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Wm. b. chamberlain, a. m. 





Copyright, 1892, 




THIS book is an outgrowth of practical class-room 
work. It is an effort to strengthen that work by furnish- 
ing a basis for pursuing elocution as a study. This it 
attempts to do by giving some definite statement of 
the principles that govern the mental processes of com- 
munication. Heretofore, too generally, the physical 
has led, instead of the mental. Elocution has been 
treated as if the materials of the science were tone and 
action. These are simply its tools. 

The design has been so to present the subject that 
the student should have a definite thing to do each 
day; should be able to have a lesson assigned, to 
prepare that lesson, and to bring into class the results 
of his work upon it, as definitely as in any other study. 
Our elocutionary work in schools and colleges has been > 
for the most part, a I ittle class-room drill, interspersed with 
a few general hints and seed thoughts regarding expres- 
sion. We have always said "Be flexible," " Be erect," 
"Let your bearing and gesture be expressive," etc.; 
but since Delsarte has shown us a rationale of bearing 
and gesture, we are able to substitute definite teaching 
— i. e., method — for general exhortation. Likewise we 
have said " Get the meaning," " Absorb the thought," 
"Realize the sense," without showing definite means 
for doing this obviously necessary thing. What is 


here proposed is some approach to a method for cul- 
tivating the thought-absorbing powers, in such a way 
as to connect them directly with the outward channels 
of expression. 

The object in presenting this part of the work as a 
study, is something broader and deeper than the secur- 
ing of an external delivery for the individual student. It 
is hoped that the principles underlying the art of vocal 
expression will be found to offer true discipline, and to 
furnish their quota of material for a liberal training. 

The expressional analysis here undertaken is designed 
to supplement rhetorical analysis, forming a sort of 
cross-plowing and subsoiling of literary and rhetorical 
study. As it regards literature the attention is here 
given to the motive rather than the method, to mental 
processes rather than thought-products. 

A few points may here be suggested as to ways in 
which this subject may be made a genuine study. 

First. Principles of analysis and expression must be 
so distinctly and fully stated and so thoroughly illus- 
trated that the student shall have firm footing to go 
upon. This involves careful work on the part of the 
teacher in presenting each new point. It is assumed 
that the teacher is an intelligent and sympathetic 
reader, — a literary interpreter, though he need not be 
a great vocal artist. His chief business is to indoctri- 
nate his students in principles of interpretation 
which shall give them a rational basis for criticism. 
No " rules" are here imposed. Principles must govern. 


Second. When the principle in question has been 
reasonably well apprehended, a lesson should be as- 
signed that will test the student's ability to apply the 
principle to new cases. As a rule there should always 
be required written translations or paraphrases, which 
shall reveal the logical analysis and the literary or 
artistic interpretation. Mere taste or feeling must not 
be accepted as a standard. These will afterwards come 
to assert themselves all the more effectually, if at first 
they are made amenable to reason. In this stage, 
therefore, there must necessarily be much patient toil 
on the part of both teacher and student; even to those 
well trained in general principles of language and in 
formal rhetoric this field of expressional analysis will 
be essentially a new one. The teacher should often 
point out, and should encourage students to find, rela- 
tions between the rhetoric of the voice and that of 
the page. It will often be found that vocal interpreta- 
tion is more exact than the forms of expression and 
interpretation with which the student has previously 
been familiar. The new point of view will often put 
things in a different light, or in another perspective. 
Principal and subordinate may seem to change places; 
inflection and grouping will be found of more impor- 
tance than punctuation; transition and proposition will 
sometimes supersede paragraphing; infelicities of diction, 
especially as to euphony and sentence-structure, will oc- 
casionally reveal themselves, even in the best of writings 
that have not been tested by the ear; standards of taste 


will begin to change, or rather will be challenged for 
their justification; models that have been accepted as 
faultless by an unquestioning traditionalism may appear 
less glorious, while subtile beauties may be discovered 
in fields heretofore overlooked. 

All these changes require time and the patience of 
enthusiasm. It is in this stage of the study that its 
rational basis is found, and, its vital connection with 
literature and philosophy most plainly indicated. Ex- 
perience shows that the most natural and useful place 
for this study in the college curriculum, is between 
rhetoric on the one hand, and literature on the other. 
It makes a finer and more practical test of the one, and 
becomes a most useful implement for the other. 

Some minds incline to analysis more than to synthe- 
sis; others are impatient of explanations and are anx- 
ious to realize the artistic results of a method. We 
must be careful, on the one hand, not to waste time by 
needless speculation, and, on the other hand, not to en- 
danger all our future work by hastily laid and insuffi- 
cient foundations. 

Third, After the principles have come into the 
student's possession by this process of independent 
testing, they must be corroborated, modified, and vital- 
ized by abundant practice. Much longer passages may 
now be assigned; lengthy discussions on the given 
principles have now become needless, and may give 
place to enlarged application. When differences of 
judgment occur, they can often be settled, as far as it 


is possible to settle them, by taking the sense of the 
class. The teacher must always be ready to give a 
prompt, and of course an independent, decision; but it 
should be understood that his word is a "ruling," 
rather than a dictation or an ex cathedra deliverance. 
It is never designed to silence the pupil, but always to 
enlighten and assist him. Independence of judgment 
on the part of the student must by all means be en- 
couraged. Agreement with others, even with the best 
critics, is not the desideratum for the student. If he 
does not learn to exercise his own powers of insight 
and judgment, the study will but enslave him the more 
to arbitrary standards. No discouragement should be 
felt, if at first the principles seem difficult of applica- 
tion, or if rulings under them often appear inconsistent. 
Many points will become clear by repeated exemplifica- 
tion. Caution needs to be used not to allow a hasty 
judgment, once taken, to color or neutralize rational 
considerations that may afterward be adduced. 

It may be objected that if there can be no demon- 
strated or authoritative rendering which must be ac- 
cepted, there is no positive teaching. The ready 
answer is, that in all work which seeks to cultivate the 
judgment, individuality and independence must be sa- 
credly respected. Students will and do appreciate this 
method of work and this standard of criticism; and, if 
carefully watched, it need produce no laxness in the 
class-room drill. Extempore recitations will not often 
be attempted; the difference between a guess and a 


defensible independent interpretation soon becomes as 
apparent as that between an improvised and a prepared 
translation in any other language. 

It is supposed that the teacher will have prepared 
himself on each lesson as he would in any similar study. 
He will not, however, give his rulings on the basis of 
his own interpretation alone, but will be prompt in see- 
ing and cordial in accepting any other reasonable and 
tenable interpretation. This will require, on the part of 
the teacher, a fullness of knowledge and an alertness of 
attention that will of themselves do much to impart 
life and power to the recitation. 

With classes well prepared in rhetoric and in an ele- 
mentary course of gesture and vocal culture, the work 
given in this volume may be quite well done in twelve 
to fourteen weeks of daily work. It will be found, 
however, that a review of these principles at a later 
point, and especially in connection with private lessons, 
will often yield to the individual student even more of 
suggestiveness and help than have been found in the 
term of study. 

While, then, it is not for a moment supposed that 
this analytic study of expression will produce the artistic 
results aimed at in the personal criticism and the more 
synthetic method of private lessons, it is yet believed that 
the treatment of the subject herein attempted may se- 
cure the twofold object of general discipline and imme- 
diate practical utility, in connection with the related 
subjects of rhetoric and literature. 


It is not to be thought that the work here outlined 
must be wholly theoretical. The fact that some one ele- 
ment of expression is the special object of illustration 
in any given lesson, only makes the drill the more in- 
tensive. It is especially recommended that each chap- 
ter, and, in cases where the need is greater, each section, 
be thus made the basis of practical drill in expression, 
both by reading and by declaiming or reciting short 
extracts. These extracts should be taken either from 
entire articles or from long selections that have been 
analyzed by the class, or else from sources perfectly 
familiar to all. Otherwise there will be no good basis 
for interpretation or for criticism. 

This does not profess to be a treatise on vocal cul- 
ture. That topic, however, has not been entirely neg- 
lected. The chapter on Vocal Technique is thought 
to give as minute and extended directions as will be 
practical to the ordinary non-professional student. 
These exercises need, of course, to be abundantly illus- 
trated and thoroughly enforced by constant and pro- 
tracted drill. Most of the passages quoted throughout 
the book, in illustration of rhetorical principles, may 
also be used to enforce the elements of vocal culture. 

