays itself in speech
he is doomed, for that is to him tangible evidence of
his inequality. We repeat, then, that the stam-
merer* usually is self-conscious and that he is an
egotist But we mean this in the sense that he is
sensitive and timid, and that his judgments invaria-
bly tend to self -depreciation. There are two kinds
of egotists. One says, * Look at me and admire * ;
the other says, * I know you are looking at me ; I
hope I may appear properly (but I doubt it).*
That this latter is his condition of mind may be
seen from the fact that usually, in those relations
where his personality is not prominent, or when he
forgets himself, he has no difficulty in speech. This
feeling, characteristic of the stammerer, is a species
of moral cowardice.

There are two kinds of men. One has an undue
appreciation of his abilities and worth and thinks
he is equal to any undertaking; the other is con-
stantly depreciating his own efforts and shrinks
from obtruding his personality. The former is
rarely open to conviction, the latter will modify an

66 8TAMMBRINQ AND STUTTBRINO

Opinion or utterance almost before objection is maae.
We have seen many students just on the verge of
stuttering, and in whose minds the fear of failure
or of being incorrect was ever uppermost. On cor-
rection, suggestion, or criticism, they are too ready
to apologize or change their opinions ; at times, even
before the cause of the trouble has been really ex-
plained. The other class are as immovable as rock
and stubbornly defend everything remotely con-
nected with themselves. They rarely stammer.

Then there is another class between these two,
f>., well-poised men, without excessive confidence,
and yet who, on the other hand, have an apprecia-
tion of their own worth or power; these, too, rarely
stammer. Hence the conclusion may be drawn that,
in a sense, the stammerer lacks, in some particulars,
moral courage and moral stamina. He needs a
severe course in self-discipline. He shrinks from
contact with superiors, or those regarded as such.
He fails to express and to maintain his just and nec-
essary opinions. He allows himself to shrink from
the performance of duties of a public nature. He
may even, almost entirely, withdraw from society.
Why? Because he is afraid, and seeks thus to es-
cape humiliation. But let him understand that tim-
idity is encouraged by avoiding responsibilities and
by yielding to it; that determination is for him a
valuable quality, which is developed only by its ex-
ercise, and that he stammers because he is afraid.

Stammering has been termed a lack of confidence,
which is quite correct in the majority of instances.
There are persons who stammer at but few periods
of their lives, only in sudden fright or upon dis-

CHARACTERISTICS 67

oovery. Indeed, it is a common thing for dramatists
to make their characters stammer under great ex-
citement or surprise. The reason is apparent —
control is suddenly lost and all confidence for the
moment is gone. When it returns the stammering
ceases. Then we say, with all positiveness, that
right here tn this very lack of confidence is the cause
of very much stammering and stuttering. Why we
lack confidence is another matter. It is because of
our natural temperament, because of mental and
moral habits. A person who is predisposed to stam-
mering and who acquires the habit of lying and con-
cealment, will almost certainly develop this speech
defect. From this we do not wish it to appear that
all persons who stammer are prone to untruthful-
ness, as it has been our experience that stammerers,
generally speaking, are as truthful as persons not
thus afflicted. The mind constantly fears detection,
and is not secure and confident ; or, if one has habits
he conceals, the constant thought that they may be
observed or discovered results in a lack of confi-
dence, which may in turn result in speech impedi-
ment, especially when the discovery suddenly
confronts him. The need is confidence, and we
should thus form those habits which will satisfy our
own minds and consciences.

STAMMERING THE RESULT OP
MANY CAUSES

IT WILL be seen by the foregoing that stammering
is the result of a certain mental or moral condi-
tion, which manifests itself in a lack of confidence
and is accompanied by insufficient will power to
overcome the difficulty. Not, necessarily, that the
stammerer has less will power than other men, but
that he needs more to aid him to do those things
from which he shrinks and which other men do
without effort.

We may consider this condition as a result, and
still search for other causes. We shall find that they
are many, which, singly or combined, will produce
the undesirable result. We have diagnosed ten thou-
sand cases of stammering and stuttering, searching
carefully for their causes, and have corresponded
with more than fifty thousand persons thus afflicted,
and found that among the list there was but one case
associated with any organic defect. This is virtually
the experience of other competent investigators.

The trouble may develop as the result of certain
diseases, when the person is predisposed in that
direction. Therefore, we may say that any disease
which weakens the nervous control and results in
a depleted condition of the system may assist
in the development of stammering. Physical in-
juries, sudden fright, brain trouble, scrofula — in
short, anything which shocks the system or weakens
(68)

THE RESULT OP MANY CAUSES 69

tnd undermines it through the lapse of time tends
to lower the physical and mental tone, and thus
assists to develop stammering when the person is
predisposed in that direction. There are persons
who attribute the defect to some of these causes,
and can point to a sudden fright or a disease which
they claim as the origin of their trouble, but a simi-
lar cause might not produce the same effect in
others. That it did so in a particular case was be-
cause the patient was in a condition where he was
susceptible to stammering, and this sympathetic
physical condition added the one element needed.

Stammering is oftener simply a developed and
confirmed habit, and is usually the result of years
of neglect and improper influences. Most persons
who stammer begin at an early age. The first diffi-
culties are scarcely noticeable, and there is no effort
put forth to eradicate the trouble. Just here a lit-
tle intelligence and care on the part of parents and
teachers would usually be sufficient to cause the
trouble to entirely disappear. But the causes, from
which the first difficulty arose, continue ; the trouble
is constantly augmented; gradually the mental con-
dition, that always accompanies the trouble, is de-
veloped ; and lo ! the stammerer is made. Youth is
the habit-making age, and in after life we do many
things not because they are natural or reasonable,
but because we have grown accustomed to doing
them. Speech is one ot these ; no matter what lan-
guage we use, it is because we have acquired it,
and the same is true of stammering. At some time
in our lives we have hesitated or stumbled in pro-
nunciation or utterance ; after this we either forget

70 STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINQ

the occurrence, or it makes us timid and causes us
to lose confidence. If, then, the conditions are
present whereby the difficulty is emphasized and
encouraged, gradually the difficulty develops into
a habit, until it seems to us more natural to stam-
mer than not to do so. The remedy is to build
up a new and correct habit and to undermine the
old.

All writers on the subject agree that imitation
and association are fruitful sources of stammering,
and it may be either conscious or unconscious.
Our speech, like any other habit, is the result of
temperament and education. We learn all we know
from the world around us, and we represent in our-
selves the sum total of all that we have seen, heard,
and experienced, modified by our own natural, men-
tal, or physical traits. This being granted, it will
be seen how vast a force imitation is, and what a
factor it is in determining speech. Children uncon-
sciously imitate the words of others; it is their only
way of learning the language. Now words, to the
minds of children, are not mere abstract, printed
symbols — they are tone-symbols, full of life and
energy, and as far as the vocal, organs will permit
they utter the words exactly as they hear them.
Therefore, as a rule, we may be sure a person with
a nervous, unpleasant, harsh voice has been as-
sociated with those who speak in this manner. Of
course temperament has something to do with it,
but it is a minor factor. A great truth, which
should be written where every member of the house-
hold and every teacher may see it, is : * Tempera-
ment is determined largely by the habits of speech

THB RESULT OP MANY CAUSES 71

which the child imitates and acquires. * Teachers
have a great influence in shaping the speech (in-
cluding all its elements) of children. The pupil
spends a great part of his young life under the
teacher's care. It is not a matter of theory, but of
observation, that the pupils learn to imitate the
voice and manners of the teacher. A teacher with
a high, shrill, irritable utterance will soon have all
the pupils talking in the same manner. Nervous
speech results in nervous strain and manner, and
under these conditions voices and mental habits are
formed. Occasionally a teacher will be found who
habitually speaks in a clear, mild voice, quietly and
deliberately; and in time all the schoolroom work*
will conform thereto. Much of the breakdown and
the nervous strain of our children in the schools is
not due so much to the task imposed, as to the con-
stant competition with others, the nervous, irritable
voices of teachers and pupils, and that deadly strain
which prevents the careful performance of any task.
Here speech defects arise and flourish, and many of
our public schools might be termed ^ Institutes for
teaching Stammering. *

Along with the public school the home in too
many instances may be classed as an institute for
teaching stammering. There are households where
a simple request or statement goes unheeded, unless
it is emphasized by a loud voice and violent language.
The standard has been set and must be maintained.
We have heard of the crew of a ship who, when they
lost their captain, refused to obey any orders from
the new officer unaccompanied with horrible oaths.
There are households where there is rarely a word

7 a STAMMBRINO AMD STUTTSRINQ

Uttered mildly and pleasantly. Screaming women,
growling men, irritable servants, keep the child's
nerves on the jump and afiEect his voice directly and
indirectly. The child tmconsciously imitates this
manner of speaking, with the result that it is af-
fected nervously, which again reacts on its speech.
Method, order, time, and cheerfulness in the home
and school would prevent many a bad case of stam-
mering.

Many children acquire the habit through associa-
tion with stammerers by unconsciously imitating
them. As has been observed, the child learns its
speech by copying the speech of others, and, there-
fore, these speech defects enter into the process.
Now, from it all, the most difficult and striking
thing produces the greatest impression and the
most lasting result. Little by little the utterance
of the child becomes that of the stammerer, and,
consequently, the same nervous action is super-
induced until the stammerer stands complete from
brain to lips. A stammerer in the household is to
be dreaded like a contagious disease. Its germs will
insidiously affect all those who are open to attack.
Parents having young children, who employ a nurse
or other servant who stammers, are doing a danger-
ous — almost a criminal — thing. Of course, when
there is a member of the family with a speech
defect the matter is more difficult; but then the
combined intelligent efforts of the other members
may do much. A good teacher may assist, and the
importance of the cure should not be measured by
the needs of the afflicted one only, but also by thus
removing the danger to the other children.

THE RESULT OP MANY GAU8B8 73

Con^ioQS imitation is another most potent cause
of stammering. Frequently speech deformities are
regarded as subjects for mirth. There are many
persons who delight in deformities of all kinds. It
is this spirit which makes freaks, bearded ladies,
living skeletons, dwarfs, and other monstrosities
popular. Children are very curious about things
that are not normal, and hence a stammerer offers
a rare opportunity for their speculation. It is re-
garded as amusing, because it is not usual. They
try to make the same sounds and grimaces as the
persons unfortunately afflicted, and any degree of
success evokes peals of laughter. Many are thus
creating their own punisliment, and in after years
will become the subjects of the jests of others. He
who imitates that which is not correct usually pays
the penalty, and the truth of this applies in this in-
stance with peculiar force. Is the stammerer, then,
to be ostracized because of his misfortune? We
can only answer by saying that we may greatly love
our friend who has smallpox, but common sense de-
mands that we should not put ourselves in a posi-
tion where we are liable to contract the disease. It
may be said, for the benefit of those who are not
sufficiently impressed by the dangers of imitating
speech defects, that the books are filled with cases
that have so resulted. Teachers of elocution and
teachers for the cure of stammering have observed
that a great number of their cases arise in this man-
ner, and there are others where readers and actors,
in representing stammering voices, have become so
affected themselves that their ordinary speech ever
after has been a most excellent imitation. We have

74 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

in mind the case of a young man who, although six-
teen years of age, contracted the habit of stammer-
ing (and of a most violent form) by imitating the
contortions of an actor who was amusing his audi-
ence by imitating the habits of a stutterer. Such
cases are not infrequent happenings.

Stammering from mimicry is a very common oc-
currence, but the cause may incorrectly be attrib-
uted to other sources, as fright, disease, or heredity.
It is established that one-fourth of all those who
stammer owe their difficulty to this source. Gener-
ally the first symptoms are not those of stammering,
but of some lesser evil, such as stuttering or hesita-
tion, which becomes confirmed and finally develops
into the graver trouble. It is worthy of continued
iteration that the trouble usually grows worse up to
a certain period in life, and that stuttering fre-
quently merges into stammering by reason of the
continued irritation and nervous depression incident
to constant endeavor and constant failure to express
oneself. Ultimately the mind reaches that state
where it ceases to control speech ; hence stammer-
ing. The tendency of every habit, mental, moral,
and physical, is growth and development. Its prog-
ress may be arrested at any stage, but usually it
continues. The only safe way is to begin at its foun-
dation and overthrow it, and then the tendency will
be in the direction of normal activity. This prin-
ciple applies to abnormal vocal action.

Suppose a child from its earliest infancy heard no
human voices but those of stammerers, it would
never speak in any other way — at least not until it
releamed the processes of speech. Now suppose

THE RESULT OP MANY CAUSES 75

that instead of this, it hears proper speech from
some and improper from others, it will follow the
line of least resistance. If it is predisposed to
hesitancy or thick utterance, it will follow the im-
I)erfect example — will imitate and improve (?) upon
it. Then suppose it consciously mimics the stam-
merer, it is simply hastening its own downfall, and
is fostering and encouraging a habit which in time
will lead to much misery. There are cases where
parents have, in a playful manner, stuttered out
sentences to their children, only to find the answer
unconsciously framed in the same broken form.
Given the proper conditions, a stammerer may be
made of any one.

Usually, then, the stammerer is not bom but
made. The utmost that we can grant is that through
heredity he may be predisposed to it ; but this may
be easily corrected or removed. It is not an inde-
pendent or functional disease, for one may stammer
and the whole system be perfectly normal. It is a
habit or a symptom. Klencke says : ^ Stammering
is not independent, it is not a disease by itself. It is
in every case a symptom, only a reflection of a pre-
dominating mental and physical disease.'^ Even
when the physical organism is normal the difficulty
is usually accompanied with a lowering of the vital
force, and a consequent nervous derangement and
enervation. This condition causes stammering,
and, too, stammering causes this condition. Thus
the disease and its symptoms are each cause and
efiEect, and each reacts on the other. To express it
differently, one stammers beoause of certain abnor-
mal mental and physical conditions, and these con-

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HBRBDITT 77

It may develop in us from other reasons. We may
be weak from sickness, and because we are timid
something frightens and shocks us. Then in at-
tempting to speak we stmnble over the words. We
are told we stammer, our attention is directed to
the fault, and we are afraid of repeating the error,
and thus we grow worse until the habit is con •
firmed. Speaking from the standpoint of heredity,
we can say only that one may inherit a combination
of mental and physical traits which, under certain
conditions, may lead to stammering, but never, ex-
cept in conjunction with other assisting and exciting
causes or influences. Probably the most difficult
form to cure is that which comes from heredity,
since in this one has to deal not simply with a habit
acquired by an individual, but with a trouble that is
deep seated and that had its origin in generations
now gone. It is a battle with a strong predisposi-
tion, and one who stammers from this cause has the
habit as he has any other family characteristic. In
many instances, no doubt, where stuttering is said
to be hereditary, it is simply due to association
with those who are thus afHicted ; yet stammering is
often tmdoubtedly due to heredity. In some cases
many members of a family may experience the diffi-
culty — uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters, and cousins.
In cases of stammering that are clearly hereditary
all may not be similarly afflicted. Some may sim-
ply be slow of speech, others may stutter, and still
others may stutter and stammer, while the worst
affected simply stammer. The reason is apparent.
Some have inherited the family trait and disposition
more thoroughly than others, or have been subject

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HEREDITY 79

this afiEects the normal action of the whole body, in-
cluding the organs of speech. It may result in
hesitancy, quickly followed by stuttering, only to
evolve into stammering, but the latter follows only
when the difl&culty has resulted in an improper
mental control of the machinery which produces
speech. While it may be stated generally that the
majority of cases of stammering brought on or de-
veloped by fright are not difl&cult to cure, we have
known of a few exceptions, and have come in con-
tact with a few cases of this class most chronic in
form and most difficult to cure.

Many persons can trace their vocal difficulty to
some serious illness. They have found that, upon
recovery, their utterance became indistinct, broken
or inarticulate, which has often resulted in violent
stammering or stuttering; but, as in other cases, the
illness was simply the cause that developed the dif-
ficulty — it did not originate it. It might under
normal conditions have lain dormant all one's life
or might have been awakened by other causes.

Many of the diseases of children have the effect
of leaving the sufferer in an abnormal state, includ-
ing abnormality in speech. The reason is that they
usually have these diseases at the time when speech
defects are most easily developed and, therefore,
they serve to aggravate any antecedent inclination.
It is principally in troubles accompanied with high
fever that the patient is left with a speech defect,
such cases as diphtheria, scarlet fever, whooping-
cough, typhoid fever, mumps, measles, bronchitis,
etc ; but stammering from sickness results chiefly
from those cases that are accompanied by delirium.

8o STAMMBRINQ AND STUTTBRINQ

Oftentimes persons stammer in delirium, and thus
the habit is formed which, upon their convales-
cence, in their depleted condition, they find difficult
and frequently impossible to shake off. Usually
sickness with delirium does not result in speech
hesitancy; it is only where the person from heredi-
tary or other influences is in that state which ren-
ders him susceptible that the difficulty arises.
Before their illness their motor control was suffi-
cient though not strong, during illness it becomes
weakened to a point where the mechanism of speech
refuses to respond to the will, hence the difficulty.
As in the case of fright, so in this instance; the
trouble is not difficult to eradicate, because it has
not been of long duration. All that is needed is to
build up the system and establish confidence,
thereby bringing the mental control and the action
of the organs back to their normal condition.

When stuttering and stammering follow illness
the difficulty usually is first shown in the former
type. This is more often the case as a consequence
of the diseases of children, for most speech diffi-
culties originate in earlier years. They rarely
result if the patient is properly treated, and is kept
during convalescence from exciting or irritating
influences — unless there are hereditary tendencies
in this direction. . Doubtless, there are persons
who, in the course of time, would develop into stam-
merers, who suddenly begin because sickness has
quickly developed that which in a dormant condi-
tion had already existed. It occasionally follows
the ordinary diseases incident to childhood, those
chat are long continued and that sap the vitality,

BFFBCT OP STAMMERINQ 8l

and those that are accompanied by violent fevers or
convulsions. In many cases, if the sufiEerer has the
proper attention and is given some little care re-
garding his speech, if care is exercised not to excite
him or to call attention to his difficulty, and all
nervons influences are removed, the trouble will
disappear.

EFFECT OF STAMMERING

Chief in the mind of the stammerer is the incon-
venience in not being able to express his ideas with
ease and force. He grieves also that his affliction
sets him apart from his fellow-men, and makes him
an object of mirth or of compassion — either of
which is distasteful to a person of character. He
knows that to others speech is a matter of no con-
cern, and that when they employ it the mind is not
engaged in stud3ring word formation and in en-
deavoring to articulate ; he observes that in normal
speech the mind is on the thought, and that lan-
guage comes as naturally and as easily as walking
or laughing. Therefore he is brought into constant
contact with normal speech, and as constantly, by
comparison, beholds his own abnormality. He usu-
ally grows worse rather than better. He began
with a few sotmds which he found difficult to utter.
When he became painfully conscious of the difficulty
with these he avoided them when that was possible.
This makes him conscious of his speech. With this
feeling in mind he experiences an ever present fear
of words in general. This causes him to stumble

83 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

over Other combinations, and when he loses confi-
dence in his ability to utter these he tries in future
to avoid them. The more important the occasion
or the person addressed, the worse the utterance be-
comes, until finally he gives up trying to speak, ex-
cept by using a few of the easiest words, and even
these cost a struggle. Certain words and combina-
tions are discarded, for the reason that their utter-
ance becomes impossible.

The effect of this struggle, of this nervous fear,
and of this elimination goes deeper than he is will-
ing to admit. It makes a deep and lasting impres-
sion on his character. His mind has not received
its highest development, and his moral nature has
been dwarfed by jrielding to constant fear. The
mind develops in proportion to its ability to express
itself, and it is only through some form of communi-
cation that we attain any degree of intelligence.
Persons with deficient vocal organs, who have been
taught no form of communication, are usually
idiotic, but almost invariably when they have been
shown how they may express themselves, or when
speech has resulted from the removal of the physical
difficulty, they rapidly grow in intelligence. Stam-
mering, however, rarely develops until the person
has acquired at least a limited use of language, and,
too, one can usually express himself lamely, and at
times may be able to speak with considerable ease.
Therefore, that his mental and moral nature is
dwarfed by his affliction is not so apparent to him,
but it is a truth nevertheless. With his lack of
speech control, he must ever have less intellectual
capacity, and a lower moral stamina, than were he

EFFECT OF STAMMBRINQ 83

free from the trouble. Every time a person avoids
an expression which he wishes to employ but cannot,
he loses something of his mental and moral fibre.
The stammerer is apt to become secretive and mo-
rose. Naturally he will avoid the society of other
men. With this constant dread in his mind he
must become gloomy and ill-natured, and, whatever
he may be, it is safe to assume that his life and
character would be di£Eerent if he were free from
his impediment

The stammerer is naturally cut off from many so-
cial pleasures. He refuses to be placed in a position
where his diflSculty is noticed, and he becomes
aware in a thousand ways that it is noticed. Pity is
almost as galling as ridicule. The measure of his
affliction is always apparent to him by constant
comparison with the speech of other men. In many
cases, through years of annoyance and struggle, his
disposition becomes soured ; he is irritable and un-
stable; and what makes his disposition worse, per-
haps, is the fact that he knows his own ill-nature.
By his affliction he is limited, too, as to occupation.
Most of the vocations of life require speech, and
this is especially true of business. The stammerer
is practically cut off from the professions, or he is
discouraged and hampered in any of them. He
cannot become a salesman, or perform any duty
where it is necessary for him to meet people. Con-
sequently an occupation where only his hands are
engaged is almost the only one open to him. He
may have taste for some mechanical pursuit, or he
may not; and even in this, of course, his difficulty
becomes apparent. He becomes the subject of jest

84 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

for his fellow-workmen, is subject to the abuse of
irritable employers, and spends his dajrs often in
fear and misery. In traveling he is constantly em-
barrassed, as frequently he cannot ask a question
nor answer one. Is it any wonder, then, that his
whole nature suffers in consequence, and that his
life consists in a succession of miserable failures ?

IRRITATING CAUSES

Frequently stammerers are at fault themselves,
and are generously assisted by relatives, friends, and
acquaintances. Children with secretive or bashful
natures, and those who are nervous and fretful, are
apt pupils in stammering. Most people in sudden
fright, confusion, or other great excitement will
stammer, and thus certain mental habits, produc-
ing their own natural effects, continually encourage
and emphasize the stammering habit.

Just here our friends come to our assistance. The
boy is whipped for his fault, and scolded for his
stammering. His playmates imitate and mock him.
He is singled out as the butt of merry jests. A
terrible deformity, forsooth, is amusing. He with-
draws from his fellows, perhaps becomes sullen and
silent, and this only increases his difficulty.

Fear and sudden fright are frequent causes lead-
ing directly to vocal-hesitation. Children are flogged
for being afraid. This is, fortunately, less rare
than formerly, but all means of torture have not
yet disappeared. Oftentimes a child is called a
coward that is simply imaginative. It is put in a

IRRITATING CAUSES 83

dark room, where its fancy pictures all kinds of
weird creatures, which to it are half real, while its
more sedate and practical brother sees nothing but
the real objects, and is only ordinarily impressed
with the gloom. Think of the family, sitting around
the fire whispering of mysterious happenings —
which tales are supplemented by genuine hair-
raising stories by the servants — and then expect the
child to go to its room and in the dark compose its
mind to a sound sleep. Most children are afraid of
the dark, because they are made so, while, on the
other hand, we know of a little toddler, who has
never had her mind poisoned by mysterious happen-
ings, who finds great enjoyment in searching for
people or things in dark rooms.

Sudden fright is dangerous to the nerves of the
child* and therefore endangers speech. Numerous
cases of stammering have resulted from this. At
times the impediment lasts only for an instant; at
other times it recurs at intervals throughout life,
when the person is ill, nervous, or excited, and in
some others the trouble so originated remains as
a fixed habit. Sometimes these causes are unavoid-
able, at others they are deliberately planned. It is
rare sport to hide in the dark and suddenly spring
out at your victim, or to put strange objects in a
person's bed, or to walk abroad clothed in a sheet.
To the mind of the perpetrator it may be humorous,
but it is none the less criminal for that.

The diseases of childhood, too, furnish their pro-
portion of speech defects. When they are severe
and do not receive proper attention there are fre-
quently after-defects which result seriously. The

86 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

nervous system may be deranged, and the mental
and moral robustness, in consequence, becomes
weakened. Sometimes children are taken from the
sick room and placed in school, where they resume
the mental and nervous strain, with the additional
burden of * catching up* what they have lost by
reason of their absence. Perhaps they are too ill to
engage in sports, but their tasks must be accom-
plished. The result frequently is that their health
is undermined for life ; and that all the conditions
which make stammering possible are created.

American parents are too anxious for their chil-
dren to keep up with their classes and to make a
good showing. It is not an exaggeration to say that
there are thousands of victims of this folly, whose
nerves are wrecked for life. Health should be su-
preme. Children at times fall behind their classes
while doing their best, because they are not in
proper condition to perform their tasks. Frequently
when they are taken away and their health and
spirits are restored, they enter again upon their
work with zest and accomplish with ease that which
before was irksome.

STATISTICAL RECORD

WITH the idea of presenting a correct and authen-
tic table of statistics useful to teachers, stu-
dents, and stammerers and interesting to the general
pubUc, the writers have gathered together, as the

STATISTICAL RECORD 87

result of much investigation and labor, facts that
will no doubt prove valuable to those interested in
the study of the subject of stammering. The fol-
lowing questions, which form the basis from which
the facts relating to the subject have been gath-
ered, form in substance the matter contained in a
printed question-blank that we submitted to several
thousand persons who stammer and who, after fill-
ing out the blank spaces on the sheet with answers
to the various questions asked, returned the ques-
tion-blank to us and received in reply our written
diagnoses of their cases. In this manner we have
been able to gather together much valuable infor-
mation relating to the subject, and we beg to sub-
mit it to the reader as the result of our investigation
and experience. The question-form as here sub-
mitted does not appear in the exact style in which
it was sent out, as it would be difficult to conform
the text to the size and dimensions of the page
upon which we have also added the answers as they
appear on one of the forms submitted. The name
and address of the patient have been omitted. An-
swers are printed in italics : —

Age ? Thirty, .

Height ? Five and one-half feet.

Weight ? One hundred and sixteen pounds.

Oocapation ? Houseworh,

Married or single ? Married,

How many children have you ? Two,

If yoa have children, how many of them stammer ? One,

At what age did you commence to stammer ? All my
Itfe,

Do either of your parents stammer ? If so, which ome ?
Neither.

88 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

Have you any relatives who stammer ? If so, how many
and what relation are they to you ? One uncU^ two cousins,
one brother, and two sisters.

To what is your stammering attribatable ; heredity, disease,
sickness, fright, or mimicry ? Fright and sickness.

Does your difficulty embarrass yon before strangers ? Yes.

Can 3rou read aloud in a room, by yourself, withoat diffi-
culty ? No,

Do you stammer often, occasionally or seldom ? Often.

Do you contort your features, move your muscles, or draw
your limbs when attempting to speak ? If so, to what extent ?
I contort my features and muscles when I at t em ft to speak.

Under what conditions do you experience the greatest diffi-
culty ? In trying to speak certain names, such as telling
the names of my brothers.

Do you stammer worse in argument than in ordinary con-
versation ? / stammer worse in argument than in ordinary
conversation.

Words beginning with what letters give you the most diffi-
culty ? d, /, /, b.

Do you make a hissing sound, or the sound of escaping
breath, in your effort to speak ? Sound of escaping breath.

Do you rapidly repeat one word or syllable before yon utter
the following ones ? I do not repeat.

Do you stand transfixed, unable to utter a sound ? I do.

Can you sing without any difficulty ? Yes.

Does your impediment bother you when very angry ? Yes.

Are there some persons to whom you can talk without any
difficulty ? At times.

Do you use tobacco or cigarettes ? If so, to what extent ?
No.

Do you use liquor ? If so, to what extent ? No.

Do you lisp as well as stammer ? No.

Are you of a nervous or extremely netvocis te m perament ?
Very nervous at times.

Your disposition ? Happy.

What is your physical condition at present ? Poor.

Have you ever tried elsewhere to be cured ? If so, where
and how long were you under treatment ? Never have tried
elsewhere to be cured.

STATISTICAL RECORD 89

Do yoa articulate your words distinctly when you do not
stammer ? Yes,

Write on the back of the sheet any further particulars re-
garding your case to which you wish to call our attention.

The reader will notice in the form here submitted,
the patient, who is married, says that one of her
children stammers and also that one of her uncles,
two cousins, a brother and two sisters stammer,
which would naturally point to a case of hereditary
stammering.

She attributes her stammering to fright and sick-
ness and in this she may be correct, as the difficulty
of stammering might never have manifested itself
but for the aggravation of fright which apparently
was followed by sickness.

The fact that she cannot read aloud in a room by
herself is evidence of a case of stammering, as in
cases of stammering there is exhibited this peculiar-
ity which is not found in cases of stuttering, and
rarely in cases of the combined type. The stam-
merer usually behaves better when observed, and
gives greater evidence of his difficulty when vigi-
lance is relaxed, the opposite of which is true in
cases of stuttering.

The reader will notice, too, that she says she is
embarrassed somewhat in the presence of strangers,
which is a common characteristic of stammering.

She says she stammers often and that she con-
torts her facial muscles in her effort to speak, which
is further evidence of a case of stammering, espe-
cially when we take into consideration the fact that
her difficulty is more apparent in her e£Eort to entm-
ciate certain names. The stammerers' difficulty

90 STAMMBRINQ AND STUTTERING

is purely a mental one, and in persons of this type
the mind selects in advance the difficulty to be en-
countered.

Special letters and particular sounds cause the
greatest difficulty, and in some cases the obstruction
is so marked that utterance is impossible. In this
case the closed consonants, d^ /, /, b^ appear to be
particularly difficult; and since the manifestation of
stammering in the utterance of these letters is
usually violent, owing to the absolute obstruction of
the breath in an effort to articulate their sounds,
the probability is that under such condition the
patient suffers great mental torture and agony.

One other indication of stammering is the cir-
cumstance that the patient, in a letter accompany-
ing the question-form, says that in attempting to
speak, she commences with the lungs empty, which
is another characteristic of certain types of stam-
mering. Such persons first expel the air from their
lungs and then try to effect utterance. This habit
results in mental fatigue and physical exhaustion,
and is usually accompanied by a feeling of lassitude
about the diaphragm.

There is no repetition of words, the patient add-
ing that in her effort to speak she stands transfixed,
unable to utter a sound, which is a further evidence
of a case of stammering.

The fact that she can sing without difficulty, how-
ever, is an evidence that the case is not of the most
severe type. It has been remarked numbers of
times that stammerers can sing without any mani-
festation of their speech impediment, but such is
not true in all cases, as the writers have known

TABLE OP STATISTICS 91

some persons who, owing to their stammering, were
equally as unable to sing as to speak.

The fact that there are some persons to whom
she can talk without hindrance is further evidence
that the case is one of stammering, though not of
the most severe type.

Such a person can be entirely cured with proper
discipline and instruction, which of course are re-
quirements in the treatment of all cases.

In the manner above indicated the writers have
studied many thousand question-blanks filled out in
the handwriting of the sufferers whose cases they
describe, and from the information thus obtained
have been able to compile the following statistical
record: —

TABLE OP STATISTICS

The following table represents a statistical record
compiled from one thousand cases of stammering
and stuttering. All cases are recorded as heredi-
tary where hereditary tendency was evidenced: —

NUMBBK

OF Casbs.

Heredity 394

No hereditary tendency known — Mimicry 104

No hereditary tendency known — Sickness 159

No hereditary tendency known — Pright 94

No hereditary tendency known — Association 249

Commenced to stammer before 5 years of age 504

Commenced to stammer between the ages of 5 and la . . . 391

C om m en ced to stammer between the ages of 10 and 15 . . . 87

Commenced to stammer between the ages of 15 and 20. . . 13

Commeaoed to stammer after 20 years of age. 5

92 STUTTERING AND STAMMERING

NUMBBK

ofCabbs.

Good physical condition 756

Fair physical condition 178

Poor physical condition 66

Male 822

Female 178

Diagnosed as stammering 647

Diagnosed as stuttering 353

Speech defects associated with stammering 3

Malformation of organs i

In estimating the number of cases of stammering
and stuttering here recorded, we included (as stam-
mering) cases due to heredity, sickness, and fright,
all of which show evidence of the mental condition
peculiar to stammering. In our estimate of the
number of cases of stuttering recorded we have
added together those due to mimicry and association
in which the history and the manifestations point to
a condition acquired or physical. In many cases
recorded as stuttering, however, it is difficult to say
whether or not a condition predisposed to the de-
velopment of the defect may not have existed in the
beginning, which condition might have remained
dormant but for the misfortune of mimicry or asso-
ciation. In such cases if the condition is inherited
the difficulty is really that of stammering, and thus
it is possible, if the facts could be more accurately
ascertained, the number of cases tecorded as stam-
mering would be increased while the number re-
corded as stuttering would be decreased. There
are also included^ under stuttering, cases that might

TABLE OP STATISTICS 93

be properly termed combined-stammering-and-stut-
tering, since the difficulty, which was originally
ph3rsical, evidences also to a slight degree the symp-
toms of stammering. It is sometimes difficult in
such cases to tell the degree to which stammering
has progressed, many cases of this kind later on in
life develop into genuine stammering.

If there was any possible way in which the extent
of the original defect of stammering could be de-
tected, the certainty in calculation as to the number
of cases of stammering and stuttering respectively
could be easily determined; but such being impos-
sible we have based our calculation entirely upon
the information furnished, and consider our esti-
mates as to the relative proportion in numbers as
approximately correct.

Out of a total number of one thousand cases ex-
amined but three persons addicted to stammering
were found to be otherwise troubled with defective
utterance, and in these cases the defect was lisping,
not by any means difficult to correct. It is rather
interesting to note this fact, from the circumstance
that many of the earlier investigators attributed
stammering to malformation of the vocal organs.
In this connection it will be noticed that but one
case was found where there was any real malforma-
tion, and in this case the malformation resulted from
accident, the shock from which in turn caused stam-
mering.

One other interesting fact is that 39.4 per cent., or
more than one-third of the cases examined, showed
hereditary tendency. Thus it is true that a large
majority of those who stammer inherit the tendency

94 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

from their ancestors and are not by any means di-
rectly responsible for their unfortunate condition.

The fact that 24.9 per cent., or one-quarter of the
cases examined, were the results of association,
should serve as warning to persons who needlessly
expose themselves or their children to contact and
association with stammerers. Many persons form
the habit of stammering in this manner, whereas
with a little care the trouble could be permanently
avoided.

It is shown that more than 50 per cent of those
who stammer commence to experience difficulty be-
fore the age of five years, and from this we suggest
that children who give evidence of stammering be
carefully guarded. They should be instructed with
reference to their incorrect and unnatural manner
of utterance, and taught to substitute for it correct
enunciation. There is no better time at which to
begin the treatment than during the child-life ; the
old adage *the earlier the better,* or •a stitch in
time saves nine,* being especially applicable in
cases of this kind.

Another interesting fact evidenced as the result
of our investigation is that 75.6 per cent., or three-
fourths of the number of cases investigated, re-
ported good health, from which it would appear
that stammerers as a class are up to the average
physically. Klencke attributes stammering to
scrofulous tendency, but in this he was evidently
mistaken. We have known but few cases attributa-
ble to this cause. We have not found stammerers
as a class •delicate,* •weakly,* nor •spoiled,* as
reported by Klencke. On the contrary, after per-

TREATMENT 95

sonal contact with hundreds, and in fact thousands,
of stammerers we wish to state that as a class (with
but few exceptions) such as we have met have been
intelligent, up to the average physically; the only
difference observable being their nervousness or
their timid reserve, attributable wholly to their
stammering, which latter is evidenced by the fact
that when they have been cured of their stammer-
ing their nervousness, as well as their timidity, has
rapidly disappeared.

Another fact shown is that more than 82 per cent.
of those who suffer from stammering are males,
while the number of females thus afflicted is less
than 18 per cent.

TREATMENT OF THOSE BEGINNING

TO STAMMER

IN NEARLY all cascs dcfccts of speech arise early in
life, and usually at some period between four
and ten years. Most cases show their first S3rmp-
toms about the time the boy begins to attend
school. His peculiarity may not have been much
noticed at home, but now he comes into close rela-
tions with many other children who are thoughtless
and mischievous, and any peculiarity is seized upon
and becomes the subject for sport. Then, too, a
certain nervous strain begins, for in ordinary school-
life the competitive system is at its highest pres-
sure. The child is under a nervous strain, which

96 STAMMBRINO AND STUTTBRINO

has a tendency to aggravate any defect in speech.
Fear of not knowing his lesson causes stumbling
and hesitation, and smiles and laughter heighten
his difficulty. His teacher may not sympathize
with him, and may show annoyance at his vocal in-
ability. On the playground his difficulty is the
subject of mockery, and thus every agent to make
the stammerer is present. He does not always
receive full sympathy at home, and rarely does he
get intelligent treatment. Parents become im-
patient, his brothers and sisters mimic him, and
altogether he becomes discouraged in his attempts
to speak properly. All this helps to establish the
habit firmly.

There have been cases where parents have threat-
ened to flog their children if they did not cease
stammering, and they have even executed the
threat. It may be doubted whether this remedy
has ever succeeded, as in certain cases persons
grow out of the habit when it is not established,
but in most cases the treatment is barbarous, and
produces the opposite result of that intended. It
makes the child more nervous, as added to his
difficulty is the fear of whipping, which alone is
sufficient to cause stammering. Another mistake
is to let the child alone, thinking he will outgrow
his defect. Sometimes he does, but usually he does
not, and through the lapse of time his difficulty be-
comes confirmed. It is true of many diseases that
we may outgrow them, but the better plan is to as-
sist nature in every way possible.

In many cases, where the child is beginning to
show speech defect, a little intelligence, care and

TREATMENT 97

persistence will be found sufficient to eradicate the
trouble.

Is school-life against him? Do his schoolmates
annoy him? Is the strain of competition too much
on his nerves ? Take him away for a time, for a
year or two if necessary. Allow him to associate
only with those who sympathize with him and who
treat him kindly. Provide if necessary a private
tutor for him for a year, and give him good moth-
erly home instruction. Attend to his health and
diet, let him exercise in the open air, study a sys-
tem of exercises in breathing and articulation, in-
struct him during certain periods daily, and he may
almost certainly be cured. Attend to his speech as
you would to his health, for abnormality in the for-
mer may cause him more misery than in the latter.

If he begin to stammer, in consequence of fright
or after sickness, exercise every care. Do not let
him be excited, do not encourage him to talk much
at first. When his strength is restored, do not tax
him with trying tasks — that may make him ner-
vous. Treat him with great kindness. Gradually
he may be given exercises in breathing and in artic-
ulation, but do not scold and don't whip him.

Below is the testimony of a few persons as to the
origin of their trouble : One imitated a plajnnate at
about twelve years of age and contracted stam-
mering, from which she was never afterwards free.

Another had a slight hesitancy in speech when he
w^nt to school. He was embarrassed when the
teacher asked his name, and could not answer. The
children teased him, and from that day he began to
stammer, which time confirmed.
••-7

^S STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

A boy put frogs in his brother's bed; the result
was violent convulsions, followed by stammering.

A boy of eight was so frightened by a sudden an-
gry command of his father that he fell ; he stam-
mered ever after.

Another talked a great deal while ill with whoop-
ing-cough; began to stammer, and the habit grew
upon recovery.

A girl imitated a playmate and contracted the
habit of stuttering, which she could not afterwards
break.

A child stumbled in pronouncing a word in school,
was kept in after class, and the children teased and
laughed at him. Stammering developed immedi-
ately.

A girl had scarlet fever, and while still very weak
had for a companion a deaf aunt to whom she was
compelled to shout. Speech-hesitation and finally
stammering resulted.

A boy had a playmate who stammered, whom he
imitated unconsciously and contracted the habit.

Another had diphtheria, and started to school
while still weak ; he began to show hesitation, and
the strain of school and the ridicule of his play-
mates helped to develop stuttering.

A boy was suddenly asked a question and could
not answer from confusion. He gradually devel-
oped stammering.

A young man went to a theatre, heard an actor
stammer, and found upon returning home that he
himself had contracted the habit.

A child fell down stairs when seven years of age
and through fright stammered ever after.

TREATMENT 99

A woman about to become a mother was subjected
to great fright by fire ; when her child grew to the
age of three it developed stammering of a most se-
vere type.

A boy five years of age being tickled on the feet
with a straw by an older brother developed stam-
mering immediately.

An actor who imitated the stammerer's contor-
tions for a number of years himself became a stam-
merer and was compelled to undergo treatment for
the difficulty.

A boy who went swimming in a mill pond got out
beyond his depth, narrowly escaped drowning and
stammered ever after.

A girl who stammered told us that both of her
parents stammered, her grandfather on one side of
the family and her grandmother on the other side
both stammered. Stammering due to heredity.

A sensitive child was ridiculed by its playmates
and stammered terribly.

We know of countless cases under these various
heads and the most usual causes are shown to be
imitation, sickness, fright, ridicule, and combina-
tions of these.

DISCIPLINE— MENTAL. MORAL.

PHYSICAL

IN SUMMING Up the ideas necessary to the cure of
stammering and stuttering we may condense
them in one word — discipline. The one inflexible
law in this world is contained in the command — do
right. We err through ignorance, or through our
own indolence or perversity. Knowledge is not
necessarily power; the steam engine is not power.
Knowledge and proper use combined produce good
results. Almost every power possessed by man
owes its strength and force to proper use ; yet here
knowledge comes again to our rescue. There are
limits to our capacity and endurance, and our pow-
ers must not be overtaxed. In order that we may
not fall into this error many things must be bal-
anced up. Time, disposition, and our own peculiar
temperament require consideration. Are we weak
physically, and do we impose on ourselves prolonged
and arduous mental tasks ? These and many other
questions each person must answer for himself.

We desire for every purpose health and normal
activity. Health of body results from many causes.
Heredity has been at work preparing the way for
us generations before we were bom. When we as-
sume control there are certain tendencies well estab-
lished. Through an exercise of the proper means
we may outgrow or neutralize many favorable
tendencies, or we may encourage and develop them.
Our living should be normal, and the body should

(lOO)

DISCIPLINE lOI

not be considered something that we may abuse
with impunity. A low physical condition and vari-
ons disorders are the methods the body has of en-
tering protest at ill treatment. We should be
reasonable in our habits. Diet, proper air, regular
exercises, are all indispensable. Starvation and
gluttony are equally injurious, and when self-
imposed are equally reprehensible. Exercise, too,
must be adapted to the needs of the individual.
What one could accomplish would kill another.
Modem conditions, as far as labor is concerned,
have imposed almost all the physical exercise on one
class and withheld it from others.

• A sane mind in a sound body,* is the more re-
cent ideal ; and this is in recognition of the funda-
mental character of the constitution of man. While
many great men have been naturally feeble, yet all
will admit that, from the mental standpoint alone,
health of body is much to be desired. But we are
coming to recognize, by slow degrees, the value of
mentality as an agency in the proper development
of the physical man. There is no doubt that that
exercise is best which requires mental activity.
Hence games of skill, or in which there is the ele-
ment of contest, are the best. There is no reason
why mental development should be left to a class,
and others content themselves with living mere
animal lives, like beasts of burden. No matter
what may be our position or occupation, a certain
intellectual development is desirable. Every man
should be constantly adding to his store of knowl-
edge and enlarging in some way the sphere of his
mental activity. Perhaps but few persons so apply

I02 STAMMERING AND STUTTKJUNa

their minds that they get the best results. Thou-
sands ruin their health in study. The mind can do
so much and no more, forcing it beyond this point
results in depression, nervousness or collapse. We
have heard of students engaged at their books for
fifteen hours dailv. When this is continued for a
considerable time there must be a breakdown. It
is impossible for one to engage in concentrated men-
tal eflFort for more than eight hours daily on an
average. One who spends more time is only half
studying, while the effort to keep at it is exceed-
ingly trying. If we would perform every task with
our whole mind, and with a concentrated effort,
how much time we should save, and how much bet-
ter in every way we should be!

Then come moral discipline and development.
These make character, modify temperament, and
assist in every line of human activity. The will
of man is a God-like power, and if properly used
it makes man a most superb being. By its exercise
man becomes a great factor in the shaping of his
own destiny; but it is a power, too, that demands
exercise and develops along the lines of its use. A
man without purpose is like a rudderless ship at sea:
he must drift with the tide and be at the mercy of
every breeze. Such a person may be intelligent,
but must be impotent in every relation. What we
should do day by day, and what we would become,
are determined not simply by knowledge, but by a
directing energy which controls our activities along
the lines our minds have predetermined.

Failure and wrongdoing are due to a lack of self-
direction rather than to insufficient knowledge.

DISCIPLINE 103

Having discussed this trinity — the physical, the
mental and the moral natures — there is a conclud-
ing thought which may apply to the stammerer.
They must be developed in unison, and aid and as-
sist each other. Coordination is a most desirable
quality. The physical nature must obey the mind.
The vocal organs must be brought under control,
and in order to do this our mental operations must
be clear and the demand reasonable. When we
think too rapidly or disconnectedly for the vocal
organs to perform their duty they fail from the
necessities of the case, and thus form the habit of
disobedience. Then comes the opportunity for the
will to assert itself. It must compel the mind to
set reasonable and exact tasks, and see that the
vocal organs are brought into subjugation again.

You can dictate to a stenographer so rapidly or so
brokenly that he cannot perform his task ; the mind
may impose similar tasks on the vocal apparatus.
Continue this for years, and it may become unable
to perform its functions under any conditions. Now,
in some cases, if you impose on yourself the task of
clearly thinking out every word, clause and sen-
tence before you attempt utterance, the organs of
speech may respond, but if they do not, then you
will have to go back to the beginning and patiently
but persistently relearn the processes of speech.
You may help yourself, you may even effect a cure,
but if circumstances warrant, you will do better to
place yourself in the hands of a competent tutor, as
this is the most certain and the quickest way. The
ideal institution for the cure of stammering should
be planned to meet all of these conditions. It

I04 8TAMMBRINO AND STUTTERING

should have the pupil under control at all times;
the habits of the stammerer, diet, exercise, vocal
drill, and respiration should be under control, not
for certain hours, but all the time, and he should be
encouraged to discipline himself. Because these
conditions are lacking many teachers faiL

METHOD OF TREATMENT

WE MAY gather from historical sources that stam-
merers have always existed, and we also find
that efforts have always been made to remedy the
evil.

All sorts of views as to the origin of the difficulty
have been maintained, and from these we get an
idea of the treatment pursued. They may be con-
densed as follows : —

That the trouble is purely physical, and is due to
improper manipulation of the muscles, especially
the muscles of the larynx, tongue, and lips. Con-
sequently, exercises have been devised by which
these parts may be strengthened and made flexible.

Another class have argued that speech hesitancy
comes from physical weakness or abnormality, and
that all elocutionary exercises are not only unneces-
sary but often injurious.

Others, who claim that it is a species of moral
cowardice, contend that through determined and
persistent effort all these faults may be eradicated.
Their suggestions are aimed at securing control of

METHOD OP TREATMENT 105

the organs of speech by such mental control as will
not allow us to become angry, nervous, embarrassed
or otherwise excited.

Others have claimed that it is purely a nervous
matter, and that whatever helps to give control and
evenness of the nerves assists in eliminating the
trouble. To that end they recommend the acquisi-
tion of an equable temperament, ease and delibera-
tion. That one should abstain from all excesses,
take sufficient exercise, and eat only the most nutri-
tious food suitable to normal nervous action.