Parts of the chapter on Vocal Technique may be 
studied before taking up the work as a w T hole in order 
to secure a better basis for drill in voice-culture. In 
that case it should be carefully reviewed when reached 
in its connection, and the parts that were at first omitted 
should now be thoroughly studied, that the student 


may see the true relations between the physical and the 
psychical. Vocal culture is introduced after expres- 
sional analysis, in the systematic treatment of the 
subject, for a definite reason. It is believed that the 
physical side of the work can be studied most profita- 
bly after the mental. By this it is, of course, not 
intended to maintain that one shall have no knowledge 
of voice at an earlier stage — the more the better — but 
the refinement of vocal action itself can be secured 
only by the trained mind. Thought must lead, and 
must dominate the utterance. The body is the servant 
of the soul. It is assumed that before reaching the 
point in college or seminary at which this analysis of 
the properties of thought as related to utterance will 
be most useful, the student will have had some training 
in the use of voice and in the management of the entire 
body for the purposes of expression. 

This is not a work on orthoepy. The elements of 
the language are supposed to have been mastered, so 
far as a student in college needs them; and for the use 
of tochers there are abundant and valuable works on 
this subject. 

It has not been designed to make this a reader, in the 
ordinary sense. Hence there will not be found in this 
book illustrations of exercises designed for practice in 
the elements of articulation and the simpler forms of 
word-calling. It is lamentably true that many students 
enter college, and are graduated therefrom, who cannot 
pronounce words fluently. For such this book does 


not propose any remedy, except that which may be 
indirectly given through stimulating the mind to the 
better grasp and measurement of thought. 

Again, it has not been thought needful to fill this 
little volume with choice extracts from literature; a few 
are introduced for purposes of immediate illustration. 
Fine collections of extracts from the masterpieces are 
accessible to all; and any of these may be used in con- 
nection with this work. However, in this day of cheap 
publications, when an entire oration of one of the great 
masters, a complete play of Shakespeare, or a whole 
essay of Carlyle or Macaulay, may be purchased for a 
few cents, it is more advisable that the student should 
provide himself with these complete works to accom- 
pany a guide in the study of delivery. In our judg- 
ment, much harm has been done and much hard work 
wasted, in the attempt to teach expression through 
short, detached extracts, — mere fragments of a self- 
consistent whole. The broader analysis of the entire 
article or speech must precede any intelligent and val- 
uable study of its choicest passages. 

The author's classes have found much valuable ma- 
terial for the study of vocal expression in Genung's 
Handbook of Rhetorical Analysis. Extracts even bet- 
ter for our special purpose can be found; and it is hoped 
that this analysis of rhetorical and vocal expression 
may soon be followed by a companion book, giving 
selections especially favorable for this kind of work. 

Gesture is not fully treated here. Others have de- 


veloped, and are developing, that department of the 
work. Assuming some technical practice on the basis 
of other text-books, or of instruction accompanied by- 
living example, this book contents itself with a few 
hints on Gesture as Figurative Language. 

Some repetitions will be observed in these pages. 
In practical work students need to have certain funda- 
mental things kept constantly before them; and this is 
a student's manual. The writer feels himself the 
teacher, who is talking with his pupils, and repeating 
when necessary. 

In the preparation of such a work many sources of 
help and inspiration must be acknowledged. The author 
desires to make special mention of two of his teachers: 
the late Madame Seiler, whose personal instruction 
in the singing voice has been of the greatest assistance 
in formulating the technique of speech; and Professor 
S. S. Curry, Ph. D., of the School of Expression, 
Boston, whose class-room expositions of the Delsarte 
philosophy are very helpful, especially in applying the 
principles of pantomimic training to rhetorical delivery. 
Mention should also be made of Professor G. L. Ray- 
mond's work, entitled "The Orator's Manual," and 
of Professor A. M. Bacon's " Manual of Gesture," 
which books it has been the author's privilege to use 
in his classes, and which he commends, for preparation 
and comparison, to students who shall use this book. 

The chief inspiration has been drawn from those for 
whom, especially, this work has been undertaken. The 


main ideas of the present volume were presented to 
the author's own students in the Spring of 1888. The 
work has therefore been tested by actual use, and has 
had the benefit of criticism from those for whom it was 
designed and from many others. 

It is not supposed that the present edition is free 
from defects, nor is it thought that the subject has here 
attained a complete and symmetrical, or even a wholly 
self-consistent, development. The last word on this 
broad and subtile theme of expression will never be 
uttered. It is hoped, however, that there is here pre- 
sented a rational, comprehensible, and fairly consistent 
method of expressional analysis, which may stimulate 
deeper and more successful study in this most fruitful 

It is sometimes said that the age of oratory is past. 
Our own belief is that there never was a time in the 
history of the world when more people were influenced 
by public speech than to-day. Oratory is not dead. 
It may take on new forms and manifestations of life; 
its methods may change. We are not in these days so 
much thrilled by the extraordinary or tickled by the 
artificial. The conversational, the simple, the direct, is 
now accepted as the normal; and this is a sign of 
health in the popular taste. It indicates that the great 
mass of listeners are exercising, as never before, a whole- 
some criticism upon public speakers, and that there is 
a naturalness of approach, a community of interest, 
between orator and audience. These facts seem to us 


to justify the analytic study of oratory as one of the 
departments of liberal culture. The mountain peak 
does not rise from a low plain; nor does lofty and 
noble eloquence rise from the dead level of an unap- 
preciative and unsympathetic populace. The scientific 
and critical spirit of our day cannot destroy, it will 
only rationalize and refine and elevate, this most prac- 
tical, most popular, and at the same time noblest, of 
the arts. The greatest questions in statesmanship, 
sociology, philanthropy, and religion are pressing upon 
us; nor will they be settled by the pen alone. The 
human voice is the great instrument for the communi- 
cation of practical and vital truth. Furthermore, it is 
not alone in oratoric or forensic use that this divine gift 
of speech finds its justification and makes its appeal. 
The uses of a clear, discriminating, sympathetic, and 
ennobled style of conversation are as varied as are the 
interests of human life. 

For orator and listener, for teacher and taught, for 
every citizen and every member of society, something 
of real and practical value may be gained from a study 
of the properties of thought as related to utterance. 




Psychology 1 and Physiology; Physical Advantages Conceded; 
Thought through Tone; Place of this Study in the Course; 
Thought in Process of Communication; Addressed to Ear; 
Modifies Written Thought; Effect on Structure; Additional 
Matter Implied; Speaker's Relation to Thought; Proofs 
of Relation between Matter and Manner; Formation of Hab- 
its; Reciprocal Action of Mind and Body; Technique of 
Expression ;*Mental Must Lead; Divisions of the Subject 1-15 



Predominant Purpose; The Moods Named; Differences between 
Deliberation and Discrimination; General Pantomimic Ex- 
pression; Final and Immediate Purposes; Analysis of 
Antony's Address; Analysis of 1 Corinthians xv. ; Direc- 
tions for Practice in Discerning Moods . . 16—28 



Interpretation the Purpose in all Expression; General Idea of 
Paraphrasing; Subjective Paraphrasing; Objective Para- 
phrasing; Expansive Paraphrasing; Condensative Para- 
phrasing; Elliptical Paraphrase; Metaphrase . 29^53 




Definition; General Means of Expressing; Divisions of Delib- 
erative Matter ..... 54 



Explanatory; Adaptive; Conciliatory; Incentive. Movement 

in Introductory Matter .... 55—58 



Formal Propositions; Definitive Propositions; Weighty Propo- 
sitions. Movement and Tone in Propositional Matter 59-63 



Nature and Rhetorical Requirements of Transition; Movement 

in Transition ..... 64-68 



Principle of Pause; Places for Pause; Grammatical Groupings; 
Rhetorical or Elliptical Pauses; Prosodial Groupings; Eu- 
phonic or Rhythmic Groupings in Prose . 69-85 




Definition; General Means of Expressing . . 86-87 




Completeness. — Finality; Momentary Completeness; Inflection 
for Completeness. Grammatical and Formal Incompleteness. 
Subordination; Slides of Subordination; Paraphrase for 
Subordination. Anticipation; Slides of Anticipation; Par- 
aphrase for Anticipation. Paraphrase for Momentary 
Completeness and Logical Incompleteness. Indirect and 
Inferential Forms of Incompleteness. Negation; Slides of 
Negation; Paraphrase for Negation. Doubt, Hesitation or 
Uncertainty; Suspension of Inflection; Paraphrase for 
Doubt. Interrogation; Interrogative Inflections; Restate- 
ment to Test Figurative Interrogation. Supplication; Par- 
aphrase for Supplication; Supplicatory Tones . 88-115 



Assumption Defined; Assertion Defined; Continuative Falling 
Slide; Paraphrase to Reveal Assumption and Assertion Em- 
ploying Inversion ..... 1 16-125 



Comparison or Contrast with Affirmation; Falling Circum- 
flex. Comparison or Contrast with Incompleteness; The 
Wave. Affirmation with Incompleteness; Rising Cir- 
cumflex. Complex Relations Paraphrased by Separating 
Component parts; Conclusion to Part I.; General Direc- 
tions ....... 126-139 