The thoughtful student will find in all of these
views the germs of both truth and error. Half-
truths are dangerous things, and in this case have
oftentimes led to disaster. That the manifestation
of the trouble is muscular no one will deny, and
physical exercises are most valuable for the reason
that they render the muscles flexible and strong,
and thereby enable us to speak with less physical
effort Then, too, healthy muscular effort is a tonic
to the nerves and has a reflex action on the mind.

The theory that stammering is a species of moral
cowardice needs qualification and consideration.
It has never been shown that the stammerer is par-
ticularly deficient in either mental or moral stamina;
and yet this thought, too, contains a truth. He
needs higher morality, clearer insight and stronger
will than the average man, to enable him to combat
and overcome his affliction, and while elocutionary
exercises are invaluable, that high moral purpose
and determined effort, which accomplish so much
elsewhere, become most potent in the battles with
speech-hesitation.

io6

STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

That it is a nervous matter, too, is evident; but
the will controls the nerves, as witness the physi-
cians' remedies for hjrsteria. It also keeps us from
putting ourselves in those mental and physical con-
ditions where the nerves are unduly excited A
high moral purpose will prevent all forms of indul-
gence when the effect is deleterious, and will pre-
scribe and insist on proper habits of living. To
sum up the matter, we find that stammering is
rarely if ever due to faulty vocal organs, that the
fault directly is with the organs which are controlled
by a set of muscles, that these muscles must be
trained to act readily, flexibly, easily and precisely.
Then these are controlled by the nerves, which
must be rendered healthy by proper living, by
exercise, and an abstention from exciting or ener-
vating influences. All this machinery is in turn
controlled by the mind, which must keep its poise,
must avoid undue stimulation or depression, and
must with an unflagging purpose pursue the course
of treatment mapped out to effect the cure. Hence
this subject has a three-fold aspect — psychological,
physical, and elocutionary.

MORAL INFLUENCES BENEFICIAL

THE laws of nature are inexorable, and, whether
they be moral or physical, when they are not
observed the guilty one must pay the penalty. The
sins of the fathers are visited upon the children
unto the third and fourth generations; but the chil-
dren, fortunately, do not have to bear them all.
The guilty party himself, frequently, is called upon
to expiate them. What a man is physically de-
pends largely upon the elements he takes into his
body, what kind of air inflates his lungs, what food
and drink fills his stomach and engages the atten-
tion of the digestive organs. This is also true of
the mental or moral nature. It must be fed, and
frequently it consumes poisonous substances, until
an artificial appetite prevails. The choice must be
determined by predisposition and by one's own in-
alienable right to select for himself.

Perhaps there is no branch of the treatment of
speech defects more difficult and delicate to handle
than this; but, nevertheless, the conscientious
teacher must consider it cautiously but fearlessly.
And the student himself will have an additional in-
centive to keep his mind and spirit on a clean, ele-
vated plane, when he learns that in addition to the
great rewards which lie in morality, a direct and
favorable influence will be exerted on his speech.

Secret vices must be discarded, by reason of both
their moral and physical effects. A cunning, secre-
tive habit of mind must be corrected. Then, too,

(107)

Xo8 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

morality is not only negative but it is also positive.
It consists not only in leaving undone the things
which we ought not to do, but also in doing those
things which we ought to do. The habit of mina
which is clean is conducive to good vocality. One
who could open up his mind at any time for the
world's gaze, who can look any one in the face fear-
lessly, has little cause to stammer; but if he does,
the difficulty then probably comes from diffidence,
excessive excitability or nervous derangement, and
may usually be overcome without much difficulty.
But let it be remembered that the stammerer whose
moral nature is such that he constantly feels a sense
of inequality or g^ilt, and whose own judgment sits
constantly to accuse him, has little chance of effect-
ing a cure unless he reforms.

By morality we do not mean being religious in
any sectarian sense. We mean, rather, intellectual
and moral probity, the entertaining of pure ideas
and proper motives. One should have some occu-
pation to engage his attention, he should pursue
some line of reading or of thought that is elevating,
and abstain from that which is degrading. In
short, he must make of himself a better man in order
to cure his defect. It is often true that the stam-
merer is no worse morally than other people, but in
order to cure his defect he must be on a higher
plane than the average man. It is certain, too, that
a low moral nature always assists the development
of stammering when one is at all predisposed in
that direction.

Few of us realize in ourselves the possibilities of
an inflexible purpose, directed along proper lines.

MORAL INFLUENCES BENEFICIAL 109

Talent and genius may fail of accomplishment; but
persistent eflfort — rarely. It is the power which
helps us to surmount all obstacles and which turns
defeat into victory. Men have accomplished and
are accomplishing wonders every day, simply by
not knowing when they are beaten.

Almost every person with a speech difficulty could
overcome it himself if he would. First, it requires
determination to study the subject. After he knows
what habits he must form, he finds it hard to live
up to them. There are certain exercises which
must be followed regularly and persistently. This,
he determines, is too great a task. If he goes to
some institution for a cure he selects one where the
rules are not ngid, or he hesitates to follow the in-
structions given him. He has not within him the
will power to effect a cure. This is true of a tjrpe.
Others need only to have the way pointed out, —
their courage and persistence are equal to the
task.

His habits should be regular and normal, and un-
less this is insisted upon it is practically impossible
to remedy the defect It will not do to arg^e that
you are more regular and careful than many other
men who do not stammer. The fact is that you do
stammer, and, therefore, an extra effort is required
of you if you desire to eradicate this plague.

It is unnecessary to state that all vicious indul-
gences must be discarded — such as intoxication, or
secret immorality ; but there are other habits which
constantly aggravate the trouble by keeping up nerv-
ous irritation or depletion. One should so order
his life that his general health is kept in the highest

no . STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

possible state ; his mind free from great anxiety and
care. He should arrange to do his work with the
least possible strain and avoid those things which
he knows irritate or depress.

Of course, it is easy to exclaim against that fate
which has made you a stammerer; and you may
wonder why those around you who do not live tem-
perately, and who break almost every law which we
deem necessary to a cure, do not have your afflic-
tion. The principle is this: when you are ill from
any cause you must exercise greater care in every
particular than other men ; what you eat or drink,
your exercise and your mental temperament are
subjects for consideration. He who stammers has
a bad habit or disease, and in order that it may be
eradicated he must be willing to control himself in
every particular. This is beneficial in two ways:
by establishing normal habits of living the whole
system is built up and put in healthy tone, and by
this exercise of self-restraint and self-government
the will is strengthened. This is one of the most
necessary requirements in securing the proper con-
trol of vocalization.

There is another inducement that lies in the for-
mation of proper habits. A person enjoys better
health, has a clearer mind and a higher moral tone,
and, therefore, life for him takes on a brighter col-
oring. Certainly virtue is its own reward. It is a
fact that those persons who have been badly afflicted
with stammering, and who have been cured, are
almost invariably men of higher physical and moral
tone than their average associates. This leads us,
then, to oflFer some suggestions to those who have

MORAL INPLUSNCBS BENSPICIAL iii

made up their minds to eradicate the evil, and these
suggestions are offered, not because they are plausi-
ble, but because they are necessary.

The first question that should engage our atten-
tion is that of diet. What a man is physically,
and to an extent mentally, depends largely upon
what he takes into his body. Every person is a
furnace in which air, solids and liquids are con-
sumed ; these are the elements necessary to keep up
combustion. These elements are constantly dis-
integrating and, in their new form, entering the
blood and being changed into nerve, muscle, blood,
bone and brain. A poison permeates the whole sys-
tem. Some materials are difficult to consume and
cause the fires to bum low and almost to go out.
Therefore, wliat we eat and drink, when we eat
and drink, and haw we eat and drink, become ques-
tions requiring our best thought and control.

In many respects we are superior to the animal,
and it is shown in this particular. The brute's ap-
petite is governed by desire, into which smell and
taste enter; it will eat what its appetite and capacity
demand. But the human being, in addition to
these instincts, has judgment based on science and
observation. What he craves may be shown by
reason to be poisonous. In recovering from an at-
tack of indigestion he may desire pork and pickles,
but judgment says they would probably kill him.
He knows that certain foods are nutritious, others
difficult to digest. He can tell in a general way
what elements each contain and what effect they
will have on the system. Besides this, he recog-
nizes that occupation is a determining factor, that

1 1 2 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

the laboring man can digest and assimilate elements
that would kill a sedentary person. All this knowl-
edge he may use, and he disobeys it at his peril.

It is a scientific fact that in civilized communities
men take into their bodies a considerable proportion
of food which is not digested or assimilated, and
which, therefore, is a positive injury rather than a
benefit. This undigested and unnecessary amount
equals from one-fifth to two-fifths of the total food
consumed. It will be seen readily that this acts as
a clog and a poison ; the digestive organs are over-
crowded, and there is often fermentation in the
stomach. Consequently, many suflEer from drow-
siness, heaviness, and various forms of dyspepsia,
and from such people the patent medicine nos-
trums receive their principal support. From this
mere animal feeding the laboring man receives
some relief, but one of sedentary habits must suf-
fer the full penalty.

Then, too, what we shall eat becomes a question
of grave importance and depends on our occupa-
tion, predisposition and the general state of health.
There are certain rules which apply to all men, and
others which fit individual cases; therefore, a man
must study himself and follow his own diagnosis.
It is not our purpose to tell what should be eaten
and when. Any person with average intelligence
knows, and doctors and scientists are constantly
giving advice and suggestions. Suffice it ta say,
that certain foods lie in the stomach for hours, and
at times for days, without digestion, while others,
equally rich in nutriment, may be digested and
assimilated in a short time; and, too, that certain

MORAL INPLUBNCBS BENBPICIAJL 113

elements contain peculiar qualities which may be
valuable to strengthen a particular ftmction.

When food should be taken is a simpler matter;
regularity is the important consideration. A proper
amount of wholesome food may be taken every two
hours, or every five hours, and, perhaps we could
accustom ourselves to eat but once daily with no ill
effects. Habit is everjrthing, so long as it does not
overstep the bounds of our natural capacity. Let
the amotmt of food to be taken be represented by 10
units; if the habit is regular it may be as follows:
breakfast, 3; dinner, 4; supper, 3; or: breakfast, 3;
luncheon, 3; dinner, 4; or: early breakfast, 2; late
breakfast, 3; dinner, 4; late dinner, i; or: breakfast,
4; dinner, 6. The amount in all cases is the same,
and when the habit is established there will be no
difficulty in the digestive organs conforming to it;
but one who changes this formula from day to day
will experience difficulty.

Grown persons, as well as children, are constantly
surprising their stomachs at unexpected moments
with unexpected things ; the result is a loss of ap-
petite, nervousness, and irritability, as well as per-
manent troubles of indigestion, from which many
other troubles may spring. The following is a
sample day in the experience of the digestive organs
of a child, where the sui'prises are frequent —
Breakfast : ham, eggs and coffee ; ten o'clock : a piece
of pie; twelve: some poor candy; one (luncheon):
soup, cold meat, cake and pudding; three: bananas;
five: more candy; seven: roast, vegetables and more
pie; nine: ice-cream and cake; ten: to bed; twelve:

attack of indigestion (mother wonders why); one:
s .<«— 8

1 14 STAMMERING AMD STUTTERING

doctor; three years later: funeral; cause: dispensa-
tion of Providence.

Enjoyment of our food is an important factor in
digestion, and only he who eats the proper kinds,
and in moderation, can enjoy it. The best sauce is
a good appetite, and the appetite will be good if
held under proper control. Proper food, properly
prepared, taken at regular times, and in proper
quantities, are the first requisites to health.

STIMULANTS— EXERCISE

LIQUOR. — While food is an essential to life, and
only its abuse requires consideration, there are
other elements taken into the system which are pos-
itively harmful in all instances, and we can only
recommend to the stammerer that he avoid them,
as they are a benefit to no one. We refer to stimu-
lants and narcotics. The appetite for these is a
false one. When it seems natural it is only because
it has been cultivated by us ; or perchance it was
artificially created in our ancestors, and we have in-
herited it along with many other undesirable tend-
encies. Men do not naturally enjoy the taste for
liquors, but it may be developed. Originally, per-
haps, men indulge in intoxicants for the exhilaration
that follows ; and to-day there are men who indulge
only for similar reasons. Cold science, however,
has shown that the system does not need stimulants,
save perhaps in rare and desperate cases, and that

STIMULANTS— EXERCISE 1 15

they are an injury rather than a benefit. The ex-
hilaration which they produce is unnatural and
must be paid for. The pendulum swings as far the
other way, and depression, physically and mentally,
is the result. When one attempts to keep up the
exhilaration by constant indulgence, the result is
determined, and the terrors of delirium tremens and
untimely death follow. The stammerer or stutterer
who abuses his system by constant indulgence in
intoxicants is more deeply impressing his defect,
and he may never hope for improvement or cure
until the practice is stopped entirely. If he cannot
stop, or will not, he has not sufficient will power
and moral stamina to warrant any hope for the
elimination of his impediment of utterance.

Tobacco. — The taste for tobacco is acquired, and
it acts directly on the nerves. There are persons
who are so affected by its use that they are con-
stantly in a state where complete mental and phys-
ical control is impossible. The system does not
naturally crave it, and, indeed, men frequently use
tobacco when it is half repulsive to them. It be-
comes a mere nervous habit, and is done half for
something to do. Any standard physiology, or any
reputable physician, will advise against the habit.
That it is injurious to any person is certain, for no
one will advise others to smoke or chew, and no one
will defend the habit excepting when they them-
selves are its devotees. We urge the stammerer,
then, if he has the habit, to give it up. Suffice it to
say, that the nervous control of the tobacco-user is
not normal, and hence the correction of speech de-
fects, under such circumstances, will be practically

Il6 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

impossible. As to the habitual use of drugs of any
sort for stimulation, we can only say that one who
cannot control the habit will lack both that moral
fibre and the physical control which are imperative
in this matter.

Excitability. — There are other habits which are
harmful and which have an irritating tendency and
aggravate speech defects. Some persons are always
excited and in nervous haste. It is shown in con-
versation and in every movement. They cannot sit
quietly, even when they have nothing to do. They
will walk the floor or constantly move their hands
and feet. Their speech is nervous and irritating.
They are never in repose — even in sleep they toss
and squirm. They, as well as those around them,
are always on the jump, and at high pressure they
become cross and irritable. As a result, less is
accomplished in any pursuit, for the reason that
clear thinking and careful execution are out of the
question. Whole families live on this strain, all
from mere habit. It should be and may be eradi-
cated. If any one is afflicted with a speech defect
under these conditions, this is one irritating cause
that must be removed.

Pure Air Necessary. — We are g^dually awaken-
ing to the importance of pure air as a matter of
health, and smce the whole physical nature owes
its highest tone largely to this, its relation to speech
defects will be apparent. Persons whose occupa
tions keep them much in close offices, and who sleep
in rooms close and ill-ventilated, cannot be in a
healthy state. Good air is to the body what it is to
a lamp — shut off the supply and the light is extin-

STIMULANTS —EXERCISE 1 1 7

guished. One should insist on proper ventilation.
Many arrange the matter by throwing open the
doors and windows in summer and sleeping in a
draft. In winter they close every crack because
the air is cold, but cold air does not necessarily
mean air full of oxygen. One should avoid drafts,
but so arrange that there may always be ingress
and egress for air. A window open slightly at both
top and bottom is a good plan. Any apparatus
which draws the air out of the room from the top is
on the correct principle, since pure air is drawn in
below to replace that which is withdrawn. In all
cases, exercise in the open air. Riding or walking
should be indulged in. By drinking in copious
drafts of pure air the lungs are cleansed and stimu-
lated. The best physical condition possible is the
standard that the stammerer should keep ever be-
fore him. While we grant that persons who are
even physical wrecks do not commonly stammer,
and also that one may be in fine physical health and
still have this habit, yet the fact remains that good
health and tone are necessary to the cure of the
trouble. If the stammerer has a difficulty in speech
greater than other men, in order to throw it off he
must aim to be stronger in every way than the aver-
age person.

It may be said that man evidently is not living as
nature intended animals to live — for man is an ani-
mal. Several things are required by our very con-
stitution, and chief among these are pure air and
healthful exercise. There is no physical organism
of any animal that receives so little exercise as that
of civilized man. Savages are natural in this, as

Il8 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

constant eflEort to provide food keeps them active.
Hunting and fishing cany them over large areas,
and there is connected with these occupations exer-
cises which call into activity every muscle of the
body. Even those whose lives are such as to re-
quire muscular effort often are not well developed
physically. The man who follows the plow may
have a certain kind of strength, but is likely to be
clumsy. The blacksmith has strength of arm and
chest, but lacks agility and all-round development.

Within the last quarter of a century we have be-
gun to see the need, for all purposes, of a better de-
velopment of our physical natures. The effort has
not been confined to men; women have entered
into athletics with a vim and persistence that show
that the idea is something more than a fad. The
athletic girl is a healthy type that compares favora-
bly with that of her athletic brother. Colleges are
more and more coming to realize the necessity of
making suitable provision for physical education,
and are encouraging the exercises of the field and
the gymnasium.

We by no means commend that excessive degree
of physical training which is shown in the develop-
ment of the professional or the semi-professional
athlete. The tendency in many cases is towards
overtraining, with the idea of winning some cham-
pionship. These persons frequently break down
early in life, because the physical man has been
overstrained; but there is a middle ground upon
which all can meet, and where the exercises are not
a strain, but a pleasure and a benefit. Physical
training for these purposes should not be violent.

STIMULANTS — EXERCISE 1 1 9

and ought not to result in exhaustion. The man at
the oar, who faints from overexertion at the last
quarter, is perhaps doing himself a permanent in-
jury. Frequently the lungs and heart are overtaxed
by extreme exercise. Training should not be aimed
at producing enormous chest capacity, or great mus-
cular power, but rather to create healthy and nor-
mal physical activity and control. The majority of
persons have no desire to become professional pugil-
ists, or even expert football players. The muscles
should all be brought into play, and the whole sys-
tem, rather than a part, developed.

We have it on the authority of the best physical
trainers, that those exercises in which there is the
element of skill, and in which there is some exhila-
ration, as in play, are the most beneficial. We set
aside a period of our lives for pleasurable exercise,
but when we reach maturity we assume a dignity
which rarely unbends. We should indulge in some
forms of play all our lives, as it is both natural and
necessary.

Formerly the student was known by his pale
brow, and his practice of stud)ring long hours with-
out taking food or rest. The ideal type of woman
was a languishing, insipid creature, who frequently
turned pale, had headaches, and was always ready
to faint on the slightest provocation. Now the g^rls
are with the boys in playing tennis or golf. They
may be seen on their wheels touring over the coun-
try. In the female colleges they are engaged in
physical feats that rival those of their brothers.

Exercises that take one out into the open air, and
those we enjoy, are the best We know a certain

I20 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

clergyman who had a large parish in one of our
great cities, whose duties were so arduous that he
became almost a physical wreck, and among other
troubles that resulted from this state of exhaustion
was a bad form of clergyman's sore throat. He
consulted a physician, who prescribed medicines
and treated the throat, but all to no purpose. He
was also advised to spend an hour a day in walking,
but there was no improvement; then another physi-
cian, who was a parishioner, advised vocal exercises
and boxing. He arranged for a series of lessons
with a teacher of elocution, and another with a pro-
fessional pugilist. He kept these up for a few
months, when his health was not only restored, but
was better than that of the average man. His
throat trouble could not have been cured without
the physical exercises, but the two together pro-
duced the result. In speaking of it he said : • When
I was taking my daily walks my mind was on my
sermons, or on my parish work. When I was box-
ing my whole attention was directed to keeping off
the floor, and in endeavoring to return what was
being given me. ^ This is the secret of exercise. It
should be of such nature as will take the mind
away from business and cares, and if possible center
it in the sport or game in which the person is en-
gaged.

Bicycle riding is good exercise for all persons, if
indulged in with moderation. Those whose idea is
to make miles, scorchers, etc., receive no benefit.
Riding through crowded thoroughfares is too much
like work to be of any value, but a spin through the
park or along the country roads is exhilarating.

STIMULrANTS — EXERCISE 121

One should always stop before physically exhausted;
he should walk the steep hills, even though the fools
do ride them. In short, all sorts of athletic exer-
cises that call into action all parts of the body, and
that are not violent or too exhaustive, are beneficiaL
Those outdoor sports, where enjoyment is the in-
centive, are better than set formulas of calisthenics,
but there are times when the latter only are possi-
ble. Of these, fencing and boxing are perhaps the
best, because there is the element of competition,
and because they most fully occupy the attention.
One cannot think of business while doing either.
Then follow punching the bag, swinging dumb-bells
or clubs, and the various calisthenic exercises.
Swimming, running, and jumping are fine. Row-
ing develops the chest and arms. In fact, all games
and sports are valuable when not overdone.

Parents should not encourage a child to refrain
from engaging in the sports of his fellows. One
great athletic trainer said to the writer: * If I had a
boy I would do ever5rthing to encourage him to en-
gage in sports, and would make it easy for him to
do so, but would never let him know that I was
anxious.* Boys need that rough-and-tumble con-
tact with others, not only for the physical training
it g^ves, but also for the practical lessons of life
which it teaches.

Many ®fits of the blues'^ are due to dyspepsia
and other forms of physical depression, but it is
rare that we find a healthy, active person who is
habitually mentally depressed or melancholy. The
mind affects the body, and the body reacts on the
mind; therefore the health of each is desirable.

122 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

Thus the stammerer, by engaging in all kinds of
physical exercises, will render his physical and men-
tal condition such that a direct cure is much easier
to accomplish. Normal activity is the secret of
both mental and bodily health, and when these are
secured it is easy to cure any special defects, like
those of speech. Take exercise, then, and let it be
of such nature that it is both mentally and physic-
ally exhilarating.

From the foregoing chapters it will be seen that
many elements enter into the cure of stammering.
These may be summarized as follows: A determina-
tion that knows no defeat; control over the emo-
tions; physical exercises, good health and good
spirits. Then come the elocutionary exercises, con-
sisting of rhythmical utterance; easy and flexible
action of the muscles of the mouth; breathing exer-
cises ; freedom of the throat muscles during speech ;
exercises in articulation, and speaking with due de-
liberation.

EXERCISES

THERE is a certain rhythm in all good speech. It
is clearly marked in poetry, and is by no means
entirely absent in prose. It is not sing-song, but
has an element of variety which is pleasant to the
ear. In poetry there are certain accented syllables
recurring at distinct intervals, and proper reading
of such selections requires a stroke of the voice^ fol-
lowed by partial rest. It is like the throb of the

BXBRCISSS 133

heart or the beat of the pulse, like day and night,
sleep and work. A period of activity is followed
by one of repose. An example or two will be sufl&-
cient to illustrate this. The student may add others
at will: —

I sprang to the stir-mp, and Joris and he;
I gal-loped, Dick gal-loped, we gal-loped all three,
Be- hind shut the post-em, the lights sank to rest.
And in-U> the mid-night we gal-loped a-breast

— Browning,

Sweet and low, sweet and low.

Wind of the West-ern sea;
Blow , blow, breathe and blow

Wind of the West-em sea.

— Tennyson,

What accent is to the word, emphasis is to the
sentence. Reading and speaking are frequently
rendered unpleasant because every word, important
and unimportant, is uttered with energy and abrupt-
ness. There is an economy in utterance which
renders speaking easier and makes a pleasanter
impression on the hearer. Observe the ease and
force with which the following may be uttered
when the emphasis is properly placed : —

I will most hum-bly take my leave of you.

YoQ can-not, sir, take from me an-y -thing I would more
will-ing-ly part, with-al. — Hamlet.

Then A-grip-pa said unto Paul, thou art per-mit-ted to
speak for thy-self.— ^/^/^.

124 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

And when he had spent all, there a-rose a might-y fam- ine
in that land, and he be-gan to be in want ; and he went and
ioined him-self to a cit-i-zen of that coun-try, and he sent
him into his fields to feed swine. — Bible,

The student may make selections of rhythmical
poetry and read them aloud for the purpose of
practice. If necessary he may read at first with
great deliberation^ marking the rhythm decidedly.
When this is possible without stumbling he should
shorten the time given to the words and make the
measure less pronounced. When the reading be-
comes normal he may read the selections to others.

He should follow this with selections in prose,
first carefully marking the words requiring the
chief accent. This marking may be done by under-
scoring (underlining) each word requiring emphasis.
He must be careful to let the voice run along easily
until one of these words is reached: —

(1) What a piece of work is man ! how noble in reason ; how
infinite in faculties; in form how moving, how express and
admirable; in action, how like an angel; in apprehension, how
like a god! — Hamlet.

If he still experience difl&culty he may divide the
words of the sentence into syllables, uttering each
syllable separately : —

(2) What a piece of work is man! how no-ble in rea-son;
how in-fi-nite in f ac-ul-ties ; in form how mov-ing, how ex-
press and ad-mir-a-ble ; in ac-tion, how like an an-gel; in
ap-pre-hen-sion, how like a god!

He must not remain satisfied, however, until he
has rejoined the syllables into words, for if he has

EXERCISES 185

been able to pronounce the syllables separately,
with practice he can pronounce them connectedly
also.

There is rhythm in all normal activity; it is em-
ployed in walking, breathing and talking. It as-
sists the laborer at his tasks, and is as natural as
the most common thing to sense.

Many theories for the cure of stammering have
been based upon rhythm, and in many instances
they have been helpful. The only diflSculty is that,
while one is usually assisted in speaking by excess-
ive rhythm, he may never learn to speak without
it. Rhythm is a part of all normal speech, but
must not be too prominently intruded. Therefore,
where one exaggerates he should do so with the
purpose of gradually discarding its excessive use,
or the remedy may become worse than the disease.
Some have recommended certain rhythmical move-
ments of the body during speech, uttering a sylla-
ble at each; but one employing any such device
should not consider himself safe until the rhythm
has become mental, and does not require any phys-
ical expression save that which is natural.

Take the following lines from Byron: —

The As-«yr-ian came down like a wolf on the fold.
And his co-horts were gleam-ing with pur-ple and gold,
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea.
When the blue wave rolls night- ly on deep Gal-i-lee.

This may first be uttered several times with ex-
cessive rhythm, and may be accompanied by any
rhythmical bodily movement

£a6 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

When it can be uttered with ease under these cir-
cumstances, repeat the lines, gradually reducing
the amount of physical movement until the rhjrthm
exists only in the mind and voice.

If this be done successfully the verse may be
transposed into prose as : —

The cohorts of the Assyrian that came down on the fold,
were all gleaming with bright colors, like gold and purple.
They came as a wolf, and their spears shone as so many stars,
resembling the sea of Galilee at night, with the many lights of
Heaven reflected in its bosom.

Many other selections equally suitable for prac-
tice will readily suggest themselves to the reader.

The subject of breathing is of supreme importance
to the stutterer and stammerer, for in the vast ma-
jority of cases the respiration is not normal.
Whether this has caused the impediment or is a
result, it is a constant hindrance to proper speech,
and when it is remedied good results are sure to
follow. Without proper respiration good health,
which is a necessary factor in the cure of speech de-
fects, is impossible. Close the drafts of a furnace
and the fire dies out, cut off the air entirely and it
instantly expires. The same thing is true of a hu-
man being, and many of us live in a half-smothered
state because we will not take into our lungs the air
that is so free. Air, water, and food are the three
requisites of life. The first is unlimited and ab-
solutely free, the second is practically so, and
nature is constantly endeavoring to produce the
third, and only requires from man a little assistance
to supply him with an abundance.

EXERCISES 127

The stammerer, apart from the matter of health,
has a special need for proper breathing,* since
much of his difficulty arises from a weakness here.
He may even breathe well for the purposes of
health, but not for speech. For the purposes of
life, good breathing consists largely in getting a
proper amount of air into the lungs ; the physical
nature will expel it when it is no longer required.

Speech, however, is made during exhalation, and
for the purposes of speech, exhalation, not inhala-
tion, becomes primarily important. The stammerer
at times tries to speak during inhalation, and fre-
quently attempts it when the lungs are exhausted.
For this reason his face becomes congested; he
gasps, and his voice dies out. It will be seen that
rhythm is a necessary factor here, too. Inhalation
and exhalation must follow each other in regular
succession, whether the body is active or passive, or
whether we are speaking or are silent. When the
stammerer begins to speak his effort deranges his
breathing, and this again reacts on his speech.

The stammerer or stutterer uses probably ten
times the effort necessary in speech, and it is this
excessive mental and physical effort which results
in his difficulty. If there are periods when he
speaks well, it is during those when his mind is at
ease and when there is no effort. Every sensation
of the mind has a tendency to gather at the vocal
organs, and therefore the voice is the most truth-

* Appndating the yalue of exercises in breathing, the writers have
srrmnged such forms as will prove beneficial both for stammerers and for
others interested in the cultivation of the voice. These will be found in
Part n, and thonld be carried out by the student with faithful regularity.

128 STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINO

f ul expressive agent. This leads to the conclusion
that speech impediment is primarily a mental diffi-
culty, and this is the only rational solution.

But we should remember that the subject has two
phases. When once we hesitate and stumble we
are aware of it, we lose a certain amount of con-
fidence and our voice expresses this, because the
mind hesitates. Therefore, we may say truthfully
that stammering lips make a mind disposed to stam-
mering, and a mind disposed to stammer makes
stammering lips. Each is a cause and reacts on the
other.

Now, we cannot get at the mind directly, and
therefore the best way to remove the difficulty is
by contracting proper vocal habits, through which
we must aim to convince the mind that vocalization
is easy.

Effort in producing voice usually manifests itself
in contracted throat muscles, and this results in a
harsh, throaty tone. The reason is that too much
effort is directed to this point. A parallel is found
in teaching gesture. Watch a boy gesticulate when
explaining something to another; his movements
are graceful and full of meaning. Now call him
before the class and ask him to repeat the same
gesture, and it will be stiff and awkward. It is be-
cause his attention is centered on it and the muscles
become rigid. So in voice any effort to speak grips
the throat and the sound is squeezed through.

The pupil should eliminate all effort above the
larynx, save, perhaps, in properly forming the lips,
and these should assume their positions easily and
flexibly — not rigidly.

EXERCISES

129

Several exercises may be suggested : —

(I) Devitalize the muscles of the neck until the head gently
drops on the breast, then gently raise it with as little effort as
possible, meanwhile repeat the vowels.

(a) Roll the head on the shoulders from side to side with a
minimum of energy, repeating the vowels, or prolong a single
one.

(3) Soond a vowel, prolonging it, and endeavoring to imi-
tate a distant organ-note, smooth and clear.

Establish this habit of the relaxed throat; and as the voice
is increased in voltmie, let it be produced by greater chest
activity.

(4) Whisper a A with the throat perfectly relaxed, then

vocalize the same sound without increased throat effort. The
ooly difference between the two is that, in the latter the vocal
bands vibrate. These are involuntary, and the thought of
speaking sets them in motion. Use every means to eliminate
effort, or rather to eliminate it from those parts where it does
not belong. Apply it where it is needed.

One may read aloud grand, solemn, or beautiful
passages. Thoughts that are elevating have a tend-
ency to rolling periods and sonorous utterance.
Many parts of the Bible, selections from fine poetry,
and elevated orations furnish excellent exercises.

METHODS-OP- ATT ACK^

THE sounds of the language present all sorts of
difficulties to different people, but we cannot
say that there are any certain ones that are hard for
all. Where one would falter another would utter
the sound with ease.

As a rule, however, the consonant sounds present
the greatest difficulties, as in their utterance the lips
are brought strongly into play, even to the extent
of closing entirely at times, while in the utterance
of the vowels the sound is produced back in the lar-
ynx, and the muscles of the mouth are not strongly
active, but are brought into action only in the shap-
ing of the sound as it escapes. One may notice this
difference in the action of the lips in pronouncing «,
^, /, Oy «, and by /, m^ v (their actual sounds, f not
their names). The same sounds or combinations
may be difficult for both the stammerer and stut-
terer. The former sees the difficulty ahead and his
vocal and articulating organs refuse to perform the

* Mcthod-of- Attack refers to the mental and physical application of cer>
tain principles for the purpose of producing aounda, syllables, or words,
difficult of utterance.

t The sound of a letter is frequently quite different from its name. For
example : the name of the letter a is pronounced the same as aye (ever),
but its sound varies in different words ; in arm the sound of a is ah. The
name of the letter b is be^ but its sound is what is heard after the closure
of the lips in pronouncing the word tub. The name of the letter /* is </^
but its sound is what is heard in pronouncing laugh after the lower lip is
brought into proximity with the upper teeth. The name of the letter m is
em, but its sound is whtft is heard after closing the lips in pronouncing
Aim. The name of the letter s is es, but its sound is what is heard after
the vocal cords have ceased to vibrate in pronounciiig the wocdA^

(130)

METHODS-OF-ATTACK 1 3 1

task, while the latter attempts the utterance and
stumbles, repeating the sound over and over again.
There are some sounds that do not appear to bother
either, for the reason that whenever possible they
choose language where these do not occur, fre-
quently using synonyms, substituting phrases, and
uttering whole sentences to get around the diffi-
culty.

The vowels in themselves usually give little
trouble, while consonants, by reason of a closure of
the passage making a stoppage of sound, present
many obstacles. At times the vowels seem to cause
trouble, but it is usually because the speaker is
made to hesitate by reason of the consonant which
precedes or follows. To the average stammerer or
stutterer the difficulties presented may be indicated
as follows : Frequently difficult, r, /, A, y, /, «, w,
^, r, J, Vj w, ^, Zy and jA, /A, «^, cA, wh; those most
often difficult, ^, d^ g (hard), k^ /, /. It may be
noticed also that it is not always that the difficulty
arises in pronouncing the individual sound. It may
require an effort to pass from one sound to another.
In uttering a consonant the mouth may be entirely
closed, while the vowels connected therewith re-
quire an open position. To pass from one sound to
another with the rapidity required presents an un-
surmountable obstacle to many. Oftentimes one
could pronounce a syllable separately, but when he
sees that it is followed by another that is difficult he
loses confidence and stumbles on the first. Hence
it will be seen that hesitancy may be shown in many
ways, on various sounds, and in various connec-
tions: but taking the sounds of the language alto-

132 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

gether it will be found that with most persons
there are only a few which present obstacles, but
as these are constantly occurring in various words
one may be impressed with the difficulty of speak-
ing at all. The remedy is: find these troublesome
sounds and master their utterance singly, and then
in combination with others, until the effort disap-
pears.

In general it has been observed that those sounds
which require a complete closure of the mouth are
difficult, and these are usually what we may term
explosives. There are others which have not that
abrupt quality, but which may be continuous in
their utterance, like m and «. The former are dif-
ficult because the lips are brought together during
their utterance.

The speech organs constitute a wonderful mechan-
ism. In the utterance of a single word we fre-
quently must place the organs in many exact
positions. These must be assumed quickly, and
frequently the mouth instantly changes from an
open to a closed position.

Stammering is rarely if ever manifested in two
persons in like manner, nor is the physical mani-
festation any indication of the abnormal condition
of the sufferer mentally. In fact, it sometimes hap-
pens that stammerers of apparently severe mani-
festation are easily cured ; whereas, on the contrary,
types of stammering apparently less severe are
oftentimes more difficult to cure. The manifesta-
tion, however, is important, as sometimes by work-
ing from effect to cause, by studying the abnormal
position of the organs physically, and by substitu-

METHODS-OP-ATTACK 1 33

ting correct for incorrect positions, the difficulty in a
measure can be remedied.

In the suggestion herein contained the writers
do not wish to convey an idea that the observance
of any set of rules will cure every case of stammer-
ing, the idea being only to suggest remedial means
which, if carefully carried out, will be of permanent
benefit to the sufferer. It is not in the perform-
ance of any one exercise contained in this book, nor
in any other book, nor even through personal in-
struction, that the cure is to be looked for, but
rather through the fulfillment of various exercises
in combination, diligently and persistently carried
out.

We know of a number of cases of stammering
that have been entirely cured by the careful exer-
cise of the will in controlling the organs of speech
to assume correct positions physically; but as such
control depends largely upon the letter or syllable
difficult of enunciation, the Method-of -Attack nec-
essarily will vary according to the difficulty en-
countered. There are many persons who stammer
only on closed consonants, while vowels and con-
tinuous sounds cause them no hindrance. Again,
it sometimes occurs that one will stammer only on
continuous sounds, while the enunciation of closed
consonants will meet with no obstruction. Thus
there is a difference among persons who stammer
with reference to particular sounds, according to
the mental impression of the sufferer, and therefore
the method of adapting or placing the organs to
overcome stammering must vary according to the
physical manifestations apparent.

METHOD-OF-ATTACK FOR CLOSED

CONSONANTS*

A GOOD rule to follow with reference to the posi-
tion of the organs, and generally a safe one, is
to assume the natural position. To better illustrate
our meaning refer to Fig. i, in which is shown the
incorrect position of the tongue in the stammerer's
effort to enunciate words commencing with the let-
ters /, d^ ch^ J,

It can be seen by this illustration that the tongue
is wedged tightly into position behind the upper
teeth and is forcibly held in that position. The op-
posite in position naturally would suggest relaxation
with little muscular effort of the organs. In other
words, take the position as lightly as possible as
shown in Fig. 2, by which the reader will notice that
only the tip of the tongue is pressed lightly against the

* A closed consonant (as defined in Methoda-of- Attack) is any articulate
sound in an effort to enunciate which the breath is momentarily obstructed
in its outward t>assage through the mouth by the organs of articulation.
Examples : /, d, ch, j\ p, b, k, g, q.

* A consonant is the result of audible friction, squeexing, or stopping
of the breath in some part of the mouth (or occasionally of the throat).
The main distinction between vowels and consonants is, that while in the
former the mouth configuration merely modifies the yocalixed breath,
which is therefore an essential element of the vowels, in consonants the
narrowing or stopping of the oral passage is the foundation of the sound,
and the state of the glottis is something secondary.*—/^. Sweet.

NoTB.— Illustrations here shown, representing the correct positions of
the organs of speech for purposes of articulation, are from Carl Seller's
" Physiology of Voice and Speech,* by permiasion of the American Syatem
of Dentistry.

(134)

METHOD-OF-ATTACK

135

*Pptr gKms and teeth, in which action there shoald
be as little effort physically as possible. The remedy
suggested for words commencing with the letters
/, d, ch, J must thus be apparent and for words
commencing with other letters in the enunciation

of which similar difKculties are manifested. To
make the solution of the difficulty more readily un-
derstood, and the selection of letters or words for
the application of this principle as simple as possi-
ble, we add that the principle is applicable to all
words in the enunciation of which, owing to excess-
ive effort, the breath is entirely obstructed. Thus,
in addition to words commencing with the letters

136 STAUUERDia AND STUTTERIHa

t, d, ch,j (Fig. 1) we can add also words commenc-
ing with the letters p, b (Fig, 3), as well s& k, g
(hard), q (Fig. s).

The correct position of the organs for enunciation
of words commencing with / and b, in which there

is a natural inclination on the part of the stammerer
to use excessive effort, is shown in Fig. 4, while
the correct position for the gutturals is shown in
Fig, 6.

JIETHOD-OP-ATTACZ

Fi« t-ConecI position of
Ihf llpt far xbf ennnciB-
Itonol KDrdiannincnciliB

STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

datton at the gutti
W».S.)

METHOD-OP-ATTACK 139

EXERCISES

In the following poems, letters representing the
consonant sounds to be attacked are printed in ital-
ics. Each verse should be read over slowly and
carefully. See Method-of- Attack for closed conso-
nantSy page 134.

From Darkness to Light

There exist in this r^ec-^ered world of ours,
As /art of the heri-/age lot-/ed /o man,

The thistle of woe and ttie flowers

Of hope, that ^d and ^loom with fra-^ance rare.
And cAeer life's path where'er they ran.

7b iifflictions many, weak man is heir;

They /or-/ure the do-dy, im-/air the mind,
Res-/rict am-^ition, and furrow with rare
The ^row of youth, ere the fin-^er of /ime

The raven locks has r^nced /o find.

Among the /rou-^les man's ^es-/ined /o ^ear.
Is one that rrashes, with a ^es-/ot'8 hand,

The hopes and aims of its vic-/im fair;

It rules their lives with a merciless /ower,
And fet-/ers the thought with an iron hand.

It has robbed the world with a ruthless hand,

Of men of genius and women of thought;
While a thousand homes all over the land
Have ^een saw/ly ^ar->tened and filled with ^ief,
At the </ire havoc this /rou-^le has wrought

It res-^ects not s-/ation, nor rank, nor age;

It hum-^les the rich and the poor as well;
While on the ^ook of Fame it ^lots the /age
Of many a youth, whose in-/ellect keen

Would honor the halls where s-Zatesmen ^welL

t40 STAMMSRING AND STUTTERING

In the world of ^siness, it ^ars the way
To successful rise and a lawful ^fain;

While the sha-</ow of ^loom ^rows every </ay.

Re-/ar-</ing the mind, /fes-Zroying the will.
Plun-^ng /o wreck the soul of life's /rain.

A s-/ammering /ongue is this /yrant ^Id

That </es-/roys the peace and dea,-dens the hope,
That fet-/ers the s-/eech of ^th young and old,
Who cAance to have fallen within the bounds
Of the dtesL-ded </es-/ot's migh-/y s-cope.

But at last through rourage and force of will.

With the help of CTod, man has won the fight,
Z>ethroned the /jrrant, sent a joyfnl thrill
To the hearts of thousands throughout the world,
Sup-Planting ^loom with a wel-«)me light

A Stammerer's Crime*

I sit u-/on my pnson cot.

In my cell so dark and lone;
1 think of the sunshine, the ^rds and the flowers,

Of my wife, my cMld, and my home.
I think of the yury, the yudge — ^the man

I billed with a sin-^le ^low
^e-rause he /eered, when I covLl-dn't /alk

i^e-rause I s-/ammered so.

I know I </id wrong to commit the mme;

I am sorry I </id, I confess.
I ran dearly remem-^er the /ar-/ing words

Of my lit-/le ^augh-/er ^ess.

* The above poem will be interesting no doubt to the majority of read,
ers. It would appear from it that the person, wboae identity is unknown
to us, committed a crime by killing with a single blow a man who mim-
icked him in his stammering. The poem is well written and pathetically
portrays in words the feelings of the poor sufferer, whose crime it tells in
verse.

METHOD-OP-ATTACK 1 4 1

I am sorry /oo for my vic-^m's wife

And the warm /ears often flow
For the cMld of the man who peered at me

^e-<atise I s-/ammered so.

I am thin->Hng /o-night of my an-^el wife

Who went home years a-^.
She is wai-/ing Reside those /early ^tes

For me /o come, I know,
^ut alas! lit-/le wife, I cbh never ^ome

7b your home free from rare and woe,
For I billed the man who jeered at me

^e-raose I s-/ammered so.

Had he deen patient like you, my //ear,

For I /ried with all my might,
Had he ^en like you when I /ried /o /alk

He would de alive /o-night
Yes, I thought he was my Aosom friend.

And I ^ore it long, you know;
Then I murw/ered the man who peered at me

^e-rause I s-/ammered so.

One more year and I will de free,

And then, little ^augh-/er ^ess.
One more year if my life is s-/ared

Will end my loneliness.
Two months — one month; ah! /o-night

I will from this /rison ^o.
I have served my /ime for that awful nime

^e-oiuse I s-/ammered so.

Two years have passed ; I'm happy now

As I was in ^ays of yore,
^ut the face of my //arling is ever missed —

I shall never see her more,
^t for that my hap-/iness is com-/lete.

For a few short months a-^o
I was aired of the rurse that led me /o Jtm

The man, when I s-/ammered so.

. J

143 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

A Parablb

I wai-/ed at eve by the river,

The n-owd was /assing near.
And I ^azed on the hurrying faces

With feeling a-^Hn /o fear;
The ^ay was djing westward

In a ^lory of nimson and ^Id,
And the flush of the s-Jty and wa-/^r

Was a /oem of God an-/old.

I looked at the peo-p\e rushing.

And won-^ered o*er and o'er
How many hearts were hap-^,

And how many hearts were sore;
I thought that doubtless many

Were afflic-/ed as I had ^een,
And I seemed /o hear them sighing

Like phan-/oms in a </ream.

My soul went out to help them,

In /i-/iful earnest grayer,
As I /ic-Aired their ^ight lives dai-kened

By s-/ammering ; O ! </epth of des-pair !
When a rush of the West wind brought me

And laid at my very feet
A half-^ead, ^ea-/en flower,

Hel-^less and crushed and sweet.

It lay there mute and ^ro->ten,

^ut I fancied it seemed /o say:
<*For the sake of the sweet Christ lift me

Ere the next wind ^ear me away.*
Quickly I s-/ooped and raised it;

I ^shed from it sand and slime;
I oirried it home and /laced it

In a slen-^^ vase of mine.

METHOD-OF-ATTACK

I /oared in it ^rys-Zal wa-/er;

I ^aced up the fra-^le form,
Aod saw in-^eed it was lovely

before it had met the s-/orm.
^ut I thought as I fumed and left it:

Can it ever ^ whole a-^ain ?
And is all my rare and sorrow

^es-/owed on it in vain ?

Time /assed. The ^ys wore slowly

Ere ^ack A> my room I went;
^ut I s-/opped on the very threshold,

Won-^ering what it meant;
There in its vase of rrys-/al

S-/ood the flower erect and fair.
And a fra-,^Tance« sweet as heaven.

Was floa-/ing in the air.

143

I ^azed and ^azed in my gladness

At the /ure ^row lif-/ed high.
When the sunlight /ouched its ^lory,

And lin-^ered in passing by.
The /ears rose to my eyelids,

I held them in no ron-/rol;
Need I say it ? — my s-/orm-/ossed flower

Was a ^eau-Ziful human soul.

METHOD-OF-ATTACK FOR CON-
TINUOUS SOUNDS'

THE Method-of-Attaclc for the continuoas conso-
nant sounds is necessarily different from that
adopted for the closed consonants, for the reason
that the manifestation of stammering on the lattef

is entirely different from that of the former. In-
stead of an absolute obstruction of the breath, as is

■A conllQuoiu sound (as defined in HethodKit-AtUck) ii any con»-
nant sound which, when continued, dou not change lU Initial sonnd nor
the sound ol an; word or syllable of which It tomu ■ part Sxamptn : c
(■oft),/ t, m, n, r. s. v. u. x, ^. •. sk, Ik, Mk.

(•44)

METHOD-OP-ATTACK

146 STAMUERINO AND STUTTBRINO

KETHOD-OP-ATTACK

STAMMERING AND STUTTERINO

METHOD-OP-ATTACK 1 49

apparent In the enunciation of the closed consonant,
stammering on the continuous sound is manifested
by (i) a continuous effort of production, (2) the con-
tinuation of the initial sound, or (3) the sound of
escaping breath. It will be found upon trial with
many of the continuous sounds that it is difl&cult to
continue their initial sound with the mouth open,
and thus this method of simply opening the mouth
after having formed the sound will serve, in many
cases, as a means of overcoming the difficulty. This
Method-of- Attack should be always preceded, how-
ever, by mental relaxation, the opposite of excessive
desire for utterance.

The position of the tongue and other organs in
stammering on the continuous sound of th is shown
in Fig. 7, the remedy for which has been suggested,
viz: the opening of the jaws (Fig. 8). In Fig. 9 is
shown the position of the organs in stammering on
the continuous sounds of s and z; Fig. 10, their posi-
tion in stammering on the sounds of sh and zh; Fig.
II, their position in stammering on the sounds of /
and v; Fig. 12, their position in stammering on the
sound of the letter r; Fig. 13, their position in stam-
mering on the sound of the letter // Fig. 14, their
position in stammering on the sound of m; Fig. 15,
their position for the sound of n. For all of the
above the same remedial means is suggested (see
Fig. 8).