Emotion as a Mood of Utterance; Relations of Emotion to the 
Other Moods; General Means of Expressing; General Idea 
of Paraphrasing for Emotion . . . 140-146 




Relations to the Intellectual Element; Objective and Subjective 
Elements in Paraphrase for this Type; Normal Tone-Qual- 
ity; how secured and preserved . . . 147-159 



Includes What; Relation to Normal; Expanded Pure Tone; How 

Secured; Paraphrase for Deepened Feeling . . 160-167 



Hush of Quiet, Tenderness, Solemnity. Exhaustion, Weari- 
ness, Lassitude. Secrecy or Fear. Intensity. Pantomimic 
Conditions for Suppressed Feeling. Subdued or Aspirated 
Tone; Paraphrase for Suppressed Feeling . 168-173 



Legitimate Oratorical and Conversational Uses; Personation; 

The Hard or Tense Voice; Paraphrase for Stern Feeling 174-187 



Deep Feelings — Awe, Solemnity, Amazement. Milder forms, — 
Reverence, Meditation, Wonder. Abnormal and Theat- 
rical. Relations to Pantomimic Expression; The Sombre 
or "Pectoral" Quality; Legitimate Uses in Conversa- 
tion and Oratory; in Personation; Paraphrase mainly Sub- 
jective and Expansive, or Elliptical . . 188-192 



Merriment, Laughter, Glee. Pity, Grief, Tenderness; Com- 
passion. The "Vibrato" or Tremulous Quality; Rela- 
tions to Pantomimic Condition; Paraphrase; Conclusion to 
Emotion — Caution .... 193-201 




Definition; Relation to the Other Moods; General Means of 

Paraphrasing for Energy . • 202-20S 



Didactic Impulse. Impulse of Decision. Arbitrary or Im- 
pulsive Command. Volition Prompted by Surprise. Vo- 
lition Prompted by Petulance, Impatience or Uncon- 
trolled Anger. Initial Stress; Pantomimic Expression of 
Abrupt Energy; Paraphrase for Abruptness . 209-212: 



Settled Determination. Authoritative Utterance, Dignified Re- 
proof or Official Statement. Final Stress; Pantomimic 
Expression of Insistence; Paraphrase for Insistence 213-21& 



Encouragement; Stimulation to the Good and Noble. Adora- 
tion, with Volitional Impulse. Admiration, with Voli- 
tional Impulse; Joy or Exultation, with Volitional Impulse. 
Median Stress; Pantomimic Conditions; Paraphrase for 
this Type of Energy , 219-226 



Sustained and Elevated Energy; Dignity and Weight; Thor- 
ough Stress; Pantomimic Condition; Paraphrase . 227-230 



Legitimate Uses, under Powerful Emotions; Abnormal; Per- 


turbed, Shocked, Uncontrolled; Compound Stress; Panto- 
mimic Condition; Paraphrase, Subjective; Rhetorical 
Figures; Conclusion to Part III. . . . 231-235 



Mutual Relations of the General and the Particular . 236-237 



General Effects of Tempo; Slow; Rapid; Movement as Related 
to Deliberation; Movement as Related to Discrimination; 
Movement as Related to Emotion; Movement as Related 
to Energy ...... 238-242 



General Remarks; Relations of Prose Rhythm and Verse; 
Kinds of Verse — Trochaic; Iambic; Dactylic; Anapestic; 
Amphibrachic; Spondaic. Significance of these Kinds of 
Verse; Relations to Forms of Stress; Classification of 
Prose Rhythms. Abrupt; Insistent; Gliding. Weighty. 
Order of Study and Illustrations; Analysis of Hamlet's 
Advice to the Players; Rhythm an Element in Interpreta- 
tion; Passages suggested for Analysis . . 243-263 



Effect of High Keys; Effect of Medium Keys; Effect of Low 
Keys; Keys of Different Voices; Significance of Intervals. 
Small Diatonic; Large or Wide Diatonic. Minor; Chro- 
matic ..... . 264-281 




Tone-Qualities in Broadest Sense, as applying to a Character or 
a Passage; Special Qualities and Vowel Tunings; Temper- 
ing or Coloring of Vowels .... 282-289 


Distinction Between General and Particular. — General Abrupt 
Force; General Insistent or Cumulative Force; General 
Expanding or Ennobling Force; General Sustained Force; 
General Force of Violence or Rage. Relations of General 
Force to Stress and Emphasis in Diction . . 290-292 



Intellectual Type; Imaginative and ^Esthetic; Impassioned; 

Dialectic. Relations of Expression and Memory 293-298 



Broad and Narrow Senses. — Proofs of the Relation of Ges- 
ture to Thought. Observation; Inquiry; Literature; In- 
stinct. Subjective Properties of Action; Objective Proper- 
ties of Action; Classes of Gestures. Literal or Physical; 
Metaphorical; Ideal Presence; Intensity. Pantomimic Par- 
aphrase ...... 2 99~3 7 



Definitions and Artistic Relations; Table of Organs, Condi- 
tions, Properties and Exercises. Chest — Poise; Stretch- 
ing of Chest; Arm Movements; Expansion of Parts; 


Percussion; Breathings; Counting; Sentences and Passages 
in Different Moods. Throat — Relaxation; Shaking of 
Larynx; Initial k; "Koo" in Even Notes; "Koo" in Trip- 
lets; Passages in Different Rhythms. Jaw — Drop; Shake; 
Sing Even Notes and Triplets; Selections in Varied 
Rhythms. Tongue — Tip to Teeth; Depressed; Yawn; 
Sing ah; Combine with Previous Exercises. Oral Cavity — 
Place Tongue and Hum; Give Typical Vowels; Semi-Vowel 
Consonants; Poetry. Vocal Chords — Long and Short Hum; 
Short Vowels; Musical Exercises. Articulating Organs — 
Lip Stroke for Labials; Lip Stroke for w; Stroke for f; 
Tongue Stroke for t; Tongue Stroke for I; Front or Lin- 
gual r; Combinations. Abdominal Muscles — Classes: 
Right, Oblique, and Transverse; Uses: Vocal and Vital; 
Directions for Training .... 3°8-353 



Relations of Criticism to Science and Art; Kinds of Criti- 
cism — Popular; Technical; Individuality in Expression; 
Objective Properties of Delivery; Subjective Properties 
of Delivery; Purpose and Paraphrase in Criticism 354-3^0 




What a piece of work is man! 

— Hamlet II., 2. 

VOCAL EXPRESSION has obvious relations with psy- 
chology, and with physiology. Speech occupies the 
meeting ground of the mental and the physical. The 
laws of thought as related to utterance might be consid- 
ered a form of applied psychology; and the action of 
body and voice in connection with the highest function 
of a rational being, communication of thought, must be 
considered one of the noblest and finest departments 
of physical activity. On both sides its connections, 
when fully traced, involve much of delicate and pains- 
taking research; yet, its practical nature and its univer- 
sal application make many elements of the subject 
appear so perfectly obvious and commonplace, that it 
is often found difficult to gain for it that attention which 
its merits demand. 

The physical preparation for speech brings with it 
advantages so apparent that it is scarcely necessary to 
designate its place in a course of practical training, or 
invite attention to its aims and to the benefits which 
it confers. Grace and suitability of action, purity, ease, 
fullness and variety of tone, and the incidental benefits 


to respiration, circulation, and general physical vigor — 
all these have of late years been made so familiar to 
us, and are so palpably reasonable, that it has become 
almost a work of supererrogation to press their claims. 

Not quite so clear or tangible are the place and claim 
of the other branch of the elocutionary art — the anal- 
ysis of thought through tone. 

Considered by itself, it is one of the departments of 
the study of language, and might find a place and yield 
some benefit at almost any point after structure of 
sentences has been mastered. Its benefits will be much 
greater when the student has gained some knowledge 
of formal Rhetoric, and has begun, at least, to appre- 
ciate the literary spirit. It will yield its finest and full- 
est fruits in a mind thoroughly cultivated by a variety 
of studies, broadened and quickened by experience of 
men and affairs, mellowed by human sympathies, in- 
spired and elevated by noble purposes. 

Practically it is best to begin the study early in the 
college course. 

It is for the present assumed that this subject has 
the most natural connection with rhetorical and literary 
studies, and it is hoped the considerations here pre- 
sented will justify this view. 

Observe, first, a few general facts regarding expres- 
sion, and later, some of a more particular nature. 

I. Elocution, or oral expression, presupposes, of 


course, some thought to be expressed.- Delivery does not 
make thought, nor in any sense supply its place. Those 
entertainments which consist of a display of voice and 
gesture, of dramatic representation and startling stage 
effects, may be elocutionary in a sense, but do not be- 
long to that which is of interest to thinking men with 
something to say. Agreeable sounds and combina- 
tions of sound are not the end in speech, even in the 
sense in which they are such in music. Neither amuse- 
ment nor aesthetic satisfaction meets the requirements 
of rhetorical deliver}'. 

Elocution regards first of all the thought and 
views the thought as being in the process of com- 
munication. In order to be communicated it must 
first be formulated in the mind of the thinker, i. e., pre- 
pared for statement, with regard always (a) to the in- 
trinsic properties of the thought^ (b) to the speaker's 
subjective relation to the thought, and fc) to his pur- 
pose to produce a given effect upon the mind addressed. 
It is thus, primarily, objective rather than subjective. 
It conforms itself to the principles of logic and of 
rhetoric, not to the whim or feeling of the speaker. It 
is a matter of thought-measurement , and of adaptation 
of means to end. 

2. Vocal Expression regards the thought as ad- 
dressed to the ear ; hence it employs as its media 
all the varied properties of tone through which the hu- 
man mind can reveal itself, giving a wider range of means 
than writing — all that writing can give and much more. 


Elocution, then, in the best sense, is the study of 
thought in its connection with vocal expression, or of 
thought through tone. 

3. Observe two general ways in which vocalized 
thought modifies written thought. These will 
give us a better notion of the vital connection between 
elocution and rhetoric. 

A. Vocal utterance often produces changes in the 
structure itself. 

The ear can receive but one word at a time, while 
the eye can take in a group of words, often an entire 
sentence, at one glance. 

The attention of the listener is carried steadily 
forward, as fast or as slowly as the speaker may choose 
to move. 

The silent reader, on the other hand, is free to pause 
and cast his eye back over the preceding sentence, par- 
agraph, or page, and so gather up the thought anew at 
every difficult junction; or he may go as rapidly as pos- 
sible, not stopping for any reflection or review. Pauses 
there may be, indeed, in oral delivery, but they can be 
utilized by the listener only through an effort of mem- 
ory, recalling and combining. Listening to speech is 
like reading from a book held by another person who 
should uncover one word or phrase at a time, and at 
every pause shut the volume before you. Think how 
much more mental effort would thus be required, and 
how much more simple, straightforward, and logically 
progressive must be the style in order to be retained in 


your mind. A diffusive, involved style, if it should be 
so read, piecemeal, would baffle almost ally attempt. 
If ever a person does attempt to speak in such a dif- 
fusive style, his listeners usually get only a general and 
confused idea of his meaning. Such productions — 
virtual!}' essays — are, it is true, often delivered as ora- 
tions in college exercises and, rarely, from the literary 
platform, but they always seem vague, distant, and com- 
plicated. They never have the telling force of direct, 
sententious talk. 

The essay style in sacred eloquence has done much 
to remove the pulpit from the pews. Such direct and 
simple style as that employed by Finney, Spurgeon, 
Talmage, Moody, whatever defects it may possess, al- 
ways stands out clear and strong, and produces a 
marked effect. It is not to be thought that the essay 
or lecture style has no place in public address, or that 
the extempore method is always most effective. There 
are great dangers connected with the so-called "off- 
hand" style, dangers which a habit of careful writing 
will avert. All that is claimed here is that the limited 
receiving capacity of the ear reacts upon style favor- 
ably, demanding clearness, conciseness, directness, logi- 
cal sequence: and that it economizes the receptive en- 
ergy in cases that must employ a more difficult style. 
What lawyer dares to read an essay to a jury, or to talk 
in an elaborate, intricate style? On the other hand if 
the necessities of the thought do require a more in- 
volved style of writing, delivery can compensate for 


this by more skillful grouping of phrases and clauses, 
by significant inflections, and especially by variations 
in the rate of utterance. 

The student should train himself in two things, (i) to 
hear as many words as possible with one mental effort, 
grouping and arranging while he listens, (2) to regulate 
his writing by mentally hearing (or actually speaking) 
every sentence as it flows from the pen. The ear thus 
sits as a "governor" on a steam engine " regulating the 
supply of steam according to the resistance to be over- 

B. Modifications of thought may be im- 
plied and virtually incorporated by the tones of the 
voice, thus assisting us fully to interpret another. 

This second effect is produced chiefly by vari- 
ations of tone. These modifications may be so 
strongly implied as to become virtually incorporated 
into the thought itself. The tones thus assist (a) in 
interpretation of what we hear, (b) in conveying fuller 
meaning when we speak. Such incorporation could be 
found in almost infinite variety, and illustrated by num- 
berless examples. A few obvious cases are the follow- 

(1) Additional matter implied. A person 
quoting some strong utterance will often supply zn act- 
ual words a thought which, in the original utterance, 
was only implied by an inflection. 

Examples: "Beware the ides of March." "Chew 


upon this." " My blessing season this in thee." " Tell 
me, good Brutus, can you see your face?" 

(2) The thought may as often be weakened, as in 
rendering a compliment tardily or indifferently; as, " He 
spoke very well." 

(3) The tone may suggest comparison, as, 
"This is my view." 

(4) It maybe intensified or energized, as, "never" 
or, it may be 

(5) Clothed with the weight of dignity or au- 
thority, even as much as by an additional formal 
statement of vested power; such must have been our 
Lord's " Verily, verily." 

(6) The tone may imply an emotional signifi- 
cance, as, "Do not leave me here." 

Examples. — Find or make illustrations of these 
six modifications, and of as many others as you can 

Now in listening we do unite with the bare image or 
predication, as contained in the written words them- 
selves, such meaning as the tones impart, thus enlarg- 
ing, intensifying, comparing, restricting, or, as in the 
case of irony, absolutely inverting, the meaning which 
the words as printed would convey. Furthermore, we 
add to our modified conception of the thought as an 
objective product some estimate of the speaker's 
subjective relation to the thought, i. *\,his feeling 
or interest in it. 

This significance, which we thus attach to tones, is 


for the most part recognized intuitively. There is a 
natural symbolism in sound, as there is in action; the 
one appealing to the ear much as the other does to the 
eye. There is also, perhaps, a small percentage of ef- 
fect resulting from meanings which men have conven- 
tionally agreed upon. However derived, these effects 
of tone are real comments upon the thought. This 
is true in regard to the interpretation of other people's 
thought as heard. It is equally true, and of more pres- 
ent interest, as constituting the basis for the study of 
practical expression, that when we seek to express 
thought by our own voices, we do add to the mere 
written words many accompanying thoughts and com- 
ments. These additions, direct and parenthetical, if 
written in full, would quite swamp the thought of any 
ordinarily suggestive paragraph. The practical effect 
of such needless oral amplifications may occasionally 
be witnessed in some garrulous person who, while 
talking, "thinks aloud." Though these accompanying 
comments and reflections are usually not to be spoken, 
they are ordinarily to be thought. In a reasonably ex- 
pressive paragraph or sentence as many words will be 
implied, on an average, as are spoken. These im- 
plied additional words, if distinctly thought at the 
moment of uttering the others, impart to those spoken 
a fullness of significance which can scarcely be realized 
in any other way. The measurement of these mental 
processes and the noting of them in suggestive hints 
accompanying the text, constitutes expressional 


paraphrase, which will be developed in connection 
with many parts of this book. 

Oral communication, then, supplements rhetoric by 
adding, at the least expense of time and attention, 
much real meaning, often not the least important part 
of the thought. Even a gesture may signify more than 
could be told in a whole paragraph. Illustrations of 
this may be seen daily in the movements of the hand, 
shrug of the shoulder, carriage of the head, elevation 
or contraction of the brows, and the like. 

Examples.— Recall or imagine expressive gestures 
and tones, reproduce them, with explanation of circum- 
stances if necessary, and translate the action into words. 


( i) The most obvious proof of this proposition, that 
oral delivery supplements rhetoric, is found in the 
familiar fact that we ordinarily feel satisfied as to a per- 
son's real meaning only after conversing with him. The 
exceptional cases in which tone and manner confuse 
rather than clear the sense, only prove their real sig- 
nificance and show the proportion of effect which we 
intuitively accord to them. 

(2) An oral recitation, if you can eliminate em- 
barrassment and other disturbing influences, will give 
the most satisfactory exhibition of the student's knowl- 
edge of a subject. 

(3) In an important law case the essential testimony 


is produced by the speaking witness rather than by 
deposition, because the manner of the witness is a 
factor in determining his fitness to testify and the 
accuracy of his knowledge; and it will often be ob- 
served that an unlucky pause, or a timid inflection, or 
a downcast eye, will at once demand additional questions 
and statements. 