If the reader will study carefully the manifesta-
tions of his impediment, and apply the above sug-
gestions, much of the contortions of face and body
generally apparent can be avoided. Our ideas with
reference to correct and incorrect positions of the

15© STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

organs of utterance, if carefully studied, may he en-
larged upon by the reader. Let him study the cor-
rect position of his organs for every word upon
which he stammers, and, by substituting the correct
position for the incorrect, the difl&culty in a meas-
ure can be partially if not wholly overcome.

It is a peculiarity among stammerers that many
of them stammer only under certain conditions, the
letter commencing the word having little, if any-
thing, to do with their stammering, as is shown by
the circumstance that, under the same conditions,
they can enunciate perfectly other words that com-
mence with the same letter. For such persons the
method referred to (mechanically placing the organs
in correct positions to enunciate the sounds of letters
involved) is not so applicable.

Difficulty in such cases is largely the result of
lacking confidence, and can be overcome only by
the substitution of the attitude of bravery. There
came under the notice of the writers a short time
ago the case of a man who stammered on only one
word, the word tzvo. It did not bother him to enun-
ciate the word to, nor did the word too bother
him. He stammered on the word used in its nu-
merical sense only, and when used thus was unable
to utter it. Another case brought to our attention
was that of a young man who stammered on his
own name only. His name, when used as the name
of another person, did not seem to aflfect him a
particle, but when self-applied it was most difficult
for him to enunciate it. Sometimes such persons
seem to lose all idea of difficulty on particular words,
only to find that other words of equal difficulty have

METHOD-OP-ATTACK 1 5 1

substituted themselves. Cases of this class are en-
tirely of mental tjrpe, and nothing but institutional
treatment and personal instruction will serve to
overcome the difficulty.

EXERCISES

In the following poems letters representing the
continuous sounds to be attacked are printed in
italics. Each verse should be read over slowly and
carefully. See Method-of-Attack for Continuous
Sounds, page 145.

Stuttbrino Job

«Ko-/untecrs wsmtsdl Who's /"irst, I say, to an-xwer fAe
A^a-/ion*s* call —

To defend /Ae f-/ag on/b-reign seaa with sword and can-
non ball —

To c-rti^ zenith Might a/be-man c-ruel and a-z^enge our
ifoble J/aine —

To f-ree a people /ong ens-/aved,f and rend /Aeir bonds
in t-wain?»

* Attack according to phonetic production, not according to spelling
nor syllabic construction. As examples : in the word nations the syllables
shonld be attacked as though it were spelled na-skunz; in the woT^Jloating^
which consists of two syllables, viz:Jloat-tng, it should be attacked as though
it were spelled, /U>~ting^ because the sound of the letter / preceding the last
syllable is more likely to cause difficulty of utterance than the vowel sound
of / in ing. It may be argued by some that the letter t in the above word
belongs to the first syllable, and that if so affixed it would be unlikely to
cause difficulty. Stammerer^ however, will realise the fallacy of this ar-
gument, as it is difficult to pass from the sound of the closed consonant to
the vowel sound without hindrance. It follows, then, that the Method-of-
Attack should be planned for the closed consonant preceding the vowel
utterance, th« latter of itself rarely causing difficulty, unless at the begin*
ning of a sentence or word.

t When two continuous sounds come together, attack only the seooad
one. Example: in enslave, the sound of / follows immedistely after the t.
Attack only the /. The majority of stammerers find no difficulty in passing

152 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

Thus spake* an of-/i-^er of the Guard, his zd-jage firm

and g-rave,
His quiet xmen and steady eye bespoke him t-rue and

b-rave.

The call rang out both /oud and o-/ear upon the iwor-wing air.
And th-rilled the b-/ood of vete-rans old as does the t-rum-

pet's b-/are.
Then came a hush, ^en paused to ^ee who yirst ikt roll

would Jign,
IV hen forth, th&re st-rode a youth, his age but half-a-score-

and-«ine,
MsLU-ly of form. ; with head e-rect he bold-/y p-/aced his

/fame
Way up on /^e/ore-wost /ine of the soldiers* J^eet of/ame.

WWh wonde-ring eyes Me c-rowd /ookedon; then wonder

changed to wirth:
The vo-/unteer was << Stutte-ring Joe,>> a /ad of /ittle worth —
At /east so /bought the 2/il-/agers — and oft-times sport they

wade
Of the t-witching/ace and halting tongue, wAile jokes were

c-ruel-/y p-/ayed.

But Joe, with quiet »«an-/i-«ess, the tauntingsyailed to heed,
And met theiv scom-/^ul /aughter with ge-«e-rous act and

deed;
He cared ybr an aged mo-ther until Death's i-ry hand
Zeft naught to /ove and che-rish but his own, his irative /and.

Thus when the God of Wslt called A-//ie-ricayorth toyight,
To stay the hand of opp-res-jion in F-reedom's name and
wight,

from one continuous sound to another, the difficulty usually manifesting
itself in the inability to pass from the continuous sound to the closed con>
sonant or vowel.

*When a closed consonant follows immediately after a continuous
sound at the beginning of a word, the rule is to attack only the closed con-
sonant. Example : in spake, the sound of the letter/ follows the continu-
ous sound of s, in which case attack only the closed consonant. The
difficulty of stammering in such cases is due to inability to join the ooatia-
uous sound with the consonant which follows.

METHOD-OP-ATTACK 153

Tke /irst to vo-Zunteer and thefvcsX. who of-/ered to go
If^th /Ae f-/ag to death or g-/o-ry was Me /ad called <^ Stutte-
ring Joe. »

T-mMS eve on a/ield of car-/»age, /^ battle had raged all day.
Till God in His /ove and mercy had jo^/^tened Me ,ran*s/ierce
ray.

And /Ae t-wi-/ight, gentle but ze/eird, n^as/ading into Me

night
As «oise-/ess-/y as a spi-rit pur-mes its hea-2/en-/y f-/ight.

Just u/here /^ dead /ay /Sickest, 'neath /^/olds of a star-ry

f-/ag
TAat f-/oated out f-rom a boulder, high up on a jutting c-rag,
IVas a s-/ender ^outh of grace-/uiyorm and «utb-rown, cur-/y

hair,
JVith hand-5ome b-row and cheek jo Joft *t-«/ould ri-i/al a

maiden's /air.

He had car-ried /^ f-/ag Jince mor-;fing, and wAen the

charge Tvas ^/ade
Tkt co-/umns of men moved /or-waxd in year-/ess and des-

pe-rate raid.
A cheer went up f-rom /Ae Joldiers, as /Aeir ban-ner waved

on high ;
TAen a hush — /Ae b-rave /ad /altered and sank '/leath /Ae

f-/ag to die.

SAot th-rough /Ae b-reast, /^e boy «^nt down ; but /Ae f-/ag

tt^aved p-roud-/y still,
And at jun-jet hour it was f-/oating jup-reme and g-rand

o'er fAe hill.
TAen it was seen /or the /irst thaX. iAe hand of «Stutte-ring

Joo»
Still g-ripped in death iAe emb-/em of /iberty's wesA or o/oe.

^nth gentle care tAey /aid him *//cath the Cuban Joil to rest,
lVAa\e his spirit entered tAe realms of iAose/o-re-ver t>-/est;
And «ow 'mong /Ae A^a-/ion*s he-roes, who have vo-/unteered

to go
Ozi-ward to death or g-/ory, is iAe name of ^ Stutte-ring Joe.*

—P. R. L. Carl.

1 54 STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

The Broken Seal

O 7t/onde-rous ^dence, /Aat can make
TAe stsLm-me-ring tongue to speak«

Can /oose our bonds, our chains can b-reak
And bid us ;fow /few p-</ea-Jures xeek!

WhevQ <?nce ^as Jad-;fess, g-Zoom, despair —

A^ew /ife, «ew hopes are b-Zoo-iwing /Aere.

How g-reat /Ae change no one can tell,
But /Aose whose /ives are c-/ouded o'er

Ji^ith stam-we-ring — /ate //tat, /ike a spell,
B-/asts e-z/e-ry /^ught and cries: *A^o more;

C-/ose up /Ae t-rea-mres of /ke gifted mind.

And sAun /o-re-ver all mankind. *>

5uch wsis my doom, Juch my decree;

I bowed jub-mis-rive to my /ate;
Hope died, the/uture was a b-/ank to me;

Zife a chaos none could e-/e-z/ate;
/x)r j^ears a rec-/use /ife I /ed,
Ambi-/ion gone and al-most dead.

W^ealth could «ot b-ring /Ae joy I /eel.

Not could it buy my joy;
J'our jdence b-roke /Ae skeptic's seal.

And b-rought me peace «d-/Aout aWoy;
And «ow ^ur p-raise my tongue sAaH Jound
To stam-me-rers all tke world a-round.

•

But words, poor ze/ords, can not con-z^y
T'-Ae /ee-/ings of my heart /or /Aee:

God b-/ess you — b-/ess you e-very day!
My humble p-rayer sAaXL be.

Four work is g-/o-rious — oh, how g-rand —

T'he stam-me-rer speaks at ^^'our com-mand !

METHOD-OF-ATTACK FOR VOWELS*

THE method of attacking vowel sounds is necessar-
ily different from that suggested for the conso-
nants, for the reason that stammering on the vowel
is manifested by an action of muscles entirely differ-
ent from that apparent in consonant stammering.
Vowel stammering might appropriately be termed
glottis stammering, since the difficulty is usually
manifested by the spasmodic contraction of the glot-
tis, or the closing together of the vocal cords.

To better illustrate our meaning, and in view of
the fact that the instruction contained in this book
is intended as a guide for students, many of whom
no doubt are wholly unacquainted with the anatom-
ical construction of the vocal organs, we have
deemed best to demonstrate by means of cuts and
diagrams the exact location of the larynx, the vocal
cords, and the glottis ; their relative position one to
the other, and their action and use during vocaliza-
tion. To simplify the matter for the student we
shall avoid, as far as possible, technicalities and un-
necessary phrases, and shall endeavor to present
the subject in such a manner as will be easily un-
derstood.

A front top view of the larynx is shown in Fig.
1 6.

* A vocal or ■otnetimes a whispered sound modified by resonance in
the oral passage, the peculiar resonance in each case giving to each several
vowel its distinctive character or quality as a sonnd of speech.

In the English language the written vowels are a, /, t, 0, «, and some
times «r and jr. The spoken vowels are much more numerous. — WtbtUr.

156 STAHMBRINO AND STUTTERING

The glottis, or opening between the vocal cords
AA, is shown at B. The trachea, commonly called
the windpipe, is shown at D. The line of vision is
represented from above in the direction of the ar-
row E. In order to show the throat in this posi-
tion, it has been necessary, as the cut illustrates, to
sever the larj'nx horizontally, thus separating from

Fig. 16.— DUgnimmaticnprHeiititlonoCtlie larynx, ihowlntt Trout tap
view. C Ifltyni; B, gVXKii-.AA. Tocal cordis A tnchci ; £, line of iridon
represented from above.

it the epiglottis, a spoon-shaped cartilage which au-
tomatically folds down over the opening into the
larynx during the act of swallowing, thus closing it
hermetically for the moment.

The first step in the process of vocalization is in-
halation. The air is then allowed to return gently

METHOD-OF-ATTACK

157

from the lungs through the bronchial tubes into the
trachea by a mild exhalant effort until it reaches the
vocal cords A A. These, during respiration, are
held apart to allow the air to flow freely through
the glottis B, between their edges. When vocaliza-
tion is attempted the glottis narrows until there is
only a narrow chink, which is effected by the in-
ward rotation of the arytenoid cartilages to which
the vocal cords are attached. The narrowing of the
glottis and approximation of the vocal cords present
an obstacle to the outflowing current of air; and
since the vocal cords are slightly stretched, and are
naturally elastic, they are bulged upward by the
pressure of air from below until their elasticity
overcomes the pressure, when they naturally fly
back into their normal position. The rapidity of
the vibration thus caused produces sound, which we
commonly term voice, and which is changed and
modulated according to the tension of the vocal
cords and the relative position of the cavities of the
throat, resonance and tone, of course, depending
largely upon the position of the mouth.

The production of a high note is thus naturally
the result of the vibration of a tense cord, while, on
the contrary, the production of a low note is the re-
sult of the vibration of a slackened cord. Cohen
says: * It is known that if a violin string or a drum
head be stretched so that its tension is increased,
the sound it will yield when struck will be higher in
the scale the greater the tension, while the pitch
falls as the string or membrane is slackened, because
of its tension being decreased.* So it is with the
hnman voice. When the laryngeal muscles stretch

IS8 STAMMERWO AND STUTTERING

the vocal cords, increasing their tension, the pitch
ascends, and when the muscles are relaxed, so that
the tension is diminished, the pitch falls. If we ex-
amine the strings yielding the higher tones of a
piano, we see that they are shorter as their tones
rise in the scale, and we know that if the length of
a string on a violin is shortened by placing the fin-
ger on it, its tone rises in pitch, and that the shorter
and tighter the string the higher the tone. Thus it
is apparent that the processes in the human organ
— stretching and shortening of the vocal bands —
are the same physically as those employed for rais-

ing the pitch in artificial musical instruments. The
physical laws that govern the production of sound
by the human voice do not differ in any particular
from the physical laws governing the production
of sound from any other source. Thus it will be
seen that the register of tone of the voice depends
largely upon the approximation or separation of
the vocal cords — that a high note is produced when
the cords are tightly drawn together (Fig. 17), and
that a low note is the result of their relaxed tension
(Fig. 18).

METHOD-OF-ATT ACK 1 5 9

Stammering on the vowel is usually manifested
by contraction of the glottis, or the closing together
of the vocal cords,* in which position they are
rigidly pressed together. This is the physical mani-
festation of vowel stammering, in the same sense as
the compressed position of the lips is the manifesta-
tion of stammering on some of the consonant sounds.
It has already been pointed out that a low tone of
voice is produced by a relaxed tension of the vocal
cords, and that a high tone is produced by their in-
creased tension. This granted, since vowel stam-
mering is manifested by the contraction of the
glottis, cannot the reader see that it is always well
to attack the vowel by lowering the voice, thus
separating the vocal cords and making the glottis as
little liable to contraction as possible? Reasoning
from this hypothesis, we suggest, as a Method-of-
Attack for the vowels, a lowered tone of voice
which, if not always an absolute remedy, will
largely lessen the chances for a recurrence of the
difficulty.

EXERCISES

In the following poems the vowels to be attacked
are printed in italics. Each verse should be read
over carefully. See Method-of- Attack for Vowels,
page 156.

• SUmmerlni^ on the vowel la not alwmjs manifested bj the contrmction
of the glottia, as in tome caaea the writers have inTeatigated the difficulty
haa ahown itaelf aa the inability of the anfferer to vibrate the vocal oordai
In auch inatances no general instruction can be laid down aa a meana of
remedy, caaea of thia kind requiring apedal iaatroctloa.

l6o STAMMERING AND STUTTERING

The Stittte&e&s* Apfuction

Come, / will show thee an affliction imnumbered among the

world's sorrows.
Yet real ^ind wearisome and constant, /mbittering the cup

of life.
There be wAo can think within themselves, and the fire

bumeth at their ^arts,*
^nd eloquence waiteth at their lips, yet they speak not

with their tongue.
There be wAom zeal quickeneth, or slander stirreth to reply.
Or need constraineth to ask, or pity sendethf ^s Aer mes*

sengers,
But nervous dread and sensitive shame freeze the current

ai their speech ;
The mouth is sealed as with lead, a cold weight presseth

an the //eart,
The mocking promise of power ts once more broken m per-

formance,
^nd they stand /mpotent at words, travailing with imt>om

thoughts ;
Courage /s cowed at the portal, wisdom «s widowed ct utter-
ance;
He that went to comfort £S pitied, Ae that should rebuke &

silent,
^nd fools, who might listen and learn, stand by to look

and laugh;

* The letter A. being aspirate and followed bj a vowel sound, should be
attacked as a vowel.

t Attack continuous sounds and closed consonants in preference to
vowel sounds, as the latter are rarely difficult of utterance, except as the
initial sound at the commencement of a sentence. Carrying out this idea,
the reader will notice that many vowel sounds in the following poems are
unmarked, preference being given to consonants. As an example: the
word setuUth which consists of two syllables, via: send-eiJk^ should be at-
tacked as though it were pronounced sen detk^ as the sound of the closed
consonant d preceding the last syllable is more likely to cause difficulty
of utterance than the vowel utterance of eik. Persons who are addicted
to vowel stammering rarely if ever stammer on a rowel unless they stop
to inhale before uttering it.

MBTHOD-OP-ATTACK l6l

While friends, with kinder eyes, woonded deeper by oom-

potsion;
^nd thooght, finding not a vent, smoldereth, gnawing at

the ieart,
^nd the man sinketh in ^s sphere for lack ai /mpty

sounds.
There may be cares and sorrows thou Aast not yet con-

sid»^,
^nd well may thy soul rejoice in the fair privilege oi

speech;
For at /very turn to want a word — thou canst not guess

that want;
Ana lack at breath or bread, life Aath no grief more gal-
ling.

^M. P. TuppxE.

Womanly Convxrsation

Keep watch en your words, my sisters^

For words ore wonderful things;
They are sweet, like the bees' fresh Aoney;

Like the bees, they Aave terrible stings.
They can bless like the warm, glad sunshine,

^nd brighten a lonely life;
They can cut in the strife at anger

Like an ^pen two-/dged knife.

Let them pass through your lips michallenged,*

It their errand » true and Idnd —
It they come to support the weary,

To comfort and ^elp the blind.
R a bitter, revengeful spirit

Prompt the words, let them be fmsaid;
They may flash through a brain like lightning.

Or fall an the heart like lead.

^Tbe letter n ii attacked aa a Towel only when oaed aa a short Towel
la ancb wocda as «/, mm, etc., while in such words as im». In whkii Its
iaitlal aonad Is^, it should be atucked as a ooBtlmious souad.
SS^tl

l6a STAMMERING AND STUTTBRINa

Keep them, <T they're cold and cra^l,

^nder bar and lock and seal;
The wounds they make, my sisters,

^re always slow to AeaL
God guard your lips and /ver.

Prom the time at your ^arly youth*
May the words that you daily titter

Be the words at beautiful truth.

Thi Tongub

^The boneless tongue, so small and weak.
Can crush and kill,* declared the Greek.

^The tongue destroys a greater Aorde,*
The Turk asserts, ^than does the sword.*

The Persian proverb wisely saith:
^A lengthy tongue — an /arly death.*

Or sometimes takes this form ihstead:

* Don't let your tongue cut ^,;^our Aead.*

^The tongue can speak a word wAose speed,*
Say the Chinese, ^mitstrips the steed.*

While the y^rab sages this nnpart:

^The tongue's great store-^ouse A the Aeart.*

The sacred writer crowns the «/hole—

^ IVAo keeps Ais tongue doth keep Mb souL*

Turn Stamicx&xng Bor

O why j^ the world filled with joy and with pleasure 1

While sorrow my portion must be ?
Why M it the sunlight that knoweth no measure

Doth brighten all nature but me?

MBTHOD-OF-ATTACK 163

The birds to iheir oomradM «re singihg tlieir gladnass

With all a£ their God-given pow'rs;
While alone /am sitting ih sDence and sadness.

No friends through the long, dreary Aours.

/dare not complain, though companions all leaye me;

J/ow can they my presence /n joy ?
To their sports and their pleasures why should the/
receive me,

A stammering, stuttering boy ?

.£ach word as a river, ^ach sentence an tfoean,

Confronts me with terror and fear ;
lVko~^et /address m my fright and /motion

Seems ready to mock and to sneer.

A seems that the words which /need most m speaUag

^re always the hardest to say ;
To make plain my meaning / then must go seeking

Some /ndirect, roundabout way.

TF in thoughts ai the future /seek consolation,

What-'/'er /shall choose for my course.
My impediment rises to check aspiration,

A stifling, /hsup*rable force.

But now my dark pathway a radiance brightens,

A chance at /scape from my doom ;
An angel at //ope with ^is blest words enlightens

The gathering, thickening gloom.

He tells me ot some, in affliction my brotherst
IVM> from their dread curse were set free;

What Aas m the past been accomplished by others
Can now be accomplished by me.

Hay God bless the work and the great ihstitution

That loosens the stammerer's tongue.
Till by all once afflicted this grand revolution,

This new song at freedom, in sung.

PRACTICE NECESSARY

THE writers wish particularly to impress the reader
with the fact that it is not the knowledge of any
one principle for the cure of stammering, nor even
the knowledge of many principles, that he must
strive to obtain. He must of course obtain such
knowledge, but this of itself is worthless. It is in
every case the application of such knowledge that
will insure success, and without it no stammerer
can succeed, nor can he expect that success will re-
ward his efforts unless he works with tmtiring
energy.

No written or printed instructions can take the
place of the living teacher in a work of this kind^
where discipline is so necessary and where contact and
association with others in the atmosphere of the Insti-
tution count for so much. The reader will readily
understand this^ and thus if his effort to succeed
through carrying out the instructions herein contained
is not rewarded with the result looked for^ it should
serve as no discouragement for further effort. The
majority of persons addicted to stammering are easily
discouraged and are prone to look at the discouraging
side of every undertaking upon which they enter.

The student in practicing should be especially
careful not to resort to any manner of expression
that will impair enunciation or that will appear tm-
natural. The ideas herein suggested as a remedial
means for overcoming difficulties in utterance are

PRACTICE NECESSARY 165

directly opposed to affectation ; the rule with refer-
ence to the position of the organs being always to
assume the opposite of the unnatural position — in
other words, — assume the natural position. This
principle should be uppermost in the student's mind.
For example : in the enunciation of the closed con-
sonant, where the manifestation of stammering is
excessive mental desire for utterance accompanied
by physical effort, the opposite to the unnatural is
suggested, viz: mental relaxation accompanied by
little effort physically. In the enunciation of the
continuous sounds, where the manifestation of stam-
mering is the continuous effort of production, the
Method-of -Attack implies the opposite to the un-
natural, viz: (i) mental relaxation as contrasted
with excessive desire for utterance, (a) physical re-
laxation of the organs of utterance as contrasted
with rigidity, and (3) the open position of the jaws.
The same principle of opposition is applicable to
the vowel attack. The lowered tone of voice and
open position of the glottis, as contrasted with the
high nervous voice and muscular contraction.

In the enunciation of any word the stammerer
should plan his Method-of -Attack according to pho-
netic production. The word wait can be pronounced
00 ait; the word yes can be pronounced ee ass; the
word yoke^ ee oke (the initial y being practically
equivalent to ee). Thus the sentence : Will you waitf
can be pronounced 00 ill ee 00 atet This manner of
dividing words does not (if a slightly fricative ele-
ment is added) in any manner impair their enuncia-
tion, and will often entirely overcome the difficulty
of stammering. Other words may be treated timi-

x66 STAHMBRtNO AKD STUTTBltlKG

larly, thus : wh in where is pronounced as though it
were commenced hoo-wer; sw in swim becomes
soo-im; the word rest becomes er-est; the word raft
becomes er-aft.

From these suggestions the reader can enlarge
upon the number of examples furnished, and in this
manner many of the greatest obstacles to utterance
can be simplified for enunciation.

In the observance of any rules, or in the practic-
ing of exercises suggested as a remedy, the student
should observe that these are merely a means toward
an end. Any exercise used in connection with a
method for the cure of stammering would be utterly
worthless without a knowledge of its purpose ; and
all exercises, whether breathing, vocal, physical or
mental, are suggested for the purpose not only of
exercise, but also of disciplining the muscles to obey
the commands of the will. Breathing exercises are
not for the purpose of giving to the stammerer
greater lung capacity or even greater physical de-
velopment — true, they accomplish this, but the
prime object is that of disciplining the muscles to
respond to the desire of the mind.

When we can exercise command over every organ
and muscle concerned in respiration and can obtain
a ready response individually and collectively from
such organs — when through vocal exercise we can
control vocalization, and can produce at will any
sound or combination of sounds — when through
physical exercise the mind becomes master, and the
muscles of the body, servants — when every organ
of the body is under absolute subjection — then, and
not until then, will we be able to talk fluently.

PART II

THE CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

(i«7)

INTRODUCTORY

IN TREATING of the Cultivation of the voice, writers
are more or less hampered by a lack of terms
having a generally accepted significance. The
vocal organ cannot be placed in a position where its
full mechanism may be studied, and where it may
be seen in actual operation. Besides this, the tones,
inflections, and qualities which it produces cannot
be recorded, therefore it is a subject difficult of
scientific treatment.

Because of these very difficulties it must be con-
fessed that a horde of incompetents have set up as
teachers of voice, covering up oftentimes a woeful
amount of ignorance by the use of high-sounding,
technical terms which frequently have a meaning to
no one save, perhaps, to the person who employs
them.

But it would be unfair to infer that all who in-
struct in the art of voice cultivation are of the class
referred to, since we know of faults which have
been eliminated, of impediments which have been
removed under their instruction, and of fine and
lasting qualities which have developed under their
guidance. For the purpose of making this distinc-
tion clearer it may be well to divide these teachers
into two classes: (i) those whose direct purpose is
to train the voice to reproduce the accent and speech
of a variety of people, for the purpose of impersona-
tion — in other words, for theatrical effect; and (2)

(169)

1 70 mTRODUCTORY

thost who are endeavoring to study the vocal organ,
its nature, capacity, and limitations, considering it
broadly as an organ of sound, and directly as an in-
strument governed by the physical and mental
characteristics and requirements of man.

The pupil under the instruction of the teacher re-
ferred to in the first class becomes proficient accord-
ing to his ability to assume the tones of a variety of
characters and emotions. He must be able to imi-
tate the nasal drawl of the uncouth, the dulcet tones
of the lover, the deep bass of the warrior, the gut-
tural of Shylock, and the whining voice of the beg-
gar. When he is proficient in these he is carried
into the realms of the emotions, he is taught to rep-
resent weakness, age and senility, anger and scorn,
fawning and denunciation, and so on through
minute refinements. While all this may be valu-
able as dramatic training it is unnecessary to state
that it is impersonation rather than voice cultiva-
tion, and that in many instances the variety of vocal
effort called forth, and the many unnatural tones re-
quired, result in an injury to the vocal organs, and
in certain cases in a loss of voice. And while this
treatise will consider the voice in speech almost ex-
clusively, yet it is proper to state that the above
criticism applies to many persons who are endeavor-
ing to teach voice culture for the purpose of song,
the desire for brilliancy of execution leading to un-
natural and strained vocal effort, until the voice
loses its natural qualities and becomes harsh and
discordant.

Work in vocal culture could begin with an in-
quiry as to what kind of sound nature intended the

XKTltODUCTdltV 171

vocal organs tinder normal conditions to make.
Prom as comprehensive an answer to this as possi-
ble, we may proceed to the more complex problem
of the capacities and limitations of individual voices.
During our research we may receive valuable sug-
gestions from many sources; the world around us is
full of noise — music, perhaps, if understood. The
various sounds of nature are attuned to harmony;
each strikes its own chord and helps to swell the tmi-
versal melody. But while there is agreement there
is also difference, and from a comparison of the
voices of men and the other sounds of nature, espe-
cially of animate nature, the observant student may
be able to determine what qualities in man's vocal-
ity are the exponent of his more primitive or animal
nature, and those which differentiate him from all
the lower orders and place him on an eminence as a
reasoning, intelligent, godlike being.

When we begin to consider individual voices we
shall regard them from several points of view: first,
as voice; second, as a voice emanating from an
organ of peculiar construction ; and third, as the ex-
ponent of a certain intelligence, habit, and tempera-
ment Prom this it will be seen that the true
teacher of voice development, like the skilled phy-
sician, must diagnose his case, and that no quack
with a specific warranted to cure all cases can
succeed.

It is a fact well understood, that for singing very
few persons have voices capable of that develop-
ment which is necessary to professional work. The
great singer is gifted naturally with fine vocal qual-
ities, which no method nor any amount of training

17a INTRODUCTORY

can originate, but simply which they may train and
develop. And while almost all persons have the
gift of song, very few, even by the most assiduous
attention, ever rise above mediocrity.

But the voice in speech is different. Since it is em-
ployed in every relation in life, and since its use is
constantly necessary, it is one of the easiest powers
to acquire and is almost universal. Most men
speak understandingly ; many men speak well, but
very few have even a slight appreciation of their
vocal ability under proper cultivation or of its as-
thetic and practical value. Almost every one has a
good voice for the purpose of speech. Practically
all voices may be made what may be termed pure.
They may have a pleasant musical quality and a
pleasing and desirable flexibility. Then, too, it is
rare indeed that a voice of sufficient power to reach
throughout all ordinary audiences may not be de-
veloped. The only hindrances are extreme physical
weakness or abnormal structure of the vocal organs.

In vocal work both teacher and pupil are brought
at times into close relations with the members of
the medical profession, and in such cases mutual
understandings are necessary if the proper results
are to be achieved. We commend the noble work
of surgery and the invaluable service of the med-
ical practitioner ; but there is a large class of cases
in which the voice has been injured by improper
vocal effort, where neither doctor nor surgeon can
afford any relief. In such cases the voice specialist
who knows his business should be appealed to, and
he should proceed upon the theory that a restoration
of the normal habits of speech will eradicate the

INTRODUCTOltY 1 73

physical difficulty. In certain cases the physician
or surgeon and the voice specialist may work to-
gether, since normal and reasonable use of the vocal
organs tends towards the health of those organs. It
is true that in these cases the teacher must be a
scientific voice specialist, since overtraining and an
unnatural use of the voice for impersonation would
result in injury. The vocal teacher bears the same
relation to the health of the vocal organs as the
competent physical instructor does to the general
physical health.

Systems of breathing and of vocal exercises are
often misleading and sometimes even harmful.
They should be given, like drugs, to accomplish a
specific object. They may be multiplied and made
complex to the mystification of the student without
accomplishing any other purpose. Let the teacher
decide, and let the pupil insist on knowing, what is
the particular end to be accomplished, and then ex-
ercises to meet that end may be employed. Exer-
cises for voice development or for correcting faults
of breathing, •warranted as good for all,* are like
the specifics of medical quacks which are guaran-
teed to remove •all* human ailments. With the
above observations in mind, which the student will
do well to carefully consider, we shall proceed to
discuss the various points deemed necessary for a
cultivation of the voice in speech.

The chief parts of the vocal organ, and those
largely subject to control, are shown in Fig. 19 on
the following page.

The dotted line indicates the jaw dropped down-
ward and outward; this opens the throat and draws

mrXODUCTORT

INTRODUCTORY

«7S

the tongue forward and downward, leaving more
space for the passage of sound at its back and
above. This gives a clearer, more resonant tone.

When the soft palate is drawn upward the stream
of air is cut off from the nose and nasal resonance
is lost.

The arch of the hard palate forms a resonance
chamber into which the sound may be thrown to
gain reinforcement

The larynx may be drawn backward and down-
ward, giving the sotmd fuller and deeper resonance.

The sound escapes through both the nose and the
mouth and unites to form the sound we hear. Good
voice depends upon the proper blending of the two.

THE ORIGIN OP VOICE

SOMEWHERE in the chain of development whose
last link is man the voice came into existence.
Probably it was heard in the swamps and forests
ages before man existed. Accepting the classifica-
tions of scientists of the various forms of animal life
from the lowest to the highest — from the jellyfish
to man — we see that the lower forms have no
known method of expression — certainly they do not
have voice. Beyond this the measure of vocal ex-
pression is the measure of intelligence. Compare
the two or three sounds of swine with the varied
vocality of the dog, the dog's ability with that of
the ape, and then take that immense stride between
this animal and man, and the truth becomes appar-
ent.

Expression comes not as a prearranged matter,
but as a necessity. It grows out of knowledge and
a variety of ideas and sensations. If the evolution-
ary theory be correct, then there was a time when
man chattered with little more variety and purpose
than the ape of to-day. But as he grew in intelli-
gence he became a reasoning being and began to
transmit the product of his knowledge to his chil-
dren — language developed as a natural and neces-
sary consequence. The reason is apparent, since
an idea cannot live and have general acceptance

without the employment of symbolism. It is also
(176)

ORIGIN 177

true that an individual who would give form to his
varying thoughts and emotions must be in posses-
sion of language. Then, when we consider the na-
ture of man and that one of his strongest impulses
is to impart knowledge, we understand how the
search for accurate and expressive symbolism has
been going on through all the ages.

Only the animal cries of man are intuitive, the
rest are learned. Many of us have a tone vocabu-
lary that is neither extensive nor exact. Proper
voice culture should remedy this defect Thought
and feeling can call forth only the expressive pow-
ers we possess — they cannot instantly create new
ones. If we wish to thoroughly understand the
voice and to master its use we must study it
Everything has its preparatory work, but to be-
come proficient in any line our study and training
must extend specifically to that line.

Man is a being with many agencies of expression,
and in developing them he widens the scope of his
mental activities. A language of limited vocabulary
denotes a people of circumscribed intellectual at-
tainments, and as a rule the individual may be
judged similarly. In brief, we measure men by
what they say and do or by expression. It is only
by this that we even comprehend each other. What
we feel we strive to express, and excursions into
new fields of investigation and the development of
new ideas are constantly making necessary a further
enlargement of the language. These new forms are
left us in literature and art, and thus succeeding
generations become richer by inheritance. Were
these not recorded there could be no progress, since

S9— 12

178 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

each generation would have to begin where the pre-
ceding one began. And thus literature has been
the means of our wonderful development through
the last few centuries.

Unfortunately, however, words only are recorded;
the tone, look, gesture, and manner refuse to be
committed to the page. True, there are those
around us who are uttering similar sentiments, and
by instinct we may give to the sentiments of a
former period their proper interpretation. But
there is a safer and surer guide, and it lies in the
accurate study of the voice. The tones and actions
of men are fundamentally not the product of imita-
tion nor of convention — they are innate and exist in
all men in common. To utter our own crude senti-
ments requires no art, no training. It is only when
we come to express sentiments of our higher na-
tures that are the result of education and conven-
tion, and when we endeavor to imitate others, that
study of the forms of expression and vocal cultiva-
tion becomes desirable. This knowledge we do not
inherit, language and art must be studied before we
may come into possession. The words of books re-
ceive significance one by one as the original ideas
which inspired them are retraced and comprehended
anew. The mind is not a beggar living on alms,
but is a worker constantly producing and reproduc-
ing. And, therefore, anything to be of value must
be grasped, vitalized, and understood in all of its
relations before we may be said to understand it.

Perhaps the most primitive form of expression in
both animals and men consists in vocalization.
Higher orders of intelligence create new forms,

ORIGIN 179

most of which are arbitrary and fixed, but their
origin is still shown by the retention of those mere
animal cries which constituted the language of their
progenitors. These sounds we make intuitively.
They are rarely uttered in their crude forms, but in
a more refined manner suitable for speech. Lan-
guage is as much a matter of convention as is dress;
each has certain natural requirements, but beyond
this it becomes a matter of convention and taste.

Each musical instrument has its own peculiar
quality; it may produce almost infinite variety, but
any one note is sufficient to inform us just what in-
strument it is. The human voice, too, has its own
native quality and nothing can successfully imitate
it. It is obvious, therefore, that one musical in-
strument cannot do the work of another, and that
the culture of the voice should be along the lines of
its natural capacity, with an idea of avoiding its nat-
ural limitations. A voice naturally a tenor cannot
be transformed into a good bass, any more than an
organ can do the work of the flute. A voice may
be ruined in the attempt to make it over into one
which we admire. The human voice in general has
its own natural qualities, then each individual voice
presents its own peculiarities. These facts must be
understood and the voice trained within its own
native sphere to accomplish the desired result.

The voice of the human being is peculiarly his
own — machines may reproduce and birds may im-
itate but neither can originate. The first sounds
made by the calf, the lamb, and the human infant
differ but little in quality, but from the first they
begin to diverge until there is soon left but little

l8o CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

resemblance. In them all the sound of short a is
prominent. This is usually preceded by some con-
sonant which is due to the preliminary formation of
the mouth, to inhalation or exhalation. When the
sound begins before the lips are opened it will prob-
ably be the nasal sound of w, and this followed by
the sound of a makes the cry of ma. When the
sound starts before the lips are opened, and is not
thrown through the nose, a subvocal results, which,
when the lips are opened, is recognized as b^ and
this followed by a makes the well-known cry of ba^
and then we find the a combined with a number of
consonants. These cries will be recognized in
several species of animals in common with the hu-
man infant. But the superior intelligence of the
latter carries it further, and other consonants are
prefixed and suffixed, then the vowel is modified
until we have the whole range of vowel sounds, and
finally the human language. The superiority of
man is shown by the fact that his vocal ability is
always progressing, while the animal voice develops
in nothing save volume.

This first infantile cry is the basis of speech. It
contains the primary sound of the human larynx.
In time we learn to place the organs of speech in
varying positions, thus modifying the oral cavity
and changing this primitive vocal element into all
the vowels. In making the sound of short a, if the
mouth is partly closed long a will result; by a fur-
ther opening we shall produce Italian a and finally
broad a. The larynx simply produces a sound
which is changed from vowel to vowel by various
changes in the oral cavity.

ORIGIN l8l

The sounds made by the infant are mere animal
cries, they are not the result of thought and pre-
meditation. They are the involuntary forms of ex-
pression that exist in animals other than man. It
is interesting to consider their points of resem-
blance. They, too, would have speech had they in-
telligence, since their vocal organs are physically
as perfect as those of men. The infantile cries are
the language of sense-impressions, too, and when
they are so acute as to dominate us, and when rea-
son and habit are eliminated our expression returns
to its primitive form. This tendency is well marked
among all classes of men, even ¥nth the most highly
educated. And even when physical feeling is con-
trolled by higher intelligence and expresses itself in
arbitrary words, there is something in the tones
that is in harmony with the more primitive utter-
ance. Then, too, we have thoughts and emotions
that are merely aesthetic and are not the immediate
result of sense impressions; in expressing these our
tones are still further modified, but in kind yet re-
semble the first. These primitive cries, then, are
the basis of human speech. That from them we
create and develop a wonderful language shows the
marvelous mental activity of man and the tendency
of the physical being to adapt itself to the require-
ments of intelligence. We may illustrate the fore-
going ¥nth the following examples: First, sense
impression — an idiot in physical distress will
groan, •Oh.* Second, an intelligent man under
the same condition may exclaim, •Oh, I am very
ill!* Here formal words are used, but the tones
will resemble the first. Third, Hamlet, not in phys-

l82 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

ical pain but in mental distress, may exclaim, ^ Oh,
what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! * His voice,
too, in a degree resembles the more primitive man-
ner of expressing pain. The tones are alike in kind
in the three examples.

THE USE OP TERMS

IT IS unfortunate that teachers have been somewhat
loose in the emplo5rment of their terms in the
consideration of oral utterance. To illustrate : voice
is a term at times applied to the sound that ema-
nates from the vocal organs and at other times to
the organs themselves.

In order to avoid confusion in the mind of the
student it will be well to come to an understanding
of the sense in which certain common terms are
used in this part of the work, for many words have
both a general and a restricted meaning, according
as they are popularly or technically used.

Language^ speaking broadly, is any method by
which human beings communicate with each other.
Still more broadly it may signify the acts of inani-
mate objects, as, the language of flowers, or the
elements speaking to man, as, the voice of the
wind, or it may be employed to represent the sup-
posed intercommunications of animals. Therefore,
it will be seen that it is a very broad term, and
should be employed only in a general way.

Voice is the sound which is emitted from the lar-
ynx ; a whisper is not voice, since the sound is made

USE OP TERMS 1 83

by air vibrations in the mouth, neither is a whistle
voice, nor a cough, since neither is produced by the
full vibration of the vocal cords. Animals usually
have voice but not speech, since they do not shape
the vocal element into articulate sounds.

Speech is used frequently as a synon)mi of lan-
guage, but this is erroneous, and confusing to one
who desires precision in the use of terms. Speech,
properly considered, refers to that form of language
where the element of communication is vocality.
It comprehends articulate utterance. While voice
is an element it is not the only one, since this ele-
ment must be formed into distinct sounds with an
accepted meaning.

A word is a definite articulate sound, of a specific
vocal quality and quantity, and which is understood
to represent a particular idea. Therefore, a printed
sjnnbol in a book is not a word — those characters
simply represent words and are only the symbols by
which words are suggested. Only when breath es-
capes through the larynx, setting the vocal bands in
vibration, and the sound which results is articulated
so that it is recognized as the symbol of a peculiar
idea, may it be called a word. Perhaps we may say
that one who reads silently is calling words, but
these are only imagined, and in any case the symbol
which suggests an idea is not necessarily a word,
since, if it were, the dots and dashes of the Morse
telegraph system, or a painting, or bit of sculpture,
would also be regarded as a word.

Voice is a sound produced in the larynx by the vi-
bration of the vocal cords, and modified and enlarged
by the resonance chambers of the mouth and nose.

184 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

Speech is voice articulated into symbols which are
recognized as representing certain ideas.

A word is a single vocal sound or a combination
of sounds in a group, which represents an idea.

Most animals are capable of producing voice, but
only man has speech, yet at birth the human infant
shows no evidence of greater vocal ability than
other animals. Its cry for a time is monotonous
and unvarying. It is only as it advances in intelli-
gence that its vocal ability develops. It would
never develop speech if left to itself, or if it associ-
ated only with mutes. But at this stage there is a
dawning of intelligence, the faculty of imitation
which is especially strong in infants is awakened,
and besides this there is a development of mental
and physical life, which promotes expression and
urges the child on to the struggle. It imitates a
sound when in its mind it is associated with an idea,
and rarely forgets that association when it is once
established in its mind. It even repeats words that
to it are meaningless, for the sake of imitation.
But those words to which it attaches a meaning are
more attractive and are the ones most likely to be
remembered. In a few years it learns that words
are combinations of sounds, it masters the elements
composing them, and is then in a position to en-
large its vocabulary should its mental life require
it. It sees those elementary characters combined
in a manner never before brought to its attention ;
it gathers the meaning of the symbols from the con-
text, or from other written sjnnbols, and, therefore,
it may utter a word intelligently and fearlessly that
it has never heard spoken. Now all the elements

gUALITIBS OF SOUNDS 1 85

necessary to the fullest use of language are present,
and the rest is only a matter of development.

But what is the power which takes the limited,
crude cries of the child and from them fashions the
marvelous variety of human speech? It is intelli-
gence, and only this. An idiot in perfect bodily
health and having well-formed vocal organs will
never develop intelligent speech. A feeble-minded
child will never speak more than a few words, and
these crudely, while the person of mental keenness,
education, and activity will increase his vocabulary
daily until he has words to accurately express not
only general ideas but also all their subtleties and
refinements.

This emphasizes the idea, then, that intelligence
and mental culture are at the bottom of all vocal
development, and it is only truth to declare that,
properly imderstood, vocal culture is primarily a
mental matter. True, it is the result of certain phys-
ical activity: there must be a good instrument, but
the instrument without intelligence would be a dis-
cordant thing whose sounds would be mere blatant
noise and purposeless discord.

QUALITIES OF SOUNDS

AT THE outset the student of voice must have
some adequate appreciation of the various
qualities of sounds which enter into articulate
speech — the problems will be greatly simplified
thereby. The first division comprehends vowels

1 86 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

and consonants, only the former being directly the
elements which enter into the matter of voice pro-
duction. A proper utterance of the consonants be-
comes necessary for accurate and refined speech,
but they are not, strictly speaking, vocal elements.

The vowels have been variously described, but
perhaps their nature may be better understood by a
general description. They are those elementary
sounds which are produced by a vibration of the
vocal bands. They are the open sounds. As dis-
tinguished from consonants they may be uttered on
various pitches, with varying degrees of force, they
may be inflected or prolonged for considerable
periods, and, finally, they take on varying minor
shades which have been variously designated but
which may be termed tone color. Most of the shad-
ing and variety of speech are due to the vocal
elements, while the consonants, being fixed and arbi-
trary, serve the simple purpose of completing and
rounding out words so that they may reach the un-
derstanding. A beautiful song may appeal to us,
even though the words are in a foreign tongue. The
vowels constitute a language of tone, which in its
broader sense is understood by the whole race, and,
therefore, in music these elements are made promi-
nent and are emphasized in various ways.

Consequently, too, in speech that appeals to the
feeling, that touches those primary and universal
emotions of the human breast, the vowels become
especially prominent, while the consonants, as we
have said, but complete and round out the words
for the understanding. In ordinary intellectual
discourse the ideas are best conveyed by the plain-

gUALITISS OF SOUNDS 1 87

est and simplest symbolism, and consequently the
best expression consists in a simple vocal utterance
where all elements are spoken with equal distinct-
ness with the purpose simply of reaching the under-
standing. But in the expression of lofty ideals,
thrilling sentiment, and all sentiment reaching
the emotions, we magnify the element of tone
which exists in vocality, and by the use of this pri-
mary and universal language convey an adequate
impression. We may reach, then, the same con-
clusion which Sir Morrell Mackenzie reached, ^that
the beauty, rhythm, and power of the human voice
lie in the utterance of the vowels.*

The vowels consist in variations and modulations
of one primary sound. When the stream of escap-
ing breath is set in vibration the sound immedi-
ately resulting is not the human voice as we hear it,
any more than the sound produced by twanging a
violin string stretched in open air is the note of the
violin. The sound makes its escape from the nasal
and oral passages, and these undergo modifications
of form and extent. Now, when there is a certain
position of the organs of the mouth while this pri-
mary sound escapes it receives some modification,
and immediately is recognized as a certain definite
vowel. Look into a mirror while pronouncing suc-
cessively the vowels, a change in the oral cavity
will be noticed for each. Endeavor to give more
than one without change of position and it will be
found impossible.

The vocal elements are the vowels a, ^, t, ^, if,
with the diphthongs 00^ oi^ ou. It may be stated
that some of the so-called vowels are diphthongs.

1 88 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

and that oo is not strictly a diphthong, bnt for prac-
tical purposes it does not matter. These vowels arc
divided into two general kinds, named long and
short. These are, however, only names and are not
descriptive of their quantities. Then they have
other sounds, particularly of a^ besides some rare
sounds of e^ o, and u. But from the standpoint of
production it will be observed that they may be
divided into three general groups, which, according
to Webster, may be marked as follows : —

(i) Uttered by a single impulse, with little lip movement,
but with stroke of jaw: e, t\ e, u. Throat nearly closed; sound
apt to be harsh.

(2) Slight movement of lips, with stroke of the jaw, a,
a, a, a, t. Throat more open ; sound less harsh.

(3) Strong lip movement combined with jaw movement;
o u 00 00 oi ou. Throat well open ; sotmd smooth and clear.

It is not meant that the above classification is ex-
haustive nor that the grouping is absolute, but it
will help the student to understand the qualities of
each sound and the general requirements in produc-
ing it.

Now a few suggestions of primary importance
should be observed, and these are fundamental,
and apply to the whole course of study for vocal
improvement.

The general movement in opening the mouth for
oral utterance should be up and down, and not from
side to side. The latter tends to give a sharp, harsh
quality to utterance, which is unpleasant to the ear
and tiresome to the throat. This is particularly
true in the utterance of / and e; if one notices the

QUALITIES OF SOUNDS 189

mouth position of a speaker when tittering these he
may know what the sound of all the vowels will be.
As generally uttered, perhaps these are the harsh-
est, and this is due to a rigid setting of the jaw,
the widened mouth, and a resultant rigidity of the
pharynx. As far as possible, then, so far as the
sound will allow, open the mouth perpendicularly,
not horizontally.

Open the lips flexibly, not rigidly ; let every or-
gan take its exact place, quickly and easily ; a mini"
mum of effort to accomplish, the result is the ideal.
With many, the muscles controlling the lips are
stiff and lifeless. Under such circumstances they
need cultivation. This may be had through a
variety of exercises, some of which we shall give
later.