(4) A popular lecture, address, or sermon would 
lose a very large portion of its significance by being 
printed; and yet such speaking is not mere clap-trap. 
By personal enthusiasm, magnetism, and full expres- 
sion, the popular orator does vastly more than amuse. 
His manner is a teaching. His presence and voice 
form a real, and in many cases, an essential part of the 

With all reverence we may refer to the Perfect 
Teacher. He left no written treatise, nor ever, so far 
as we know, read a lecture or a sermon. He made the 
great addition to the written law by personal inter- 
course with men, by talking with the woman at the 
well, by familiarly addressing the throngs that covered 
the banks of Gennesaret. 

Expression is often thought to be merely the result 
of natural gifts, the manifestation of genius. So, per- 
haps, it is in its highest form; but, like most other 
gifts, it may be indefinitely cultivated where it is pres- 
ent, and may usually be developed even where seem- 
ingly absent. 


In order to have free and full expression, two things 
are necessary: 

i. One must have something to say, and have the 
disposition to communicate. 

2. The channels for communication must be so pre- 
pared that the thought shall flow with a fair degree of 

The first requisite is presupposed, as a matter of 
course; yet it sustains an intimate relation with the 
second. The relation is one of mutual assistance — of 
interdependence. It is, perhaps, as true that the open- 
ing of the channels for communication affects both the 
disposition to communicate and the thought that shall 
be uttered, as it is true that the thought in the mind 
and the impulse to utter it provide a way for such 


In a rational being all physical activity should be 
under the direction of the mind. This is not to ignore the 
province of unconscious and reflex action. We recog- 
nize the domination of the physical by the mental in di- 
rect conscious volitions, and also in the formation of those 
unconscious acts which have become habitual. The 
capability of forming habits, with definite purpose to 
utilize the habitual action, is one of the distinguishing 
powers of man. And the cultivation of those condi- 
tions and habits fromnvhich desired actions shall pro- 


ceed spontaneously is the end in the larger part of all 
the physical exercises connected with the preparation 
for speech. 

Broadly, then, we may say that, so far as expression 
is concerned, every movement of the body, whether di- 
rectly volitional or only habitual, is dominated by the 
purposes of the mind. The intelligence perceives some 
effect to be produced, and knows that this effect can be 
produced only through the mechanism of the body. 
The complicated machinery of vocalization acts in re- 
sponse to mandates from the unseen, unconscious self. 
On the other hand, physical habits, once induced, 
greatly affect the action of the mind itself; hence the 
vast importance of correct physical habits, even in the 
light of purely intellectual activity and achievement. 

Mind and body so react upon each other that we may 
not say this part is only physical; that, simply mental. 
Each throb of feeling, though its cause be only spirit- 
ual, moves sensibly some portion of the physical frame. 
It shows itself in quickened pulse, in heated brain, or 
starting perspiration, or contracting muscle. The 
world's great poet has said: 

And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt, 
The organs, though defunct and dead before, 
Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move 
With casted slough and fresh legerity. 

Hen. V.; IV., I. 

With equal truth the converse may be said: that 
when the organs, u tho' defunct and dead before," re- 


ceive a quickening and a strengthening, their influence 
reacts upon the source which started it, the mind. 
Every power of the body is the channel for the outflow 
of some life and action of the soul. There lie in every 
nature hidden springs of thought, emotion, and activity, 
over whose mouths the debris of inaction, inefficient 
will, or ignorance, or evil habit has accumulated so as 
to choke the natural flow. But once remove obstruc- 
tions, and the clear, refreshing stream appears to draw 
upon its source, until the stagnant pool becomes the 
living fountain. 

A twofold training of the man is thus contemplated 
in the study of Oral Expression. It includes (a) the 
measurement of thought as in process of communica- 
tion, or, the analysis of the expressional elements of 
thought; (b) the mastery of the physical means of ex- 
pression. Both of these — the mental and the physical 
training — together constitute the technique of ex- 

This book is concerned more especially with what 
may be called the mental technique, or the mental side 
of technique. In this, as in all technical development, 
the true object is the establishment of normal 
conditions, out of which rational expression shall come 
spontaneously, with freedom, ease, and precision, be- 
cause both mind and body are working most economi- 
cally, that is, in conformity with ascertained laws of na- 

In the establishment of physical technique many 


movements of muscle, many actions of nerve, are re- 
quired, which seem to have no direct outcome, but are 
only preparatory. They are meant to induce that sup- 
pleness, precision, elasticity, and strength which will 
render their action prompt, accurate, and reliable. So 
in the development of the mental technique of expression. 
Many mind-movements in the measurement of effects — 
in analyzing, translating, restating, inverting, expanding, 
contracting, and the like, are necessary to secure 
that flexibility, versatility, and spontaneity which 
shall render possible the quick action of perception, 
reasoning, imagination, emotion, and volition, upon 
which will depend a versatile and effective expression. 

The relation of the two elements in this technical 
development will appear as we proceed in the study. 
Let it here suffice to say that the mental must lead. 
Thought-measurements must be made first; and sec- 
ondly we must find what properties of tone and action 
naturally fit and represent these properties of thought. 

And yet these two departments are not separated, 
nor is either of them made matter of mere mechanical 
analysis or dissection. The physical and the mental 
elements of technique are continually interwoven in 
the process of actual expression, or, more properly, 
they are welded together under the heat of fresh and 
vivid impulses of communication. Natural habits, 
both physical and mental, once started, tend to acceler- 
ation, and they move on with a self-developing mo- 
mentum. Much stress is laid, at the outset, upon the 


development of normal conditions, both of mind and 
of body, because only by this method can we hope for 
the growth of any habits of expression which shall 
be either wholesome or valuable. 

We shall take up, first, the moods of utterance, 
treating of purpose in speech, then each mood sepa- 
rately, in the details of its application, giving, at each 
step, the property of tone and action naturally suiting 
it; afterward, some study of the General Properties of 
Utterance; and lastly, some hints on Individuality in 
Utterance, and on Criticism. 

All work that points tow r ards art must find its final 
justification in practical application; and this will be 
fully tested only by criticism. Many of the divisions 
and subdivisions in the expressional analysis may at 
first seem to be more minute than practical. Experi- 
ence has proved, however, that the theoretical discrim- 
inations are not more minute than are the correspond- 
ing properties of tone which are demanded by a sensi- 
tive ear and a refined literary taste. If at first some 
distinctions seem "more nice than wise," the student 
will kindly remember that this is a common experience, 
and that a little familiarity will render perfectly plain 
things which at first may have seemed obscure. 




In every work regard the writer's end. 

— Pope. 

We have glanced at some of the principles underly- 
ing vocal expression of thought, and have seen that 
there are two departments in the study, the mental and 
the physical. The logical order is: first, the thought, 
viewed in the light of the purpose for which it is to 
be communicated; then, the means of accomplishing 
that purpose; rhetorical, or thought-measuring pro- 
cesses first, afterward the thought-figuring properties of 
tone and action. 

Purpose is made the basis of classification, analysis, 
and practical study because it is regarded as the germi- 
nal element, the regulating principle, in all communi- 
cation. By "Mood of Utterance" is meant, subject- 
ively, the intention on the part of the speaker to pro- 
duce a given effect in the mind of the listener; object- 
ively, it is that property in the utterance which ex- 
presses this purpose. The subjective and the objective 
ought, of course, to agree: perfect agreement would se- 
cure perfect manifestation of thought, that is, per- 
fect expression. That such perfect agreement is not 
often found, the observation and the consciousness of 
every careful student will attest. The special business 
of criticism upon delivery is to point out the agree- 


ment or disagreement between the thought as conceived 
and the thought as expressed. A true basis for crit- 
icism, then, will be maintained by showing at every 
step the connection between the subjective element as 
found in the purpose of the communication, and the 
objective as discerned in the properties of the utterance. 
The study, thus pursued, will on the one hand stimu- 
late the most searching analysis of the thought, and on 
the other hand secure natural and effective expression, 
which is but the embodiment of the speaker's purpose. 
Purpose in utterance may be viewed — 

I. With reference to Extent, as 

i. Special, applying to the smaller divisions of the 
thought as contained in the paragraph or sentence. — 
This might be called the immediate purpose. 

2. General, applying to the larger divisions, or to 
the article as a whole. — This might be called the final 

II. With reference to the Type. 

1. Deliberative or Formulative, addressing the fac- 
ulties of perception, and aiming, primarily, to present 
thought-elements discretively, not in connections or re- 
lations; employing the tone-element of Time. 

2. Discriminative, addressing the reasoning powers 
and aiming to show relations of thought; — specially 
symbolized by the tone-element of Pitch. 

3. Emotional, addressing the sensibilities and seek- 
ing to excite feeling; — marked by Quality, or "Color'* 
of Tone. 


4. Energetic, or Volitional, addressing the will and 
attempting to persuade or dominate; — indicated by the 
tone-element of Force. 

Of course, different purposes will often mingle at the 
same instant, and the central purpose may change 
sometimes with great rapidity. But, however frequent 
the changes of leading purpose, or however complex 
the motive at any instant, there must be in rational 
thought at every moment same predominant motive and 
purpose. This ruling motive the intelligent speaker 
always knows in the case of original thought; and to 
discover it in the case of quoted or written thought, 
is the business of the intelligent and sympathetic 

The fact that different purposes usually, perhaps al- 
ways, co-exist and affect one another, may, indeed, ren- 
der the analysis more difficult, but not the less necessary. 
The study of anatomy must proceed by tracing the 
different systems separately, though life employs them 
all in combination. So analytic study and criticism of 
expression must often trace separately these different 
properties of thought, which in live utterance assert 
themselves in combination, showing the consistency of 
an organism and the force of vitality. 

Reasons for making- a Distinction between 
Deliberation and Discrimination. 

It will be observed that Deliberation and Discrimi- 
nation are alike in that both address the intellect rather 
than the sensibilities or the will. They differ in this: 


Deliberation addresses the perceptive faculties ; it pre- 
sents things which are to be recognized rather than 
reasoned upon. Discrimination is concerned with the 
rational rather than with the perceptive faculties; it 
presents the relations of facts and truths and invites 
the listener to reason upon them. 

Another reason for making this division is the differ- 
ence, already apparent, in the means of expressing the 
two. Deliberation is shown through Time; Discrimi- 
nation through Pitch. 

A third reason is one of convenience. The class of 
utterances which primarily address the intellect is so 
large that it is found much easier to treat them in two 
main divisions than in one. 

Considering these two moods, however, as philosoph- 
ically one, inasmuch as both appeal to the same de- 
partment of the mind, we should have but three essen- 
tial classes of utterances, the Intellectual, the Emo- 
tional, and the Volitional. 

This analysis according to the grand divisions of the 
mental faculties, is made the basis of the main divisions 
of this book. 

Action naturally suited to tlie different 
Moods. — Composure, ease, and firmness are the gen- 
eral properties of action expressing Deliberation. 
They express self-possession, with a readiness to open 
and unfold ideas. The gestures are less frequent, less 
varied, less intense, and less expressive of feeling than 
in the other moods. Deliberative action, like "Time" 


in the voice, is the most negative form of expression. 

The gestures most natural for deliberation are those 
which indicate, open, reveal, or present. They are in- 
tellective, unimpassioned, usually simple and small. 

In the limited use of gesture, which is appropriate to 
the Deliberative Mood, the position of the body becomes 
specially important. This should as a rule be repose- 
ful or moderately animated. 

Discriminative Gesture often consists in op- 
position or contrast of movement. Contrast in 
gesture, as in inflection, is a natural expression of an- 
tithesis, which underlies most discriminative utterance. 
Gestures of discrimination are likely to include indica- 
tion, detection, and especially contrasted affirmation 
and negation. 

The pantomimic expression of Emotion is almost 
too broad to be given in any single term. It consists, 
generally, in changes of posture, and in the special 
positions and textures of the different parts of the 
body, especially of the face, shoulders, and hands. 

The attitudes of animation, antagonism, and recoil 
in different degrees are often effective; so are such ges- 
tures as those of caressing, assailing, rejecting. 

Energy is expressed through gesture by direct- 
ness, strength, and rapidity of action, always 
proportional to the degree of energy, as indicated by 
the voice. Gestures of affirmation prevail. 

(i) " General Force," or that which applies to the 
thought as a whole, is expressed more by strength of 


posture and carriage of head and chest; (2) " Stress," 
or the more particular application of energy, is shown 
more by specific gesture. 

Final and Immediate Purposes, as Gov- 
erning* Analysis. — In determining the dominant 
purposes in an article or a selection, the analysis 
may regard two things: 1st, the general or final pur- 
pose in the article as a whole; 2d, the special, or 
momentary purposes, which will measure the direct 
and immediate motives in separate portions — as para- 
graphs, or sentences — taken by themselves. The mo- 
mentary will usually be decided in the light of the final, 
which should, of course, be determined first. 

The immediate purpose, rather than the final, gov- 
ems the utterance at each point, because the immediate 
effect upon the hearer is to be produced by directly 
addressing at each moment one faculty or another. 

Often it will be impossible, without prolonged study 
and reflection, to decide satisfactorily upon these 
"moods"; but renewed attempts will surely bring 
facility; and the process, if continued until the mind 
works in this analytic way with some freedom and 
spontaneity, will effectually prevent imitation, and will 
do much to secure individuality and genuineness in 

While considering the moods in this broader view, it 
will be helpful to keep in mind the equally broad di- 
visions of tone-properties, already mentioned under 
"Type." In the following chapters the more specific 


applications of the one will be joined with the more 
minute measurements of the other. 

In order that the analysis might be tangible and prac- 
tical, we needed just here to premise as much as we 
have given with respect to the general properties of 
tone and action that fit, respectively, these different 
moods of utterance. 

Sequence of Dominant Moods, — Orderly 
thought will usually reveal a logical sequence in the 
dominant purposes of speech. The most natural order 
is: first, presentation of thought-elements, facts, truths; 
next, discernment of relations, reasoning on the 
thoughts presented; then excitation of feeling by pre- 
senting facts and truths in their emotional bearings; 
lastly, the focalizing of thought and feeling upon some 
practical end, reaching the climax of soul-action invo- 
litionality. Hence, energy must be studied in refer- 
ence to the emotional properties which prompt it; and 
in reference to the deliberative and discriminative prop- 
erties of thought, which give rise to the emotion. 

Illustrations of different moods of utterance may be 
found by analyzing almost any speech in which appear 
the purposes of information, or statement of fact; of 
discrimination, or discernment of relations; of appeal 
to feeling; and incitement to action. 

Take, for example, Mark Antony's funeral oration 
over the body of Caesar. Consider all the circum- 
stances and see the need of these different elements at 
different stages of the address. At first, he must sim- 


ply state to the excited populace the reasons for his ap- 
pearing before them, and his personal relation to the 
dead man. This he must do without calling up any 
comparisons or contrasts, without manifesting any par- 
ticular emotion himself, or saying anything that shall 
cause any excitation of passion in the crowd. It is but 
plain, simple statement of facts. This is the mood of 
Deliberation, the annunciatory or declarative mood. 

Soon, however, he finds it necessary to present con- 
siderations which suggest ideas in distinct relations, 
especially that of comparison and contrast, which ap- 
pears so prominently in the discussion of Caesar's alleged 
"ambition." This is done so adroitly that you scarcely 
see at first the entrance of another motive or purpose; 
but soon you discover the momentary predominance 
of the mood of Discrimination. Bare statement of 
separate facts, comparatively unrelated, or at least pre- 
sented for separate consideration, has now given place 
to the presentation of related facts, with the evident 
purpose of having them considered in their relations. 

When he appeals to the popular love for Caesar, it is 
with evident intent to awaken emotion. Facts, separate 
and related, have led to this, but now his object 
is to move the sensibilities. Hence we merge into 
the Emotional Mood, the immediate, momentary pur- 
pose being to manifest his own feeling (by pretending 
to conceal it) and to awaken similar emotions in his 

But the orator has not finished yet. Facts, rela- 


tions of facts and truths, even deep feeling, do not ex- 
ist for themselves, but for some ultimate use to be 
made of them. There is something to be done. The 
will must be aroused and guided, either directly or in- 
directly. The speaker's own will now bears upon the 
will of his listeners. This energizing force, this evi- 
dent purpose to move the audience to some resolution, 
or voluntary attitude, or definite action, characterizes 
and names the Mood of Energy. 

Thus Antony has passed, by distinctly traceable 
steps, through the different Moods of Utterance, ap- 
pealing, first to the intellect, by facts, separate and re- 
lated, then to the sensibilities, and lastly to the will. 
He has addressed in turn every faculty of his hearers, 
and by observing the natural order of approach, he has 
captured the very stronghold of the enemy, he has ac- 
complished the greatest feat possible to mortals, the 
moving of an antagonistic will. He has shown him- 
self an orator. 

So did Wendell Phillips when, facing the angry crowd 
in Faneuil Hall, he turned them from the attitude of 
sympathy with the murderers of Lovejoy to that of 
toleration or even enthusiasm for the cause in which 
the martyr had died. 

So did Beecher in his famous address at Liverpool 
when he found the people of England adverse to the 
cause of the United States government during our civil 
war, and left them enlightened, persuaded, convinced, 


changed, largely, in their attitude toward our govern- 

But it is not alone in what is technically called oratory 
that the skillful use of these moods of utterance may 
be discerned. Essays, letters, any form of communica- 
tion may embody them. 

An analysis of the fifteenth chapter of First Corin- 
thians w T ill reveal similar progression of thought 
through these different moods, demanding, in turn, 
the varying properties of utterance which it is the 
business of elocutionary analysis to point out. 