Remove all effort, or strain, at and above the lar-
ynx during vocalization. With many persons there
is a physical effort which grips the throat muscles
during speech, causing the sound to be rasping, and
frequently resulting in permanent sore throat. The
effort should be on the motor organs which control
inspiration and expiration — not in the larynx or
pharynx. With many, this effort has become an
unconscious one, and it is difficult to eliminate.

Speak from a raised chest and a well-poised head.
This does not mean a chest expanded to its full
capacity nor a rigid poise of the head, but a position
that is active and easy. The lungs may be cramped
by drooping shoulders, and the vocal apparatus
stifled by a drooping head.

EFFORT

HE most important thing in all expression is the
proper distribution of effort. Too much mus-
cular effort is sure to produce an unpleasant sound;
in fact, the whole question of proper voice production
is one of economy. This principle is exemplified in
all physical activity. One at ease does what is re-
quired — not more. The backward youth, who
blunders when in a strange environment and ap-
pears awkward, has his attention so centered upon his
action that every movement is stilted because of undue
physical effort which results in rigidity. We talk best
when we feel our competency and when the effort
is not directed to producing grammatical accuracy.
A difficult task is performed best when there is that
confidence which precludes undue attention to the
performance. Any one can walk a four-inch plank
in a ffoor, but place this same plank across a deep
chasm and the task will probably become impos-
sible. The reason is that in the latter case there is
an undue strain on the locomotor muscles which in-
terferes with their normal action. Every muscle is
rigid, the joints are bound together as with cords,
and there is a total lack of that flexibility which
would render the task perfectly easy. All of the
above is peculiarly applicable to speech. Most
young speakers are nervous and embarrassed, and
this is shown immediately in the voice. The mo-
ment the speaker becomes aware that there is vocal
difficulty, such as hoarseness or indistinctness of

EFFORT 19 1

Utterance, he makes an effort to remedy the difficulty,
but the result is extra strain on the organs. Con-
sciously or unconsciously he is impressed that the
fault lies in the larynx or in the organs above, and
he directs his attention there, but he does not un-
derstand that too much effort in this region is what
has caused the difficulty, though such is undoubtedly
the case.

He must now begin to practice along new lines,
for the purpose of eliminating all unnecessary effort
in the throat. A given tone made with a minimimi
of effort should be the ideal. This will bring him to
study the general structure of the vocal machine
and the peculiar function of the various parts. He
need not take a course in anatomy, but such knowl-
edge as he already possesses will probably be suffi-
cient. He will readily understand that the breath
is taken in and again expelled by means of certain
muscles of the waist and abdomen. He will proba-
bly recall that the diaphragm is a great muscle
dividing the chest cavity from that of the abdomen.
Hence, he must appreciate the fact that the motor
power of vocalization dwells in the agencies which
control breathing. Now let him consider the vocal
machine proper, 1. ^., those organs from the larynx
upward, as parts which in a sense perform a nega-
tive function. True, the vocal cords are stretched,
but this is done involuntarily, and all other action
consists in placing the organs in such a position as
to least obstruct or interfere with the escape of
the sound.

Exercise /. — Sit erect; easily relax all the muscles of the
neck and throat until the head drops to the chest (Don't force

ipa CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

it ) Now exert just enough effort to slowly raise the head and,
with the muscles thus devitalized, prolong Ok,

Repeat the exercise on all the long vowels: a, e, t\ o, u.

Exercise 2. — Place the hands on the muscles of the neck at
the sides ; make the muscles rigid, then relax them until they
are perfectly soft and flexible; repeat the same sounds.

Exercise j. — Roll the head from, side to side, simply letting
it fall without muscular effort, bring it easily erect and repeat
the sounds above.

Exercise 4. — Repeat the same sounds while the head is
moving as above.

Exercise j, — Sit indolently in a chair; relax the whole
body; see how indolently you can count ten, or repeat the
vowels, or read a couplet.

Exercise 6. — Stand erect; relax all the muscles of the throat
as before but with chest easily expanded ; pronounce all the
vowels firmly.

Exercise 7. — In the same position speak the vowels with
full force with the throat muscles (internal and external)
devitalized, but with strong chest action.

Set aside certain periods of the day for this work.
Ten minutes at a time is sufficient, and two or three
periods every day will accomplish much.

When you feel that you have mastered the princi-
ple indicated above, and that it has become a part
of your speech, extend it to the productions of
sounds requiring considerable force. Taking the
above exercises, gradually enlarge the sounds, en-
deavoring to keep an open and relaxed throat.
Meanwhile the chest will become active and the
muscles which control respiration will act vigor-
ously, but do not allow this activity to be extended
to the larynx and the organs above.

It may be well to explain why this is so essential
to proper vocal culture. Among public speakers
there are numerous complaints of difficulties in the

EFFORT 193

throat, and these are attributed to the use of the
voice. Broadly, they may be classed as • clergy-
man's sore throat,^ and the percentage of speakers
suffering from some form of this complaint is very
large. It is a fact, nevertheless, that most of these
troubles are unnecessary and could have been
avoided by normal methods of speech, and in most
instances they can be removed only by correcting
faulty tone production. To give the voice a rest
will not assist in bringing about a cure, since when
active work is resumed the difficulty must at once
manifest itself. When the trouble has been super-
induced by improper vocal usage, only proper voice
production will cause it to disappear. In such a
case medicines and surgery will be of no avail, and
our leading physicians have come to realize this
fact. True, in any case there may be physical ail-
ments which help to aggravate the difficulty. In
such cases the vocalist and the physician should
work in harmony, neither usurping the functions of
the other.

But voice should be properly trained for its own
sake. Surely as much value is to be attached to a
pleasant voice as to the tone of a piano, yet people
utterly indifferent to the former are sensitive to the
latter. A clergyman who thinks voice training af-
fectation, and that one voice is as good as another,
will make every effort to raise money to purchase a
fine pipe organ, and yet his voice conveys the
greater message. We recognize the language
of tone in every sound that we hear, and noises ap-
peal to the understanding as much as objects
appeal to the sight. When we hear rasping,

«»-i3

194 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

rattling, or grating noises we form an idea of the
agencies which produced them, and understand that
a harsh, rasping voice is the language of something
unpleasant. True, one may be effective in spite of
a poor or even a harsh delivery, yet who will claim
for the delivery in such a case the honor for the
effect produced or deny that a faultless delivery
would have enhanced the effect.

Voice culture does not aim at theatrical effect.
The idea should be to discover just how nature evi-
dently intended that the instrument should be exer-
cised, and then to bring our habit in accordance
with this ideal. A bad voice is untrue to nature.
It violates the laws of physiology, and therefore one
who uses it is untruthful and unnatural to a degree.
To produce voice properly requires good health, and
on the other hand proper vocalization is an impor-
tant factor in securing or maintaining good health.

But let us observe here that much vocal cultiva-
tion (cultivation so called) is both unnatural and
injurious. Its value depends to a great degree upon
the object of the instruction or upon the exercises.
The usual method contemplates certain forms of
expression desired and seeks to cultivate voice to
that standard. It is theatrical, and has for its only
object the portrayal of certain sentiment, whether
that is normal or abnormal, natural or unnatural.
Another idea concerns itself with a rational and
scientific study of the voice along its physical side,
and observes the laws of acoustics and the language
of sound. It seeks to place voice in its true light
as an instrument, and endeavors to understand its
nature and to ascertain its powers and its limita-

EFFORT 195

tions. This compels a study of voice as voice^ and
excites the belief that when it is developed along
the lines of its own natural capacities, keeping in
mind its limitations, it will be a fitting instrument
for the expression of worthy sentiment and for all
characteri2^tion that is normal.

This view of voice cultivation excludes all mouth-
ing and ranting which have been thought to be
necessary incidents of voice culture. It condemns
bellowing and shrieking and spectacular exhibitions.
It also discountenances the deliberate practice of
those qualities which are impure and unnatural and
which are studied only for purposes of exhibition.

Many students of voice are confronted with some
nine qualities, which are elaborately described, while
under each is a series of extracts in which the par-
ticular quality is to be employed. One division dis-
cusses pure voice, and the extracts are read by the
student for the purpose of acquiring this quality
and of eliminating all impurities. When this has
been mastered, another division is confronted under
which various impure qualities are described, and
these are followed by examples which are intended
to afford exercise. In these, pure tones are re-
garded as faults, and a premium is placed on various
forms of harshness and nasality. This method of
study is unscientific and unnatural, and does not
tend to establish good habits of vocalization. As
well teach a child both good and evil as to teach
both pure and impure, normal and abnormal, vocal
usage.

This treatise will consider but one general quality
of voice, which may be designated as pure, or that

196 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

form that is made as nature intended it should be,
or, negatively speaking, one that is not unnatural
and that does not violate the laws of physiology.

To secure the desired end the ability to produce
proper tones must merge into habit. We never use
an instrument well while we are conscious of en-
deavoring to learn its nature and are experimenting
with it. Proper speech should come to our lips as
naturally as we use our muscles in walking, and
only when we have established this habit may we
feel sure of having a good voice. Proper habits of
vocalization are not like garments, to be used on
state occasions and then laid aside — they are not to
be called forth in a discourse and then put by. They
should be made a part of ourselves, and therefore not
put on, but developed from within. And it may be
said that when one has pursued vocal study along
rational lines he will have established a habit so
much a part of his nature that he can put it ofif no
more easily than he can return to his primitive form
of locomotion — on all fours. Every bit of conver-
sation, every public utterance, will give his powers
exercise, and there will exist, in his subconscious-
ness, ideals of sound which he could not violate if
he would.

A person's voice is determined by several factors:
(i) his physical constitution, including his general
bodily structure and health; (2) the peculiar con-
struction of his vocal organs; (3) by his environ-
ment, since many of the qualities of speech, including
peculiarities of tone, have been acquired by con-
scious or unconscious imitation; and (4) by his idea
of sounds, their nature, purposes, and values. This

BrFOftT 197

determines what sort of ear one has. It may be
doubted whether many men would speak in harsh
gutturals if their ear told them the nature of their
utterance, neither would they whine monotonously
were their ideal of tone values high, and we should
not hear half of those sharp, hard, or nasal voices
for which Americans are noted if we knew how
they sounded. For in most instances faulty voices
are not the result of physical faults but of improper
usage, and the manipulation necessary to bad vocal-
ity is unnatural and abnormal. It is necessary,
then, for the student to observe closely sounds gen-
erally, and those of the voice in particular. Let
him listen to noises and to vocal and instrumental
music, for by listening to the singing voice he may
learn many invaluable lessons which apply to
speech. No tone can be uttered until it is con-
ceived, and when it is accurately conceived utter-
ance is usually a minor matter for consideration.
As the stammerer cannot utter a sound which he
believes himself unable to utter, so one cannot give
a vocal quality until it is adequately pictured in the
mind. Perhaps, then, many vocalists have been in
error in regarding the mechanical side too exclu-
sively, while higher and broader ideals of tone
values should have been the object.

Proper imitation is a great element in developing
vocality. If the word is objected to, then let us say
we should always endeavor to exemplify our highest
tone ideals. But it is certain that the vocal organs
respond better when we seek to imitate a sound
heard or imagined than when we endeavor to fol-
low some set formula of placing the organs. A

198 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

child picks up all kinds of vocalization by trjring to
make the sounds it hears, but to teach it speech by
any other method is a difficult task. Therefore,
while there is a subjective study, the chief study
should be objective ; and into all work, above the
first stages, should enter the thought of endeavor-
ing to represent an ideal through the agency of
sound.

BREATHING

THE student of voice must consider the matter of
breathing in order to discover whether his own
respiration is normal and, if it is not, to understand
how to improve it. He should also understand that
for special or unusual vocal effort there must be a
control that is different from that of ordinary
breathing. Countless systems of exercises have
been prescribed and many theories have been ad-
vanced, but exercises are worthless unless we un-
derstand the purposes they are intended to serve
and unless these purposes are proper. Vocalists
insist on theories of respiration which are totally at
variance with the plainest laws of science, some of
them fail even to take into consideration human
anatomy. A common-sense consideration of what
most people have a knowledge of should lead to
proper conclusions regarding the matter of breath-
ing.

A most important factor in proper respiration is
the nose, yet nasal breathing is not so common as is

BREATHING 199

generally supposed. Ask the persons whom you
meet whether they habitually breathe through the
nose and probably they all will answer in the affirm-
ative, when most likely they are mistaken. The
habit of breathing through the nose is important,
for both health and good vocality depend upon it.
There is no doubt among scientific men that the
nose is intended primarily as the organ through
which we should take air into the lungs. There are
exceptions which will be noted later, but this is the
normal method. To show that it is designed for this
purpose it is only necessary to examine its nature
and to observe the habits of animals under nor-
mal conditions. Internally it is one of the warm-
est parts of the body. This is evidently for the
purpose of preventing cold drafts reaching the lungs
and causing congestion. It offers to the air a tortu-
ous passage, so that it must travel through a longer
space before entering the lungs. This allows time
for the air to become warmed. Then, too, it is con-
structed in such a manner as to sift out all im-
purities, catching all forms of dust and retaining
them in the nasal cavities. With its folds, fibres,
and moistened interior it acts as an air filter which
was designed to render innocuous the streams of
air entering the lungs. True, one may take breath
more quickly through the mouth, as filtration either
of air or water is a process in which time is an ele-
ment.

Persons frequently acquire the habit of mouth
breathing in childhood: a cold settles in the head —
breathing becomes difficult — in sleeping the mouth
is open — and in a short time mouth breathing may

aoo CULTIVATION OP THB VOICB

become permanent. There are persons who employ
this faulty form only during sleep. The results are
a dry throat and mouth, irritation some place in the
vocal organs, at times the sense of smell is dead-
ened, and a tendency towards catarrh and nasal ob-
structions is developed. Nothing keeps the nose
healthy so much as normal usage. It has been dem-
onstrated again and again that any abnormal use,
or the lack of use, of an organ tends to create dis-
ease or some form of trouble. Surgeons say that
there is a tendency for growths to form in the nasal
passages because of the disuse of that organ in
breathing. Many are surprised to discover that
they cannot breathe with equal ease through both
nostrils, but any one may test the matter by closing
one cavity while inhaling through the other. In
many instances the trouble may be remedied by
persistent endeavor to use the nose normally.

From the point of view of the vocalist alone this
is an important matter, since there must be health
and normality of the vocal organs, and any irrita-
tion tells instantly in the voice. Besides this the
cavities of the nose are resonance cavities which
give to the tones much of their coloring, the ab-
sence of which renders speech unpleasant.

Unless there is some obstruction in the form of a
growth, nasal breathing may be acquired in a very
short time, and when the habit has been formed any
other form will appear unnatural. It is only neces-
sary to close the lips tightly and keep them closed,
save in speaking. Watch yourself and you may
find that in walking the lips may be parted very
slightly, but sufficiently to allow breathing. Try

BRSATHINO aoi

to carry the habit of nasal breathing into sleep,
think about it upon retiring and when awake, and
the mind may be so impressed that in a short time
the habit will be formed not to be broken. Snoring
is a disgusting habit which results from sleeping
with the mouth open.

One thing is obvious, and is regarded by all as an
established fact, that to breathe normally one
should inhale and exhale through the nose. Thus
the air is warmed and purified. Mouth breathing
allows the cold air to reach the lungs, dust and other
impurities to pass directly to the vocal machinery,
and the mouth and throat to become dry and
irritated. Sleeping or awake, in normal life one
should breathe through the nose. He may make
this a habit by a little thought and persistence; but
one must qualify this general principle, for nasal
breathing is not natural under all conditions, but is
simply the rule. Any violent exercise requires
mouth breathing, for the reason that great quantities
of air are required, and the mouth offers the only ade-
quate means. Dogs and horses habitually breathe
through the nose; but when under much exertion,
this is changed to mouth breathing. In boxing,
riding a steep hill on a wheel, rapid running, and
the like, one should apply common sense, and he
will note that the general rule has its exceptions.
Nevertheless, all ordinary activity requires nasal
breathing.

In speaking or singing the breath must be taken
in large measure through the mouth. The reasons
are that the natural rhythmic respiration is broken
up and one must inhale at such times and in such

202 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

quantities as he can. Then the pause may be so
short that there is not time to close the mouth and
take breath by the slower nasal method. Singers
and speakers have tried nasal breathing during
vocality, but without success. Then in any very
active work, where great quantities of air are re-
quired, mouth breathing becomes necessary. But
in spite of this some have urged that there is only
one form of respiration that is correct. We notice
that man> animals never resort to mouth breathing
until they are violently exercised, when it is in-
stantly employed. There are two forms of locomo-
tion, walking and running, and both are performed
by the same agencies; one is passive and the other
active, and the same is true of breathing.

In regard to filling the lungs several principles
should be observed, and following out these the
student may form his own exercises. The first idea
is to ascertain whether we are taking in a proper
supply of air. From habit, such as a contracted
chest, or stooped shoulders, or a constricted thorax
due to tight clothing, we may have decreased the
normal supply of air, in which case there must be a
low order of vitality. Then there are persons who
breathe in sufficient quantities, but without extend-
ing the expansion through the whole of the lung
tissue. Healthful breathing consists in expanding
every part slightly during every inhalation. Enor-
mous quantities of air are not needed, and one
with the greatest lung capacity is not necessarily
the most healthful, nor the best vocalist. Fre-
quently women breathe almost exclusively in the
upper lobe of the lungs, while many men from

BRBATHINO 203

Stooped shoulders or contracted chest, fill the hot*
torn of the lungs chiefly. Therefore it has been
noticed that in pulmonary diseases the women are
apt to be attacked in the lower thorax and the men
in the upper.

Very much has been said about the habit of
women in constricting the waist, but this is not the
only abuse of clothing from the. standpoint of proper
breathing. Fortunately we are becoming more
rational in our habits of dress, and art has taught us
that nature must be taken into consideration in the
design of our fashions. That extreme waist con-
striction prevalent twenty-five years ago is now
popular only with the vulgar, and it may be doubted
whether the ordinary dress along accepted lines in-
terferes materially with breathing. The lungs are
some distance above the waist line, and they may
expand fully unless the muscles which control res-
piration are prevented from acting, so continued
writing in an incorrect posture, with the shoulders
rounded and the chest depressed, decreases the
cavity of the lungs and prevents their normal ex-
pansion. The chest should be expanded and the
vital organs held high for good health. There is a
habit of dress often as injurious to men : the hang-
ing of many heavy garments from the shoulders,
thus depressing the lungs. A long, heavy overcoat
reaching below the knees and weighing many
pounds, in addition to other heavy garments, will
pull the shoulders down and interfere with the full
expansion of the upper chest.

There are two sets of muscles employed in breath-
ing where clothing, or habit, does not interfere with

ao4 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

the process. These muscles may be roughly classi-
fied as, (i) the diaphragmatic (including the great-
est, the diaphragm) and (2) the abdominal. Then
there are those muscles which act directly upon the
ribs, expanding and contracting them. They are
the intercostal. During passive inhalation, there is
a downward movement of the diaphragm, and a
recession in exhalation, at the same time there is
some activity of the intercostal muscles. But in
active breathing, where a great quantity of air must
be taken in quickly, the direct action of the inter-
costal muscles becomes apparent, the ribs are
quickly drawn out and the air instantly rushes in.

This form may be noticed in animals when they
are exercised: the ribs move forward and outward,
controlled by their own muscles, and recede during
exhalation. Much confusion has arisen because
persons have imagined that there is but one form
of breathing adapted to all persons under all condi-
tions. The extremes may be described as follows: —

Passive breathings where little breath is required.
This is taken through the nostrils with a downward
stroke of the diaphragm and a slight action of the
intercostal muscles.

Active breathing, through the mouth if intense,
with a strong action of the intercostal muscles and
a slighter movement of the diaphragm. Dr. Mac-
kenzie says that whatever theories may be advanced,
one can take more breath and with greater rapidity
by the latter form.

While the lungs lie within a cage composed of the
ribs, yet these are fixed flexibly so that with every
respiration their capacity is increased and decreased.

BREATHING 20$

They have been likened to the handles of a bucket,
one at either side ; when they are raised they are
farthest apart, and when they fall they approximate
or come nearer together. The whole trunk need
not be raised, but a simple muscular action pushes
the ribs upward and outward. In order to fill any
part of the lungs it is only necessary to expand the
walls of the chest over that part, and, therefore, if
one will discover just where the lungs lie he may
test the matter for himself.

The following exercises, if carefully* followed,
should be of great assistance : —

First, make sure that the air in the room is pure.

Stand erect, with the shoulders easily back; inhale
through the nose ; exhale through the mouth ; inhale
through ten seconds ; exhale through ten seconds.

Be sure that the inhalation and exhalation do
not occur on the first few counts, but extend each
through the entire number: that is, inhale an equal
quantity through every count, and exhale in the
same manner. This is the purpose of the exercise.

The number of counts for both may be gradually
increased, but never carry it to the point where it
requires any considerable effort. Proper .control,
and not great capacity, is the purpose. Never hold
the breath ; in normal respiration either inhalation
or exhalation should be constantly taking place.
This should be practiced in connection with other
breathing exercises for a few minutes several times
daily.

• Re m ember that in tollowlBC printed egcrctoet the anthon Intend tlMt,
AS In mathematical problema, the directions should be strictly obeyed.
When the proper result has been reached the pupil may vary them as he
thinks beet.

2o6 CULTIVATIOV OP THB VdCS

Now inliale as befoxv, and allow Una liraafh to
cape through the mouth in a whispering sound;

a A. Let the time for tUs sound equal that of

the inhalation ; do not allow more breath to escape
in the beginning than at the end, but make it the
same throughout. InhalatioUi counting mentally:
1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10; exhalation : z-t-5-4-5-6-7-
8-9-10.

Following this, one may begin to use the vowels^
inhaling in every instance as before, and exhaling
in the same manner, on each of these sounds: n, r,
I, 0, u, 00, If one dioose he may add to this list all
the other vowel sounds.

These simple exercises, if followed closely and
with systematic daily practice, will be of great valuAi
We would advise exercising on these, at least twice
daily, for periods not exceeding ten minutes each,
and at times when the person is not exhausted —
not, however, just before nor just after eating.

After considerable practice in the exercises above
he may apply the principles to reading. He will
see that there are rests or pauses, which are neces*
sary to bring out the meaning and to show the xela^
tion between words or i>arts of a sentence. These
pauses afford time for inhaling, when air should be
taken into the lungs as the opportunity presents it^
self and in such quantities as the i>au8es will admiL
This breathing should be quiet and unobserved.
In the following examples, the dash is not a mark
of punctuation, but indicates where breath may be
taken: —

The heavens declare the gjorf ef Qed;— sad the finaaaisat
showeth his handiwork. — Daj unto day uttsreih ipeech,— and

BREATHING 207

night unto night showeth knowledge. — There is no speech nor
language, — where their voice is not heard. — Their line is gone
out through all the earth, — and their words to the end of the
world.— ^iK/.

Practice this, taking breath at the places indicated,
exercising care that it is not wasted on the first
word or two uttered. Control its escape and reserve
sufficient to carry the voice until the next pause is
reached. When this can be done easily, and the
breathing is not unduly prominent, the number of
breathing places may be decreased, as : —

The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament
showeth his handiwork. — Day unto day uttereth speech, and
night unto night showeth knowledge. — ^There is no speech nor
language, where their voice is not heard. — Their line is gone
out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the
world.

Any selection may be similarly treated by the
student, the purpose being always to speak while
the chest is comfortably filled with air. We do not
think it is advisable to read as much as possible be-
fore inhalation. The student should not aim to ex-
cel in doing an exercise, but to firmly establish a
reasonable habit. Swimming and diving are fine
exercises for breath control, if not overdone.

The following exercise, which may be taken on
the street, unobserved, is the favorite of a promi-
nent physical instructor: —

With the head up, shoulders back, and mouth
closed: inhale through two strides, then exhale
through two. Without any interval inhale through
three, then exhale through the same number.
Keep on increasing the number of each until you

CULTIVATIOH OF THE VOICE

begia to feel an eEFort, then stop and breathe nor>
mally again for a minute or two, and then repeat.
One should exercise care that the same amount of
air is inhaled or exhaled through each of the
counts.

Never practice a vocal nor a breathing exercise
unless you know its purpose, nor unless that pur-
pose seems reasonable. Breath capacity and breath
control are the chief purposes of these exercises.

The student, in practicing the foregoing exer-
cises, has probably begun to study respiration, and
has become, in a genera! sense, aware of its machin-
ery. He is now ready to consider the matter more
technically, although we deem much of the usual
speculation on this subject neither true nor neces-
sary.

Next we should inquire into the manner in which
we breathe, and this will throw considerable light
on our practice. Broadly speaking, our respiration
is produced in the same manner as the blowing of &
bellows. The lungs are filled with air-cells, con-
nected with these cells are tubes that lead to the
larynx and there form one larg;e tube which opens
into the mouth and nose, and which connect the
air-cells with the great envelope of air which sur-
rounds the earth. The lungs are surrounded by
the ribs, which are flexibly adjusted. When they
expand, the outside pressure of air fills the lungs;
when they contract, the air chamber becomes
smaller and the air is forced out.

We may see now how it is possible to breathe only
in certain parts of the lungs. Expansion of the
Inng wilt occur where there is expansion over it, and

BRBATHINO BXBRCISBS 909

nowhere else. If you raise your shoulders you take
the pressure from the upper parts, and these will
fill with air. If the walls of the chest farther down
are thrown out, a partial vacuum will be created,
which nature abhors and consequently fills. This
is the simple theory, and from it we may deduce
that all the lung-cells should be used in breathing,
and that to do this the walls of the chest covering
the lungs should be expanded in all parts. Not-
withstanding all the theories that have been ex-
pounded, if you know you are filling the lungs all
over and without undue effort, and that you have
perfect control over inhalation and erhalation,
theories will not matter much.

BREATHING EXERCISES

Breathing may be tested, and the various muscles
exercised, by combining the following suggestions
with the first series of exercises: —

I. Assume an erect position with the hips and shoulders
back : place the palms upon the upper chest and inhale slowly
through the nose, expanding the body under the hands. Do
this without raising the shoulders or otherwise moving. Re>
lax the muscles, allowing the breath to escape through the
mouth.

a. Inhale with a view of expanding the muscles of the sides
just beneath the armpits ; push the waUs of the sides upward
and outward, without elevating the shoulders.

3. Inhale with a view of forcing out the muscles of the back

just above the smaU of the back. To do this the hands may

be placed on the back with thumbs forward, the back of the

fingert covering the dorsal muadea. Note whether there is

ti-.i4

aiO CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

expansioQ and contraction under the hands. Be carefol not to
bend the body dnring this exercise.

4. Inhale with a view of forcing oat the muscles of the ab*
domen. Expand the abdomen as much as possible during in-
halation, and allow the muscles to sink as much as possible
during exhalation. The breathing should be deep and regular.

5. Inhale with a view of forcing down the diaphragmatic
muscle, a large arch-shaped muscle separating the organs of
digestion from those of respiration. The diaphragm is attached
to the walls of the sides at about the third lower rib; and thus
in diaphragmatic breathing, during inhalation the muscle is
forced downward, with the result that the walls are forced
outward. This may be otherwise termed waist breathing, as
when we inhale we do so with a view of expanding the entire
circle of the waist

6. This exercise is a combination of all other forms of breath-
ing. Inhale slowly, exercising the will upon all of the muscles
concerned in breaUi production.

7. Inhale slowly and prolong the previous exercise.

8. Exercise a natural emission of the breath on the sound of
the letter A*

9^ Exercise a gradual and forceful exptdsion of the breath
on the sound of the letter A.

la Exercise a sudden explosion of the breath on the sound
of the letter A.

The next idea, and the one which concerns vocal
management, is proper control of exhalation. For
purposes of life it is necessary to inhale certain
quantities of air, exhalation does not concern us
especially. The air having been vitiated we throw
it off as quickly as possible. But for the purposes
of speech the method of escape becomes an impor-
tant matter. Very much heavy breathing and
gasping is due to allowing the lungs to exhaust

^The sound, not the name of the letter. The name of the letter
4 It aiick, hot its sound is what is heard in whispering AoA. (See bottom
BBOC-note on page i^x)

BRBATHINQ EXERCISES ail

themselves quickly, and they must be constantly
replenished. Consequently, some words are made
with too much breath and others with too little.
The breathing should be deep and regular, and at
times the greatest economy is desirable.

There are various exercises which may be em-
ployed to remedy this : —

I. Pronounce the vowels in a whisper, inhaling before each,
and exhausting the longs at each effort This represents the
extreme to be avoided.

3. Pill the lungs and whisper the &ye vowels, without inhal*
ing between.

3. Fill the lungs and sound ^ in a whisper, prolonging it
softly and regularly as long as it may be done with comfort

4. Inhale ; then prolong a vowel on a light even tone as long
as may be without exhaustion. If the sound wavers and trem-
bles, keep up the practice until it is firm and even. Recite a
line of poetry in one breath, then two lines, and increase as
long as easily possible.

For development of the muscles of the waist and
abdomen one may form a series of exercises, bend-
ing the body at the hips to the right, to the left,
and backwards. He may stand erect during inhala-
tion, and bend sideways or backwards during ex-
halation, or may exhale in a whisper or on the
vowels. Finally, he may bend from side to side
and backwards during inhalation and exhalation.

Recite while walking, trying to control the breath
and voice. Speaking while walking up hill is a
good exercise. Light dumb-bell practice or other
physical exercise, not too violent, is good to accom-
pany breathing and vocal exercises.

In addition to the above, breathing exercises may
be practiced in calisthenic drills — inhaling through

SX9 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

a certain number of counts, and exhaling in the
same manner. Care must be exercised to avoid in-
haling or exhaling suddenly during one or two
counts and holding the breath through the re-
mainder, but the same amount of breath should be
given to each count. Do not let the breathing stop,
either inhalation or exhalation should be constantly
occurring.

Several rules should be observed : never practice
long at one period; never practice when very tired;
and never carry any exercise beyond the point of
comfort.

VOCAL EXERCISES

THE purpose of any exercise intended for the cure
of stammering is that of discipline rather than
of development, and for this reason the student
should keep constantly in mind that the action of
his muscles during exercise is but obedience to the
dictates of the will. When by exercising the will
we can control muscular action we will be able to
converse fluently and without stammering. Phys-
ical exercises are ordinarily calculated to improve
the general health and develop the physique;
breathing exercises are considered highly beneficial
to aid in this development; vocal exercises serve to
strengthen and mellow the voice, but all such ex-
ercises in connection with any method for the cure
of stammering, though beneficial in other ways, are
given for the purpose of discipline.

To accomplish this end we should summon to
our aid every exercise possible where mind and mus-

VOCAL BXBRCISBS SI J

cle act together and in the manner herein suggested,
and control the latter to act in conformity with, and
in obedience to the dictates of, the former.

I. Assume a standing position with the hips and shoolden
hack, the body in such a position that a line dropped perpen-
dicularly from the chest would fall directly in front of the toes.

Utter the vowels naturally, prolonging the breath two sec-
onds on each sound. The throat should be well opened and
the lower jaw protruded slightly. Care should be exer-
cised that the organs are positioned properly, and no unusual
effort should be made, the object being to exercise the organs
on the production of the natural tone.

3. Utter the vowels with full force, using a decisive action
of the diaphragmatic muscle for each utterance. In the execu-
tion of this exercise the full volume of the voice should be
used, care being had, however, not to overtax the organs.

3. Commence in the natural tone (see exercise i) ; increase
to full force (see exercise 2) ; return to the natural and again
to the full force, alternating the voice from the natural tone to
the full force on each vowel, five times.

4. Exercise the voice in an effusive utterance on each voweL
The tone produced should characterize the easiest possible
effort toward utterance, and is a modified form of the nat-
ural tone.

5. Commence in a whispered utterance ; increase to the fall
volume of the voice ; then suddenly stop.

6. Fill the lungs to their fullest capacity and utter a vowel
sound, commencing suddenly with the abrupt utterance and
allowing the voice to gjaduaUy die away to a whispered utter-
ance. Repeat with each vowel sound.

7. Force the air from the lungs through the mouth ; inhale
through the nostrils to the full capacity of the lungs; utter each
vowel sound, holding the tone as long as possible. This exer^
cise should be practiced with caution, and care most be
exercised not to strain the muscles either during inhalation or
exhalation.

8. Commence in a whispered utterance; increase to the foil
iFOkune and allow the voice to gradually diminish in tone to a

«14

CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

whispered utterance. This Is a oombiiiatkni of ezardaet
5 and 6.

9. Prolong each of the vowels, intermpting their
through the glottis and making the voice tremulous.

la Commence with the full farce and suddenly
the volume of tone. This is an abbreviated form of ezerdae 6.

GYMNASTIC EXERCISES FOR THE

TONGUE

MANY forms of defective utterance result from
lack of flexibility of the tongue or because
of the rigidity of the muscles of the mouth, and
thus in order to remedy this diflSculty the writ-
ers suggest the following tongue exercises hav-
ing witnessed their beneficial results in numerous
cases : —

These exercises should be practiced before a
mirror in order that the student may form a better
idea of the positions suggested. Special attention
should be directed to the action of the tongue, lips,
soft palate, and lower jaw.

Protrude the tongue as far as possible and bring it back
forcibly. Repeat the exercise fifteen times in successton.

Place the tip of the pointed tongue at the right comer of

the lips (mouth open) ;move the tip of tongue to left comer;
alternate back and forth twelve timet. Breathe regularly dur-
ing the exercise.

3. Touch the comers and centers of the lips with the pointed
tongue (mouth open). Begin slo«|mMaiiinencing from right
to left; increase the speed wh9r^^^B<f^fteen times; then
reverse.

:cxii«r9 UL ujic u^ Yfi\

1 sloglg^Miiinencix]

THB ATTACK OP A TONE 2x5

4. Make six complete circles from right to left, pressing the
tip of the pointed tongue lightly against the edge of the lips.
Reverse the exercise.

5. With the point of the tongue drawn as far back into the
mouth as possible, make six complete circles. Reverse the
exercise.

6. Touch the lips with the pointed tongue twelve times at
the comers, intermediate points, and centers. Reverse the
exercise.

7. Place the end of the pointed tongue at the edge of the
upper gums and bring it back along the hard palate until it
touches the soft palate ; force its point as far down into the
throat as possible. Repeat the exercise twelve times.

8. Fold the edges of the tongfue up and force the pointed tip
as far out between the lips as possible. Repeat the exercise
slowly twelve times.

9. Touch the lips with the end of the pointed tongue at
points intermediately between the comers and center. The
form of this exercise should outline the letter X. Repeat
twelve times; then reverse.

xo. Trill the sound of the letter r.

THE ATTACK OF A TONE

THIS is a point requiring a competent instructor,
and at best the meaning of the authors must
be rather obscure even after full explanation. Very
many persons in pronouncing a vowel utter it with
a sort of metallic click, or explosion. It is a sound
resembling a cough, and is made in very much the
same manner. If these sounds could be represented
by characters, we should say they are of a shape
resembling the capital • D, • and that they should
be like the letter • O. • These appear often in speech

Sl6 CULTIVATION OF THB VOICE

and song when the word begins with a vowel, and
they are apt to be especially prominent in such a
word if there has been a pause or a partial rest be-
fore it.

Many vocal teachers help to accentuate this un-
pleasant quality by insisting upon a decided attack
of the tones, terming it the •glottis stroke,* etc.
The result is oftentimes a series of metallic clicks
which is foreign to purity of tone and ease of pro-
duction. Many trained singers and speakers who
have this unpleasant tone imagine it is an element
of power. It is a matter which does not concern time
nor force, since the vowel may be properly rounded
or emphatically uttered without the unpleasant catch
or cough and without undue throat effort.

Since our conception of tones has so much to do
with their utterance, the exercises which follow will
be helpful. In practice students should begin with
the long notes, exercising care to begin each gently.
The time may be gradually shortened until the
short sounds may be given smoothly. Inflected
notes also may be employed. Utter these sounds,
using the five vowels.

The muscles of the throat must not be set rigidly
in preparation for a sound, but should take their po-
sition easily while the sound is being formed. Per-
haps the general idea may be expressed by saying
that the vocal organs should not eject a sound, but
should shape it while it is escaping. This constant
cough or click is destructive to the beauty of a voice,
and is at the same time injurious to the throat.

There is a tendency to close the throat and sud-
denly allow the sound to escape If one notices

THE ATTACK OP A TONS 8I7

closely he will find that the breath is forced Into the
tipper chest for the purpose of making the sound,
but is held by reason of the closed throat. Sud*
denly the throat is opened and the air escapes forci*
bly as in coughing. One may practice saying over
the vowels, joining all together by a thread of
sound; next this thread may be made very slight,
and finally one may practice with the connecting
sound only in the imagination. In repeating the
vowels it will be noticed that long u never has this
abrupt quality, the reason being that as it is a
diphthong the body of the sound has a preparation,
the sound being a combination of y and 00, Now, in
practicing the other vowels may be preceded by y^
as y-a^ y-e, y-i^ y-o^ y-^o. This annexed sound
may be gradually diminished until it exists only in
the imagination. As the impression has so much to
do with the resultant sound, one may think, in utter*
ing the vowels, of quickly describing a circle of
sound rather than ejecting blocks of tone. After
proficiency has been attained in the above exercises,
one may read carefully selections of prose or poetry,
exercising care to speak the initial vowels with
firmness but not explosively.

The following exercise will be found excellent if
closely followed. Repeat the following words, giv-
ing long time to each : —

mayy me^ my^ mow^ mew.

These represent the five long vowel sounds pre-
ceded by the consonant m^ or,

may mty mi^ mo^ mu»

2i8 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

Repeat these sounds slowly, subduing the sound
of m and giving the vowels their full quantity.

Repeat again, making the consonant almost in-
audible. Finally, place the mouth in the position
to make m but do not utter that sound, and, letting
it exist in the mind, form each vowel.

The sound may now be reversed as follows: —

am^ eniy im^ om^ um.

Finally these vowels may be placed between
other sounds, as : —

ntate^ meaty mighty tnote^ mute.

Let the purpose be to pronounce the vowel,
whether alone or in the midst of a word, clearly
and smoothly. The short vowels may be treated in
the same manner.

HARMONY

THOSE things which appeal to hearing are gener-
ally supposed to be much more definite than
those that reach the eye, but this idea is not cor-
rect. Very many of the impressions of life are
gathered from sound, even apart from words.
Silent reading is supposed to appeal to the eye, but
it depends also upon the ear, since the tones are
imagined as we read. The same qualifications
which are essential to beauty of form and color are
applicable to sounds. All the noises we hear are

HARMONY— TONS MEANINGS 219

physical, and have form and, in a sense, colon
Each sound is a sound because a certain form of
vibration has been made in the physical ear, and
the brain looking upon the picture forms a judg-
ment, calling it harmonious or inharmonious.

TONE MEANINGS

A KNOWLEDGE of toue is innate, yet speech requires
infinite variety of modification, and this is
learned as an3^hing else is, either consciously or
unconsciously. Most words are wholly artificial and
require study and capacity as much as do the rules
of arithmetic or grammar, though some appear to
think that a vocabulary and vocal ability * come by
nature,* as Dogberry said of reading and writing.
We may discover what is natural and what is artifi-
cial by observing men in extreme conditions. They
scream, groan, sigh, and laugh without premedita-
tion, and each of these in its place is more eloquent
than words. And these sounds are most di£5cult to
imitate successfully. Tones are so absolute in their
meaning that words are construed and modified by
their use ; where words and tones conflict, the latter
are believed.

We may consider another class of words which
may be termed descriptive. Every language is rich
in them, and in modified forms they are numerous
in the vocabularies of many peoples. There is no
reason why we should say come^ go^ walk, talk^

aio CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

climb, run, when we wish to designate a particular
act, save that men have agreed that these sounds
shall be thus employed. But there is a deeper rea-
son for saying the insects hum^ the file rasps, the
cannon booms, the pan sizzles, the water gurgles, the
bells tinkle, the breeze murmurs, the owl hoots,
the lion roars. The mere utterance of one of these
words suggests the act, and also brings before our
minds the object performing that act They are
^picture-words,* very suggestive to the imagina-
tion. There are thousands of these words in any
language, and they give to it much of its music and
coloring. Thus we trace many of our words back
beyond Latin, Saxon, or Greek roots, and find their
origin in the imitative faculty of primitive man.

Mimicry is a great feature in our make-up, and
especially is it prominent in children and primitive
peoples. Now, the sounds of nature make a definite
impression upon us; for instance: the moaning
winds make us sad; the chattering brook, joyous;
and the pealing thunder fills us with awe. Might
not primitive man in feeling these emotions have
consciously or, more likely, half consciously uttered
sounds somewhat like them, to find that their mean-
ings were recognized by his fellows ?

Children and the lower animals use the ruder
forms of tone before either reason or experience
has come to dictate what they shall be. A child
laughs because it feels happy and cries when it is in
pain. It has not learned this, because it cannot be
taught to reverse the process. The first attempts
at language are shown in imitations of the sounds
of animals, as a grunt to represent a pig, or a crow

TONE MEANINGS sax

to designate a cock. Perhaps at first this imitation
is entirely unconscious. And while at an early age
we use these animal cries with accuracy, we are
equally cognizant of their meaning when used by
others. A dog*s bark will frighten the infant, while
the mother's soft lullaby soothes it to rest. What*
ever, then, the origin, it is certain that there is a
language of sounds, and that in its ruder aspects it
is generally recognized. Upon this basis we have
instrumental and vocal music and the voice in
speech. There are certain distinctive sounds em-
ployed imiversally by man and, of course, are uni-
versally recognized. A few may be enumerated:
the groan^ sigh^ l(^ugh^ sneer ^ scream^ exclamations
z&oh! ah I etc. There are common noises around
which superstitions have gathered. The moaning
of the wind is the cry of unhappy spirits. The hoot
of an owl or the howling of a dog betokens death.
Superstition in these cases is the result of an im-
pression produced by a peculiar sound, which if
made by any other instrumentality would give rise
to the same feeling. One hearing a lion roar, the
booming of the surf, or the deep notes of the organ,
for the first time, will receive an impression of awe,
and an idea of mysterious power will animate him.
If then he speaks, his voice will in a measure re-
semble that sound which impressed his mind. This
will be an unconscious imitation.

That some knowledge of these tones is innate
cannot be questioned. No one needs to be taught
to laugh or scream — no one can be taught to do it
effectively; an idiot knows how, but when tones are
joined to the utterance of words in the refinements

223 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

and conventionalities of speech we reach a point
where all is a matter of education.

And while we study vocal mechanism and voice
production do we not also need to study vocal mean-
ings? Nature has made a machine for producing
voice ; it speaks and it sings. What are the points
of relation and of divergence? It may be studied as
a sound, as a human voice, as the organ of speech,
as the organ of speech of certain individual mental
and physical characteristics. Tones have meanings
which are exact and absolute. They are like words,
of which Cardinal Newman said: •They have a
meaning whether we mean that meaning or not.*
Whether they will ever be reduced to anything like
a science may be doubted, because they are so in-
tangible. They are uttered and are gone forever.
But more should be known about them, and surely
it is our province to make the research.

It is not suflScient for us that certain qualities of
voice are usually employed in certain passages. It
will not do to quote simply a Murdoch, a Rush, or a
Delsarte. These things need to be verified by a
wide human experience — by observation of all kinds
of sound. Both animate and inanimate nature are
speaking to men. What do they say? How do they
say it? Can they teach us any lessons? May we
not find that all creation speaks at bottom the same
language, and that it is to this we should go to learn
the scales? There are certain sounds that appeal to
the ear in such a pleasing maoner that we call their
combined product music, just as there are objects
which attract the eye and we call them beautiful.
A pile of bricks and lumber and rubbish is not beau-

TONS MSANINOS aaj

tiful, because certain elements are wanting and be*
cause chaos is not pleasing to the eye. The ear is
impressed in about the same manner; there are
melodies and harmonies of sound which please the
ear, and these we call music. Sounds may be di-
vided into two classes, noise and music. Perfect
regularity of the number of vibrations in a sound
per second, together with smoothness in the sound
waves, will give us a musical tone. The howling of
the wind is not musical because the pitch of the
noise is constantly changing, making a circumflex.
The growling of a dog is not musical for another
reason — the sound waves are irregular in outline
and come to the ear in a rough and broken condition.
Variety in music is produced by changes in pitch,
by distinct steps, and by di£Eerence in voice, time,
and stress; but in speech we have all of these and
sometimes more. We have the inflected tones as
well. Why is it there is one kind of voice for sing-
ing and another for speaking ? Why do we not sing
our various wants, likes, and dislikes ? We have
seen that music is the embodiment of harmony and
that it is the beautiful of speech, and hence the
function of music is to appeal to the sensibilities —
to the emotional side of our nature. Now, in speech
we want all this and something more. We must
appeal to man*s every faculty. His intellect must be
swayed, his will moved, and this is not the province
of music. Hence, in speech we must have strength
as well as beauty, power as well as harmony, and
therefore we use the inflected tones. Sculpture, as
a rule, aims at the beautiful, and this beauty cor-
responds to that harmony in sound which we call

da4 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

music. We may want a fine building ornamented
by sculpture ; this is beauty combined with useful-
ness or strength, and this corresponds to speech.
So while harmony is not the only feature to be con-
sidered in speech, yet it is a salient feature, and no
aggregation of strength in speech can entirely take
its place. The tympanum of the ear is affected in
much the same manner as the retina of the eye.
What appeals to one person may not to another.
One eye may be sensitive to delicacy of objects and
so may one catch harmonies, subtleties, and dis-
tinctions in a sound that is a mere unmusical sensa-
tion or noise to another. But we shall find that as
we study voice we shall cultivate the ear. As the
voice becomes quick to adapt and mold itself, as it
gains in flexibility, so will the ear grow in its capac-
ity to detect the subtle difference in all of these
sounds. Some ears can detect a sound that is utter
silence to another, even as a cat can hear the deli-
cate footfalls or minutest noises of a mouse, when
the human ear would be deaf to them. It is said of
Blind Tom, the celebrated negro musician, that he
would sit for hours enwrapped in melodies his fin-
gers drew from the keys, so wonderful that others
could not comprehend them, yet he reveled m them
because he detected what to his ear was harmony,
and hence music.

The first great lesson which the student should
learn is to make a small voice and make it well.
The more voice is produced m a faulty manner, the
more the vocal machmery is disarranged and the
more established will our incorrect habits become.
Too much stress cannot be put upon this. Thote

TONE MEANINGS 225

who use their voices to any degree before the cor-
rect basis of voice production is established, will
destroy timbre and flexibility of voice and gain noth-
ing in real power, if, indeed, the throat or some of
its organs are not permanently injured. The fault
is this: the student frequently mistakes mere noise
for power, and thus sacrifices quality to mere quan-
tity. Let this be borne in mind, then : the lighter
voices, with all the delicacies of shading and touch,
with their perfect timbre and variety, with their
smoothness and flexibility, require infinitely more
practice and control than mere noise, even as they
mean infinitely more. Let this also be kept before
the ambitious student: the difference between the
light sounds and the heavy ones is only one of de-
gree, not of kind. The same inflections, the same
shading, and the same timbre are found in the
more forcible notes — they are only an enlargement
of the others. Voice is a phase of muscular activ-
ity; therefore, the first thing to be accomplished is
to establish correct habits of voice, by allowing
those muscles which should have no part in it to re-
lax and take their normal condition, while others
should be cultivated until they take their proper
place in the vocal mechanism.