In the chapter referred to, the first eleven verses are 
predominantly deliberative; verses 12-23 partake more 
of discrimination, giving definite relations of ideas; the 
same will be found to predominate in verses 35—49; 
emotion appears as the leading characteristic in such 
passages as verses 55-57; while the closing verse of 
the chapter is plainly energetic, being designed to bear 
upon the will and move to definite attitude and action. 

The analyzing of speeches, articles, and special 
passages in literature of almost any form, will develop 
an insight into the dominating purposes, which change 
frequently, and sometimes almost imperceptibly, but 
which give a rational basis for determining the requisite 
properties of utterance, either in reading or in speak- 
ing. It cannot fail, if conscientiously done, to awaken 
the general logical and literary sense, while it directly 
prepares for oral expression. 

The simple types must be studied separately before 


their combinations can be profitably or rightly con- 

It is not to be thought that the same order is always 
observed, the point is that in rational utterance there 
is some discernible relation between the predominant 

The student needs to practice for some time on this 
broader analysis by moods, before taking up the differ- 
ent moods in detail. This stage of the work answers 
to "outlining" in written rhetoric. 

A convenient way of marking the outline analysis 
by moods is to place upon the margin of the text the fol- 
lowing symbols : capital D for Deliberation ; S for Discrim- 
ination; O for Emotion; and N for Energy. These will 
indicate the prevailing purpose or mood in the passage 
so marked. Noticeable secondary elements may be 
expressed by adding small letters in connection with 
the capitals. Thus, capital D with small o will mean 
that the passage is prevailingly Deliberative, but per- 
ceptibly marked with Emotion. Dn will indicate a 
secondary Energy in the Deliberative passage. Obvi- 
ously, all the moods may be mingled in this way, and 
it is practically important to trace these strong sec- 
ondary elements. 

It will sometimes be difficult to decide which is prin- 
cipal and which is subordinate. Thus, for instance, 
many utterances which seem from their diction to be 
Deliberative, are yet in their intent somewhat volitional. 
This is noticeably true of many declarative statements 


as to 'practical duties, responsibilities, and the like. 

EXAMPLE. — Public duty in this country is not discharged, as is 
so often supposed, by voting. . . . The citizen who supposes that 
he does all his duty when he votes places a premium upon political 
knavery. — Curtis. 

In this case it is difficult, even by studying the con- 
text, to decide whether the words are uttered for the 
purpose of laying down an important truth to be re- 
ceived by the intellect, or of rousing citizens to the 
discharge of their duty. If the former is the leading 
motive the utterance is Deliberative; belonging to the 
strongest type of Deliberation, namely, the Proposi- 
tional. If the latter, it is Volitional or Energetic. 
Practically one can usually decide as to the predomi- 
nance of the two elements, Deliberation and Energy, 
by noting these differences: Deliberation is didactic; 
Energy hortatory. Deliberation presents facts rather 
than truths; Energy deals with truths supposed to be 
already apprehended, but needing to be impressed. 
Deliberation is more particular; Energy more general. 
The one is explanatory; the other appeals to the intui- 
tive perceptions. 

The following are good extracts for analysis as to moods: Cassius' in- 
stigation of Brutus, in Julius Caesar, Act. I., Scene 2. Brutus' reflections 
on the assassination, Act II., Scene I. Caesar induced to go to the capitol; 
Act II., Scene 2. The trial scene in the Merchant of Venice, Act IV., 
Scene I. The Bunker Hill Monument orations and the oration on 
Adams and Jefferson, by Webster; Burke's speech on American Taxa- 
tion; Macaulay's essay on Milton and the one on Lord Clive; Thackeray's 
Roundabout Papers. 

Fine extracts are contained in Genung's Hand-book of Rhetorical 


Analysis, and some admirable short speeches, entire, in Prof. 
Frost's Inductive Studies in Oratory. The more miscellaneous, but 
finely selected, pieces in Cumnock's "Choice Readings," as in a 
collection under the same title by Fulton and Trueblood, will furnish 
good material for analysis. In fact, there is practically no limit to good, 
available literature well suited to this use. 




Bring me to the test, 
And I the matter will re-word; which madness 
Would gambol from. Hamlet III., 4. 

The true purpose in all expressive reading is inter- 
pretation. This word, in its original significance, 
indicates translation. All attempts at interpretation 
rest upon the essential principle of translating, or carry- 
ing over into some familiar realm of experience, obser- 
vation, and communication, things that are found in 
some less familiar realm. It is progress from the less 
known to the better known. 

When ideas or thoughts are translated into words 
other than those in which they are originally found, the 
process is called literary translation, or paraphrase: 
when translated into bearing, attitude, and gesture, the 
process might be called pantomimic paraphrasing; 
translation into tone becomes vocal paraphrasing, or 
vocal expression. 

Expressional paraphrase should include all the es- 
sential elements of literary paraphrase and should add 
such comments as will reveal the author's purpose in 
the utterance, and the relations of the speaker or reader 
to the thought, to the occasion, and to the audience. 


That is, Expressional Paraphrase adds to literary the 
personal and subjective elements of thought, or the 
reader's personality. This process of paraphrasing, 
broadly treated, constitutes a large part of the general 
mental preparation for expressive utterance. It should 
accompany the analysis by moods, and should be em- 
ployed freely, even before the different moods of utter- 
ance are taken up in detail. . 

Some of its connections with the various processes 
of formal rhetoric may be noted. It will largely employ 
synonyms, but not directly for the purpose of technical 
study of words; synonymous expressions will be em- 
ployed, both to test the student's grasp of the thought 
and to encourage and compel an absorption of the 
thought. More broadly, paraphrasing in some of 
its more prominent applications will be found similar 
and supplemental to some of the fundamental processes 
of composition and analysis. Thus, condensative par- 
aphrasing corresponds to outlining, paragraphing, and 
the testing of the unity of thought. Expansive para- 
phrase, or the mental expansion of the thought, is a 
practical application of the process of amplification, 
though much more rapid and economical. Elliptical 
paraphrasing is one of the finest practical tests for the 
property of suggestiveness, — one of the most important 
factors in all rhetorical problems. 

As a disciplinary study, pursued in this way, its value 
is certainly not second to that of ordinary rhetoric. It 
is superior in so far as it demands the practical appli- 


cation, and ultimately the spontaneous assimilation, of 
rhetorical principles. 

In this work the imagination is not more used than 
the logical faculties of comparison and condensation. 

The most economical way of testing the use of words, 
especially as to the intonation they shall receive, is for 
the speaker to state to his own mind explicitly and 
definitely the purpose for which he speaks. This prin 
ciple, applied broadly, as to the motive or end in a ser- 
mon or platform address as a whole, would be quite 
obvious; it is not quite so clear when applied to the 
shorter portions of speech. In regard to these it is 
often assumed that there must be an unconscious ex- 
pression. Again, it is acknowledged scholarship to 
choose words definitely and purposely, even though such 
painstaking choice should retard, for the time, the spon- 
taneous "flow" which should characterize good writing. 
Is it any less disciplinary or any less useful to choose 
the manner of uttering words? Not only is it true that 
"manner is matter;" it is also true that very often manner 
is much more important than matter; i. e. y it makes 
much more difference how one speaks than whect one 

To choose means of expression as to movement, in- 
flection, etc., by arbitrary standards or by imitation, 
would surely result in stiffness, shallowness, and affec- 
tation in delivery. The utterance always must be 
the reader's or speaker's own measurement of the 
thought. To secure this individual, independent inter- 


pretation, and to ensure a fresh realization, at the mo- 
ment, of the significance and bearings of what one is 
saying — this is to prepare for genuine expression. 
And for this nothing is a greater help than an expres- 
sional paraphrase. 

In connection with each of the moods of utterance 
we shall apply this principle of paraphrase. 

The real purpose in utterance may often be more 
clearly seen by changing the phraseology. Two rea- 
sons may justify such changes in the words: to make 
clearer, by comment, addition, or alteration, the thought 
contained in the words uttered, considered apart from 
the personality of the speaker; and to show more fully 
the speaker's attitude and relation toward the thing 
said or toward the person addressed. The first of 
these two purposes will give rise to what we may call 
objective paraphrases; the second will occasion those 
that are subjective. In either case the reader may gain 
a more vivid and complete impression, as a condition 
favoring full expression. 

Objective paraphrasing calls attention more to the 
circumstances and external relations of the thought, 
and less to the speaker's personality as connected with 
it. The objective is more explanatory, more intellect- 
ive, dealing more with the reason of the case, and less 
with any emotion or enthusiasm in the utterance; hence 
the objective, as a rule, naturally precedes the subjective. 