There are three distinct movements or directions
of movement, of the human voice: (i) the musical,
or that note which keeps the exact number of vibra-
tions throughout, (2) the upward inflection or slide,
when the number of vibrations is constantly increas-
ing,- and (3) the downward inflection or slide, when
the number of vibrations decreases. These three
movements correspond, in a great degree, with the

8 9-15

226 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

divisions of the human mind. The musical move-
ment is the language of the sensibilities. It voices
the emotions. In music we have this movement
only, while in speech^ when the sentiment appeals
to the sensibilities principally, we have many purely
musical notes and few abrupt inflections. A good
illustration of this will be found in reading elevated
poetry. In most positive assertions and emphatic
statements the prevailing tendency is to employ
falling inflections. In pure argument, simple de-
scription, or in any sentiment where intelligence
alone is predominant, upward inflections are numer-
ous. The intellect interrogates, and the more de-
cided downward movement is rare ; but the moment
we grow dogmatic there is a succession of falling
inflections, just as there is a tendency to emphasize
by downward movement of the hands. Neither
does the voice in either of these kinds of sentiment
take that clear musical plane which characterizes
the expression of beautiful ideas, or of passages
where the emotions play a conspicuous part. There
is no need to discuss whether we should endeavor
to make the voice correspond with these standards;
it is sufficient to know that it usually does so, and to
understand that, when mastered, our powers of ex-
pression are equal to all demands upon them.

What we hear is the result of a physical impres-
sion — a picture of sound waves— and this final im-
pression depends upon the instrument which sets
the waves in vibration. When we speak of a voice
being fine the impression is due to several causes:
to the peculiar structure and manipulation of the
vocal organs of the speaker; to the conditions which

TONE MEANINGS 337

obtain in the conveying medium, including the
acoustic properties of the room; to the physical
structure and health of the ear, and to our mental
ability to comprehend true values. But each sound
makes a physical impression as definite as the sen-
sation of touch.

Objectively speaking, voice depends upon the
reception of sound waves by the ear of the hearer.
By means of a delicate film against which the voice
may be thrown, geometrical figures varjdng in
beauty and design may be produced. Some experi-
menters claim to have produced representations of
flowers and plants. Certainly, there is a close com-
panionship between the various senses, and that
may be understood when we realize that all sense
impressions are due to vibrations. Certain move-
ments we designate as jars, rumbles, or thuds; in
these the vibrations per second are very few and
are felt by the whole body. When the number in-
creases to fifteen or twenty per second we have the
sensation of a definite pitch, and this is apparent
with the increase up to many thousands, when
finally the sensation of sound vanishes. These dif-
ferent numbers of vibrations produce the notes of
the scale. When the number of vibrations reaches
millions per second we have a sensation of light,
and as these increase we have another scale — that
of colors. It is interesting to think that between
sound and sight there is an immense gap where
vibrations are neither one nor the other, and that
they are meaningless because we have no sense to
receive the impression. This relation is not alto-
gether fanciful, since to a few persons sounds have

228 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

definite colors which never change, but there is
difl&culty in forming any theories on the subject, for
the reason that these vary with diflEerent people.

The student should study sounds generally in
order to form proper estimates of vocal tones,
whether for singing or speaking. He should learn to
properly arrange and classify them as he would the
various blossoms in a bouquet, remembering always
that whatever reaches the mind through the senses
comes in the form of vibration, that the ear is the
receiving instrument, and that the mind is the
learned or the ignorant judge which assigns them
their place.

Many sounds are mere discord because the mind
fails to classify or to appreciate their purpose. Per-
haps all discord is the result of ignorance, or of hu-
man inability to interpret it. Pope defines discord
as ^ harmony not understood * The finest music is
mere unmeaning noise to the uncultivated ear.
There are other sounds which are unpleasant by rea-
son of their intensity. The filing of saws, the shriek
of a locomotive, or the hammering of iron are too
violent for pleasure, but distance softens the sound
and then the effect may be pleasurable.

KINDS OF VOICE

oiCES, like faces, have their own peculiarities
and each represents a kind, nevertheless, cer-
tain classes may be described, chiefly with the view
of enablmg each student to detect his own points of

KINDS OP VOICE 229

strength or of weakness when measured by these
standards.

In the broadest sense there are two kinds, good
and bad ; the former expresses accurately and fully
the sentiment which we have in mind, while the
latter does not. A good voice means a perfect in-
strument that responds unconsciously to the de-
mands of expression, for conscious effort in its
manipulation interferes with its freest exercise.

But to classify voices more definitely we must
consider their various phases from the standpoint of
the physical manipulation and the resultant sound.
Writers generally have adopted certain terminology
in describing vocal qualities which may be followed
in order to avoid confusion.

The normal comes first, and is the language of
dispassionate address. It requires little effort, the
sound waves passing through both the oral and nasal
passages. It must not be obstructed in its emission,
but the muscles of the throat are relaxed, and the
slight effort necessary is centered in the muscles of
respiration and in the articulating organs. It is a
clear, open tone, not obstructed in its escape.

The orotund is the voice in emotion, and is heard
in the expression of lofty and dignified sentiment.
It is simply an enlargement of the normal, every
element in that quality being magnified. Usually
the time, force, and resonance are increased. There
is an increased effort in the respiratory organs, and
the inner mouth is well open in order to secure
proper resonance.

The aspirate is a quaUty where there is a quantity
of breath mixed with vocalisation. It is the Ian-

230 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

guage of fear, secrecy, or suppression. In some it
is habitual, being due to certain physical conditions.
To a degree it mars many voices, and is due not to
too little breath but to too much. To avoid this,
students may read whole verses or paragraphs in a
breath with the endeavor to make every word pene-
trate to some distance. Another exercise is excel-
lent : since we inhale by expanding the walls of the
chest, practice speaking retaining as much of this
expansion as possible, inhaling infrequently. An
aspirated voice is bad, since it exhausts the lungs
quickly, and causes the words to appear muffled,
and therefore to have little reaching power.

The nasal tone is usually the voice of rurality or
clownishness ; all our fools, rustics, and clowns are
made to speak in this voice. It is due to too little
or too great use of the nasal passages. This may
be due to disease or to mere habit. Hints for its
cure may be found in the article on breathing.
Where the nose is the chief resonator the sound rep-
resents quaintness, laziness, and good nature, and
is not altogether unpleasant. Where the so-called
nasality is due to an absence of nasal resonance it
is cold, sharp, and angular, and is altogether un-
pleasant.

The guttural is a harsh unpleasant quality which
usually represents ill-nature or violence. It is
heard in the crash of thunder, the growl of animals,
and the violent speeches of men. It is due to a con-
traction of the muscles of the throat, just as at
times we clutch the hands and contract the lines of
the face. It may be carried to such an extent that
the throat closes entirely, as when one becomes so

KINDS OF VOICE 231

angry he cannot speak. It is usually uttered in a
low key. More or less of this quality has crept into
the speech of many men, even during the expres-
sion of ordinary sentiment. The remedy is to re-
move the throat effort, allowing the internal muscles
to be flexible and devitalized during speech. All
effort and violence are shown at once in the throat
muscles, therefore there must be an effort to elimi-
nate effort

The pectoral is a tone usually made on a low
pitch with long time and minor notes. The inner
mouth is open as far as possible, and the base of the
tongue depressed in order to produce deep throat
resonance. It is not necessarily an impure tone,
and when the time is shortened and the minor notes
removed it relapses into an ordinary deep voice. It
is to be shunned, however, for ordinary speech, be-
cause it is unnatural, and because if it is per-
manently adopted the voice loses flexibility and
sweetness. Many of the older teachers of voice
considered it the ideal, and no pupil was regarded
as having a cultivated voice unless he could roar
and bellow. It is the voice of morbid passion,
great awe, and extreme depression. Amateur tra-
gedians affect it.

The falsetto is found only among men, and rarely
even with them. It is a quality produced when a
man speaks in a woman's register, it is also fre-
quently observed in boys during a change of voice.
In some cases it continues even into manhood, but
continuous endeavor to speak in a lower key and
the repetition of exercises on a low pitch will usu-
ally remedy the evil. In many cases where this

232 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

voice occtirs it is because the ear has become accus«
tomed to it, and the speaker thinks a change to a
lower pitch sounds strange. Boys and men who
imitate much where this voice is employed, invari-
ably have a thin, high, affected, or childish voice.

The oral is difficult to describe, but is heard in
great physical weakness. It is thin and weak like a
moan, and is frequently heard in fever and delirium.
There is not enough physical strength to control
the vocal machine normally, and there is a lack of
sufficient breath to produce full vocality.

The tremolo is of two kinds: that produced by
physical weakness, and that by a surplus of energy.
As the mind controls the body, its states are in-
stantly depicted in voice. Physical weakness, sad-
ness, and grief often express themselves in tremolo,
because the muscles which control voice tremble.
It is shown in the extreme in laughing and sobbing
where the diaphragm flutters, causing the" stream of
breath to be uneven. In abundant strength the
voice throbs with energy, just as the engine throbs
with restrained power. Thus in all sentiment where
there is a strong purpose or great passion there
is slight tremolo, which suggests superabundant
strength.

Various qualities oi voice are distinguished, though
the distinction is a popular rather than a scientific
one. Some are an admixture of several kinds,
producing an unpleasant effect. Much has been
said by foreigners about the American voice ^ and
undoubtedly as a people our voices are subject to
criticism. This voice is heard rarely in the South,
but is frequent in the Northern states and New

KINDS OF VOICE 233

Bngland. It is a combination of several elements;
usually the pitch is high, accompanied by more or
less nasality, and the notes are rasping and abrupt.
To speak in a lower key does not entirely remedy
the difficulty, since the other faults make it appear
higher than it actually is. The remedy is to avoid
nasality, to make the sounds smooth and clear, and
to acquire some flexibility of utterance. Undue
eagerness in speech should be avoided, but of course
those who monopolize conversations and have very
much to say will not heed this suggestion. An
angular voice is the expressive agent of an angular
nature, but, nevertheless, there are many persons
who have acquired a voice untrue to their senti-
ments and to themselves. It may be that climate
and the hustle and jar of business are responsible
for this peculiar utterance, but still it may be
remedied.

Some difficulty is at times experienced in deter-
mining the exact key natural to an individual.
Through abuse, imitation, or mere habit, the voice
is frequently pitched too high. Many public speak-
ers use too high a key, it is a prevalent fault Often
the discourse begins in a normal way, then rises step
by step until it is a mere shriek. Nervousness and
diffidence, and even great enthusiasm, tend to ele-
vate the voice. At times the remedy lies altogether
in self-control; but in any event, continued high
pitch should be checked, since it takes from the
force of utterance, tires the speaker and the au-
dience, and represents largely unreasonable and
imcontroUed excitement. Deep thought, great ear-
nestness, or even strong passion, rarely requires

234 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

shouting and an elevated pitch. Some voices are
pitched too low ; they resemble a growl, and rarely
have any charm of intonation or a pleasant flexibil-
ity. They may have been acquired, as in the case
of the clergyman who told Mr. Murdoch that he had
paid five hundred dollars to acquire such a voice,
and was willing to pay a thousand to be rid of it ; or
this, too, may be habit. The pitch may be changed
by some systematic practice, as reading or speaking
in a higher key, if necessary using a musical instru-
ment to hold the pitch.

Head tones and chest tones have been subjects of
much discussion, and some very peculiar theories
have been advanced. The first term is descriptive
but the latter is not. There are certain resonators
which help to increase the volume of sound; these
are mere open cavities in which the sound rings,
and in which it is reinforced on its passage from the
larynx. As has been stated, there are these cavities
in the nasal passages and at the base of the nose.
When these are used almost exclusively as reso-
nance chambers, a head tone results. By a single
effort one may illustrate this, and the voice will ap-
pear to be higher, though the fundamental pitch is
not raised. Chest tones were thought, formerly,
and by some even yet, to receive their resonance in
the chest. Some have vaguely supposed that the
voice was some way produced in the chest and
simply escaped through the mouth. All the laws of
physiology and the principles of common sense
teach that the initial sound is made in the larynx,
and as the breath keeps passing upwards this sound
can never return to be reinforced. So-called chest

ENUNCIATION 235

resonance is in fact mouth or oral resonance^ the re-
inforcement taking place in the mouth and throat.
If the jaw is dropped well downward and outward
and the tongue is dropped the larynx will be slightly
depressed and a deeper tone will be sounded, even
without any change of pitch. This is important to
the teacher of voice, for frequently a voice which
seems high in pitch, but is in reality only light in
quality, may be made to have a deeper quality with-
out radically changing its fundamental pitch.

ENUNCIATION

THERE is one requirement of speech that cannot be
overlooked — it must reach the understanding
of those to whom it is directed. All the graces of
delivery and the shades of interpretation fall, if the
voice of the speaker does not carry to its objective
point. This reaching power of the voice is called
enunciation. The first requirement is that the audi-
tor should hear; the second, that he should hear
with ease, and the third that he should hear with
pleasure.

Frequently certain words and syllables are caught
without effort, while others are indistinct. This
taxes the hearer's mind in a conscious or uncon-
scious effort to piece out the discourse and to sur-
mise its meaning. It is like reading a blurred and
blotted page, or an old manuscript when certain
parts are destroyed and must be supplied. Under

236 CULTIVATKUi OF THB VOICB

such circumstances one need not expect his dis-
course to have weight, since the minds of the andi-
ence are centered on the mechanical difficulties. In
the following statement, if those parts of the words
italicized are obscured or dropped out, the hearer is
compelled to guess at the meaning: —

Who can understand his nron ? Ctesnse thou me from

serr^/ faults.

To one unacquainted with the passage this ndgfat

be understood: —

Who can understand his hearers ? Clftaism tiioa me from

serious faults.

This is frequently about what is presented to the

ear: —

Though I speak tongues men dovANGBLSb

-nd -uv not charity, I-m become -s sotmdiag brass -— — tink

cymbal.

Enunciation, regarded mentally, is a matter of
purpose and intention. Within reasonable limits
we usually reach with the voice the person we have
a definite intention of reaching. Take a child into
a large hall and he will make you hear across an in-
tervening space without conscious effort ; but have
him recite to an audience in the same building and
his voice may not carry one-half the distance, even
though there is perfect quiet. In this case it is not
a matter of vocal ability but of a mental condition.

The voice usually reaches the object which we
specifically wish to reach, because in a sense it is
focused there as rays of light are concentrated.

ENUNCIATION 237

We are constantly adapting our voices to persons at
different distances, a^d usually have no difficulty in
making ourselves understood. The best principle
to be followed in speaking to one or to many is to
look at your auditor or audience with the ever pres-
ent desire that they shall get your meaning. It is a
natural requirement of speech both in conversation
and public address. It is not only requisite for
enunciation, but for every element of expression.
It helps us unconsciously to adapt our forms of ut-
terance to the requirements of the audience and of
the occasion, and it usually results in natural speech.
Several elements should be present in speech, either
conversation or public discourse : we must have a
thought; it should be worthy of the occasion; we
must present it directly, and must constantly be
aware of its effect. There is a delivery which may
be termed introspective, in which the mind seems
to deal only with the thought, and when the speaker
Ulks as though he were communing with himself.
It has the effect of a soliloquy. Normal speech con-
templates two parties (at least, the speaker and the
hearer), and both are factors in expression, the listener
being a strong power for suggestion and direction.
The chief direction for enunciation is to talk directly
and specifically at something, normally to a person
or to persons, since it is this human contact that is the
life of speech, that guides and directs it.

To consider it mechanically and technically, we
shall observe several important factors, the first of
which is the natural quality or timbre of the voice.
Some voices are naturally clear, resonant, and pene-
trating, while others are dull, muffled, and indis-

238 CULTIVATION OV ISB VOICB

tinct. A clear tenor speaUng voioe carries and
penetrates, while a deep baas reacheSi largely,
through mere volume. There may be diseases of
the throat which render the voioe kusfy^ and growths
or obstructions in the nasal passages may interfere
with the natural resonance. The quality may be im»
proved by intelligent vocal drill, and obsbmctions
removed by the surgeon.

Good, clear articulation is indispensable — not
mouthing, but that form in which each word and
syllable stands out clearly and distinctly. Words
and syllables are often telescoped^ and out of the
wreckage of a splendid train of .words we may
gather only broken fragments. A reporteTi in de-
scribing an impassioned political address, said,
^^ The speaker got so warm that his words melted
and ran into one molten mass.* Any student may
remedy defects of articulation himself by speaking
carefully and distinctly, and by reading aloud, with
the end in view of clearly pronouncing and properly
spacing words and syllables. He should be careful
not to overdo it, since a stifled and precise utterance
is offensive. A person's speech is not designed to
attract attention either for its faults or virtues, but
to be a perfect mirror in which our thoughts are
reflected.

It should be remembered, too, that all elements
in utterance are not equally prominent at all timeSi
but all should be present and each should be given
its value. At times one hears speech in which cer-
tain words are blurted out and others totally ob-
scured, which sets the hearer jumping from word to
word and guessing what is betweexL Speech is like

VOICE IN EXPRESSION 239

the surface of a country : it may undulate, disclosing
hills and valleys; it may be a level plain, suggesting
monotony, or it may present a series of ridges be-
tween which the valleys are lost in eternal shadows.
Reasonable variety is the desired end. With these
principles in view any one may practice intelligently
for enunciation. Let him talk at something, select-
ing the distance, and use as little effort as possible
in producing a given voice; endeavor to make each'
word and syllable clear, without mouthing, and
bend all efforts to secure a natural, clear-flowing
utterance.

THE VOICE IN EXPRESSION

THE vocal instrument of the human being is capa-
ble of expressing an almost infinite variety of
sentiment, and this ability is the result of education.
We are constantly forming new ideas together with
the capacity to utter them; and as our habits of
thought are governed by hereditary impulse and
environment, so are the methods of expressing
them. Consequently, an idea usually harmonizes
with the general character of one who conceives it,
and the expression is apt to be in accordance with
both the sentiment and the character. But these
principles are not absolute ; there may be a conflict
between hereditary tendencies and environment,
and between our ideas and our powers to express
them. We may know what we cannot tell, or what
we are imable to adequately portray. It is here

340 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

that the science of expression has its field; through
it the student is enabled to correct what is unnatural
to men generally, and to himself in particular. Then
follows positive work, through which he may catch
glimpses of vocal possibilities of representing his
ideas as they are, fully and truthfully.

But it has a much higher aim, for since it is im-
possible to entirely disassociate thought from ez-
pression, so it is equally difficult to separate
expression from thought, and therefore, from either
standpoint, we shall secure mental discipline and
development. To endeavor to express in any form
a great idea, gives us a fuller comprehension of
that idea, and hence the only fact we need to con-
sider is whether it is worth expressing. It has been
said that, *that which we know we can tell,* but
it is also true that, that which we can properly tell
we adequately know. The ultimate object of all
education is not to know but to do. We are not con-
tent with mere information or mental ability; it is
only when it expresses itself, touching at some
points the lives of others, that it reaches fruition
and satisfies human desire. Expression as an ele-
ment in education is becoming more widely recog-
nized each decade. The student of literature not
only must study, but he must endeavor to also
create, however crudely, literature himself. Lab-
oratory work in science is a recognition of the fact
that one's knowledge is to be tested finally by what
he can do. Medical students practice medicine, law
students hold mock courts, and young theologians
practice in delivering discourses. It is a recogni-
tion of the idea that practice must attend preaching.

VOICE IN EXPRESSION 241

and that practice must govern theory. The opin-
ion that theory and practice must necessarily differ
in some respects is erroneous so long as both are
correct. All theory is tediously built up from prac-
tice, and when the former does not harmonize with
the latter it is wrong and must be readjusted. The
conclusion to be reached from this is that proper
expression is a necessary element in the acquisition
of exact knowledge.

It is sometimes urged against the study of elocu-
tion that it makes a person affected, and that the
elocutionist is frequently one with a loud voice, a
peculiar manner, and a shallow mind. The answers
to such statements are obvious; that which makes a
person tmtrue is not elocution but a base imitation.
If necessary we could say that every teacher of the
subject is wrong in theory, but the conclusion would
be that the theory needed radical readjustment.
Elocution we believe to be slighted because any
number of shallow persons exhibit to the admiring
public that which is emphatically not elocution.

It is our purpose in the following pages to lay
down a few principles, accompanied by examples,
which are deduced from an extended observation of
normal habits of speech. All authority is to be
questioned unless the purpose of the author is sub-
jected to analysis and found to be correct. What
theories are presented are believed to represent the
actual speech of the average cultured man and
woman, and eccentricities, even of celebrities, are
ignored.
« »— 16

INFLECTION

THE vocal organs produce a variety of sounds;
these resolve themselves into two groups,
speech and song. The latter is peculiarly adapted
to the rendition of sentiment representing feeling;
it is the voice of the emotions, while speech may
adequately express every phase of human mentality.
We rarely sing an argument or a narrative, or selec-
tions representing great volition. But speech covers
the whole realm, even that of sentiment adapted to
music, and therefore is the common and normal
mode of utterance.

The chief distinction lietween the two is one of
movement : —

The note of song has the Bame nvmbor of TlbxA-
tions during its continuance; it does not change ia
pitch during utterance, but the scale repreaenti a
series of distinct steps.

Speech notes are inflected; almost every word or
syllable changes pitch during its utterance, (. <-., it
increases or decreases in the ntimber of vibrations
while being sounded.

Observe, however, that the wonU in song can be
set to a variety of music without detracting from
the pleasurable effect, while in Speech the expres-
sion of the idea, within certain limits, depends
upon exact inflections of the voice: for instance, ob-
serve the erroneous impresaimi if • falling inflection
is placed on any word not so naarited, or if a rising
inflection is substituted for a UJSag. It will also
(343)

INFLECTION 243

be clear that every syllable has some intonation
which is absent in a note of song; u e,^ there is a
change of pitch during its utterance.

Inflection is peculiarly the language of intelli-
gence. It furnishes us a medium with which we
discriminate between ideas and express them with
all their subtleties. A word represents the general
idea, while a peculiar movement of the voice in its
utterance impresses the shade of meaning intended.
For example : well uttered with rising inflection, in-
terrogates; but with falling inflection, consents.
The following colloquy may be condensed into two
words by the use of proper inflections, as : —

Passkngbk: Does this train go to Boston?

Conductor: Yes ; this train goes to Boston.

Passenger : Boston ?

Conductor: Boston.

The grand divisions of sentiment which are
marked by inflections may be termed broadly the
positive and the negative. In the former the
falling inflection is prominent, and in the latter
the rising.

In uncertainty, incompleteness, or where there is
mental suspense or poise, the voice is sustained
without any decided upward or downward move-
ment. When this runs into interrogation or inquiry
the most significant word will probably be spoken
in an upward inflection ; but when a fact is assured,
a statement completed or a positive idea advanced,
the chief word in the clause or group of words
which contains the positive statement takes the fall-
ing inflection.

144 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

In the following examples the sustained words
are in ordinary type, those requiring rising inflec-
tions in italics, and those with falling inflections in
capitals: —

Shall we oontinne this strife t NO ; the war is OVER.
We should bniy its passions with its DEAD.

Am I to be loaded with calumny and not suffered to resent
or r^r/r/ it? NO; God FORBID!

Not all questions in form are interrogatories in
meaning. When they imply a decision in the mind
of the speaker the chief word takes the falling
rather than the rising inflection. Thus : • Do you
think it is my duty? • suggests deference to your
opinion; while: •Do you think it is my DUTY ?•
shows a strong opinion on your part that it is not.
Changing the inflection to any other word, as on
yau^ has the same effect.

We have seen that the chief word in a positive
clause takes the falling inflection, while in an inter-
rogative expression the voice is sustained or rises
in interrogation. We shall find now that in the ut-
terance of sentiments of doubt and indecision,
where the thought is neither of decision nor inquiry,
but lingers between both, the voice neither rises
nor falls, but wavers between both, as, for ex-
ample : —

Do you think so? Perhaps you are right, but let us think a
moment.

Let me see, let me see, is not the leaf tum'd down where I
left reading? Here it is, I think.

Observe that where the indecision or hesitancy is
shown in a word or clause, that word, or the princi-

INFLECTION 245

pal words of the clause, will represent a wavering
movement. But where it continues through whole
paragraphs it may be made up in sentences which
question and others which assert, and therefore
rising and falling inflections will be used.

Mental duplicity shows itself instantly in the voice ;
where there is an attempt to conceal a sinister pur-
pose behind an attempt at generous, open words
there will be a sinuous movement. A good exam-
ple is found in the speech of Dickens's Pagan.
Irony and sarcasm, where the double meaning is
apparent, and where there is a deliberate attempt to
convey two meanings, are shown in the zig-zag
movement or a joining of both rising and falling
inflections, as: —

Hath a dog money ?

Oh^ isn't he nice t

•Tls true, this god did shake!

You, you call yourself a gentleman !

It is important to notice that, as our meaning is
suggested largely by the use of the inflection, so the
insistence on that meaning is shown by an insistence
on the inflection in utterance. In other words, as
an inflection points out what we mean its duration
shows how much we mean it. An idea is rarely ex-
pressed more forcibly by a large voice, and fre-
quently the most emphatic statement depends upon
the inflection (or slide) almost entirely. This is
seen in: —

Hence! home, yon idle creatores, get yon hornet is this «
holiday f

How beautiful, how glorious it is.

A sin^^lc definite purpose in the mine
suits in some decided action ; this is she
voice and movement. Under such a cc
inflections move almost in straight lin
though when there is an insistence on a
may have considerable length. Yet thi
time, but of compass: that is to say, the
sweep through the range of several notej
move through the same range slowly,
tellectual statements or expositions nea
express themselves in straight line tones.

But the expression of sentiments of b
mony, or any elevated emotion tends to
curves. This is true of both vocality x
movement. This is in harmony with v
laws exemplified in both nature and art,
and angles represent strength and definit
while undulating lines represent the be
ornamentation.

The foUowincT examples ixnll •r«**^t^«^^•^

INFLECTION 247

Sweet and low, sweet and low,

Wind of the western seal
Low, low, breathe and blow.
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go;
Come from the dying moon and blow.
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

— Tennyson,

A long sentence often may be made most emphatic
by inflecting a single word, and generally good
reading or speaking does not require much inflec-
tion, but rather that which is discriminating and
well placed. One may find some excuse for pound-
ing out every word, but the result is that nothing is
emphatic.

The following will be explanatory: —

Brutus, I do observe you now of late.

I have not from your eyes that gentleness

And show of love as I was wont to have.

— Shakespeare,

Horatio sa3rs *tis but our fantasy^

And will not belief take hold of him

Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us;

Therefore I have entreated him along

With us to watch the minutes of this night.

That if again this apparition come.

He may approve our eyes and speak to it

•^Ibid,

In all of the above emphatic words there is no
more voice used than uttering those of the context,
neither are all the elements in the word made more
prominent. An emphatic word is the result of a

94* CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

or ooloring given chiefly to the vowel in the
accented syllable; the rest of the word stands prac-
tically the same as in ordinary utterance. Hence,
emphasis is a matter of easy accomplishment. In
the following emphatic exclamations, only one vowel
in the emphatic word in each takes the stress : —

Isn't it beautiful!

The war is inevitable.

What is it the gentlemen desiref

I would never lay down my arms.

In speech the change of key is usually gradual.
At times a conversation or a discourse is conducted
without change of the fundamental pitch. Still
there may not be monotony, since the voice in the
use of inflections plays up and down the scale, re-
turning constantly to this basic key. But where
every inflection radiates from this fundamental
pitch, great monotony is the result. Notice the
following: —

you. Good-
thank bye.
mom- are well,
Good ing. How yon? Oh, pretty

In the following sentence the speaker may con-
sider the whole as forming a continuous thought
and connect the clauses in his delivery : —

Fourscore and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth
upon this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and ded-
icated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Or he may divide it into three groups, making as
many complete thoughts, as follows (the parenthe-

INFLECTION 249

sized words being understood and thought of — not
spoken) : —

Fourscore and seven years ago, oar fathers brought forth
upon this continent a new nation (that nation was), conceived
In liberty, and (it was) dedicated to the proposition that all
men are created equal.

This distinction is important, since in normal,
unpremeditated speech, as a rule, important and
emphatic ideas are set forth as complete statements,
whether grammatically rounded out or not.

The emphatic word or clause may be in any part
of the sentence. At times the important or em-
phatic clause is first, but it should be interpreted
without regard to position. The following emphatic
words should be uttered with the same inflection in
either position : —

My theme is virtue. Virtue is my theme. Be-
cause in one form theme is the last word it should
not be made emphatic. Students may transpose
selections, retaining the meaning but placing the
words in positions where their proper rendition is
easy, then endeavor to give the same expression as
they stand in the original, as: —

Out of the North the wild news came.
The wild news came out of the North,

Afterwhile we have in view
Kfar scene to journey to.

Afterwhile we shall journey to a far scene.

PITCH AND TIME

THESE elements of speech are so closely associated
that they may be considered together, and ex-
amples illustrating one will serve for the other.
Their variations, like all other vocal elements,
depend upon the mental state and the physical
condition.

Mental acceleration tunes up the body; it becomes
more active and energetic, consequently the vocal
bands are more highly tensioned and a greater num-
ber of vibrations per second is produced, which
produces a high pitch. Under such circumstances
not only in a note is there an increased number of
vibrations, but also the individual sounds are spoken
more rapidly, which is fast time. It is a matter of
general observation that most forms of excitement
cause us to speak rapidly and in a higher key, while
despondency or physical weakness produces sluggish
movement or a low pitch. Joy, pain, anger, ter-
ror, or any form of excitement, takes rapid rate and
high pitch. In all of these observations one should
notice, however, that emotions are often mixed ; for
instance, one may be wildly excited and at the same
time filled with awe, in which case the latter might
predominate, as in the voice of Hamlet in seeing
the ghost of his father. Sometimes, too, the voice
is raised or lowered mechanically, not because the
feeling suggests, but for a special purpose, the gen-
eral principle may then be varied — as when one
calls across a considerable distance the voice is on
(ago)

PITCH AND TIHS 251

a high key in order to carry well, while the time is
slow that the words may be understood. So, too,
one may be excited and speak rapidly but softly for
purposes of concealment. But the natural impulse
is for one to use rapid rate when speaking in a high
key and a slow rate upon a low key.

Persons of an excitable, nervous temperament are
almost invariably rapid talkers, and usually the key
is above the average, while grave, ponderous per-
sons speak deliberately on the lower notes. The
young public speaker is almost certain to elevate his
voice and talk too rapidly, for the reason that he is
nervous and excited and not sure of himself. De-
termined self-control will correct this habit; the
time and pitch may always be regulated by a serious
eflFort.

There are those, too, who imagine that an idea is
emphasized by shrieking, when the contrary is true.
Any form of excitement uncontrolled takes high
pitch and rapid rate, but self-mastery holds the
reins on the emotion, checks it and makes its im-
pression stronger. No shrieked at the top of the
voice may mean yes when the speaker has calmed
down; but when uttered in firm tones on a lower
pitch is rarely to be changed, because it suggests
mental balance and self-control. A cultured person,
with powers well disciplined, rarely shrieks or bawls,
but clowns do. Loud strident voices, wild excla-
mations, shrieks, and cries are the language of our
more primitive or animal nature, in which reason and
self-mastery have no part. Of course, in extreme
conditions they are natural to all, but used habit-
ually they bespeak *an understanding simple and

15 1 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

nuchooled.* It is well to note, on the other hand,
that we may easily assume to tones ponderons and
grave, whidi are equally bad.

Before an audience there is always a certain
amount of nervousness or mental acceleration, but
it must be under the dominion of the will. Given
free rein it runs into absurdities. Controlled, it
tends towards emphasis. It centers its powers on
the expression of important ideas and manifests an
earnestness which is desirable. As a rule nervous
energy should not express itself in rapid rate and
high pitch, but in the emphatic utterance of impor-
tant ideas. We may store up this energy to be used
where it is required. The following examples will
suggest different degrees of time and pitch : —

BftUTUs: Whether we shall meet again I know not
Therefore our everlasting farewell take;
For ever and for ever, farewell, Cassiusl
If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why, then this parting was well made.

Casuub: For ever and for ever, farewell. Brutus!
If we do meet again. we*ll smile indeed;
If not, 'tis true this parting was well made.

— Shakespeare,

Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;

A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon;

Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl.

Inestimable stones, unvalu'd jewels,

All scattered on the bottom of the sea;

Some lay in dead men's skulls; and in those holes

Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept

(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems,

That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep

And mocked the dead bones that lay scattered by.

FORCE a53

How sweet the hoar of Sabbath talk.
The vale with peace and sunshine fall;

Where all the happy people walk,
Decked in their homespun flax and wool;

Where youths' gay hats with blossoms bloom.
And every maid with simple art
Wears on her breast, like her own heart,

A bud, whose depths are all perfume.
While every garment's gentle stir
Is breathing rose and lavender.

— 7*. B, Reed.

Green grow the rashes, O!

Green grow the rashes, O!
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,

Are spent among the lasses, O.
There's naught but care on every hand.

In every hour that passes, O:
What signifies the life of man.

And 'twere not for the lasses, O?

— Burns,

Speed thee. Jew! Take the wall now! On! loose the
Arabs ! give them rein and acourge ! Now or never, ♦ ♦ ♦

By Hercules ! the dog throws all his weight on the bit I
see, I see ; if the gods help him not he will be run away with
by the Israelite! No, not yet — Jove with us! Jove with us!

^Lew Wallace.

FORCE

THE amount of force required in speech may be
determined by the nature of the sentiment, or
by the distance to be reached, or the space to be
filled. A certain voltmie suggests strength and

254 CtTLTIVATXON OF THE VOICE

Tigor and is in itself commanding, but a big thought
18 not neoessarily expressed in a big voice.

So far as the reaching power of the voice is con-
cerned, frequently voices are too loud, making an
unpleasant reverberation ; besides, it is bad taste to
shout at us that which we could easily hear without.
A loud, stormy voice is apt to irritate and annoy an
audience, and it usually occurs that when a speaker
drops from this to a more quiet utterance a hush
falls over the assemblage. An habitually loud voice
usually accompanies a loud manner and loud cloth-
ing. From the standpoint of expression, an idea is
more often enforced by a firm tone and an intense
ring of earnestness than by mere volume.

Where passion masters judgment and feeling is
uncontrolled there is usually a resultant loud voice.
Such passages often occur in that which is strongly
dramatic. At times, too, a statement startling in
its nature, or a novel idea, requires force, but its
use should be exceptional. In the following lines
Hamlet's forced calm is infinitely more powerful
than the boisterous speech of the thwarted king : —

King: Now Hamlet, where's Polonias ?

Hamlet: At supper.

Kino: At supper ! where ?

Hamlet: Not where he eats, but where he is eaten.

A certain convocation of political worms are e*en at him
* • * Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable
irvloe, — two dishes, but to one table; that's the end.

XiKO: Alas! alas!

Hamlxt: a man may Rsh with the worm that hath eat of
I king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.

THE VOICE IN PUBLIC ADDRESS

THERE is no doubt that the style of public address
has been modified during the last half century,
and that it is becoming less ornate and more sincere
than ever before. Rarely now is ornamentation used
for its own sake, but is employed solely to illustrate
our ideas. In an age when the gentleman was as
vain of his fine clothes as a belle, when the states-
man was bedecked in lace and ruffles, with exquisite
shoe buckles, and powdered wig, it was only nat-
ural that there should be the most elaborate and
grandiloquent oratory. But that age has passed,
and has been succeeded by a period when men are
less spectacular and self-conscious and are more
earnest and direct in both thought and action.

It has been regretted that the age of romance has
passed and it is often said that this present age is
practical, sordid, and inartistic. It may be doubted
whether such is the case ; but certainly it is truer
and, in the loftiest sense, more democratic. There
are fewer shams and frauds and a greater ability to
detect them. Of course we yet have ignorance, and
wherever it exists there will be a parasite to feed
and fatten upon it. But we have reached a point
where it is the man and not the clothes, the picture
and not the frame, the book and not the cover,
which is the ideal of men.

Then, too, in a former period in our own country
we talked more of democracy but were less demo-
cratic. It was that period of revolt against the

(355)

256 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

tyranny of the past when our practices of life had
not yet been brought into harmony with our
theories. There yet lingered in the minds of men
the great factor of authority, and ideas of church
and state were given undue weight because of some
power supposed to be inherent in the source from
whence they sprang. Washington was the greatest
aristocrat who has ever been called to the presi-
dency, and the clergy of a former day gave reason-
able argument only when they chose, and filled out
the rest with dogma which the faithful were com-
pelled to accept on pain of excommunication.

The revolt of the colonies and the declaration that
* men are created equal * inaugurated a new era.
Growing out of this idea, and as a necessity to our
political union, came the idea of the separation of
church and state. This resulted in the enfranchise-
ment of man, and placed his own judgment and
conscience in supreme command. It took time to
adjust our habits of thought to this new ideal; and
not, perhaps, until we went so far as to carry out
our declaration of the supremacy of the individual
did the principle become absolute in practice.

One has but to observe the methods by which
great matters of government, of state, or of busi-
ness are conducted, to form some idea of the require-
ments of public address. The theory of democracy
runs through them all. In our political campaign
the country resolves itself into a great debating so-
ciety, every member of which is entitled to be heard
and is heard. Laws are made by bodies of men,
each member of which has a voice. In business
every stockholder has power to decide questions to

VOICE IN PUBLIC ADDRESS 257

the extent of his interest, and religious bodies are
subject to the demands of a majority. Wherever
there is parliamentary usage there is democracy, for
imder its theory the humblest individual has all the
rights and powers of any other member.

Prom the above we may form our conclusions as
to the prevalent style of public speech, and may
also reach conclusions regarding what is really
eflFective in delivery.

There must be thought, accurate and searching,
such as goes to the root of the subject under con-
sideration. It must not consist of unsupported as-
sertions accompanied by violent declamation. In
substance it may not be startlingly novel or original,
but it must be stated or construed in a plausible
manner in the support of a proposition. The deliv-
ery should be straightforward, simple, and earnest.

Either great dignity or deference is usually out
of place — the theory is equality. There are times
when an attitude of pleasant familiarity is eflFective,
but if this is employed on more serious or important
occasions the effect is disastrous. A speaker must
preserve his self-respect and his poise, and not allow
timidity, self-esteem, or any other matter to inter-
fere with this.

A discourse based entirely upon facts, and pre-
sented in a perfectly colorless tone, is usually
exceedingly tedious and wearisome. Nearly all
discourse needs illumination. An epigram, a short
pithy illustration which illumines the idea, is eflFec-
tive. A speaker should not be swayed a moment
from his main purpose. Anecdotes and humorous
descriptions are frequently indulged in because they
ss — 17

)58 CULTIVATION OV THE VOICE

seem to please, when in fact they may not add one
jot to tbe speaker's purpose. Perhaps he has do
purpose only to tickle the fancy for a moment — in
such a case he is of the order of the clown.

He must show ability to feel ; we cannot kindle
others until we ourselves feel the touch of fire. The
sickening emotionalism so often observed is the
product of surface feeling. True feeling in an ad-
dress adds to the abstract thought a concrete effect;
it shows the result of an idea upon tbe individuat
No mere calculating machine, no cold-blooded stat-
istician, was ever able to move and sway men.

But the emotion must be true; it must be nnder
control, it is rather suggestive than realistic; true
in kind but moderate in degree. Scientific or math-
ematical truth is colorless; it is entirely a product
of reason or of observation, and its presentation is
hindered by any show of feeling. But, on the other
hand, a style whicn would present a great truth of
religion or of government as a cold, abstract truth
in which the individual has only an intellectual con-
cern would be an absolute untruth.

A speaker must be convinced of the tratb of his
assertions to achieve the best results. Many per-
sons, it is true, are good actors and can produce an
impression, whether in sympathy with their own
utterance or not; but, in general, conviction in our-
selves tends to produce conviction in others. It is
shown in the tone and manner, in ways impossible
to the mere actor. When a speaker is clear in his
ideas and is profoundly convinced of their truth he
will find it difficult to rant. He may be earnest,
impressive, powerful ; but this does not mean rant>

VOICE IN PUBLIC ADDRESS 259

ing. But one with a slender stock of ideas, and
with a desire to be eloquent, has all the elements to
make a most successful ranter.

An unimportant idea does not become any more
impressive by an endeavor at great emphasis; ordi-
nary ideas look best in ordinary type — not in
italics. And, too, only great thoughts carry with
them great emotions, and, therefore, one who bub-
bles over with feeling over every trivial statement
is ineffective because he is shallow.

Public address is, in every essential of thought,
feeling, or delivery, a magnified picture of conver-
sation, with the exception that there is but one
speaker. As we speak to greater numbers of men
our responsibilities are greater, and, therefore, our
thoughts should be carefully considered and ar-
ranged, our diction proper, and our manner more
dignified. To secure the best vocal method and
proper activity in presentation one should practice
telling his thought to an individual or to an object,
such as a chair. When he feels that he can do this
as naturally as in conversation he may enlarge the
picture, and he will discover the best style for de-
livery. Not an inflection or gesture will be altered,
but every power magnified. This will help to avoid
the too common preaching tone.

An audience is a congregation of individuals; the
ordinary tones of unpremeditated speech are familiar
to them. Unconsciously they compare the qualities
of the voice of a speaker with the ordinary standards
of daily speech. When in kind they are like to
these they are convincing, because they are normal
and true ; when they are not we think some one it

26o CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

preaching to us — that is, going through a mere
form.

Truth, in both matter and delivery, is the watch-
word. Its possession carries conviction to our own
minds, which we are apt to transmit to others.
It makes us earnest and gives into our hands
weapons we never imagined we could use. It re-
quires us to clothe it in the most suitable expres-
sion, yet restrains us from over-ornamentation
which would belittle its majesty. It will not allow
us to rant and rave since that is not becoming to its
dignity, but encourages us to play the part of men
while acting as its sponsors.

THE CARE OF CHILDREN'S VOICES

THE proper development of children's voices should
receive more attention than the fashions of
their garments, since vocality is such an important
element in our education, and because it is, next to
general appearance, the most distinguishing feature
of the individual. We have learned that the child's
early associates make an indelible impression upon
its character. One who hears nothing but slang
will talk slang, and it is also true that the qualities
of tone and habits of speech are governed very
largfely by what we hear. Nasality, harshness of
voice, and unnatural pitches are most probably the
result of unconscious imitation, and when this is
added to predisposition the result is an extreme.

CHILDREN'S VOICES— MUSIC 26 1

The high, thin, irritable voices of teachers and par-
ents affect the child's nature as well as its habits of
speech. There are families where the scolding tone
is the rule of the parents; every child in that house-
hold will adopt it as the normal method of speech.
Consequently, abnormal vocal habits are acquired
along with improper ideas of tone. It is difBcult to
eliminate these faults at a later period in life, because
the person has no ear for that which is normal, and
he will consider pure tones as the language of affec-
tation. If the tones heard in childhood were usually
pure, gentle and kindly, there would be little need
for vocal drill for any of these children in later years.

The worst voices are heard in our schoolrooms;
they are apt to be petulant, angular, and irritable.
After a class has listened to this for hours every day
through years, every member of it will to a degree
represent the same faults both as to vocality and
nervous make-up. Our teachers should be qualified
in the speaking voice as a part of their fitness for
their work.

MUSIC

EVERY child should be taught something about
music, whether he is expected to sing and play
or not. It will help to form ideals of rhythm and
harmony, and besides it will have a refining influ-
ence on his nature. There are men who cannot tell
one tune from another; such persons rarely have
pleasant or effective voices, even in conversation.

262 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

Very few persons become expert musicians, but all
should have some practice in this branch for the
general effect on both our voices and our concep-
tions of tone. There is nothing better than singing
in the home, where all join in because they desire to
do so. Frequently, however, but one kind of music
is heard; either boisterous, senseless jingles com-
posed of the maudlin, absurd songs of the hour, or
melancholy theological rhymes, which are repeated
so often that they become ineffective.

Music has been introduced into most of our schools,
but usually it is of a character not qualified to refine
our natures or give us an impression of tone values.
There are songs, to accompany a march or physical
exercises, which are about as melodious as mere
marking time. There are also songs which set a
premium on mere noise, and which have no liter-
ary or musical merit, such as: ^* In days of spring
the birds do sing,** etc. A little variety is desirable.
The teacher should select the songs with a purpose,
exercising as much care in this as in any other ex-
ercise. There are bright rollicking songs; quiet,
tender songs ; grave and serious hymns, and heroic
and patriotic selections. Those who have no incli-
nation to sing and have no ear for music need some
individual help and encouragement.

A teacher, too, with the exercise of a little thought
and taste may point out the underlying motive of com-
positions regarded both as literature and as music.
This will assist in singing with proper feeling, and
will produce an effect on our power to permanently
discriminate between expressive tones and mere
noise, both in music and in our own speaking voices.

SINGING AND SPEAKING IN PUBLIC

IN GENERAL with Children this should be discour-
aged, since it is usually merely for spectacular
purposes. A child who recites in public and makes
a failure or breaks down has received an injury.
He has lost confidence, is humiliated, and will
never willingly attempt it again. Yet he is more
fortunate than one who succeeds in winning ap-
plause and a shower of compliments. The latter
becomes spoiled immediately, is self-conscious and
vain, and is in no position to receive instruction or
suggestions. In most cases the applause from these
grown people means a tribute to clothes, good looks,
or a confident air. It is not because the selection
was well rendered, but gratification that a child
could do so well. But aside from this effect there is
a tendency, in this public work in churches and
large halls, to strain the voice.

Very frequently the voices of both boys and girls,
from such public singing and reciting, are hardened
and coarsened, having lost all their natural sweet-
ness and flexibility. We believe the rule of having
our boys and girls constantly reciting or singing in
public is indefensible, since it is merely for show.
We do not expect them to teach us anything nor to
impress any great truth. Usually they themselves
do not understand what they are saying, but em-
ploy tones and gestures as a parrot The more
successful they are the more insufferable they be-
come.

CHANGING VOICE

AT THAT period in a boy's life when his tones are
losing their treble and taking on the heavier
quality of the bass, the voice may be permanently
injured by any constant or unnatural strain. At
such times it is not only unwise but also dangerous
to attempt to sing the parts, especially where much
voice is required. Boys who sing in choirs rarely
have good voices in their more mature years, espe-
cially if they are soloists, for the reason that the strain
is too great. So when the voice is changing they
should not be allowed to continue with such work
until after vocal readjustment. At this age of life
there should be no elaborate or trying vocal exercise.
Frequently voices will change almost within a
week, while again it is the process of years. The
difficulty arises at times by reason of a lack of ear.
The boy doesn't know what pitch sounds the best, or
the difference between different notes, and, there-
fore, his voice roams at will all up and down the
scale. At times it will be found that by taking the
key of his lowest note (that is, his evident new
pitch) and accompanying it by an instrument (or
even without), and by softly singing or speaking on
this note, the pupil can follow with certainty. This
should not be continued long, as nature needs as-
sistance — not forcing. In many cases the normal
change is not effected, by reason of abnormal
growths in the nose or throat; and if the voice does
not change normally and within a reasonable time
a surgeon should be consulted,
(264)

MALFORMED VOCAL ORGANS

IN ALMOST every community there are persons with
some malformation of the organs of speech, and
people have the impression that they are *not
bright, ^ or that there is * something wrong * with
their minds, that they are * queer, ® etc. There is
usually an impression that the physical abnormality
is in keeping with the mental state, and that even
an operation from the physical standpoint would
not rectify any mental deficiency or bias. But this
view has been discarded by science, and in its stead
has grown the theory that such persons are not nor-
mally developed, because of a lack of the full use of
their vocal organs. For while we speak because we
have intelligence, yet we have intelligence because
we speak. When utterance is interfered with the
greatest power for mental development has been
destroyed. There are persons undoubtedly who are
almost idiotic, whose powers of speech, because of
serious oral defects, are limited to the utterance of
a few almost unintelligible sounds.

Parents should ascertain at an early period in the
life of their children whether there is any natural
impediment in speech. If there is not they should
provide ample means for the encouragement of
proper vocality, and by^all reasonable means develop
it along proper lines. If it is found that there is
some defect or malformation, even though not
great, it should have the treatment of a specialist.
Even if the deformity seems great it may be easy to

removal ot some great vocal imp(
course, after the operation the change
but is rather a matter of rapid growl
to remember that a child's constant i
numerous questions are necessary inci
tal growth, and that intelligent spee
encouraged. The silent child rarely
mally

VOICE AND ACTIOI

THE mental and physical natures of
each other. A touch of ill heall
our thoughts and make us morbid
Then the body, too, is under the don
intellect, and is a ready servant wh;
master's whim. A fine example of tt
is found in the play of Richelieu. Tht
Cardinal is represented as weak an-
health. He is about to yield to his f
wrath is aroused by the infamous dei

VOICE AND ACTION 267

But it is only for an instant thus his: feeble healtn
asserts itself and he becomes again the childish old
man.

In physical expression two things are represented :
the state of the mind and bodily condition. Almost
every emotion seeks an outward sign ; it may be an
elevated brow, the curl of the lip, dilated nostrils,
a head shake, a heaving chest, or movement of the
limbs. Broadly speaking, too, a person's face and
figure usually represent what he or she is, the stamp
being some guarantee of the material. But added
to the expression of mere form and position, which
may be said to mark our general characteristics, is
that of action or movement, which represents the
play of the mind and expresses its various passing
states.

But physical expression, too, is the language di-
rectly of physical condition, since health, vitality,
weakness and disease are all shown in many ways:
in the step, the color, the carriage, the eye, in short
in every feature, position, or movement. There
may be a conflict between the mind and the body,
and where the former is active and imperious it may
sway and dominate in a large measure a weak and
diseased body.

In observing the laws governing voice as an in-
strument of expression, the above ideas should be
observed, since voice is the servant of the master
mind that performs its duties hand in hand with
physical expression ; yet at the same time it, too, is
physical and tends to express directly the conditions
of bodily health, energy, lassitude, or disease. To
illustrate: physical weakness usually shows itself in

>68

CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

a dull eye, a drooping carriage, and sluggish move-
ments. The voice tends to weakness and indistinct-
ness. Our mental vision, too, may be described as
looking through colored spectacles. But let the
mind be aroused by a great purpose, and become
dominant, the carriage will become erect, the eye
flash, the movements take on vigor, and the voice
will become clear, sharp, and decided.

It will be seen that the elements entering into
voice are mentality and physical condition or
health, and as we credit the dictum that a sound
mind dwells more often in a sound body than other-
wise, we must also conclude that a sound voice is
the result of the two. The great vocal artists are
jealous of their health, for voice is the result of
muscular action, and the muscles are controlled by
the nerves; therefore, anything impairing normal
nervous control is detrimental to the best singing or
speaking. It is unnecessary to give directions for
fresh air, exercise, and other requisites to good
health, since they are generally known, and he who
will not care for his health for its own sake will
rarely do so for the sake of the voice, unless indeed
his professional career depends upon it. Now, as it
is seen that both voice and gesture are the expres-
sive agents of one master (the mind), and as they
are both physical, it is only natural to presume that |
they work in harmony, and such is the case. It (
seems desirable, then, to consider their points of I
relation, and to allow each to assist the other.

fn the expression of gentleness, ease, and kindliness \
the muscular action is slight and the body in a state j
of repose; consequently, the throat is relaxed i

VOICE AND ACTION 269

there is no vocal effort, and the voice, like the
movement of the body, will be easy and graceful.
On the other hand, rage and violence tend towards
rigid muscular action, the eye is set and seems to
flash because of the tension of the brows, the hands
clench, and the muscles of the throat become so
contracted that the voice is harsh and rasping.

Timidity and fear produce nervousness and a de-
sire to suppress expression, the voice wanders along
purposeless and indistinct, and the words and syl-
lables are jumbled without much meaning. The
gesture will be the same : halting, timid, meaning-
less. When a word means something to us the voice
puts upon it a peculiar stress to show that mean-
ing, and the gesture will as confidently insist upon
it. But as speech without meaning is expressed in
sing-song, so the gesture is a mere wave of the hand
or nervous movements of the fingers, expressive of
nothing save nervousness.

A swaggering^ boisterous cliaracter^ to whom we
apply the term *loud,* usually speaks in loud,
strident tones ; the movements of the body, too, are
extravagant : a swaggering position, feet wide apart,
and sweeping gestures.

Deference is expressed in timid, halting tones,
with many an uncertain inflection ; the body, too,
inclines and bows, the hands appeal, and every
movement lacks confldence.

Dignity and arrogance express themselves in
measured tones, the voice varying but little from
the fundamental pitch, most of the inflections being
downward and decided. Then there is little gesture
— perhaps a wave of the hand or a deliberate move*

2 70 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

ment of the body ; it is shown in the positive, delib-
erate stride, and the slow half -turn of the head.

As the volume of voice increases, the bodily move-
ments are magnified. One may read or speak to an
individual with a light voice and slight gesticula-
tions; but in uttering the same sentiment before a
large audience, as the voice increases in volume there
will be a tendency toward sweeping gesticulations.

Statcvicnts of piire fact^ positive assertions^ and
deter mijiatioji are expressed in straight line move-
ments by both voice and gesture. The time is
short and there is no wave or undulating movement
in either.

Emotional titteranccs^ such as tenderness, beauty,
love, and all aesthetic ideas, take time for their ex-
pression, the mind lingers over them, and the lines
of the voice and gesture are graceful and undulat-
ing. A graceful wave of the hand and a quick,
sharp utterance at the same moment are almost im-
possible.

Ordinary un impassioned ideas are expressed in
short, straio^ht lines, both of voice and gesture, but
where an idea is insisted upon the word containing
it has a long inflection and the bodily movement
takes a longer sweep.

It should be noticed that the length of both an in-
flection and a gesture may be measured by the time
of their assertion or by the distance through which
they pass. A gesture may move through a given
space rapidly or slowly, and an inflection may sweep
through an octave rapidly or deliberately.

While gesture may be described as being high or
low, these terms as applied to voice are only figura-

VOICE AND ACTION a? I

tive, since a high note is simply one where the num-
ber of vibrations is great, and a low note the
opposite. But, nevertheless, the two expressive
agents harmonize in this, too. There is a tendency,
in exalted sentiment, such as joy, hope, in fact all
elevated ideas, to elevate the chest and shoulders,
to lift the head, and to raise the eyes. All human
beings have elevated their beneficent gods and
placed their demons in subterranean places; col-
leges are placed on eminences, church spires point
skyward, and flags flutter from topmasts, where the
eye must be elevated to reach them.

All of the loftier sentiments, then, are placed high
by gesture and position, and the voice is raised to a
pitch above the ordinary; sentiments of ordinary
experience are placed in the middle realm ; while
those of a debased nature (as contempt or loathing)
are low, both as expressed in voice and gesture.

It should not be forgotten that when gesture ac-
companies voice the word where the thought cul-
minates takes the emphasis of both voice and
gesture. The hand may move through the utter-
ance of a number of words, but it comes to rest on
the word that the voice touches with a peculiar
meaning.

We may observe, also, that as there are many
words uttered with slight emphasis or coloring, so
there are many gestures, modest and unobtrusive,
which show life, interest, and animation, and which
have little purpose beyond this. But our main pur-
pose should be to seek the harmonies of expression,
the relation between the mental and the physical,
and the divisions of the latter into voice and ges-

a 7a CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

tare. The tendency is to work in anison, and this
should be encouraged, since the end in view is ade-
quate expression, and that naturalness which all
admire but which so few attain.

The greater the animation or excitement the
greater the tendency to increase this range. In
bright and happy utterance the voice plays up and
down through several notes, while in gravity or
solemnity or any depression there is little variation
from the fundamental pitch. The extremes are
noted in ignorance and excitability, coupled with
mental weakness, where the voice may be constantly
running through an octave, while great dignity
and egotism result in a measured monotonous voice
that rarely varies from a single pitch.

As a rule the falling inflection begins at a point
above the mean pitch and the rising inflection below
it. For this reason these are often mistaken each
for the other. In the following, downward inflec-
tions are used, the italicized word shows the point
from which it falls: —

(Tame) The charge \& false.

false,
(Animated) The charge is
(Clerical) The charge is

false.

The longer the slide, the farther away from the
mean pitch it begins ; thus a long falling slide be-
gins at a high pitch, and a long rising slide at a
low one.

Expression depends directly upon our present
mental conception of the thought we attempt to

ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION 273

Utter, and indirectly upon the printed page, or upon
our previous conception, or upon some other pri-
mary cause. Therefore, in reading we are represent-
ing our own mental states as they have been formed
by some previous suggestion. The language of the
book, punctuation, and grammatical construction
are mere aids to suggest thought, but we do our
own thinking. It has been demonstrated by every
test that punctuation is no direct guide to expres-
sion. It is invaluable to break up the sentence into
parts so the eye may quickly discern the relations of
the words; but we must form our own judgment of
the form of expression afterwards and follow it.

We read or speak by groups of words expressing
a thought complete in our mind. This thought
may not be expressed in a full, grammatical sen-
tence, the other words being supplied mentally and
implied in a tone. And thus a complete thought
may be uttered which would lack some words,
grammatically considered.

ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION

WHILE this treatise deals primarily with the vocal
elements, and does not contemplate any ex-
haustive study of expression, yet the principles gov-
erning the formation of the elements of sound into
speech are so important as to require a passing no-
tice. No one will fail to appreciate the necessity of
breaking the flow of a speech or essay into groups
of words or sounds, in order that the mind may

a 9—18

latter are made up of seuter
itals and periods; and the mi
ation show more or less clei
cl&uses. Going still farther w
their individual colorings; a
ments which compose these,
sonnds of the language.

All of these divisions must b
Is to be natural and effective ai
made clear; the marks of pi
guides to the eye, which sim
judgments of these groupings,
lute in their meanings and '
slavishly. There is only one ]
paragraph or sentence, while
indicate breaks in the flow of
their degrees. Two complete ;
ically considered, may in thoug
nected that they are spoken a
clauses may be given in effect i
separate and distinct utteranci

ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION 275

speech resolves itself into a simple one — the mas-
tery of these. Unfortunately, the student is fre-
quently perplexed by the difficulty that always
arises from the effort to reduce sounds to print.
Much of this confusion, however, is unnecessary,
and a few words of explanation may be of assist-
ance in making the matter clearer.

The first element of confusion consists in repre-
senting a number of sounds by the same symbol:
thus a is uttered in five or six different ways in as
many words; whereas, if each sound had its own
symbol, and that were its name, the problem would
be very much less complex.

The next difficulty consists in having two or more
symbols for the same sound, or in using a symbol
which borrows a sound. For example : c always is
represented by the sound of s or k^ and has no sound
of its own. Likewise ku represents ^, and x is really
a combination of ks or gz. So, too, we learn that
the sound of Italian a is that heard in such words
as father or calm^ but short o is its equivalent and
might be employed instead.

Another element of confusion is the vaiying
markings of these sounds in our dictionaries; each
has its own system, and each enumerates sounds
not to be foimd in the others. Then, too, in the re-
spelling of words for the purpose of indicating their
phonetic quality combinations are employed which
do not represent the real sounds, thus the sound of
broad a is usually represented as aw^ when in fact
the consonant is not uttered.

We have now reached a point where it becomes
advisable to introduce a series of practical vocal

976 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

exerdseSy although no system can be pat on paper
with anything like completeness. The exercises
need to be varied in many ways; but if the pnpil
will endeavor to grasp the underlying principles,
these together with his own needs will be guides in
assisting him to adapt and vary each series. The
first thing necessary to notice is that our language
is made up of a number of elements which may,
generally speaking, be uttered separately, and
which, variously combined, form the words of our
language. Care should be exercised in the begin-
ning to note that the names of the letters are not
usually their real sounds, and in exercising, only
the latter should be used. The table on the oppo-
site page will give the elementary sounds of our
language.

The marks and nomenclature, it must be observed,
are often defective ; for instance : the symbol of 00
does not represent two sounds of o joined, but is a
symbol to represent a peculiar tone ; oi is not a com-
bination of the sounds of o and /; nor do the terms
long and short as applied to vowels refer to the
length of time in uttering them.

The student should master these elementary
sounds and be able to detect them, and should then
endeavor to give them with precision wherever they
occur in words. A faulty pronunciation is as objec-
tionable as bad grammar, and it is shown most often
in the utterance of the little words which are em-
ployed in almost every sentence. They are spoken
so frequently that they make good speech or badly
mar it. It would take too much space to entmierate
them, but the toUowing will suggest the classes.

ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION

a77

Table of Sounds

vo-

CALA

KXY

SCB-
VOCALS

Kby

A8PIRATK8

KST

Continuous

a
a

ap«

bad

tkt

day

hat

fiar

gay

klM

oaU

J»ll

P««P

oare

lay

■

■it

ask

may

take

eomma

new

chap

ran

■h

■hop

hem

▼

vice

think

fern

was

why

loe

yee

BguivAunrrs

leal

■ or k

open

azure

••

not

them

t«

nor

■ong

uie

curb

boot

fbot

Ott

oat

•

178 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE ^H

The vowel in

these is intermediate a and not short ^^|

a as so often

employed.

■

Alas

gl^

,^ ■

fast

put

after

b-k H

clasp

dance

u^ H

chant

mask

a<t H

rasp

Staff

■

The coalescents ar and er

are frequently mis-^H

pronounced,

the former becoming short a joined:^^|

with r and the latter like the sound of ur. The dis^-^B

tinction may

be observed in the following: — ^H

fair

fir

■

pair

earth

■

air

eani

surge ^H

wear

serge

purge ^H

care

pearl

urge ^m

A common

fault is sounding

short like broad IC^^I

as in such words as : —

■

log

■

gOdO

throng

long

off

r>i ■

■ong

soft

Strang ^H

loft

■

Italian a

s frequently improperly changed Ui(^|

short a and at times to broad a

in such words as:-— ^^|

i»m

drama

ftini*

Uimcb

half ^1

:,!«&»■

salvv

calf H

pnln

t»th

calm ^H

irfSb.

Uugh

gauat ^H

rup

gape ^^1

ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION 279

The sound of long u is greatly abused in a long
list of words, by changing it into long oo^ as in : —

dew

new

suit

due

slew

tube

duke

stew

Tuesday

duty

student

tune

duel

nuisance

tuition

lucid

suitable

tutor

A combination of sounds uttered by one impulse
of the voice is a syllable. Every syllable has a
vowel, and every vowel uttered, together with a
consonant sound or sounds, makes a syllable.

In all words of two or more syllables one of these
has the chief stress or accent. Proper pronuncia-
tion requires that this should be properly placed,
but good articulation prevents the unaccented parts
being too much obscured, or dropped out altogether.

The same observations may also apply to words.
There are monosyllables which are used very often,
and are rarely emphatic ; these may be blurred in
speech, which is a grave fault, or they may be
spoken with such distinctness and precision as to
make speech a stilted effort. Thus the article a
rarely has its long sound unless it is emphatic,
while the is obscured, becoming t/n before vowels
and t/iu before consonants. Many words, such as
and, between parts of a sentence closely connected
are rarely given their full sound, since to do so
would compel us to stop to utter them. There is a
bad habit, however, of dropping them out almost
entirely.

It should be remembered that an utterance suffi-
ciently distinct for the purpose of coxjversation may

ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION

a8i

made entirely by confining the air in various ways,
and during their production the vocal cords are in-
active. It will be seen that some of these, too, are
explosives, or are suddenly made, while others may
be held for a time.

Combinations of continuous sounds, especially
where the word begins with a vowel, are usually
the most easily pronounced, and, therefore, one
may begin with these. The student should first
separate the sounds of the word, dwelling on each
and after several repetitions bring them together
again, forming one complete sound, or a word,
thus : —

»^

-a-

•n; m — a — n; man.

The following may be used as practice words.
They are not intended as exhaustive, but merely to
suggest various formations.

Words of one syllable
beginning with vowels,
containing only continu-
ous sounds : —

WORM. SOUNDS.

aU a-1

am a-m

on o-n

or o-r

of o-v

ooic oo-z

off o-f

as a-z

ash a-sh

Words of one syllable
beginning with conso-
nants, containing only
continuous sounds: —

WORDS. SOUITDS.

lame 1-a-m

moss m-o-6

nay n-a

ring r-i-ng

vale v-a-1

wash. w-a-sh

yes

zone

them

ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION

283

Words of two syllables, both of which begin with
:plosive consonants : —

beauty

hedgehog

jaunty

kingdom

duty

cortes

junta

pewter

gew-gaw

ploagh-boy

justice

pilgrim

jargon

baby

thereby

pistol

chow-chow

dangle

hector

chamber

back bite

depose

higgle

chaiger

gherkin

tan tram

kerchief

children

teapot

target

kindle

chowder

When a difficult sound is found, determine ex-
actly what it is. Take it singly and endeavor to
utter it. If this can be done, then combine it in
words in as many ways as possible. If it cannot be
uttered alone, place it in a connection where it will
be easy, and from this lead up to the most difficult
combinations.

Below we append a few exercises which are use-
ful for practice. We would advise that they be
given very slowly at first, and that the words be
divided into syllables ; gradually the rate may be in-
creased until the speech is natural: —

Bobby, bring your baby brother his bottle.

Don't add decided deceit to dreamy deductions.

Eight great gray geese grazing gaily into Greece.

Rejoice, just as the jester rejoices.

Many men of many minds, many birds of many kinds.

The moan of doves in immemorial elms, and murmuring of
innumerable bees.

Red tin-tag plug chewing tobacca

I watched a woeful widow write: White woman wants
washing.

His pretty pouting lips were puckered by purple persim-
mons.

184 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

Two paay pKK>dle puppies pUying possum.
Some stammercrH and stutterers are capable of inexplicable
offences opposed to proper utterance.

Speak the speech trippingly on the tongue.

Rural rulers rarely revel in rural mdeness.

A gorgeous, gigantic gymnrack.

Big, black bubbles, bursliag boisteroosly.

The old, cold scold, sold a school coal-scuttle.

He grinned and g^urgled and grasped his goggles.

The cat ran up the ladder with a lump of raw liver.

Six lung, sleek, slim, slender saplings.

Sunshine should seldom be shunned

She sells seasheUs, shunning society while the shells s

Round the rough and rugged rocks the ragged rascals \

A luminous, literary lecture, relating literally to the latent |
learning of the latest literature.

He knotted his cap with a knapsack's strap.
A black bootblack broke a blank-book back.
The storm shall surely cease, and silvery stars shall shimmer j

It was an egregious blunder due to ineffable stupidity; bit I
more exemplary and less offensive, since extemporaneous nt-
te ranee is obligatory.

He spoke peremptorily of their despicable conduct, and i
particularly of the incalculable and irremed labia c
qucnces.

Spicy, pungent pepper-pot, just prepared and smoking j
hot.

Soft shimmering sunshine and shifting showers, shed softer I
shades over suburban shrubbery.

He dreaded death, di^ea-^e. and danger.

Whatever he did, he did with difficulty and difBdence.

He whistled while be whinled.

And whispered as he walked ;

But wooed and won a wicked world,

While (voman wiles he balked.

ARTICULATION AND PRONUNCIATION 285

* Bobby, Bobby, shut the shutter ! *
Bobby, in confusion utter,
Did not hesitate nor stutter
But was only heard to mutter:
^ I can't shut it any shutter ! ^

In stuttering and stammering.

In hesitation, too.
Take time to think, and time to talk.

When one is watching you.

In practicing the foregoing examples, or in his
ordinary speech, if the pupil will think out what is
to be said, word for word, or clause by clause, before
utterance, he will speak with greater ease, and the
habit thus formed will be desirable.

Well articulated speech is like a string of pearls:
each syllable is distinct from the others and yet
united. Most of the beauty of speech, and very
much of the ease in understanding it, depends upon
our usage in this particular. To acquire it we must
practice it, and the articulating organs, particularly
the lips and tongue, must be taught to move quickly,
flexibly, easily, and exactly. We need that form of
physical culture which aims at normal development,
extending even to the lips and tongue.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE

(««7)

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE

THE following selections are suggested for prac-
tice. Read a line or a verse, or several verses
carefully, paying special attention to the Method-
of-Attack for closed consonants. Read the same
matter, paying attention to Method-of-Attack for
continuous sounds and for vowels. The student can
then combine his Methods-of- Attack and in reading
can exercise his knowledge in overcoming any diffi-
culties that might otherwise be presented. A very
good practice is to read aloud for ten minutes at a
time, first with special attention to the attack sug-
gested for closed consonants, ten minutes with at-
tention to Method-of-Attack for continuous sounds,
ten minutes with attention to Method-of-Attack for
vowels, then fifteen minutes paying special atten-
tion to Methods-of- Attack for all difficulties of utter-
ance.

One may read also such selections, practicing for
the benefits to be derived vocally. Never read
aloud for practice when the throat is sore or irritated.
A very good practice, and one that usually results
beneficially, is to read slowly and carefully for ten
minutes, keeping the teeth tightly closed, but exag-
gerating the movement of the lips. This exercise
should be always immediately followed by reading
ten minutes with the exaggeration of the jaws. The
object and purpose is to give greater flexibility to
the muscles of the mouth and ox^gaas of articulation.
• »— 19 (a89)

290 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

The student should read each line slowly and
carefolly with special attention to his enunciation,
using for each word his Method-of -Attack as di-
rected. An hour each day spent in this exercise
will prove highly beneficial to any sufferer, and will
serve to impress indelibly upon his mind the neces-
sity for carefulness. Having once thoroughly
learned Methods-of-Attack, it requires only the
thought of their application mentally in order to
gain freedom in enunciation physically, which truth
has been demonstrated to the writers in hundreds
of cases: —

THE STUTTERER'S COMPLAINT

A H ! THINK it not a slight calamity
'^^ To be denied free converse with my kind.
To be debarred from man's true attribute —
The proper, glorious privilege of speech.
Hast ever seen an eagle chain*d to earth?
A restless panther in his cage immured?
A swift trout by the wily fisher checked?
A wild bird hopeless strain its broken wing?
Hast ever felt, at the dark dead of night.
Some undefined and horrid incubus
Press down thy very soul, and paralyze
The limbs in their imaginary flight
Prom shadowy terrors in unhallowed sleep?
Hast ever known the sudden, icy chill
Of dreary disappointment, as it dashes
The sweet cup of anticipated bliss
From the parched lips of long-endtiring hope?

Then thou canst picture — aye, in sober truth,
In real, unexaggerated truth —

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 991

The constant, galling, festering chain that binds

Captive the mute interpreter of thought —

The seal of lead enstamp'd upon my lips —

The load of iron on my laboring chest —

The mockimg demon that at every step

Haunts me, and spurs me on to burst with silence!

Oh! 'tis a sore affliction to restrain.

Prom mere necessity, the glowing thought;

To feel the fluent cataract of speech

Check'd by some wintry spell, and frozen up,

Just as it's leaping from the precipice;

To be the butt of wordy, captious fools.

And see the sneering, self-complacent smile

Of victory on their lips, when I might prove

(But for some little word I dare not utter)

That innate truth is not a specious lie;

To hear foul slander blast an honor'd name.

Yet breathe no fact to drive the fiend away;

To mark neglected virtue in the dust.

Yet have no word to pity or console;

To feel just indignation swell my breast.

Yet know the fountain of my wrath is sealed;

To see my fellow-mortals hurrying on

Down the steep cliff of crime, down to perdition,

Yet have no voice to warn — no voice to win!

'Tis to be mortified in every point.

Baffled at every turn of life, for want

Of that most common privilege of man.

The merest drug of gorged society —

Words — windy words.

And is it not in truth
A poison'd sting in every social joy —
A thorn that rankles in the writhing flesh —
A drop of gall in each domestic sweet —
An irritating petty misery —
That I can never look on one I love,
And speak the fullness of my burning thoughts?
That I can never with unmingled joy
Meet a long-loved and long-expected friend.

CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

Because 1 feel, but cannot veot my feeling —

Because 1 know 1 ought bot innst not speak —

Because 1 mark his quiet impatient eye.

Striving in kindness to anticipate

Tbo word of welcome, strangled in its birth!

Is it not sorrow, while I truly love

Sweet soctAl converse, to be forced to shun

The happy circle, from a nervous sense.

An agonizing paignant consciousness,

That I must stand aloof, nor mingle with

The wise and good in rational argutaent.

The young in brilliaat quickness of reply.

Friendship's ingenuous interchange of miad.

Affection's open-hearted sympathies.

But feel myself an isolated being,

A very wilderness of widow'd thought I

Aye, 'tis a bitter thing — and not less bitter

Because it is not reckoned in the ills,

«Tbe thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.*

Vet the full ocean is but countless drops.

And misery is an aggregate of tears:

And life, replete with small annoyances.

Is but one long, protracted scene of sorrow.

I scarce would wonder if a godless man

(I name not him whose hope is heavenward),

A man, whom lying vanities hath scath'd

And harden'd from all fear — if such a. one

By this tyrannical Argus goaded on

Were to bo weary of his very life.

And daily, hotirly, foiled in social converse,

By the slow simmering of disappointment

Become a sour'd and apathetic being.

Were to feel rapture at the approach of death,

And long for his dark hope — annitiilation.

— M. F. TuppER.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 293

THE ANGEL'S REQUEST

giTFOR. the throne of Heaven's King the Guaxdian Angel

*^ came.

*A boon, great God, of Thy dear love and bounty now I

claim.*
With covered face and feet he spoke, while o'er his breast

there lay
The folded wings in readiness to bear the gift away.

Jehovah spoke: *What wonkiest thon?* The eager Angel
said:

^Behold the little one I guard — I would that on his head

Thy choicest blessing might flow down, that he may be in-
deed

A benefactor to his race — their minister in need.*

^The boon is thine. Bestow it now, this precious thing yon

crave.*
The Gracious Hand a halting tongue unto the angel gave.
With anxious thought he went his way to the appointed task;
*How can this gift confer on him the blessing that I ask?*

Again he came before the King and prayed: *0 Grod, re-
move

That gift so foolishly I sought in pity and in love.

Had I but left the child alone 'twould have been better so;

I sought to bless beyond them all, and I have worked his
woe.

* For I have guarded all his youth, and now I see him stand
At manhood's door — the peer of all — yet marked as by a

brand
To be apart from those he loves, silent and sad among
The gayest crowd. I ask Thee now to cure this stamm'ring

tongue.*

otiii wniie tne (juardian Angel prayed
** Dear Lord of heav'n and earth r

tong"ue from rae.*>
With quiv'ring wings the Ang^l st<

stant flight.
In haste to bear the kneeling one the ]

Yearning and anxiously he stood whi
Over the suppliant tenderly; but yet i
And still the earnest prayer came, anc
*Dear Lord, to conquer this defect, g
need.*

Then swiftly on his journey sent sped i
leaden with healing gifts he came with ;
Into that soul he poured the power

•Strive,
Arise, and work, subdue and win — tl

rive.*

He rose and strove. He had the P<

mastery ;
By firm control o'er every part he woo
No longer bound, he stood in might to
To aU afflicted stamm'ring ones a help

Thev camA tn K4*« ^^^

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 295

THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood.

And every loved spot which my infancy knew;
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it.

The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell;
The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it,

And e'en the rude bucket which hung in the well.
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket.

The moss-covered bucket which hung in the welL

That mosa-oovered vessel I hail as a treasure.

For often at noon, when returned from the field,
I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure.

The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
How ardent I seized it with hands that were glowing.

How quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell!
Then soon with the emblem of truth overflowing.

And dripping with coolness, it rose from the weU,
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket.

The moss-covered bucket arose from the weU.

How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it.

As poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips!
Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it.

Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips;
And now, far removed from the loved situation.

The tear of regret will intrusively swell.
As fancy reverts to my father's plantation.

And sighs for the bucket whi<^ hangs in the weU,
The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,

The moss-oovered bucket which hangs in the welL

— Samubl Woodwoeth.

CULTIVATION OF THE VOICB

THE LAST HYMN

THS Sabbath-day was ending in a village by the sea.
The uttered benedictioo touched the people teuderly.
And tbey rose to face the sunset in the glowing, lighted west.
And then hastened to their dwellings for God's blessed boon

But they looked

there ;
A fierce spirit moved above thi

the waters, and a storm was raging
the wild sjatit of ths |

And it lashed and shook and tore them, till tbey thoudered. I

groaned, and boomed;
And alas for any vessel in their yawning gulfs entombed!

Very aniious were the people on that rocky coast of Wales <
Lest the dawns of coming morrows should be telling awful |

tales.
When the sea had spent its passion and should cast upon {

the shore
Bits of wreck aod swollen victims, as it had done heretofore

With the rough winds blowiog round her, a brave woman <

strained her eyes.
And she saw alottg the billows a large vessel fall and rise;
O. it did not need a prophet to tell what the and must be!
For no ship could ride in safety near that shore on such a j

Then the pitying people hurried from their homes ,

thronged the beach.
O. for power to cross the waters and the perishing to reach! j
Helpless hands were wrung for sorrow, tender hearts grew i

cold with dread.
And the ship urged by the tempest, to the fatal rock-sbora I

8BLBCTIONS FOR PRACTICB 997

* She has parted in the middle! O, the half of her goes down!
God have mercy! Is His heaven far to seek for those who

drown ?»
Lo! when next the white, shocked faces looked with terror

on the sea,
Only one last clinging figure on a spar was seen to be.

Nearer to the trembling watchers came the wreck tossed by

the wave,
And the man still clung and floated, though no power on

earth could save.

* Could we send him a short message? Here's a trumpet

Shout away!*
'Twas the preacher's hand that took it, and he wondered
what to say.

Any memory of his sermon? Firstly? secondly? Ah no!
There was but one thing to utter in the awful hour of woe;
So he shouted through the trumpet: *Look to Jesus! Can

you hear?*
And *Aye, aye, sir!* rang the answer o'er the waters loud

and clear.

Then they listened. * He Is singing, < Jesus, lover of my soul 1 > *
And the winds brought back the echo, ^^ While the nearer

waters roU;*
Strange, indeed, it was to hear him, ^Till the storm of life

is past,*
Singing bravely from the waters, * O, receive my soul at last! *

He codd have no other refuge. * Hangs my helpless soal

on Thee;
Leave, ah, leave me not* The singer dropped at last into

the sea;
And the watchers, looking homeward through their eyes

with tears made dim,
Said : « He passed to be with Jesus in the singing of that

hymn.*

— Ma&iannb Farminghaii.

CULTIVATION OP THB VOKB

THE MONEYLESS MAN

13 THEBE DO sccTet place on the face of the earth.
Where charity dwelleth. wbere virtue hath birth ?
Where bosoms in mercy and kiodness shall heave.
And the poor and the wretched shall "ask and receive?"
Is Ihero no place on earth where a knoclc from the poor
Will bring a Idnd aagel to open the door?
Ah! search the wide world wherever yon can.
There is no open door for a moneyless man!

Go, look in your hall, where the chandelier's light
Drives off with its splendor the darkness of night.
Where the rich hang^ing velvet in shadowy fold.
Sweeps gracefully dovfn with its trimming of gold.
And the rairrora of silver take up and renew,
In long lighted vistas the wildering view —
Go there in your patches, and tiad if you can.
A welcoming smile for the moneyless man!

Go. look in yon church of the cloud-reaching spir«,
Which gives back to the sun his same look of red firs.
Where the arches and colomns are gorgeous within,
And the walls seem as pure as a soul without sin;
Go down the long aisle — see the rich and the great,
In the pomp and the pride of their worldly estate —
Walk down in your patches, and find, if you can.
Who opens a pew to a moneyless man.

Go, look on yon judge in the dark, flowing gown.
With the scales wherein law weigheth equity down.
Where he frowns on the weak and smiles on the strong,
And punishes right where he justilies wrong
Where jurors their lips on the Bible have lai
To render a verdict they've already made;
Go, there in the conrl-room. and find if you i
Any law for the cause of a moneyless raanl

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 299

Go, look in the banks where mammon has told
His hundreds and thousands of silver and gold,
Where safe from the hand of the starving and poor,
Lays pile upon pile of the glittering ore;
Walk up to the counter — and there you may stay
Till your limbs grow old and your hair turns gray,
And you'll find at the banks no one of the clan
With money to loan to a moneyless man!

Then go to your hovel; no raven has fed

The wife who has suffered too long for her bread;

Kneel down on the pallet and kiss the death frost

From the lips of the angel your poverty lost;

Then turn in your agony upward to God,

And bless while it smites you, the chastening rod.

And youll find at the end of your little life's span.

There's a welcome above for a moneyless man!

— Hen»y T. Stanton.

COME, YE DISCONSOLATE

COME, ye disconsolate, where'er you languish.
Come, at God's altar fervently kneel ;
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish.
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal!

Joy of the desolate, Light of the straying,

Hope when all others die, fadeless and pure,
Here speaks the Comforter, in God's name saying,

* Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure!*

Go, ask the infidel what boon he brings us.

What charm for aching hearts he can reveal
Sweet as that heavenly promise Hope sings us:

* Earth has no sorrows that God cannot heal!*

— Thomas Moorx.

300 CX7LTIVATION OP THB VOICE

CURFEW MUST NOT RING TO-NIGHT

pNGLAND's mm was slowlj setting o'er the hills so far

*^ away.

Filling all the land with beauty at the close of one sad day;

And the last rays kissed the forehead of a man and maiden
fair;

He with step so slow and weakened, she with sonny, float-
ing hair;

He with sad bowed head and thoughtful she with lips so

cold and white,
Struggling to keep back the murmur, ^Curfew must not

ring to-night*
« Sexton,* Bessie's white lips faltered, pointing to the prison

old.
With its walls so dark and gloomy — walls so dark and

damp and cold —

^I've a lover in that prison, doomed this very night to die
At the ringing of the curfew, and no earthly help is nigh.
Cromwell will not come till sunset,* and her face grew

strangely white.
As she spoke in husky whispers: << Curfew must not ring

to-night.*

•Bessie,* calmly spoke the sexton — every word pierced her

young heart
Like a thousand gleaming arrows, like a deadly poisoned

dart —
<<Long, long years I've rung the curfew from that gloomy

shadowed tower.
Every evening, just at sunset, it has told the twilight hour.

<*! have done my duty ever, tried to do it just and right;
Now I*m old I will not miss it; g^rl, the curfew rings to-
night ! *

8BLBCTIONS FOR PRACTICB 301

Wild her eyeM and pale her features, stem and white har

thoughtful brow.
And within her heart's deep center, Bessie made a solemn

vow.

She had listened while the judges read, without a tear or

sigh,
*At the ringing of the curfew Basil Underwood must die.*
And her breath came fast and faster, and her eyes grew

large and bright —
One low murmur, scarcely spoken — * Curfew must not ring

to-night !»

She with light step bounded forward, sprang within the old
church door,

Left the old man coming slowly paths he'd trod so oft be-
fore;

Not one moment paused the maiden, but with cheek and
brow aglow.

Staggered up the gloomy tower, where the bell swtmg £0
and fro.

Then she climbed the slimy ladder, dark, without one ray

of light.
Upward still, her pale lips saying: << Curfew shall not ring

to-night*
She has reached the topmost ladder, o'er her hangs the

great dark beU,
And the awful gloom beneath her, like the pathway down

to helL

See, the ponderous tongue is swinging, 'tis the hour of cur-
few now,

And the sight has chilled her bosom, stopped her breath
and paled her brow.

Shall she let it ring? No, never! her eyes flash with sudden
light

As she springs and grasps it firmly— * Curfew shall not
ring to-night !»

302

CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

Out she swung, far out, tbe city seemed a tiny specie beloiV;.!
There, 'twixt heaven and earth suspended, as tbe bell smiqg 1

to mtd fro;
And the half-deaf Geston ringing (yean he had not beard 1

the bell),
And he thought the twilight curfew rang yonng Basil's J

funeral knelL

Still the maiden clinging firmly, cheek and brow so pals 1

and wbite.
Stilled her frightened heart's wild beating — "Curfew shall J

not ring to-night!"
It wiis o'er — the bell ceased swaying, and the maidtoa

stepped oace more
Firmly ou the damp old ladder, where for hundred )

Human foot had not been planted; and what she this n

had done
Shuuld be told in long years after. As the rays of settiq^l

Light the sicy with mellow beauty, aged sires vith beads

Tell their children why the curfew did not ring that i
sad night.

O'er the distant hills came Cromwell Bessie saw him, aad'^

her brow.
Lately white with sickening terror, glows with suddeB I

At his feet she told her story, showed her hands all brntaaAfl

and torn ;
And her sweet young face so haggard, with a look i

Touched his heart with sudden jrfty — lit his eyee

misty light;
"Go, your lover lives!" cried Cromwell; "curfew shall i

ring to-night."

— Rosa Haktwick Thorpe

8BLBCTIONS FOR PRACTICE 303

THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH

tfUMM, 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.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long.

His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat.

He earns whate'er he can.
And looks the whole world in the face.

For he owes not any man.

Week-in, week-out, from mom tin night.
You can hear his bellows blow;

You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,

Like a sexton ringing the village bell.
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school

Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge.

And hear the bellows roar.
And catch the burning sparks that fly

Like chaff from a threshing floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church,

And sits among his hoyn;
He hears the parson pray luid preach.

He hears his daughter's voice
Singing in the village chohr.

And h makes his heart rejoioo.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 305

There 's something kind o' hearty-like abont the atmosphere
When the heat of summer *s over and the cooling fall is

here.
Of coarse we miss the flowers and the blossoms on the

trees.
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds an' buzsin' of the

bees;
But the air 's so appetizin', and the landscape through the

base
Of a crisp and sunny momin' of the early autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock.
When the frost is 00 the punkin and the fodder 's in the

shock.

The husty, rusty rustle of the tassels of the com.

And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the

mom;
The stubble in the furries — kind o' lonesome-like but stiU,
A preachin' sermons to us of the bams they growed to fill;
The straw-stack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The bosses in their stall below, the clover overhead, —
O, it sets my heart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock.
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder 's in the

shock.

Then your apples all is gathered, and the ones a feller

keeps
Is poured around the cellar-floor, in red and yellow heaps.
And your cider-makin' 's over and your women-folks is

through
With their mince and apple-butter, and their souse and

sausage too;
I don't know how to tell it — but if sich a thing could be
As the angels want in* boardin\ and the/d call around

on me,
I'd want to 'commodate *em. all the whole endurin' flock,
When the frost is on the ptmkin and the fodder 's in the

shock.

— James Whitcomb Riliy.

So6 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICB

THE OLD ARM-CHAIR

I LOTS it, I love h, and who shall dare
To chide me for loving that old arm-chair?
r^a treasured it long as a sainted prise,
Vv% bedew e d it with tears, and embalmed it with siglis;
Tis booad bjr a thousand bands to my heart;
Not a tie will break, not a Unk will start.
Would ye learn the spell ? A mother sat there.
And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair.

In childhood's hour I lingered near

The hallowM seat with listening ear;

And gentle words that mother would give,

To fit me to die and teach me to live.

She told me shame would never betide,

With tmth for my creed, and God for my guide;

She taught me to lisp my earliest prayer.

As I knelt beside that old arm-chair.

I sat and watched her many a day.

When her eye grew dim and her locks were gray.

And I almost worshiped her when she smiled.

And turned from her Bible to bless her chiUL

Years rolled on, but the last one sped;

My idol was shattered, my earth star fled;

I learned how much the heart can bear,

When I saw her die in that old arm-chair.

Tis past! 'tis past! but I gase on it now
With quivering breath and throbbing brow;
'Twas there she nursed me, 'twas there she died.
And memory flows like lava-tide.
Say it is foUy, and deem me weak.
While the scalding drops start down my cheek;
But I love it, I love it, and cannot tear
My soul from a mother's old arm-chair.

— Eliza Cook.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 307

IF WE KNEW

IF wx knew the woe and heartache
Waiting for us down the road;
If our lips could taste the wormwood.

If our backs could feel the load, —
Would we waste the day in wishing

For a time that ne'er can be?
Would we wait with such impatience
For our ship to come from sea?

If we knew the baby-fingers

Pressed against the window-pane
Would be cold and stiff to-morrow.

Never trouble us again,
Would the bright eyes of our darling

Catch the frown upon our brow?
Would the print of rosy fingers

Vex us then as they do now?

Ah! these little ice-cold fingers!

How they point our memories back
To the hasty words and actions

Strewn along our backward track!
How these litUe hands remind us,

As in snowy grace they lie.
Not to scatter thorns, but roses.

For our reaping by and by.

Strange we never prize the music

Till the sweet- voiced bird has flown;
Strange that we should slight the violets

Till the lovely flowers are gone;
Strange that summer skies and sunshine

Never seem one-half so fair
As when winter's snowy pinions

Shake their white down in the air.

3o8 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

Let QS gather up the sunbeams

Lying all around our path;
Let us keep the wheat and roses,

Casting out the thorns and chaff;
Let us find our sweetest comfort

In the blessings of to-day,
With the patient hand removing

AU the briers from our way.

THE PATRIOT'S PASSWORD

[On the ftchievemeiit of Arnold de Winkelried at the battle of Sempach,
la whkh the Swiaa secured the freedom of their countiy against the
power of Auatria, in the fourteenth century.]

«llilAKB way for liberty!^ he cried, —
^^^ Made way for liberty, and died.
In arms the Austrian phalanx stood,
A living wall, a human wood;
A wall, where every conscious stone
Seemed to its kindred thousands grown,
A rampart all assaults to bear,
TiU time to dust their frames should wear;
A wood, like that enchanted grove
In which with friends Rinaldo strove,
Where every silent tree possessed
A spirit imprisoned in its breast,
Which the first stroke of coming strife
Might startle into hideous life;
So still, so dense, the Austrians stood,
A living wall, a human wood.
Impreg^nable their front appears.
All horrent with projected spears,
Whose polished points before them shine.
Prom fiank to flank, one brilliant line,
Bright as the breakers' splendors run
Along the billows to the sun.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 309

Opposed to these, a hovering band

Contended for their fatherland;

Peasants, whose new-fonnd strength had broke

For manly necks the ignoble yoke.

And beat their fetters into swords.

On equal terms to fight their lords;

And what insurgent rage had gained.

In many a mortal fray maintained.

Marshaled once more, at Freedom's caU,

They canie to conquer or to fall,

Where he who conquered, he who fell,

Was deemed a dead, a living Tell;

Such virtue had that patriot breathed.

So to the soil his soul bequeathed.

That wheresoe'er his arrows flew.

Heroes in his own likeness grew.

And warriors sprang from every sod

Which his awakening footstep trod.

And now the work of life and death

Hung on the passing of a breath;

The fire of conflict burned within.

The battle trembled to begin;

Yet while the Austrians held their groond.

Point for assault was nowhere found;

Where'er the impatient Switzers gazed.

The unbroken line of lances blazed;

That line 'twere suicide to meet

And perish at their tjrrants' feet

How could they rest within their graves

To leave their homes the haunts of slaves?

Would they not feel their children tread.

With clanking chains, above their head ?

It must not be; this day, this hour

Annihilates the invader's power;

All Switzerland is in the field.

She will not fly, she cannot yield.

She must not fall; her better fate

Here gives her an immortal date.

Few were the numbers she could boast.

Yet every freeman was a host,

31 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

And felt as 'twere a secret known.

That one should turn the scale alone.

While each unto himself was he

On whose sole arm hung victory.

It did depend on one, indeed;

Behold him! Arnold Winkelried!

There sounds not to the trump of fame

The echo of a nobler name.

Unmarked he stood amid the throng.

In rumination deep and long.

Tin you might see, with sudden grace,

The very thought come o'er his face.

And by the motion of his form.

Anticipate the bursting storm.

And by the uplifting of his brow.

Tell where the bolt would strike, and how.

But 'twas no sooner thought than done;

The field was in a moment won.

^Make way for liberty !» he cried;

Then ran, with arms extended wide.

As if his dearest friend to clasp;

Ten spears he swept within his grasp;

^Make way for liberty!'^ he cried;

Their keen points crossed from side to tide;

He bowed amidst them, like a tree.

And thus made way for liberty.

Swift to the breach his comrades fly;

^Make way for liberty!* they cry.

And through the Austrian phalanx dart.

As rushed the spears through Arnold's heart.

While, instantaneous as his fall,

Rout, ruin, panic, seized them alL

An earthquake could not overflow

A city with a surer blow;

Thus Switzerland again was free;

Thus death made way for liberty.

— James Montgomery.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 311

THE DESERTED VILLAGE

SwxBT Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,
Where health and plenty cheered the laboring swain,
Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid,
And parting summer's lingering bloom delayed;
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease.
Seats of my youth, when every sport could please,
How often have I loitered o'er thy green.
Where humble happiness endeared each scene!
How often have I paused on every charm,
The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm.
The never-failing brook, the busy mill.
The decent church that topped the neighboring hill.
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade.
For talking age and whispering lovers made!
How often have I blessed the coming day.
When toil, remitting, lent its turn to play!
And all the village train, from labor free.
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree.
While many a pastime circled in the shade.
The yotmg contending, as the old surveyed.
And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground.
And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;
And still, as each repeated pleasure tired,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired;
The dancing pair that simply sought renown
By holding out to tire each other down ;
The swain mistrustless of his smutted face
While secret laughter tittered round the place;
The bashful maiden's sidelong looks of love,
The matron's glance that would those looks reprove:
These were thy charms, sweet village ! Sports like these,
With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please;
These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed;
These were thy charms; but all thy charms are fled;
Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn.
Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;

319 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

Amidit thy twwen the t3rraiit's hand is seen,

Aad dfliolation saddens all thy green.

One only master grasps the whole domain.

And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain.

No more thy glassy brook reflects the day.

Bat choked with sedges works its weedy way;

Along thy glades, a solitary gnest,

The hoUow-soanding bittern guards its nest;

Amidst thy desert walks the lap-wing flies.

And tires their echoes with unvaried cries;

Sank are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all,

And the long grass o*ertops the moldering wall;

And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand,

Par, far away, thy children leave the land.

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey.

Where wealth accumulates and men decay;

Princes and lords may flourish or may fade;

A breath can make them, as a breath has made;

But a bold peasantry, their country's pride.

When once destroyed, can never be supplied.

A time there was, ere England's griefs began.

When every rood of g^und maintained its man;

Por him light labor spread her wholesome store.

Just gave what life required, but gave no more;

His best companions, innocence and health,

And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.

But times are altered; trade's unfeeling train

Usurp the land, and dispossess the swain;

Along the lawn where scattered hamlets rose.

Unwieldy wealth and cumbrous pomp repose,

And every want to luxury allied.

And every pang that folly pays to pride.

Those gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom,

Those calm desires that asked but little room,

Those healthful sports that graced the peaceful scene.

Lived in each look and brightened all the green,

These, far departing, seek a kinder shore,

And rural mirth and manners are no more.

Sweet Auburn! parent of the blissful hour.

Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's power.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 313

Here, as I take my solitary rounds
Amidst thy tangled walks and ruined grounds,
And, many a year elapsed, return to view
Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew,
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.
In all my wanderings round this world of care.
In all my griefs — and God has given my share —
I still had hopes my latest hours to crown.
Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down,
To husband out life's taper at the close.
And keep the flame from wasting, by repose.
I still had hope, for pride attends us still,
Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill;
Around my fire an evening group to draw,
And tell of all I felt, and all I saw;
And, as a hare, whom hoimds and horns pursue.
Pants to the place from whence at first she flew,
I still had hopes, my long vexations past.
Here to return, and die at home at last
O blessed retirement, friend to life's decline.
Retreats from care, that never must be mine!
How happy he who crowns, in shades like these,
A youth of labor with an age of ease;
Who quits a world where strong temptations try.
And, since *tis hard to combat, learns to fly;
For him no wretches, bom to work and weep,
Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep;
No surly porter stands in guilty state.
To spurn imploring famine from the gate;
But on he moves, to meet his latter end.
Angels around befriending virtue's friend.
Bends to the grave with unperceived decay,
While resignation gently shapes the way;
And, all his prospects brightening at the last.
His heaven commences ere the world be passed.
Sweet was the sotmd, when oft at evening's close
Up yonder hill the village murmur rose.
There, as I passed with careless step and slow,
The mingling notes came softened from below;

314 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

Tte swain responsive as the milkmaid song.

Ths sober herd that lowed to meet their yovaig^

The ttoisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool,

The plajrfttl children just let loose from school.

The watch-dog's voice, that bayed the whispering wind.

And the load laugh that spoke the vacant mind;

These all in sweet confusion sought the shade.

And filled each pause the nightingale had made.

Bat now the sounds of population fail,

No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale,

No busy steps the grass-grown footway tread.

For all the blooming flush of life is fled;

All but yon widowed, solitary thing,

That feebly bends beside the plashy spring;

She, wretched matron, forced in age, for bread.

To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread.

To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn,

To seek her nightly shed, and weep till mom;

She only left of all the harmless train,

The sad historian of the pensive plain!

Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled,

And still where many a garden flower g^ws wild.

There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose.

The village preacher's modest mansion rose.

A man he was to all the country dear.

And passing rich on forty pounds a year.

Remote from towns he ran his godly race,

Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place,

Unpracticed he to fawn, or seek for power,

By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour;

Par other aims his heart had learned to prize,

More skilled to raise the wretched, than to rise.

His house was known to all the vagrant train.

Ha chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain;

The long-remembered beggar was his guest.

Whose beard, descending, swept his aged breast;

The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud,

Claimed kindred there, and had his claim allowed;

The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay.

Sat by his fire, and talked the night away.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 315

Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done,

Shouldered his crutch and showed how fields were won.

Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow.

And quite forg^ot their vices in their woe;

Careless their merits or their faults to scan,

His pity gave ere charity began.

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride,

And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side;

But in his duty prompt, at every call.

He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all;

And, as a bird each fond endearment tries

To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies.

He tried each art, reproved each dull delay.

Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.

Beside the bed where parting life was laid,

And sorrow, guilt, and pain by turns dismayed,

The reverend champion stood; at his control.

Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul;

Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise.

And his last faltering accents whispered praise.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace,

His looks adorned the venerable place;

Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway.

And fools who came to scoff remained to pray.

The service past, around the pious man.

With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran;

Even children followed, with endearing wile.

And plucked his gown, to share the good man's smile.

His ready smile a parent's warmth expressed.

Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distressed;

To them his heart, his love, his griefs, were given.

But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven.

As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form.

Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,

Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread.

Eternal sunshine settles on its head.

Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the ¥^y,

With blossomed furze unprofltably gay.

There, in his noisy mansion skilled to rule.

The village master taught his little school.

i^onveyed ttie dismal tidings
Yet he was kind, or if sever
The love he tore t» leaminj
The village all declared bow
'TwM certain bo could write
Lands b« cotild meksure, ten
And e'en the stcny ran tlut
In arguing, too, the parson o
For e'en ttaoagh vanquished.
While words of learned lengt
Amaied the gailng msUca n
And still thejr gazed, and stil
That one small head could a
But put b all bis fame; the
Where many a time be trlan
Near yonder thorn, that lifts
Where once the sign-post can
Now lies that house where nt
Where gray-beard mirth and
Where village statesmen talto
And news mnch older than tl
Imagination fondly stoops to i
The parlor splendors c£ that f
The whitewashed wall, the olt
The varnished clock that cUcl
The chest contrived a double

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 3T7

Vain transitory splendors i conld not all
Reprieve the tottering mansion from its fall?
Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more impart
An hour's importance to the poor man's heart;
Thither no more the peasant shall repair,
To sweet oblivion of his daily care;
No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale,
No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail;
No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear,
Relax his ponderous strength and lean to hear;
The host himself no longer shall be found
Careful to see the mantling bliss go round;
Nor the coy maid, half-willing to be prest.
Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest.
Yes, let the rich deride, the proud disdain.
These simple blessings of the lowly train;
To me more dear, congenial to my heart.
One native charm, than all the gloss of art
Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play,
The soul adopts, and owns their first-bom sway;
Lightly they frolic o*er the vacant mind,
Unen^ed, immolested, nnoonfined.
But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade.
With all the freaks of wanton wealth arrayed.
In these, ere trifiers half their wish obtain.
The toiling pleasure sickens into pain.
And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy.
The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy.
Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey
The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay,
*Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand
Between a splendid and a happy land.
Proud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore.
And shouting Polly hails them from her shore;
Hoards even beyond the miser's wish abound.
And rich men flock from all the world around.
Yet count our gains: this wealth is but a name
lliat leaves our useful products still the same.
Not so the loss. The man of wealth and pride
Takes up a space that many poor supplied ;

3X8 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

SjMoe for his lake, his park's extended boandfl.

Space for his horse, his equipage, and hounds;

The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth.

Has robbed the neighboring fields of half their growCh;

His seat, where solitary spots are seen.

Indignant spurns the cottage from the green;

Around the world each needful product flies.

For all the luxuries the world supplies;

While thus the land, adorned for pleasure all.

In barren splendor, feebly waits the falL

As some fair female, unadorned and plain,

Secure to please while youth confirms her relg^.

Slights every borrowed charm that dress supplies.

Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes;

But when those charms are past, for charms are frail«

When time advances, and when lovers fail.

She then shines forth, solicitous to bless.

In all the glaring impotence of dress.

Thus fares the land, by luxury betrayed;

In nature's simplest charms at first arrayed.

But verging to decline, its splendors rise,

Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise;

While scourged by famine from the smiling land.

The mournful peasant leads his humble band;

And while he sinks, without one arm to save.

The country blooms, a garden and a grave.

Where, then, ah! where shall poverty reside.

To 'scape the pressure of contiguous pride?

If to some common's fenceless limits strayed.

He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade.

Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide,

And even the bare-worn common is denied.

If to the city sped, what waits him there?

To see profusion that he must not share;

To see ten thousand baleful arts combined

To pamper luxury, and thin mankind;

To see each joy the sons of pleasure know

Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe,

Here, while the courtier glitters in brocade.

There the pale artist plies the sickly trade;

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 319

Here while the proud their long-drawn pomps display,

There the black gibbet glooms beside the way.

The dome where pleasure holds her midnight reig^,

Here, richly decked, admits the gorgeous train.

Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square,

The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare;

Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy!

Sure these denote one universal joy!

Are these thy serious thoughts ? Ah, turn thine eyes

Where the poor houseless, shivering female lies;

She once perhaps, in village plenty blessed.

Has wept at tales of innocence distressed;

Her modest looks the cottage might adorn.

Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn;

Now lost to all, her friends, her virtue fled,

Near her betrayer's door she lays her head.

And pinched with cold, and shrinking from the shower.

With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour

When, idly first, ambitious of the town.

She left her wheel, and robes of country brown.

Do thine, sweet Auburn — thine the loveliest train —

Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ?

E'en now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led.

At proud men's doors they ask a little bread.

Ah, no! to distant climes, a dreary scene.

Where half the convex world intrudes between,

Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they g^,

Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe.

Par different there from all that charmed before.

The various terrors of that horrid shore:

Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray.

And fiercely shed intolerable day;

Those matted woods where birds forget to sing.

But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling;

Those poisonous fields with rank luxuriance crowned.

Where the dark scorpion gathers death around.

Where at each step the stranger fears to wake

The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake;

Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey.

And savage men more murderous still than they;

(O CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

Wbile oft in whirls tbv wild toriMdo flies.
Mingling the ravaged \a.ndac*pe with the sides;
Far different these from every former scene;
The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green,
The breeiy covert of the warbling grove.
That only sheltered thefts of harmless love-
Good Heaven f what sorrows gloomed that parting day.
That called them from their native walks away;
When the poor exiles, every pleasure past.
Hung round their bowers, and fondly looked their last.
And took a long farewell, and wished in vain
For seafci like these beyond the western main;
And shuddering still to face the distaat deep.
Returned and wept; and still returned to weep.
The good old sire the first prepared to go
To new found worlds, and wept for others* woe.
But for himself, in conscious virtue brave.
He only wished for worlds beyond the grave;
His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears.
The fond companion of his helpless years.
Silent, went nert, neglectful of her charms,
And left a lover's for a father's arms;
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,
And blessed the cot where every pleasure rose,
Aud kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear.
And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear.
Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief
In all the silent manliness of grief.
O lusury! thou cursed by heaven's decree.
How ill eichanged are things like these for thee!
How do thy potions, with insidious joy,
Difluse their pleasures only to destroy!
Kingdoms by thee, to sickly greatness grown.
Boast of a florid vigor not their own;
At every draft more large and large they grow,
A bloated mass of rank, unwieldy woo;
Till sapped their strength, and every part unsonnd,
Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round.
Even now the devastation is begun,
And half the business of destmctiaa doae;

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 32 1

Even now, methinks, at pondering here I stand,

I see the mral virtues leave the land;

Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail.

That idly waiting flaps with every gale,

Downward they move, a melancholy band.

Pass from the shore and darken all the strand;

Contented toil, and hospitable care,

And kind connubial tenderness are there.

And piety with wishes placed above.

And steady loyalty, and faithful love.

And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid,

Still first to fly when sensual joys invade.

Unfit in these degenerate times of shame

To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame;

Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried.

My shame in crowds, my solitary pride,

Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe.

That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so,

Thou guide by which the nobler arts excel.

Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well!

Farewell! — and oh! where'er thy voice be tried,

On Tornea's cliffs, or Pambamarca's side, —

Whether where equinoctial fervors glow;

And winter wraps the polar world in snow, —

Still let thy voice, prevailing over time.

Redress the rigors of the inclement clime.

Aid slighted truth; with thy persuasive strain

Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain;

Teach him that states of native strength possessed —

Though very poor — may still be very blessed;

That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay.

As ocean sweeps the labored mole away;

While self-dependent power can time defy.

As rocks resist the billows and the sky.

— OuvBR Goldsmith.

wratli are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful ligt

His truth is mi

I have Men him hi the watch-

They have bnllded him an alta

damps;
I can read his lighteons sentet

lamps i

Hia day is man

I have read a fiery gospel, writ i:
*As ye deal with my oontemnc

Bhall deal»:
Let the Hero, bom of woman, <

heel.

Since God is ma

He has sotmded forth the tramp

treat;
He is sifting out the hearts of

seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 323

THE LAST DAYS OP HERCULANEUM

'TniERK was a man,

*^ A Roman soldier, for some daring deed
That trespassed on the laws, in dtmgeon low
Chained down. His was a noble spirit, rongh,
But generous, and brave, and kind.

He had a son: it was a rosy boy,

A little, faithful copy of his sire

In face and gesture. From infancy the child

Had been his father's solace and his care.

Every sport
The father shared and heightened. But at length
The rigorous law had grasped him, and condemned
To fetters and to darkness.

The captive's lot
He felt in all its bitterness; the walls
Of his deep dungeon answer'd many a sigh
And heart-heaved g^oan. His tale was known, and

touched
His jailer with compassion; and the boy,
Thenceforth a frequent visitor, beguiled
His father's lingering hours, and brought a balm
With his loved presence, that in every wotmd
Dropped healing.

But in this terrific hour
He was a poisoned arrow in the breast
Where he had been a cure. With earliest mom
Of that first day of darkness and amaze.
He came. The iron door was closed — for them
Never to open more! The day, the night.
Dragged slowly by; nor did they know the fate
Impending o'er the city.

The dangers of their stat

On
Tbe fettered soldier sank.
ListeDed to the fearful so
To the great gods he bre.
To calm himself, and lose
His uBdess terrors. Bnt
His body burned with fev
Clanked loud, although he
Groaiwd UDimagioable tht
Feaifnl and ominous, aros<
Like tbe sad meanings of
In the blank midnight.

Dee]
Hia blood that borned befi
Came o'er him; then, anon
Shot through his veins, N
And shivered as in fear; n
Ah though he heard the be
And longed to cope with 6
A troubled, dreamy sleepL
Never to waken more! Hi
But tenible his agonv.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 325

Dying away npon the dazzled eye,
In darkening, quivering tints, as stunning sound
Dies, throbbing, ringing in the ear. Silence,
And blackest darkness!

With intensest awe
The soldier's frame was filled; and many a thought
Of strange foreboding hurried through his mind.
As underneath he felt the fevered earth
Jarring and lifting, and the massive walls
Heard harshly grate and strain; yet knew he not,
While evils undefined and yet to come
Glanced through his thoughts, what deep and cureless

wound
Fate had already given.

Where, man of woe!
Where, wretched father, is thy boy ? Thou call'st
His name in vain: he cannot answer thee.

Loudly the father called upon his child:

No voice replied. Trembling and anxiously

He searched their couch of straw ; with headlong haste

Trod round his stinted limits, and low bent,

Groped darkling on the earth: no child was there.

Again he called; again, at farthest stretch

Of his accursed fetters, till the blood

Seemed bursting from his ears, and from his eyes

Fire flashed ; he strained, with arm extended far.

And fingers widely spread, greedy to touch

Though but his idol's garment

Useless toil!
Yet still renewed; still round and round he goes.
And strains, and snatches, and with dreadful cries
Calls on his boy. Mad frenzy fires him now:
He plants against the wall his feet; his chain
Grasps; tugs with giant strength to force away
The deep-driven staple; yells and shrieks with rage;
And, like a desert lion in the snare.

PoinU out the lightniag's t

The i
And «11 his lory fled ; tt des
Th»t iiutant on him; speed
And, with a look that oevei
Intensely on the corse. Th
Were n<A yet dosed; and n
The wonted anllle rMurned.

The father stands; no tear j
The thnnden beUow, but he
The ground lifts lilce a aea,-
The strong walls grind and
Takes shapes like babbles tc
Seel he looks op and smiles
Is happiness. Yet could out
Be given, 'twere still a sweei

It wiU be given. Look! bo^
At every swell, nearer and si
Moves toward his father's oa
Once he has toudied his gar
Lightens with love, and hooe

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 337

And death came soon, and swift.
And panglees. The hnge pile sank down at once
Into the opening earth. Walls — arches — roof —
And deep fonndation-stones — all — mingling — fell!

— Edwin Athbrton.

ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME

ROCK of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee!
Let the water and the blood
From thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Cleanse me from its guilt and power.

Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill thy law's demands;
Could my zeal no respite know.
Could my tears forever flow.
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and thou alone.

Nothing in my hand I bring;
Simply to thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to thee for dress;
Helpless, look to thee for grace;
Foul, I to the Fountain fly;
Wash me. Saviour, or I die!

While I draw this fleeting breath.
When my eye-strings break in death.
When I soar through tracts unknown.
See thee on thy judgment throne.
Rock of Ag^, cleft for me.
Let me hide myself in thee!

— Augustus Montaoub Tonjunr.

3^8 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICB

ROCK ME TO SLEEP

BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time in yoor fliglity
Make me a child again, just for to-nightl
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart, as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smoothe the few silver threads out of my hmir;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years 1

I am so weary of toil and of tears.

Toil without recompense, tears all in vain;

Take them, and give me my childhood again.

I have grown weary of dust and decay.

Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away.

Weary of sowing for others to reap;

Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue.
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you !
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between.
Yet with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Lfong I to-night for thy presence again.
Come from the silence, so long and so deep;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

Over my heart, in the 6ays that are flown.
No love like mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures.
Faithful, unselfish, and patient, like yours;
None but a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain;
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 329

Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with goldi
Pall on your shoulders, again as of old,
Let it drop over my forehead to-night.
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I mst listened your lullaby song;
Sing, then; and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream.
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace.
With your light lashes just sweeping my face.
Never hereafter to wake or to weep,
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep!

—Elizabeth Akers Allen.
(" Florence Percy.*)

A ROYAL PRINCESS

I A PRINCESS, king-descended, decked with jewels, gilded
9 drest,
Would rather be a peasant who lulls her babe to rest.
For all I shine so like the sun, and am purple like the west.

Two and two my guards behind, two and two before.
Two and two on either hand, they guard me evermore;
Me, poor dove, that must not coo, — eagle, that must not soar.

All my fountains cast up perfumes, all my gardens grow
Scented woods and foreign spices, with all flowers in blow
That are costly, out of season as the seasons go.

All my walls are lost in mirrors, whereupon I trace

Self to right hand, self to left hand, self in every place—

Self -same solitary figure, self -same seeking face.

These for slaughter, these for 1

Some to work on roads, canals
Some to smut in mines beneai
Some to trap fiiT-be«sts in land

Once It CMne into my heart, ac
That these, too, are men and wc
Men vlth hearts and men with

Onr feasting was not g^ad tha

g»y;

On my mother's gnuefal bead '.
My father, frowning at the £
welgta.

I ut beside them, sole princess,
My ladies and my gentlemen sti
A miiroi showed me I looked ol

It showed me that my ladies all
Plump, plenteous-hatred, to evei

They laugh by day, they sleep '

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 331

I took my bath of scented milk, delicately waited on;
They burned sweet things for my delight, cedar and cinna-
mon;
They lit my shaded silver-lamp, and left me there alone.

A day went by, a week went by. One day I heard it said:
*Men are clamoring, women, children, clamoring to be fed;
Men, like famished dogs, are howling in the streets for bread.*

I strained my utmost sense to catch the words, and mark:

* There are families out grazing, like cattle in the park;

A pair of peasants must be saved, even if we build an ark.*

A merry jest, a merry laugh, each strolled upon his way;
One was my page, a lad I reared and bore with day by day;
One was my youngest maid, as sweet and white as cream
in May.

Other footsteps followed softly with a weightier tramp;
Voices said: << Picked soldiers have been summoned from

the camp
To quell these base-bom ruffians who make free to howl

and stamp. ^

*Howl and stamp ?^ one answered. ^They made free to

hurl a stone
At the minister's state-coach, well aimed and stoutly thrown.*

* There's work, then, for soldiers; for this rank crop most

be mown.*

^ After us the deluge,* was retorted with a laugh.
^If bread's the staff of life, they must walk without a staff.*
« While I've a loaf, they're welcome to my blessing and the
chaff.*

These passed, the King stood up. Said my father with a

smile:
^Daughter mine, your mother comes to sit with you awhile;
She's sad to-day, and who but you her sadness can beguile ?*

Or shall she merely fan me whi

Agkin I GBUgbt my fftther's voice
•Chargel* aclasliof steet *Cb
Smite and spar* not, hand to b
hand to hand.*

There swelled » twnnlt at the

higher;
A fluh at i«d Teflected-Ugbt Ut
I heard a cry for fagots, then I :

Now this thing wiU I do, while i
I will tske my fine-epnn gold, bn
I will take my gold and gems, ai

With a rmnsom in my lap, a king
I will go down to this people, wi

Where they cttrse king, queen, ai

They shall take aU I
give;

8BLBCTIONS FOR PRACTICE 333

THE STATUE IN CLAY

«iui AKK me a statae,^ said the Ring,
^"* «Of marble white as snow;
It must be pure enough to stand
Before my throne, at my right<4iand«
The niche is waiting, go^^

The sculptor heard the King's command.

And went upon his way;
He Had no marble, but he went
With willing hands and high intent.

To mold his thoughts in clay.

Day after day he wrought the clay.

But knew not what he wrought:
He sought the help of heart and brain.
But could not make the riddle plain;
It lay beyond his thought

To-day the statue seemed to grow.

To-morrow it stood still:
The third day all was well again;
Thus, year by year, in joy and pain.

He wrought his Master's will.

At last his life-long work was done,—

It was a happy day:
He took his statue to the King,
But trembled like a guilty thing,

Because it was but clay!

* Where is my statue?^ asked the King

^Here, Lord,* the sculptor said.
*But I commanded marble.* ^True,
But lacking that, what could I do
But mold in clay instead?*

-» K

334 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

*Thou Shalt not tinrewarded go.
Since then hast done thy best;
Thy statue shall acceptance win.
It shall be as it should have been*
For I will do the rest*

He touched the statue and it changed;

The clay falls off, and lo!
A marble shape before Him stands.
The perfect work of heavenly hands.

An angel pure as snow!

— Richard Hbnry Stodda&d.

APOSTROPHE TO THE OCEAN

[Prom ■Childe Harold," Cmnto IV.]

ROLL on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roUf
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin — his control
Stops with the shore; — upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,

When, for a moment, like a drop of rain.
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknowxL

His steps are not upon thy paths, — thy fields
Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise

And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields
For earth's destruction thou dost all despise,
Spuming him from thy bosom to the skies.

And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray
And howling, to his gods, where haply lies

His petty hope in some near port or bay,
And dashest him as:ain to earth: — there let him lay.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 335

The armaments which thunderstrike the walbi

Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake.
And monarchs tremble in their capitals.

The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make

Their clay creator the vain title take
Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war;

These are thy toys and, as the snowy flake.

They melt into thy yeast of waves which mar

Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee —
Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they?

Thy waters wasted them while they were free.
And many a tyrant since; their shares obey
The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay

Has dried up realms to deserts: — not so thou,
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play —

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow —
Such as creation's dawn beheld thou rollest now.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time.

Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm.
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving; — boundless, endless and sublime —

The image of Eternity — the throne
Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime

The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alonOi

And I have loved thee. Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be

Borne, like thy bubbles, onward; from a boy
I wanton'd with thy breakers — they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea

Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear;
For I was as it were a child of thee,

And trusted to thy billows far and near.
And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.

-^GiORGK Gordon. Lord Byron.

336 CULTIVATION OP THB VOICB

OUT TO OLD AUNT MARY'S

Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine,
In those old days of the lost sunshine
Of youth— when the Saturday's chores were throagfa.
And the Sunday's wood in the kitchen, too.
And we went visiting, *I and 3ron,
Out to old Aunt Mary's ? »

It all comes back so clear to-day.
Though I am as bald as you are gray;
Out by the bam-lot and down the lane
We patter along in the dust again,
As light as the tips of the drops of rain.
Out to old Aunt Mary's.

We cross the pasture, and through the wood
Where the old gray snag of the poplar stood.
Where the hammering red-heads hopped awry.
And the buzsard raised in the open sky.
And lolled and circled as we went by.
Out to old Aunt Mary's.

And then in the dust of the road again;
And the teams we met and the countrymen;
And the long highway with the sunshhie spread
As thick as butter on country bread.
And our cares behind and our hearts ahead.
Out to old Aunt Mary's.

I see her now in the open door,
Where the gourds grew up the sides and o'er
The dap-board roof. And her face — Ome!
Wasn't it good for a boy to see ?
And wasn't it good for a boy to be
Out to old Aunt Mary's ?

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 337

And O, my brother, so far away,
This is to tall you she waits to^lay
To welcome us. Aunt Maxy fell
Asleep this morning, whispering: ^Tell
The boys to come.^ And all is well
Oat to old Aunt Mary's.

— James Whitcomb Rilxy.

THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS

TN XASTVRN lauds they talk in flowers,
^ And they tell in a garland their loves and cares;
Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers.
On its leaves a mystic language bears.

The rose is a sign of joy and love.
Young blushing love in its earliest dawn;

And the mildness that suits the gentle dove
From the myrtle's snowy flower is drawn.

Innocence shines in the lily's bell.
Pure as the light in its native heaven;

Fame's bright star and glory's swell
In the glossy leaf of the bay are given.

The silent, soft, and humble heart
In the violet's hidden sweetness breathes;

And the tender soul that cannot part
A twine of e vergreen fondly wreathes.

The c yp res s that daily shades the grave,

Is sorrow that mourns her bitter lot;
And faith that a thousand ills can brave.

Speaks in thy blue leaves, forget-me-not.
Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers,
And tell the wish of thy heart in flowers.

— Jamss Gatbs Pxkciyal.

338 CULTIVATION OP THB VOICB

THE BURIAL OF MOSES

BY Nkbo'8 lonely moantain,
On this side Jordan's wave.
In a vale in the land of Moab,

There lies a lonely grave;
Bnt no man dug that sepulchre,

And no man saw it e'er.
For the angels of God nptumed the sod.
And laid the dead man there.

That was the grandest funeral

That ever passed on earth;
But no man heard the trampling,

Or saw the train go forth.
Noiselessly as the daylight

Comes when the night is done,
Or the crimson streak on ocean's cheek

Fades in the setting sun —

Noiselessly as the spring-time

Her crown of verdure weaves,
And all the trees on all the hills

Open their thousand leaves:
So, without sound of music,

Or voice of them that wept,
Silently down from the mountain's crown

That grand procession swept

Perchance the bald old eagle

On gray Beth-poor's height,
Out of his rocky eyrie,

Looked on the wondrous sight;
Perchance some lion, stalking,

Still shuns the hallowed spot.
For beast and bird have seen and heard

That which man knoweth not

SBLBCTIONS FOR PRACTICE 339

Bat when the warrior dieth,

His comrades in the war,
With arms reversed and mnffled drums.

Follow the funeral car;
They show the banners taken,

They tell his battles won.
And after him lead his masterless steed.

While peals the minute gun.

Amid the noblest of the land.

They lay the sage to rest.
And give the bard an honored place,

With costly marble dressed.
In the great minster transept.

Where lights like glories fall,
While the sweet choir sings, and the organ rings

Along the emblazoned walL

This was the bravest warrior

That ever buckled sword;
This the most gifted poet

That ever breathed a word;
And never earth's philosopher

Traced with his golden pen.
On the deathless page, truths half so sage

As he wrote down for men.

And had he not high honor,

The hillside for his pall.
To lie in state while angels wait.

With stars for tapers tall;
The dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes.

Over his bier to wave.
And God's own hand, in that lonely land.

To lay him in his grave?

In that deep grave without a name,

Whence his unooffined clay
Shall break again— most wondrous thought t —

Before the judgment day,

CDLTrVATIOK OP THE VOICE

And sUind. with glosy wrapped around.

On the hills he never trod.
And speak of the strife that won oar life

Througta Christ the IncarB&Ce God.

O loaely tomb in Uoab's laad!

O dark Beth-poor'a hill!
Speak to these curious hearts of ours,

Aod teach them to be still?
God hath His mysteries of grace,

Wa^ that we caocot tell;
He hides them deep, like secret sleep

Of htm He loved ao welL

— Cbol Fkahcbs Auxakdik.

BREAK. BREAK. BREAK

Drkak. break, break.
^ Od thy cold gray atones, O Seal
And I would that my ton^e could ntter
The thoughts that arise in me.

Oh well for the fisherman's boy.

That he shouts with his sister at plajl
Oh well for the sailor lad.

That he sings in his boat on tha bay!

And the stately ships go on

To their haven under the hill:
But oh for the touch of a vanished hand.

And the sound of a voice ttiat is stllll

Break, break, break.

At the foot of thy crags. O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead

Will never come bock to me.

— Alfred Tennyson.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 341

PLATONIC LOVE

T HAD sworn to be a bachelor, she had sworn to be a maid,
^ For we quite agreed in doubting whether matrimony paid ;
Besides, we had our higher loves: fair science ruled my heart.
And she said her young affections were all wound up in art

So we laughed at those wise men who say that friendship

cannot live
"Twizt man and woman, unless each has something more to

give;
We would be friends, and friends as true as e'er were man

and man:
I'd be a second David, and she Miss Jonathan.

We scorned all sentimental trash — vows, Idsses, tears, and

sighs;
High friendship, such as ours, might well such childish arts

despise.
We liked each other — that was all, quite all there was to

say;
So we just shook hands upon it, in a business sort of way.

We shared our secrets and our jo3rs, together hoped and

feared.
With common purpose sought the goal that young Ambition

reared.
We dreamed together of the days, the dream-bright days to

come;
We were strictly confidential, and we called each other

• chum.*

And many a day we wandered together o'er the hills;
I seeking bugs and butterflies, and she the mined mills
And rustic bridges, and the like, that picture-makers prize
To run in with their waterfalls, and groves, and summer
skies.

34« CULTIVATION OF THE VOICB

And many a qniet evening, in honn of silent
We fkiated down the river, or strolled beneath the trees.
And talked in long gradation, from the poets to the weather.
While the western skies and my dgar burned slowly out
together.

Yet through it all no whispered word, no tell-tale glance or

8igh,
Told anght of warmer sentiment than friendly S3rmpathy;
We talked of love as coolly as we talked of Nebiils»»
And thought no more of being one than we did of being

three.

*Well, good-bye, chum!* I took her hand, for the time had

come to go;
My going meant our parting — when to meet we did not

know.
I had lingered long, and said farewell with a very heavy

heart;
For although we were but friends, 'tis hard for honest

friends to part

* Good-bye, old fellow! don't forget your friends beyond the

sea.
And some day, when you've lots of time, drop a line or two

to me.*
The words came lightly, gayly; but a great sob, just behind,
Welled upward with a story of quite a different kind.

And then she raised her eyes to mine — great liquid eyes of
blue.

Filled to the brim and running o'er, like violet cups of dew*

One long, long glance, and then I did, what I never did be-
fore —

Perhaps the tears meant friendship, but I'm sure the kiss
meant more.

— William B. Tkrkktt.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 343

EPITHALAMIUM

T SAW two clouds at morning
^ Tinged by the rising sun,
And in the dawn they floated on.

And mingled into one;
I thought that morning cloud was blessed,
It moved so sweetly to the west

I saw two summer currents

Flow smoothly to their meeting,
And join their course, with silent force,

In peace each other greeting;
Calm was their course through banks of green.
While dimpling eddies played between.

Such be your gentle motion,

Till life's last pulse shall beat;
Like summer's beam, and sunmier's stream,

Float on, in joy, to meet
A calmer sea, where storms shall cease,
A purer sky, where all is peace.

—John G. C. Brainard.

MARYLAND

[Written when the whole ooantry. North and South, wu anzioaalj
awaHinff the actioa of the douhtful States, this poem, one of the finest
lyrics the War produced, has kMt none of its beauty as a passionate ap-
peal, a stirring call to arms. The allusion in the fifth stanxa ("A new
Key") is to the author of "The Star-Spangled Banner," who was a
ICarylander.]

n^Hi despot's heel is on thy shore,
'^ Maryland !

His tofch is at thy temple door,
Maryland !

344 CULTIVATION OP THB VOICB

Avenge the patriotic gore

That flecked the streets of Baltlmovft

And be the battle-queen of yoro,

Maryland, my liarylaiidf

Hark to thy wandering son's appeal

Maryland!
My mother State: to thee I kneel,

Maryland!
For life and death, for woe and weal.
Thy peerless chivalry reveal.
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel,

Maryland, my Maryland!

Thou wilt not cower in the dust,

Maryland!
Thy beaming sword shall tiever rust

Maryland!
Remember Carroll's sacred trust;
Remember Howard's war-like thrust;
And all thy slumberers with the just,

Maryland, my Maryland!

Come! 'tis the red dawn of the day,

Maryland!
Come with thy panoplied array,

Maryland!
With Ringgold's spirit for the fray.
With Watson's blood at Monterey,
With fearless Lowe, and dashing May,

Maryland, my Maryland!

Come! for thy shield is bright and strong,

Maryland !
Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong,

Maryland !
Come to thine own heroic throng.
That stalks with Liberty along.
And gives a new Key to thy song,

Maryland, my Maryland!

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 345

Dear Mother! burst the tyrant's chain!

Maryland!
Virginia should not call in vain,

Maryland!
She meets her sisters on the plain;
Sic semper, 'tis the proud refrain,
That baffles minionii back amain,

Maryland !
Arise in majesty again,

Maryland, my Maryland!

the blush upon thy cheek,

Maryland!
For thou wast ever bravely meek,

Maryland!
But lo! there surges forth a shriek.
Prom hill to hill, from creek to creek,
Potomac calls to Chesapeake,

Maryland, my Maryland!

Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll,

Maryland!
Thou wilt not crook to his control,

Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll.
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,

Maryland, my Maryland!

I hear the distant thunder hum,

Maryland!
The old Line's bugle, fife and drum,

Maryland !
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb;
Hussa! she spurns the Northern scum!
She breathes! she bums! she'll come, she'll come!

Maryland, my Maryland!

— Jamis Rydbk Randaxx.

346 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICB

THE BURNING OP CHICAGO

FOUND a Rome of common clay,* imperial Omar cried;

*I left a Rome of marble!* No other Rome beside!
The aget wrote their autographs along the acnlptnred atone —
The golden eagles flew abroad — Augustan splendors shone —
They made a Roman of the world! They trailed the classic

robe,
And flung the Latin toga around the naked globe!

*I found Chicago wood and clay,* a mightier Kaiser said.
Then flung upon the sleeping mart his royal robes of red«
And temple, dome, and colonnade, and monument and spire
Put on the crimson livery of dreadful Kaiser Fire!
The stately piles of polished stone were shattered into sand.
And madly drove the dread simoon, and snowed them on

the land;
And rained them till the sea was red, and scorched the

wings of prayer!
Like thistle-down ten thousand homes went drifting thxoagfa

the air,
And dumb Dismay walked hand in hand with frosen-eyed

Despair!

Chicago vanished in a cloud — the towers were storms of

sleet,
Lo! ruins of a thousand years along the spectral street!

The night burned out between the days! The ashen hoar-
frost fell.
As if some demon set ajar the bolted gates of hell.
And let the molten billows break the adamantine bars,
4 roll the smoke of torment up to smother out the stars!
I low, dull growl of powder-blasts just dotted off the din,
if they tolled for perished clocks the time that might
have been!

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 347

The thunder of the fiery surf roared hnman accents dumb;
The trumpet's clangor died away a wild bee's drowsy hum,
And breakers beat the empty world that rumbled like a

drum.
O cities of the Silent Land! O Graceland and Rosehill!
No tombs without their tenantry? The pale host sleeping

still?
Your marble thresholds dawning red with holocaustal glare.
As if the Waking Angel's foot were set upon the stair!

But ah, the human multitudes that marched before the flame —
As 'mid the Red Sea's wavy walls the ancient people came!
Behind, the rattling chariots! the Pharaoh of Fire!
The rallying volley of the whips, the jarring of the tire! —
Looked round, and saw the homeless world as dismal as a

pyre-
Looked up, and saw God's blessed Blue a firmament so dire !
As in the days of burning Troy, when Virgil's hero fled.
So gray and trembling pilgrims found some younger feet

instead,
That bore them through the wilderness with bold elastic

stride,
And Ruth and Rachel, pale and brave, in silence walked be-
side ;
Those Bible girls of Judah's day did make that day sublime —
Leave life but them, no other loss can ever bankrupt Time!

Men stood and saw their all caught up in chariots of flame—
No mantle falling from the sky they ever thought to daim.
And empty-handed as the dead, they turned away and

smiled.
And bore a stranger's household gods and saved a stran-
ger's child!
What valor brightened into shape, like statues in a hall.
When on their dusky panoply the blazing torches fall.
Stood bravely out, and saw the world spread wings of fiery

flight.
And not a trinket of a star to crown disastered night!

— Benjamin F. Taylox.

348 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICB

THE LAKE OF THE DISMAL SWAMP

c'niKT made her a grave too cold and damp

^ For a soul so warm and true;
And she's gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp,
Where, all night long, b}* a fire-fly lamp,

She paddles her white canoe.

*And her fire-fly lamp I soon shall see

And her paddle I soon shall hear;
Long and loving our life shall be.
And 111 hide the maid in a cypress tree,

When the footstep of Death is near.*

Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds;

His path was rugged and sore.
Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds.
Through many a fen where the serpent feeds,

And man never trod before.

And, when on earth he sunk to sleep.

If slumber his eyelids knew.
He lay where the deadly vine doth weep
Its venomous tear, and nightly steep

The flesh with blistering dew.

And near him the she-wolf stirred the brake.

And the coppersnake breathed in his ear,
Till he starting, cried, from his dream awake,
*Oh, when shall I see the dusky lake.
And the white canoe of my dear?*

He saw the lake, and a meteor bright

Quick over its surface played;
•Welcome,* he said, **my dear one's light!*
And the dim shore echoed for many a night

The name of the death-cold maid.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 349

Till he hollowed a boat of the birchen bark
Which carried him off from the shore;

Far, £aLT, he followed the meteor spark;

The winds were hinfh, and the ckmds were dark.
And the boat returned no more.

But oft from the Indian hunter's camp

This lover and maid so true
Are seen at the hour of midnight damp
To cross the lake by a fire-fly kmp,

And paddle their white canoe.

— Thomas Mooub.

THE SPANISH BULL-FIGHT

[Prom «Cliilde Harold,* Cftnto L]

THK lists are oped, the spacious area clear'd.
Thousands on thousands piled are seated round;
Long ere the first loud trumpet's note is heard,
No vacant space for lated wight is found:
Here dons, grandees, but chiefly dames abound,
Skill'd in the ogle of a roguish eye.

Yet ever well inclined to heal the wound;
None through their cold disdain are doomed to die,
As moon-struck bards complain, by Love's sad archery.

Hush'd is the din of tongues — on gallant steeds.

With milk-white crests, gold spur, and light-poised
lance.
Four cavaliers prepare for venturous deeds.

And lowly bending to the lists advance;

Rich are their scarfs, their charges featly prance:
If in the dangerous game they shine to-day.

The crowd's loud shout and ladies' lovely glance.
Best prize of better acts, they bear away.
And all that kings or chief e'er gain their toils repay.

3SO CULTIVATION OF THB VOICS

la oofUy sheen and gaudy cloak amy'd.
But all afoot, the light-llm'd Matadore

Stands in the center, eager to invade
The lord of lowing herds; bat not befora
The ground, with cautious tread, is travers ed o^er.

Lest aught unseen should lurk, to thwart his speed:
His arms a dart, he fights aloof, nor more

Can man achieve without his friendly steed —
Alas! too oft condemn'd for him to bear and b l eed.

Thrice sounds the clarion; lo! the signal falls.
The den expands, and Expectation mute

Gapes round the silent circle's peopled walls.
Bounds with one lashing spring the mighty bmte,
And, wildly staring, spurns, with sounding foot.

The sand, nor blindly rushes on his foe;
Here, there, he points his threatening front, to suit

His first attack, wide waving to and fro
His angry tail; red rolls his eyes' dilated glow.

Sudden he stops; his eye is fix'd: away,

Away, thou heedless boy! prepare the spear:
Now is thy time to perish, or display

The skill that yet may check his mad career.

With well-timed croupe the nimble coursers veer;
On foams the bull, but not unscathed he goes;

Streams from his fiank the crimson torrent clear;
He flies, he wheels, distracted with his throes;
Dart follows dart; lance, lance; loud bellowing speaks

his woes.

Again he comes; nor dart nor lance avail.

Nor the wild plunging of the tortured horse;
Though man and man's avenging arms assail.

Vain are his weapons, vainer is his force.

One gallant steed is stretched a mangled corse;
Another, hideous sight! unseam'd appears;

His gory chest unveils life's panting source,
Though death-struck, still his feeble frame he rears;
Staggering, but stemming all, his lord unharm'd he bears.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 35 1

Foil'd, bleeding, breatliless, furious to the last,
Full in the center stands the bull at bay,

'Mid wounds, and clinging darts, and lances brast.
And foes disabled in the brutal fray:
And now the Matadores around him play.

Shake the red cloak, and poise the ready brand:
Once more through all he bursts his thundering way.

Vain rage: the mantle quits the cunning hand,
Wraps his fierce eye; 'tis past; he sinks upon the sand.

— GioKGi Gordon, Lord Byron.

RESIGNATION

THBRS is no flock, however watched and tended
But one dead lamb is there;
There Is no fireside, howsoe'er defended.
But has one vacant chair.

The air is full of farewells to the djring,

And mournings for the dead;
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying,

Will not be comforted!

Let us be patient! These severe afflictions

Not from the ground arise.
But oftentimes celestial benedictions

Assume this dark disguise.

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors;

Amid these earthly damps
What seem to us but sad funereal tapers,

May be Heaven's distant lamps.

There is no death! What seems so Is transitkm;

This life of mortal breath
Is but a suburb of the life elysian.

Whose portal we call death.

3S» CULTIVATION OP THE VOICB

She ie not dead— the child o£ our affection —

But gone into that school
Where the no longer needs our poor p ro tac t l oo.

And Christ himself doth mle.

In that grtat cloister's stillneis and seduslon.

By gnardian angels led.
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's poUutioOt

She lives, whom we call dead.

Day after day we think what she is doing

In those bright realms of air;
Year after year, her tender steps parsning.

Behold her grown more fair.

Thns do we walk with her and keep unbroken

The bond which nature gives.
Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken.

May reach her where she lives.

Not as a child shall we again behold her;

For when with raptures wild
In our embraces we again enfold her.

She will not be a child ;

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion.

Clothed with celestial grace;
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion

Shall we behold her face.

And though at times, impetuous with emotion

And anguish long suppressed.
The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean.

That cannot be at rest, —

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling

We may not wholly stay;
By silence sanctifying, not concealing.

The grief that must have way.

— H. W. LONGPBLLOW.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 353

THE RAVEN

ONcs upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered, weak and
weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tap-
ping.
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door:
^'Tis some visitor, >> I muttered, <> tapping at my chamber door,
Only this and nothing more.^

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the blea)c December,
And each separate, dying ember wrought its ghost upon the

floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
Prom my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Le-

nore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name

Lenore,

Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me, filled me, with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating:
*'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This is it, and nothing more.^

Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer,
* Sir,* said I, *0r Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rap-
ping.
And so faintly yon came tapping, tapping at my chamber

door.
That I scarce was sure I heard you.* Here I opened wide
the door;

Darkness there, and nothing more,
t »— 23

354 CULTIVATION OP THB VOICB

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood thoro, woadeN

ing, fearing,
Doabting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream

before;
Bat the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,

«Lenore!»
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back tba word,

«Lenore!»

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me bant-
ing;
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before.

* Surely,* said I, << surely that is something at my window

lattice ;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore;
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore;
'Tis the wind and nothing more.*

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and

flutter.
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he, not a minute stopped or

stayed he.
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber

door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door,
Perched and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebon bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling.
By the grave and stem decorum of the countenance it wore.

* Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,* I said, *art

sure no craven,
Qhastly, grim, and ancient Raven, wandering from the

Nightly shore.
Pen me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian

shore*:

Quoth the Raven, « Nevermore.*

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 355

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear diacoume so

plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living hiunan being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber

door,

With such name as * Nevermore.*

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did out-
pour.

Nothing further then be uttered, not a feather then he flut-
tered,

Till I scarcely more than muttered: ^ Other friends have
flown before;

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown
before.*

Then the bird said, ^Nevermore.*

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

* Doubtless,* said I, ^what it utters is its only stock and
store

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Dis-
aster

Followed fast, and followed faster till his songs one burden
bore;

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of * Never, Nevermore.**

But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and

bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore.
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird

of yore

Meant in croaking * Nevermore.*

3S<

CULTIVATION OF

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IB gilt wmg, \nxt
fien- cye^ now

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Ob the

more I sat d:\nn:xig, vith my
cnshian's ^•el\'e: lining that tfae
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SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 357

* Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend ! * I shrieked,

upstarting;
«Get thee back into the tempest and the Nighfs Plutonian

shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken *
Leave my loneliness unbroken ! Quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from

off my door!>>

Quoth the Raven, « Nevermore.*

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is

dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on

the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the

floor

Shall be lifted — nevermore!

— Edoak Allan Poi.

•WHO CAN JUDGE A MAN FROM

MANNERS?*

T17HO can judge a man from manners?
^^ Who shall know him by his dress?
Paupers may be fit for princes.

Princes fit for something less.
Crumpled shirt and dirty jacket

May beclothe the golden ore
Of the deepest thought and feeling —

Satin vest could do no more.
There are springs of crystal nectar

Even swelling out of stone;
There are purple buds and golden.

Hidden, cru^ied and overgrown.

35^ CULTIVATION Ofr THE VOXCft

God who counts by sonlt, not droMes,
Loves and prospers yon and me;

While He values thrones the highest
Bnt as pebbles on the sea.

Man appraised above his fellows.

Oft forgets his fellows, then;
Masters — rulers — lords, remember

That your meanest hands are men!
Men of labor, men of feeling.

Men by thought and men by fame.
Claiming equal rights to sunshine

In a man's ennobling name.
There are foam-embroidered oceans.

There are little wood-clad rills.
There are feeble inch-high saplings.

There are cedars on the hills.
God who couDts by souls, not stations.

Loves and prospers you and me.
For to Him all vain distinctions

Are as pebbles on the sea.

Toiling hands alone are builders

Of a nation's wealth and fame;
Titled laziness is pensioned,

Fed and fattened on the same;
By the sweat of others' foreheads

Living only to rejoice.
While the poor man's outraged freedom

Vainly lifteth to its voice.
Truth and justice are eternal.

Bom with loveliness and light;
Secret wrongs shall never prosper

While there is a sunny height.
God, whose holy voice is singing

Boundless love to you and me,
Sinks oppression with its titles,

As the pebbles on the sea.

— Anonymous.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 359

BAY BILLY

9'y»WAS the last fight at Fredericksburg —
^ Perhaps the day you reck.

Our boys, the Twenty-second Maine,
Kept Early's men in check;

Just where Wade Hampton boomed away
The fight went neck-and-neck.

All day we held the weaker wing,

And held it with a will;
Five several stubborn times we charged

The battery on the hill,
And five times beaten back, re-formed,

And kept our columns stiU.

At last from out the center fight

Spurred up a general's aid.
«That battery must silenced bc!»

He cried, as past he sped.
Our colonel simply touched his cap,

And then, with measured tread,

To lead the crouching line once more

The grand old fellow came.
No wounded man but raised his head.

And strove to g^p his name.
And those who could not speak nor stir,

*God blessed him^ just the same.

For he was all the world to us.

That hero gray and grim;
Right well he knew that fearful slope

We'd climb with none but him.
Though while his white head led the way

We'd charge hell's portals in.

"Up. charge again i
But hung his doj

■We've ao one left
The aullea soldiei

Jn»t then, before th

The cdouel's hon

. Bay BiUy. with bia

Hit Dostriis >wdli

As though still on b

The muter oat as

Right royally he too

That was of old b

And with a neigh, tl

Above the battle's

■How can the Twen

If 1 am not in froi

Like statues we stooc

And gated a little

Above that floating n

The dear familiar f

But we saw Bay Billj

And it gave ns hea

No buB-le call ivhiM »

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 361

And when upon the conquered height

Died out the battle's hum,
Vainly 'mid living and the dead

We sought our leader dombj
It teemed as if a spectre steed

To win that day had come.

At last the morning broke. The lark

Sang in the merry skies
As if to e*en the sleepers there

It said, awake, arise!
Though naught but that last trump of all

Could ope their heavy eyes.

And then once more, with banners gay.

Stretched out the long brigade;
Trimly upon the furrowed field

The troops stood on parade,
And bravely 'mid the ranks were closed

The gaps the fight had made.

Not half the Twenty-second's men

Were in their place that mom.
And Corporal Dick, who yester-noon

Stood six brave fellows on.
Now touched my elbow in the ranks.

For all between were gone.

Ah I who forgets that dreary hour

When, as with misty eyes.
To call the old familiar roll

The solemn sergeant tries?
One feels that thumping of the heart

As no prompt voice replies.

And as, in faltering tone and slow.

The last few names were said.
Across the field some missing horse

Toiled up with weary tread;
It caught the sergeant's eye, and quick

Bay Billy's name was read.

And ever from thi
When rang the i

Bay Billy's name \
The whole line a

UP-:

Dou tbe roftd wind n
Vm. to the very ei
Win the dajr's journey t
From mom to night, I

fiut 1b there for tbe nlgl
A roof for wheo the b!

Hay not the dftrkoeBS fav
You cannot mlas that j

Shall I meet other wayfi
Those who have gone

Then most I koock, or c
They will not keep yoi

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 363

SOMEBODY'S DARLING

[It is nid that the author of this poi>u1ar poem wished to remain nii>
known. It was first published in the * Southern Churchman,* her name
being attached without her knowledge. While it may be a matter of
wonder that she has never written anything else, it may be conjectured
that her wishes have not been disregarded in respect to other poema.]

f NTO a ward of the whitewashed walls,
^ Where the dead and dying lay,
Wounded by bayonets, sheUs, and balls,

Somebody's Darling was borne one day.
Somebody's Darling, so young and so brave,

Wearing yet on his pale, sweet face,
Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave,

The lingering light of his boyhood's grace.

Biatted and damp are the curls of gold.

Kissing the snow of that fair young brow;
Pale are the lips of delicate mold:

Somebody's Darling is dying now.
Back from his beautiful blue-veined brow

Brush all the wandering waves of gold,
Cross his hands on his bosom now:

Somebody's Darling is still and cold.

Kiss him once for Somebody's sake;

Murmur a prayer soft and low;
One bright curl from its fair mates take.

They were Somebody's pride, you know;
Somebody's hand had rested there:

Was it a mother's, soft and white ?
And have the lips of a sister fair

Been baptized in those waves of light?

God knows best; he was Somebod/s love;

Somebody's heart enshrined him there;
Somebody wafted his name above

Night and mom on the wings of prayer;

Tenderly bury the f
^ Pausing to drop o
: on the woode

THE

A OAii* I hear

'^ He'a nppi

Too well I kno

Th»t oBhers i

I do not trembl

The stootest ■

But Heaven def

Who comes, b

H« drops Into n

And asks aboi

He peers into m

And gives hrs

He tells me wbc

And where he'

He takes the str

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 365

He calmly smokes my best cigar

And coolly asks for more;
He opens everything he sees,

Except — the entry door.

He talks aboat his fragile health,

And tells me of his pains;
He suffers from a score of ills

Of which he ne'er complains;
And how he struggled once with death

To keep the fiend at bay.
On themes like those away he goes,

But never goes — away!

He tells me of the captious words,

Some shallow critic wrote,
And every precious paragraph

Familiarly can quote.
He thinks the writer did me wrong,

He*d like to run him through!
He says a thousand pleasant things.

But never says — adieu.

Whene'er he comes, that dreadful man,

Disguise it as I may,
I know that like an autumn rain.

He'll last throughout the day.
In vain 1 speak of urgent tasks.

In vain I scowl and pout;
A frown is no exting^sher.

It does not — put him out.

I mean to take the knocker off.

Put crape upon the door.
Or hint to John that I am gone

To stay a month or more.
I do not tremble when I meet

The stoutest of my foes —
But Heaven defend me from the friend

Who never, never goeil

—J. G. Saxs.

O'er the ramparts we wa'
ing?
And the rockefs red gUrc, i
G»ve proof, through the njgl
Oh say! doea that star-apanj
O'er the land of the free an,

On that ahore, dimly aeen th
Wb«re the foe's hauj^ty h
What is that which the braei
As it fitfully blows, now co
Now it catches the gleam of
In full glory reflected, now si
Tis the star-spangted banner
O-er the land of the free and

And «Aere Is that band irtio
That the havoc of war and
A home and a conntry shoold
Their blood has washed out
No refuge could save the hire
Prom the terror of flight or tl
And the star-spangled banner
Oer the land of the free and

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 367

Thus conquer we must, when oar cause it is just.
And this be our motto: ^In God is our trust!*
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

— FRANas Scott Kby.

THE BAREFOOT BOY

BLESSINGS on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the stmshine on thy face.
Through thy torn brim*s jaunty grace!
From my heart I give thee joy:
I was once a barefoot boy.
Prince thou art — the grown-up man
Only is republican.
Let the million-dollared ride!
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can buy,
In the reach of ear and eye:
Outward sunshine, inward joy.
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!

O, for boyhood's painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day.
Health that mocks the doctor's rules.
Knowledge never learned of schools:
Of the wild bee's morning chase,
Of the wild flower's time and place.
Plight of fowl, and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood;
How the tortoise bears his shell.
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
And the ground-mole sinks his well;

Of gray hornet a
For escheviing be
Nature answers ;
Haad in hand w
F»ce to fac« witl
Rirt ftnd pucel c
Bleatlngs on tho

O. tor boyhood** I
Crowding jrean ti
When all things I
Ue, their master,
I WM rich In flow
Humming-birds u
For my sport the
Pllod the sniMt«d
For ray taste tho
Purpled over bedg)
Laughed the brool
Through the day a
Whispering at the
Talked with me fn
Mine the sand-rimi

M).i. .1 ._ . .

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE ^

Seemed a complex Chinese toy,
Fashioned for a barefoot boy!

O, for festal dainties spread.
Like my bowl of milk and bread.
Pewter spoon and bowl of wood.
On the door-stone, gray and mdel
O'er me, like a regal tent.
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent;
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold.
Looped in many a wind-swung fold;
While, for music, came the play
Of the pied frogs* orchestra;
And, to light the noisy choir.
Lit the fly his lamp of fire.
I was monarch; pomp and joy
Waited on the barefoot boyl

Cheerily, then, my little man!
Live and laugh as boyhood can;
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward.
Every mom shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat;
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison-cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod.
Like a colt's for work be shod.
Made to tread the mills of toil,
Up and down in ceaseless moil;
Happy if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground;
Happy if they sink not in
Quick and treacherous sands of tin.
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy.
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!

— John Grxsnixaf WBimxa.

CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

WHY SHOULD THE SPIRIT OP
MORTAL BE PROUD?

(Well koaini u Ibc fiTOilte 9

n of Pnddcnl LlnEoln.l

OH ! WHY should the apiril: of mortal be proad ?
Like a swift -tieetiag meieoi. a fast-flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
He passes frota life to his rest in the grave.

Th« lcave<i of the oali and the wiHow shall fade.

Be scattered around, and together be laid ;

Aad the young, aod the old. and the low and the higli, j

Shall molder to dust, aod tog«theT shall lie.

The infant a mother attended and loved.
The mother that infant's affection who proved.
The husband that infant aitd mother who blessed.
Each, all. are away to theii dwelling of rest.

The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eyvl

Shone beauty and pleaaiire, her triumphs are by;

And the memory of those that beloved her aud praised

AiG alike from the miads of the living erased.

The hand of the king that the soeptre hath borne.
The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn, 1

The eye of the sage, and the heart of the bravo
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

The peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap.
The herdsman, who climbed with his goats to th« ftt«q^^
The Ijeggar, who wandered in search of his br«ad,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

The saint, who enjoyed the communion of heaven
The sinner, who dared to remaia nnforg^ven.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 371

The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just.
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust

So the multitude goes, like the flower and the weed*
That wither away, to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes, even those we behold.
To repeat every tale that hath often been told.

For we are the same that our fathers have been.
We see the same sights that our fathers have seen;
We drink the same stream, and we feel the same sun
And mn the same course that our fathers have run.

The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think.
From the death we are shrinking our fathers would shrink,
To the life we are cliag^g our fathers would cling.
But it speeds from the earth like a bird on the wing.

They loved, but the story we cannot unfold.
They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cokl;
They grieved, but no voice from their slumbers may come;
They joyed, but the voice of their gladness is dumb.

They died; aye, they died; and we, things that are now.
Who walk on the turf that lies over their brow.
Who make in their dwelling a transient abode.
Meet the changes they met on their pilgrimage road.

Yea! hope and despondency, pleasure and pain.

Are mingled together like sunshine and rain;

And the smile and the tear, and the song and the dirge

Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.

Tis the twink of an eye, 'tis the draft of a breath.
Prom the blossom of health to the paleness of death.
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud.
Oh, wtf should the spirit of mortal be proud ?

—William Knox

vviiQ iruitiess la

And strove to st

The monk, with

Exhausted all tb

Ever, be said, tb

A Udy's voice v

And that the pr:

For that il

•In the tort battle.

Where t&lngles war"!

So the nob

* Avoid thee, frie
Shake aot the d]
O look, mj son, i
Of the Redeemet

O think on
By many a deatl)
And many a sine

But never i
The war, that for
Now trebly thunc

And «SUnl
A light on Marm

And fired fa
With dying hand,

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE

373

THE HARP THAT ONCE THROUGH

TARA'S HALLS

THE harp that once through Tara*s halls
The soul of music shed,
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls

As if that soul were fled!
So sleeps the pride of former days,

So glory's thrill is o*er,
And hearts that once beat high for praise
Now feel that pulse no more.

No more to chiefs and ladies bright

The harp of Tara swells;
The chord alone that breaks at night

Its tale of ruin tells.
Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes

The only throb she gives.
Is when some heart indignant breaks

To show that still she lives.

~ Thomas Mooib.

MEMORIES

ABiAUTiFUL and happy girl.
With step as light as summer air,
Eyes glad with smiles, and brow of pearl,
Shadowed by many a careless curl
Of unconfined and flowing hair;
A seeming child in every thing,

Save thoughtful brow and ripening charms.
As nature wears the smile of Spring,
When sinking into Summer's arms.

CtJLTIVATION OP THE VOICB

A mind rajoiciiiK in the ligbt

Wtaicb metted thraagh Its grmceful boi
Leaf after leal, dew-moist and brigbt.
And stAioless in Its holy white.

Unfolding like a morning Rower.
A heart, which, tilce a fine-toned lute,

With every breath of feeling woke,
And. even when the tongue was mute,

Prom eye and lip in mnslc spoke.

How thrills once mora the lengthening ch«!o

Of memory at the thought of Iheel
Old hopes, which long in dust have lain.
Old dreams, come Lbrongiag back again.

And boyhood lives again in me;
I feet its glow upon my cheek.

Its fullness of the heart Is mine,
As when I leaned to hear thee speak.

Or raised mj doubtfnl ey« to thiott.

I hear again thy low replies,

I feel thy arm within my owiL
And timidly again uprise
The fringed lids of tuuel eyes.

With soft brown treatM orerblom.
Ahl I

Of moonlit wave and wiDofry ^ ^^^
Of stars, and flowers, and dewy leavia.

And smiles and uxios more dear tliaa tlMyl

Ere this, thy qtilet eye hath smilod

Uy picture of the ynolh to m«.
When, half a woman, half a chUd,
Thy very artlevneta bognlkd.

And fol^ HlC umad wIm la thae;
I too can Hrt)^ wbm e'er tbat boor

The y^llfg^jarnK'rj lra';V-wikrd j
Tat

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 375

Years have passed on and left their trace

Of gpraver care and deeper thought;
And unto me the calm, cold face
Of manhood, and to thee the grace

Of woman's pensive beauty brought
More wide, perchance, for blame than praise.

The school-boy's humble name has flown;
Thine, in the green and quiet ways

Of unobtrusive goodness known.

And wider yet in thought and deed

Diverge our pathways, one in youth;
Thine the Genevan's sternest creed.
While answers to my spirit's needs

The Derby dalesman's simple truth;
For thee, the priestly rite and prayer,

And holy day, and solemn psalm;
For me, the silent reverence where

My brethren gather slow and calm.

Yet hath thy spirit left on me

An impress time hath not worn out.
And something of m3r8elf in thee,
A shadow from the past, I see.

Lingering, even yet, thy way about;
Not wholly can the heart unlearn

That lesson of its better hours;
Not yet has Time's dull footstep worn

To common dust that path of flowers.

Thus, while at times, before our eyes,

The shadows melt and fall apart.
And smiling through them round us lies
The warm light of our morning skies.

The Indian summer of the heart:
In secret sympathies of mind.

In founts of feeling which retain
Their pure, fresh flow, we yet may find

Our early dreams not wholly vain.

— John Guenlbaf WmmiR.

\Vhat a world of men

How they tinkle

In the icy air

While the stare

All the heavens

Witl) ft crystal

Keeping time, ti

To the tintinnabulatioi

Prom the bells, 1

Bell^ b

Prom Qit jingling and

Rear the mellow

Golden

What a world of bappj

Through the bali

How they ring o

From the molti

And aU

O, from out the i

What a gush of euphot

How it I

How it .

On the futnrel

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 377

Hear the loud alarum bells —
Brasen bells!
What a tale of terror, now. their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire I
Leaping higher, higher, higher.
O, the bells, bells, bells I
What a tale their terror tells
Of despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air I
Yet the ear, it fully knows.
By the twanging
And the clanging.
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling
And the wrangling.
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the beUs—
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells.
Bells, bells, bells —
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!

Hear the tolling of the bells —

Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels I
In the silence of the night.
How we shiver with affright.
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats

Is a groan.
And the people — ah, the people!
They that dwell up in the steeple,

All alone,

CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

And wbo toUrag. tolling, talliug,

In that muffled monotone.
Feel k gtory in so railing

On the humao beait a stoiie.
Tbey are seither roan nor woman;
They are neither brute nor human —

Tbey are ghouls:
And their king It is who tolls;
And be rolls, roUs. rolls,

Eeepiog time, time. time.

To the throbbing of the bells—

To the sobbing of the bells;

As he knells. kneUs. knell^—

To the rolling of the bells.—

To the tolling of the bells.
To the moaning and the groAuing of the bells.

— Edgab a. Pot

HOME. SWEET HOMEl

[prom -CUH, tbe Hajd of MiUn.*]

'llJliD pleasures and palaces though we may room,
''* Be it ever so humble, there's no place like hornet
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there.
Which, seek through the world, is not met with elsewhere.

Home, home! sweet, swe«t borne!

There's no place like home!

An exile from home, pleasure daczles in vain;

Ah. give me my lowly thatched cottage again!

The birds singing sweetly that came at my call.

Give me them, and that peace of mind, dearer than all!

Home, home! sweet, sweet home I

There's no place like faomel

There's no place like homo!

— John Howabd Pavkx.

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 379

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB

THB Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea.
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.

III.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast.
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill.
And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still!

IV.

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide.
But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride:
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the tnr^
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale.
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

VI.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail.
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword.
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

— Gborgb Gordon, Lord Byron.

And leaves the voi

Now fades the glimir
And all the air a s

Sav« where the baetl<
And drowsy tinkliu,

Savs that, from yoadt
The moping owl do

Of tnch as, wandering
Molest her ancient :

BeoeBtb thoae niggfed
Where heaves the ti

Each In bis narrow ce
Th« rade forefathen

The breety call of inc
The Gwaltow twltteri

The cock's shrill clario
No mor« shall rouse

For them no more the
Or busy housewife p

No children run to lisp
Or climb his knees t:

8SLECTI0NS FOR PRACTICB 381

Let not Ambition mock their useful toll,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;

Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e*er gave.

Await alike the inevitable hour:
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault.
If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise.

Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.

Can storied urn, or animated bust.
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?

Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust.
Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?

Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;

Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed*
Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.

But knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;

Chill penury repressed their noble rage.
And froze the genial current of the souL

Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;

Full many a flower is born to blush tmseen.
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast
The little tyrant of his fields withstood;

Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest.
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.

And shut the gates of m<

The struggHng pangs of co:
To quench the bluabes of

Or heap tbe ahrino of Inxni
With incetiae Idndled at L

Par from tba madding cron
Tbeir sober wiahu never

A\oBg the cool, aeqnestered
They kept the noiseless ta

Yet e'en these booea from li
Some frail memorial still <

With DDconth rhymes and si
Implores the passing tribal

Their names, their year*, ape
Tbe place of fame and elej

And many a holy text aroan
That teach the nutlc mora

For who, to dtmib forgetfoln*

This pleasing, anxious bein

Left the wann precincts of tl

S£L£CTIONS FOR PRACTICE 383

For thee, who, mindful of the tmhonored dead,
Dost in these lines their artless tale relate.

E'en chance, by lonely Contemplation led.
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, —

Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,
*Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn.

Brushing with hasty steps the dews away.
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn.

* There at the foot of yonder nodding beech.
That wreathes its old, fantastic roots so high.

His listless length at noontide would he stretch.
And pore upon the brook that babbles by.

*Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn.
Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove;

Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn,
Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.

«One mom, I missed him on the 'customed hill.
Along the heath, and near his favorite tree;

Another came, nor yet beside the rill.
Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;

*The next with dirges due in sad array.

Slow through the church way path we saw him borne;
Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay,

Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.*

THB EPITAPH

Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth.

A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown;
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth.

And Melancholy marked him for her own.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere;

Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave to misery, all he had, a tear;

He gained from Heaven, 'twas all he wished, a friend.

'■ ?!

DON'T Tji

i Wc

And into the wat

Did we

And tei

And give it ft pei

There's
Would -

Were we not now
So Mdl]
And qn;

It hatchea out all

How we
Of looks

Whether one'a wei
Eyes bri
Cheeks i

Th« gixMn and thi

Resolved

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 3S5

THERE IS NO DEATH

THBRX is no death! The stars go down
To rise upon some fairer shore;
And bright, in heaven's jeweled crown,
They shine for evermore.

There is no death! The dust we tread
Shall change beneath the summer showers

To golden grain or mellow fruit.
Or rainbow-tinted flowers.

The granite rocks disorganize,
And feed the hungpry moss they bear;

The forest-leaves drink daily life
Prom out the viewless air.

There is no death! The leaves may fall.
And flowers may fade and pass away;

They only wait through wintry hours
The coming of May-day.

There is no death ! An angel-form
Walks o'er the earth with silent tread;

And bears our best-loved things away,
And then we call them ^dead.*

He leaves our hearts all desolate.
He plucks our fairest, sweetest flowers;

Transplanted into bliss, they now
Adorn immortal bowers.

The bird-like voice, whose jo3rous tones
Made glad the scenes of sin and strife,

Sings now an everlasting song
Aroimd the tree of life.

And ever near us.
The' dear immoi

For all the bouadl

Is life— tber« Is

— Si» Bdwa

[Fran •UiM EHmiiuci

/"•old! Gold! Go
^~* Bright and yt
Molten. gTkveo. hai
Heavy to get, and
Hoarded, bartered.
Stolen, borrowed, n
Spumed by the yoi
To the very verge
Price of many a cr
Gold! Gold! Gold;
Good or bad. a thoi
How widely its a

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 5S7

A PSALM OF LIFE

WHAT THX BXART OP THB TOUlfO MAN SAID TO THB PaALKZtT.

'TWILL me not, in mournful numbers,
^ Life is but an empty dream:
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest I
And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust retumest.
Was not spoken of the souL

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow

Find U8 farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave.

Still, like muffled drums are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be' a hero in the strife !

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, act in the living present!

Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind ui
We can make our lives sublime.

And, departing, leave behind us.
Footprints on the sands of Time;

THE LANDING
PAT

'Thi breakinff wave

On a stem and

And the woods agali

Their giant brand

And the heavy night
The hills and watc

When a band of exit
On the wild New 1

Not as the canqneror
They, the true hear

Not with the roll of
And the tnunpet tt

Not as the flying con
In silence and in k

They shook the depth
With their hvn.n. «

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 389

The ocean eagle soared

From his nest by the white wave's foam.
And the rocking pines of the forest roared—

This was their welcome home!

There were men with hoary hair

Amidst that pilgrim-band;
Why had they come to wither there,

Away from their childhood's land?

There was woman's fearless eye,

Lit by her deep love's truth;
There was manhood's brow, serenely hig^

And the fiery heart of youth.

What sought they thus afar?

Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?

They sought a faith's pure shrine.

Aye, call it holy ground —

The soil where first they trod!
They have left unstained what there they found'

Freedom to worship God!

— Peucia Dorothea Hucams.

I'M GROWING OLD

jlilY DAYS pass pleasantly away;

^"^ My nights are blest with sweetest sleep;

I feel no symptoms of decay;

I have no cause to mourn or weep;
My foes are impotent and shy;

My friends are neither false nor cold;
And yet, of late, I often sigh,
I'm growing old I

CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

My gTOwiag Ulk of oldec times.

My growing thirst for early new^
My growing apathy to rbymes.

My growing love of easy shoes.
My growing hate of ctowiIb and noise,

My growing fear of taking cold.
All whisper, in the plainest vcdce.
I'm growing old I

Tta growing fonder of my staff;

Fm growing dimmer in the eyes;
Fm growing fainter in my hiugh:

Fm growing deeper in my sighs;
Tm growing careless of my dress ;

I'm growing frugal of m y gold ;

Fm growing wise; Fm growing — yea,

I'm growing old !

1 Ece it in my changing drass;

I see it la my changing hair;
1 see it in my growing wsist;

I see it in my growing hair;
A thousaod signs proclaim the truth.

As plain as truth was ever told.
That even in my vaunted yonth.
Fm growing old!

Ah me! ray very laurels breathe
The tale in my reluctant ears.

And every boon the Hours bequeath
But makes me debtor to the Years;

E'en Flattery's honeyed word* declare
The secret she would fain withhold,

And tells me in "How yoong you are!*
I'm growing old !

Thanks for the years! whose rapid flight
My sombre muse too aadly slogs;

Thanks for the gleams of golden light
That tint the darkness of their winga;

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 391

The light that beams from out the sky,

Those heavenly mansions to unfold
Where all are blest, and none may sigh,
•I'm growing old!*

— John Godfrky Sazx.

THE WAY OF THE WORLD

f AUGH, and the world langhs with you,

*-' Weep, and you weep alone.

For the brave old earth must borrow its mirth

But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing and the hills will answer,

Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes rebound to a jo3rfal sotmd

And shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you.

Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of your pleasure.

But they do not want your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many.

Be sad, and you lose them all;
There are none to decline your nectared wine.

But alone you must drink life's gaU.

Feast, and your halls are crowded,

Fast, and the world goes by.
Forget and forgave — it helps you to live,

But no man can help you to die;
There's room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,
But, one by one, we must all march on

Through the narrow aisle of pain.

— Ella Whulbr Wilcox.

CULTIVATION C* THE VOICE

THERE IS NO REST

TKiKE is no rest! tbe mills of cbacge
Griad on — the gods are at tbe wheels!
The same fierce impulse, swift and stra&ga
We feel, that every planet feels.

There is no rest! not even sleep

Is shorn of its mobility —
The red bloods through the body smep

Forever. like a tided sea.

There is no rest! the granite grinds
To dust, within its marble glooms;

Decay's pale worm incessant winds

Its way thro' fame's emblasoned tombK.

There is no rest I e'en Love hath wings

That wearilessly fan the air.
In his leal-hearted wanderings.

So fetterless, so free from care.

There is no rest I the feet of Pain
Are shod with motion — Pleasure's ey«a

Pale faster than the sun-kissed rain,
Swung arching in the mid May skies.

There is no rest! Religion shakes

Her stainless robes, and skyward lifts

Her tremulous white palms, and takes
Faith's priceless and eternal gifts.

There ia no rest! the long gray caves
Of death are rife with force acd heat.

Nor Fancy pauses till she paves

The floors of heaven with flying (eot,

—J. N. Uattbkws.

8BLBCTI0NS FOR PRACTICE 393

THE REWARD

WHO, looking backward from his manhood's prime,
Sees not the spectre of his misspent time?
And, through the shade
Of funeral cypress planted thick behind,
Hears no reproachful whisper on the wind
From his beloved dead?

Who bears no trace of passion's evil force?
Who shuns thy stings. O terrible Remorse?

Who does not cast
On the thronged pages of his memory's book,
At times, a sad and half- reluctant look.

Regretful of the past?

Alas! the evil which we fain would shun
We do, and leave the wished-for good undone;

Our strength to-day
Is but to-morrow's weakness, prone to fall;
Poor, blind, unprofitable servants all

Are we alway.

Yet who, thus looking backward o'er his years.
Feels not his eyelids wet with grateful tears,

If he hath been
Permitted, weak and sinful as he was.
To cheer and aid, in some ennobling cause,

His fellow men?

If he hath hidden the outcast, or let in
A ray of sunshine to the cell of sin;

If he hath lent
Strength to the weak, and, in an hour of need.
Over the suffering, mindless of his creed

Or home, hath bent.

394 CULTIVATION OF THE VOICE

He hAft not lived in vain; and while he govern
The praise to Him, in whom he moves and lives.

With thankful heart.
He gases backward, and with hope before.
Knowing that from his works he nevermore

Can henceforth part

—John Grxknlbaf WHimnL

PAUL BEFORE KING AGRIPPA

THEN Agrippa said unto Paul, Thou art permitted
to speak for thyself. Then Paul stretched
forth the hand, and answered for himself: —

I think myself happy, king Agrippa, because I
shall answer for myself this day before thee touch-
ing all the things whereof I am accused of the Jews*
especially because I know thee to be expert in all
customs and questions which are among the Jews:
wherefore I beseech thee to hear me patiently.

My manner of life from my youth, which was at
the first among mine own nation at Jerusalem,
know all the Jews ; which knew me from the begin-
ning, if they would testify, that after the most
straitest sect of our religion I lived a Pharisee. And
now I stand and am judged for the hope of the
promise made of Grod unto our fathers : unto which
promise our twelve tribes, instantly serving God
day and night, hope to come. For which hope's
sake, king Agrippa, I am accused of the Jews.

Why should it be thought a thing incredible with
70U9 that God should raise the dead? I verily

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 395

thought with mjrself , that I ought to do many things
contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth. Which
thing I also did in Jerusalem: and many of the
saints did I shut up in prison, having received au-
thority from the chief priests; and when they were
put to death, I gave my voice against them. And
I punished them oft in every synagogue, and com-
pelled them to blaspheme ; and being exceedingly
mad against them, I persecuted them even unto
strange cities. Whereupon as I went to Damascus
with authority and commission from the chief
priests, at midday, O king, I saw in the way a light
from heaven, above the brightness of the sun, shin-
ing round about me and them which journeyed with
me. And when we were all fallen to the earth, I
heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the
Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou
me ? it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.

And I said. Who art thou, Lord? And He said, I
am Jesus whom thou persecutest. But rise, and
stand upon thy feet: for I have appeared unto thee
for this purpose, to make thee a minister and a wit-
ness both of these things which thou hast seen, and
of those things in the which I will appear unto thee;
delivering thee from the people, and from the Gen-
tiles, tmto whom now I send thee, to open their
eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and
from the power of Satan unto God, that they may
receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among
them which are sanctified by faith that is in me.

Whereupon, O king Agrippa, I was not disobe-
dient unto the heavenly vision: but showed first
unto them of Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and

which the prophets and J
That Christ should suffer,
first that should rise from
light unto the people and

And as be thus spake fa
a loud voice, Paul, thou
learning doth make thee i
mad, most. noble Festos;
of truth and soberness,
these things, before whon
am persuaded that none «
from him ; for this thing
King Agrippa, believest tl
that thou believest. Thei
Almost thou persuadest it

And Paul said, I woa
thou but also all that he:
almost and altogether su
bonds. And when he hi
rose up, and the govemc
that sat with them : and w

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 397

THE CATARACT OF LODORE*

fj ERE it come sparkling,

^ And there it lies darkling;

Here smoking and frothing,

Its tumult and wrath in.
It hastens along, conflicting, and strong,

Now striking and raging,

As if a war waging.
Its caverns and rocks among.

Rising and leaping.

Sinking and creeping.

Swelling and flinging.

Showering and springing.

Eddying and whisking.

Spouting and frisking.

Twining and twisting
Around and around,-—

Collecting, disjecting.
With endless rebound;

Smiting and fighting,

A sight to delight in,

Confounding, astounding,
Diszying and deafening the ear with its aoond.

Receding and speeding,

And shocking and rocking.

And whizzing and hissing.

And dripping and skipping,

And whitening and brightening.

And quivering and shivering,

And shining and twining.

And rattling and battling.

And shaking and quaking.

And pouring and roaring,

And waving and raving.

And tossing and crossing,

• A oelebntcd fall on Derwent- Water, in CumberUnd, England.

39^ CULTIVATION OP THB VOICK

And flowing Aod p'owio^
And faonyii]^ and tknrrylsifl^.
And dinning and spinning;
And foaming and roamiog.
And dropping and hopping.
And heaving and cleaving.

And driving and riving and striving.

And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling.

And sounding and bounding and nmnding.

And babbling and troabling and doubling.

Dividing and gliding and sliding,

And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling.

And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming,

And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing.

And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping.

And curling and whirling and purling and twirling.

Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting.

Delaying and straying and playing and spraying.

Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing.

Recoiling, turmoiling, and toiling and boiling.

And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;

And so never ending, but alwa]^ descending.
Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending.
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar; —
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.

^ROBEET SOUTHKV.

PICTURES OF MEMORY

A MONO the beautiful pictures
*^ That hang on memory's wall.
Is one of a dim old forest.

That seemeth best of all.
Not for its gnarl'd oaks olden.

Dark with the mistletoe;
Not for the violets golden

That sprinkle the vale below;

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 399

Not for the milk-white lilies

That lean from the fragrant ledge,
Coquetting all day with tiie sunbeams.

And stealing their golden edge;
Not for the vines on the upland

Where the bright red berries rest.
Nor the pinks, nor the pale, sweet cowslip,

It seemeth to me the best

I once had a little brother

With eyes that were dark and deep;
In the lap of that dim old forest,

He lieth in peace asleep,
Light as the down of the thistle.

Free as the winds that blow.
We roved there the beautiful summers.

The summers of long ago;
But his feet on the hills grew weary.

And, one of the autumn eves,
I made for my little brother

A bed of the yellow leaves.

Sweetly his pale arms folded

My neck in a meek embrace.
As the light of immortal beauty

Silently oover'd his face;
And when the arrows of sunset

Lodged in the tree-tops bright.
He fell, in his saint-like beauty.

Asleep by the gates of light

Therefore, of all the pictures

That hang on Memory's wall.
The one of the dim old forest

Seemeth the best of all

— Alice Cakt.

400 CULTIVATION Or TBI VOm

TACT AND TALENT

TALENT is something, but tact is eveijtba&{.
Talent is serious, sober, g^ve, and ittped-
able: tact is all that, and more, too. It is not a
sixth sense, but it is the life of all the five. It is
the open eye, the quick ear, the judging taste, the
keen smell, and the lively touch; it is the inter-
preter of all riddles, the surmounter of all difficulties,
the remover of all obstacles. It is useful in all
places and at all times; it is useful in solitude, for
it shows a man his way into the world; it is useful
in society, for it shows him his way through the
world.

Talent is power, tact is skill; talent is weight,
tact is momentum; talent knows what to do, tact
knows how to do it ; talent makes a man respectable,
tact will make him respected ; talent is wealth, tact
is ready money. For all the practical purposes of
life, tact carries it against talent, ten to one. Take
them to the theatre, and put them against each
other on the stage, and talent shall produce you a
tragedy that will scarcely live long enough to be
condemned, while tact keeps the house in a roar,
night after night, with its successful farces. There
is no want of dramatic talent, there is no want of
dramatic tact; but they are seldom together: so we
have successful pieces which are not respectable,
and respectable pieces which are not successful.

Take them to the bar, and let them shake their
learned ctu'ls at each other in legal rivalry. Talent

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 40 1

sees its way clearly, but tact is first at its journey's
end. Talent has many a compliment from the
bench, but tact touches fees from attorneys and
clients. Talent speaks learnedly and logically, tact
triumphantly. Talent makes the world wonder that
it gets on no faster, tact excites astonishment that it
gets on so fast. And the secret is, that tact has no
weight to carry ; it makes no false steps ; it hits the
right nail on the head; it loses no time; it takes all
hints, and, by keeping its eye on the weathercock,
is ready to take advantage of every wind that blows.

Take them into the church. Talent has always
something worth hearing, tact is sure of abundance
of hearers; talent may obtain a living, tact will
make one; talent gets a good name, tact a great
one; talent convinces, tact converts; talent is an
honor to the profession, tact gains honor from the
profession. Take them to court. Talent feels its
weight, tact finds its way ; talent commands, tact is
obeyed; talent is honored with approbation, and
tact is blessed by preferment

Place them in the senate. Talent has the ear of
the house, but tact wins its heart and has its votes ;
talent is fit for employment, but tact is fitted for it.
Tact has a knack of slipping into place with a sweet
silence and glibness of movement, as a billiard ball
insinuates itself into the pocket It seems to know
everything without learning anything. It has
served an invisible and extemporary apprentice-
ship; it wants no drilling; it never ranks in the
awkward squad ; it has no left hand, no deaf ear, no
blind side. It puts on no looks of wondrous wis-
dom, it has no air of profundity, but plays with the

402 CULTIVATION OP THE VOICK

details of place as dexterously as a well-tanj^lit
hand flouridies over the keys of the piano-forte. It
has all the air of commonplace^ and all the force
and power of genius.

— London Atlas.

SUPPOSED SPEECH OP JOHN ADAMS

ON THE DECLARATION OP

INDEPENDENCE

SINK or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give
my hand and my heart to this vote. It is true,
indeed, that in the beginning we aimed not at inde-
pendence. But there's a Divinity which shapes our
ends. The injustice of England has driven us to
arms ; and, blinded to her own interest, for our good,
she has obstinately persisted, till independence is
now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth
to it, and it is ours. Why then should we defer the
Declaration ? Is any man so weak as now to hope
for a reconciliation with England, which shall leave
either safety to the country and its liberties, or
safety to his own life and his own honor ? Are not
you, Sir, who sit in that chair, is not he, our venera-
ble colleague near you, are you not both already the
proscribed and predestined objects of punishment
and of vengeance ? Cut off from all hope of royal
clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the
power of England remains, but outlaws? If we
postpone independence, do we mean to carry on or

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICB 403

to give up the war ? Do we mean to submit and
consent that we ourselves shall be ground to powder,
and our cotmtry and its rights trodden down in the
dust? I know we do not mean to submit We
never shall submit. Do we intend to violate that
most solemn obligation ever entered into by men,
that plighting before God of our sacred honor to
Washingfton when, putting him forth to incur the
dangers of war as well as the political hazards of the
times, we promised to adhere to him, in every ex-
tremity, with our fortunes and our lives ? I know
there is not a man here who would not rather see a
general conflagration sweep over the land or an
earthquake sink it than one jot or tittle of that
plighted faith fall to the ground. The war, then,
must go on. We must fight it through. And if the
war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration
of Independence ? That measure will strengthen
us. It will give us character abroad.

If we fail it can be no worse for us. But we shall
not fail. The cause will raise up armies; the cause
will create navies. The people, the people, if we
are true to them, will carry us, and will carry them-
selves, gloriously through this struggle. I care not
how fickle other people have been found. I know
the people of these colonies, and I know that resist-
ance to British aggression is deep and settled in
their hearts and cannot be eradicated. Every
colony, indeed, has expressed its willingness to fol-
low, if we but take the lead. Sir, the Declaration
will inspire the people with increased courage. In-
stead of a long and bloody war for restoration of
privilegesi for redress of grievances, for chartered

40*

CULTIVATION OP THE VOICE

immtmitieB, beld under a British King, set 1
them, the glorious object of entire independence,^
and it will breathe into them anew the breath oi 1
life. Read this Declaration at the head of the army;, .
every sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and J
the solemn tow uttered to maintain it, or to perwl
ish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpitj'
religion will approve it, and the love of reHgiousl
liberty will cling round it, resolved to stand with i
or fall with it. Send it to the public halls; proclaitttJ
it there; let them hear :t who heard the first roar o
the enemy's caanon ; let them see it who saw theix
brothers and their sons fall on the field of Bnnlcerfl
HiH, and in the streets of Lexington and Concord,!
and the very walls will cry out in its support.

Sir, I know the imcertainty of human affairs, bntfl
I see, I see clearly, through this day's business. YoaV
and I indeed may rue it. We may not live to thef
time when this Declaration shall be made good, I
We may die; die colonists; die slaves; die, it may I
be, ignominiously and on the scaffold.
Be it so. If it be the pleasure of heaven that my I
countrj- shall require the poor offering of my life, J
the victim shall be ready at the appointed hour of I
sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while 1 1
do live, let me have a country, or at least the hopafl
of a country, and that a free country.

But whatever may be our fate, be assured, be as* I
sured, that this Declaration will stand. It may cost 1
treasure, and it may cost blood; but it will standi
and it will richly compensate for both. Through i
the thick gloom of the present I see the brightnej
of the future as the sun in heaven. We shall i

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 405

this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in
our graves our children will honor it They will
celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with
bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return
they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of
subjection and slavery, not of agony an4 distress,
but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, be-
fore God, I believe the hour is come. My judgment
approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it.
All that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope
in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it;
and I leave off, as I begun, that, live or die, survive
or perish, I am for the Declaration. It is my living
sentiment, and, by the blessing of God, it shall be
my dying sentiment — independence now; and

INDEPENDENCE FOREVER!

MATTHEW XXV.

THEN shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto
ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went
forth to meet the bridegroom.

And five of them were wise, and five were fool-
ish.

They that were foolish took their lamps, and took
no oil with them.

But the wise took oil in their vessels with their
lamps.

While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered
and slept

DC not enough for us an
them that sell, and buy f

And while they went
came; and they that we
to the marriage : and the

Afterward came also
Lord, Lord, open to us.

But he answered and s;
I know you not.

Watch therefore, for ye
the hour wherein the Son

For the kingdom of hes
into a far country, who caj
delivered unto them his gc

And unto one he gave fi
and to another one ; to ev<
several ability; and straigt

Then he that had recer
and traded with the sam
five talents.

And likewise he that 1

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 407

And 80 he that had received five talents came and
brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou de-
liveredst unto me five talents: behold I have gained
beside them five talents more.

His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and
faithful servant ; thou hast been faithful over a few
things, I will make thee ruler over many things:
enter thou into the joy of thy lord.

He also that had received two talents came and
said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: be-
hold I have gained two other talents beside them.

His lord said unto him. Well done, good and faith-
ful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few
things, I will make thee ruler over many things:
enter thou into the joy of thy lord.

Then he which had received the one talent came
and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard
man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gath-
ering where thou hast not strewed :

And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in
the earth : lo, there thou hast that is thine.

His lord answered and said unto him. Thou wicked
and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where
I sowed not, and gather where I have not strewed :

Thou oughtest therefore to have put my money
to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should
have received mine own with usury.

Take therefore the talent from him, and give it
unto him which hath ten talents.

For unto every one that hath shall be given, and
he shall have abundance: but from him that hath
not shall be taken away even that which he hath.

And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer

4o8 CULTIVATION OF THB VOICK

darkness: there shall be weeping; and gnashing
of teeth.

When the Son of man shall come in His glory,
and all the holy angels with Him, then shall He sit
upon the throne of His glory:

And before Him shall be gathered all nations:
and He shall separate them one from another, as a
shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats:

And He shall set the sheep on His right hand,
but the goats on the left.

Then shall the King say unto them on His right
hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the
kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of
the world:

For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I
was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger
and ye took me in :

Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye
visited me : I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

Then shall the righteous answer Him, saying,
Lord, when saw we Thee an hungered, and fed
Thee? or thirsty, and gave Thee drink?

When saw we Thee a stranger, and took Thee in?
or naked, and clothed Thee>

Or when saw we Thee sick, or in prison, and
came unto Thee?

And the King shall answer and say unto them,
Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it
unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have
done it unto me.

Then shall He say also unto them on the left
hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting
fire, prepared for the devil and his angels :

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 409

For I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat:
I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink:

I was a stranger, and ye took me not in: naked
and ye clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye
visited me not

Then shall they also answer Him, saying. Lord,
when saw we The.e an hungered, or athirst, or a
stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not
minister unto Thee?

Then shall He answer them, saying. Verily I say
unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the
least of these, ye did it not to me.

And these shall go away into everlasting punish-
ment: but the righteous into life eternal.

THE RETURN OP RIP VAN WINKLE

HE HAD now entered the skirts of the village. A
troop of strange children ran at his heels, hoot-
ing after him, and pointing at his gray beard. The
dogs, too, not one of which he recognized for an
old acquaintance, barked at him as he passed. The
very village was altered, it was larger and more
populous. There were rows of houses which he
had never seen before, and those which had been his
familiar haunts had disappeared. Strange names
were over the doors — stranger faces at the windows
— everything was strange. His mind now misgave
him ; he began to doubt whether both he and the
world around him were not bewitched. Surely this

4IO CULTIVATION OP THB VOICB

was his native village, which he had left but the
day before. There stood the Catskill monntains

— there ran the silver Hudson at a distance — there
was every hill and dale precisely as it had always
been — Rip was sorely perplexed — •That flagon
last night,* thought he, *has addled my poor head
sadly I ^

It was with some diflSculty that he found the way
to his own house, which he approached with silent
awe, expecting every moment to hear the shrill
voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house
gone to decay — the roof fallen in, the windows
shattered, and the doors off the hinges. A half-
starved dog that looked like Wolf was skulking
about it. Rip called him by name, but the cur
snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on. This was
an unkind cut indeed — • My very dog, • sighed poor
Rip, * has forgotten mc ! •

He entered the house, which, to tell the truth,
Dame Van Winkle had always kept in neat order.
It was empty, forlorn, and apparently abandoned.
This desolateness overcame all his connubial fears

— he called loudly for his wife and children — the
lonely chambers rang for a moment with his voice,
and then all again was silence.

He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old
resort, the village inn — but it too was gone. A
large, rickety wooden building stood in its place,
with great gaping windows, some of them broken
and mended with old hats and petticoats, and over
the door was painted, ^ The Union Hotel, by Jona-
than Doolittle.* Instead of the great tree that used
: the quiet little Dutch inn of yore, there

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 411

now was reared a tall, naked pole, with something
on the top that looked like a red night-cap, and from
it was fluttering a flag, on which was a singular as-
semblage of stars and stripes — all this was strange
and incomprehensible. He recognized on the sign,
however, the ruby face of King George, under
which he had smoked so many a peaceful pipe; but
even this was singularly metamorphosed. The red
coat was changed for one of blue and buff, a sword
was held in the hand instead of a sceptre, the head
was decorated with a cocked hat, and underneath was
painted in large characters, • General Washington. •

There was, as usual, a crowd of folk about the
door, but none that Rip recollected. The very
character of the people seemed changed. There
was a busy, bustling, disputatious tone about it, in-
stead of the accustomed phlegm and drowsy tran-
quillity. He looked in vain for the sage Nicholas
Vedder, with his broad face, double chin, and fair
long pipe, uttering clouds of tobacco smoke instead
of idle speeches; or Van Bummel, the schoolmas-
ter, doling forth the contents of an ancient news-
paper. In place of these, a lean, bilious-looking
fellow, with his pockets full of handbills, was ha-
ranguing vehemently about rights of citizens — elec-
tions — members of Congress — liberty — Bunker's
Hill — heroes of Seventy-Six — and other words,
which were a perfect Babylonish jargon to the be-
wildered Van Winkle.

The appearance of Rip, with his long, grizzled
beard, his rusty fowling-piece, his uncouth di
and an army of women and children at his
soon attracted UMjf^&tion of the tavern polil

CULTIVATION OP THR VOXCB

They crowded round him, eyeing him from head to
foot with great curiosity. The orator bnstled up to
him, and drawing him partly aside, inquired ^on
which side he voted ? * Rip stared in vacant stupid-
ity. Another short but busy little fellow pulled
him by the arm, and rising on tiptoe, inquired in
his ear, * whether he was Federal or Democrat ? *
Rip was equally at a loss to comprehend the ques-
tion; when a knowing, self-important old gentle-
man, in a sharp cocked hat, made his way through
the crowd, putting them to the right and left with
his elbows as he passed, and planting himself before
Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the other rest-
ing on his cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat pene-
trating, as it were, into his very soul, demanded, in
an austere tone, what brought him to the election
with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels,
and whether he meant to breed a riot in the vil-
lage?

*Alas! gentlemen,* cried Rip, somewhat dis-
mayed, *I am a poor, quiet man, a native of the
place and a loyal subject of the King-, God bless
him!*

Here a general shout burst from the by-standers
— •A tory! a tory! a spy! a refugee! hustle him!
away with him!* It was with great difficulty that
the self-important man in the cocked hat restored
order; and having assumed a tenfold austerity of
brow, demanded again of the unknown culprit, what
he came there for, and whom he was seeking ? The
poor man humbly assured him that he meant no
harm, but merely came there in search of some of
his neighbors, who used to keep about the tavern.

SELBCnOKS FOR PRACTICK 413

•Well, who are they? Name them.* Rip be-
thought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's
Nicholas Vedder i " There was a silence for a little
while, when an old man replied, in a thin, piping
voice, ' Nicholas Vedder ! why, he is dead and gone
these eighteen years! There was a wooden tomb-
stone in the churchyard that used to tell all about
him, but that's rotten and gone too. *

* Where's Brom Dutcher t *

* Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of
the war; some say he was killed at the storming of.
Stony Point — others say he was drowned in a squall
at the foot of Anton3r's Nose. I don't know — he
never came back again.*

"Where's Van Bummel, the schoolmaster?*

* He went off to the wars, too, was a great militia
general, and is now in Congress.*

Rip's heart died away at hearing of these sad
changes in his home and friends, and finding him-
self dius alone in the world. Every answer puz-
zled him too, by treating of such enormons lapses
of time, and of matters which he could not nader-
stand: war — Congress — Stony Point; — he had no
courage to ask after any more friends, but cried out
in despair, * Does nobody here know Rip Van Win-
kle ? » • Oh, Rip Van Winkle ! * exclaimed two or
three; * Oh, to be sure! that's Rip Van Winkle yon-
der, leaning against the tree. *

Rip looked, and beheld a precise connterpart of
himself, as he went up the mountain : apparently as
lazy, and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was
now completely confounded. He doubbHL.^ °^"^

414

CULTIVATION OP THB VOICE

identity, and whether he was himself or another
man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man
in the cocked hat demanded who be was, and what
was his name ?

" God knows," exclaimed he, at his wifs end; ■ I
am not myself — I'm somebody else — that's me
yonder — no — that's somebody else got into my
shoes — I was myself last night, but I fell asleep on
the mountain, and they've changed my gun, and
everything's changed, and I'm changed, and I can't
tell what's my name, or who I am! '

The by-standers began now to look at each other,
nod. wink significantly, and tap their fingers against
their foreheads. There was a whisper, also, about
securing the gun, and keeping the old fellow from
doing mischief, at the very suggestion of which
the self-important man in the cocked hat retired
with some precipitation. At this critical moment a
fresh, comely woman pressed through the throng to
get a peep at the gray-bearded man. She had a
chubby child in her arms, which, frightened at his
looks, began to cry. "Hush, Rip," cried she,
"hush, you little fool; the old man won't hurt you.*
The name of the child, the air of the mother, the
tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollec-
tions in his mind. "What is your name, my good
woman ? " asked he.

"Judith Gardenier.*

"And your father's name?*

"Ah! poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name,
but it's twenty years since he went away from home
with his gun, and never has been heard of since —

SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 415

his dog came home without him ; but whether he
shot himself, or was carried away by the Indians,
nobody can tell. I was then but a little girl. •

Rip had but one more question to ask; but he put
it with a faltering voice : —

• Where's your mother ? •

^ Oh, she too had died but a short time since; she
broke a blood-vessel in a fit of passion at a New
England peddler. •

There was a drop of comfort, at least, in this in-
telligence. The honest man could contain himself
no longer. He caught his daughter and her child
in his arms. •! am your father i* cried he —
•young Rip Van Winkle once — old Rip Van Win-
kle now! Does nobody know poor Rip Van Win-
kle?*

All stood amazed, until an old woman, tottering
out from among the crowd, put her hand to her
brow, and peering imder it in his face for a mo-
ment, exclaimed, • Sure enough ! it is Rip Van
Winkle — it is himself! Welcome home again, old
neighbor. Why, where have you been these twenty
long years ? *

— Washington iRviNa

UNE UEPICAL UBRASV

^IJSA r — ■- -'T'

1424

L67

1«02

Lewis, G.A. 14S23r

The praotioal treat- t_
fflent of stameriiig - i_

"A^ Lewis. AnduUie k
cultivation of the ~

Toioe :; Ty synsou.