In the following passage Brutus is represented as ex- 
panding the thought of the first clause in a soliloquy 
which very coolly reasons upon the proposed death of 
his friend, Caesar, setting forth to his own mind causes, 
conditions, and results. This is almost a typical case 
of objective expansion, made by the poet himself. In 
many cases similar amplification must be mentally 
made by reader or speaker, in order to suggest the full 
force of a brief, condensed sentence. 

Bru. It must be by his death: and, for my part, 
I know no personal cause to spurn at him, 
But for the general. He would be crown' d: 
How that might change his nature, there's the question: 
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; 
And that craves wary walking. Crown him? — that; — 
And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, 
That at his will he may do danger with. 
Th' abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins 
Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar, 
I have not known when his affections sway'd 
More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, 
That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, 
Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; 
But when he once attains the upmost round, 
He then unto the ladder turns his back, 
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
By which he did ascend. So Caesar may; 
Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel 
Will bear no color for the thing he is, 
Fashion is thus; that what he is, augmented, 
Would run to these and these extremities: 
And therefore think him as a serpent's egg, 
Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous; 
And kill him in the shell. 

— Julius Ccesar II., j. 



Subjective paraphrasing is such comment, explana- 
tion, or accompaniment as reveals the intent of the 
speaker. Thus, "Some subjects afe always timely," 
might be used merely to prepare for something to come, 
or might be given with the weight and fullness of a 
proposition upon which the mind is to dwell for a mo- 
ment, or again might be a mere connective thought be- 
tween two subjects. 

Suppose, first, that the above sentence is used introduc- 
tory. The introductory purpose might be formulated 
to the speaker's own thought somewhat as follows: 
"Some subjects, amid the many to which our attention 
is from time to time invited, are such in their nature, 
that they are never out of place; and the one to which 
I now invite you is one of these." 

Or, the same sentence, used propositionally, might 
contain a purpose, that could be roughly expressed 
as follows: "There are subjects trivial and subjects 
grave; subjects timely and subjects untimely; the one 
before us now, is worthy our deepest pondering and 
our most candid reception." 

Or, again, suppose the same sentence to be used 
transitionally. The connecting purpose might be ex- 
pressed thus: "Now, in passing from that which may 
not be in keeping with the circumstances, we will con- 
sider a topic which is never out of place." 

It is obvious that the introductory paraphrase, rec- 
ognized and distinctly stated to the mind of the 


speaker, will fit him to speak words with such rate and 
intonation as are naturally calculated to invite the at- 
tention to something to be presented; that the more 
serious import expressed in a propositional paraphrase 
will suggest to the speaker a more measured and 
weighty utterance; also that the transitional purpose 
will reveal itself in quicker motion at first, merging in- 
to the slower as the new topic is approached. 

The same is true of other moods than the simply in- 
tellective, which is assumed in the previous example. 
Take a single sentence like this: "It must be by his 
death." One may assume on the part of the speaker 
an attitude of query, doubt, hesitation; and this in- 
terpretation may be expressed in an expansion which 
shall distinctively emphasize that mental state. For ex- 
ample: "Must it be? No, I cannot bear to think it! 
He is my friend. Yet, I must face it, for he is my 
country's enemy. He has no grievous personal fault, 
but he is dangerous to the State. Yet, can I be sure 
that his death is the only means of safety? I cannot 

Or, in the same words, assume a clear discrimination 
between his death and the death of some other; or, be- 
tween the death of Caesar and his recognition as Em- 
peror. Again, assume the interpretation of decision, 
emphasizing " must," and expand somewhat as follows: 
"We have hesitated long enough. We have al- 
ready incurred more danger than we ought. As Ro- 
mans, we must rouse ourselves and meet the emergency. 


Let us be prompt, decided, bold ! Let us do our duty." 
And still other interpretations might be assumed, which, 
in order to be justified to the speaker's own mind, 
would need to be paraphrased — chiefly by expansion — 
in such a way as to bring out the motives underlying 
the utterance, and especially the speaker's personal rela- 
tion to the thought. 

The Expansive Paraphrase. — According to the 
laws of rhetorical amplification, a brief, compact 
expression may be made to seem more real by dwell- 
ing on it for a moment. But if, during this moment 
of lingering, the mind of the reader or speaker merely 
stops and waits, the result will be either an empty de- 
lay in the thought, or a tiresome drawling. A manu- 
factured slowness is far from being a suggestive delib- 
erateness. There is a world-wide difference between 
the two: the one indicates vacuity, the other fullness; 
the one is mechanical, the other expressive. In order 
to make a slow delivery truly amplify the thought, the 
speaker must actually have in his own mind those 
considerations, added facts, reflections, allusions, etc., 
which he wishes to hint to his hearers. The listener 
may not, indeed, receive precisely the same accompa- 
nying thoughts that the speaker has in mind, but "like 
will beget like." Either the same thoughts, or others 
as good, in the same line, will be suggested to the sym- 
pathetic listener; provided a sensitive and trained in- 
stinct — logical, imaginative, and emotional — is allowed 
to play upon a flexible and sensitive voice. 


The following passage from Clay is a notable ex- 
ample of expansion on the ideas contained in "Lord 
and Savior," and "United States." What the orator 
here uttered in words might often, perhaps ordinarily, 
be held in thought, as a mental expansion, a subjective, 
inward comment, giving color and significance to the 
fewer uttered words. 

What appearance, sir, on the page of history, would a record like 
this make: "In the month of January, in the year of our Lord and 
Savior, 1824, while all European Christendom beheld, with cold, un- 
feeling apathy, the unexampled wrongs and inexpressible misery of 
Christian Greece, a proposition was made in the Congress of the 
United States — almost the sole, the last, the greatest repository of hu- 
man hope and human freedom, the representatives of a nation capable 
of bringing into the field a million of bayonets — while the free men of 
that nation were spontaneously expressing its deep-toned feeling, its 
fervent prayer, for Grecian success ; while the whole continent was 
rising, by one simultaneous motion, solemnly and anxiously supplicat- 
ing and invoking the aid of heaven to spare Greece, and to invigorate 
her arms ; while temples and senate-houses were all resounding with 
one burst of generous sympathy ; in the year of our Lord and Savior 
— that Savior alike of Christian Greece and of us — a proposition was 
offered in the American Congress to send a messenger to Greece to 
inquire into her state and condition, with expression of our good 
wishes and our sympathies, — and it was rejected "! 

We find in literature many cases of such expansible 
expressions. Often the amplification is done for us, on 
the page; sometimes only suggested. "To be, or not 
to be," in the marvelous soliloquy of Hamlet, is thus 
expanded through the thirty lines that follow. 


To be, or not to be, — that is the question: 

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 

And by opposing end them? To die, — to sleep, — 

No more ; and by a sleep to say we end 

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks 

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation 

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, — to sleep; — 

To sleep ! perchance to dream ! ay, there's the rub ; 

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come 

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 

Must give us pause: there's the respect 

That makes calamity of so long life ; 

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 

Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, 

The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay, 

The insolence of office, and the spurns 

That patient merit of the unworthy takes, 

When he himself might his quietus make 

With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, 

To grunt and sweat under a weary life, 

But that the dread of something after death, — 

The undiscover'd country from whose bourn 

No traveller returns, — puzzles the will, 

And makes us rather bear those ills we have 

Than fly to others that we know not of? 

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; 

And thus the native hue of resolution 

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; 

And enterprises of great pith and moment 

With this regard their currents turn awry, 

And lose the name of action. 

— Hamlet III. , /. 

In a similar way, separate elements in the general 
thought are expanded at length; as, for example, the 
simple infinitive "to die," the infolded idea of which is 


unwrapped by twenty lines of solid matter. In the 
mouth of a Booth the reflection and feeling of the 
twenty lines is felt to be present in the two little words. 
If this were not the case, the one hundred and thirty 
words required to unfold the idea, would be a digres- 
sion and an impertinence. 

Frequently, also, conclusive w r ords, like those of Po- 
lonius, " Farewell; my blessing season this in thee!" 
virtually incorporate into themselves all the thought 
and emotion of a long paragraph. 

And these few precepts in thy memory 

See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, 

Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. 

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. 

Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 

Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; 

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 

Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware 

Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in, 

Bear 't that th' opposed may beware of thee. 

Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice : 

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. 

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, 

But not express'd in fancy ; rich, not gaudy; 

For the apparel oft proclaims the man ; 

And they in France of the best rank and station 

Are most select and generous chief in that. 

Neither a borrower nor a lender be ; 

For loan oft loses both itself and friend, 

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 

This above all : to thine own self be true ; 

And it must follow, as the night the day, 

Thou canst not then be false to any man. 

Farewell: my blessing season this in thee! 

— Ha,7?ilet /. , j. 


Now the act of mentally, silently, recalling all these 
implied and accompanying thoughts, and so expanding 
the compact expression, enables, one to put into the 
brief uttered words that significance which logically 
and rightfully belongs to them, without an affected or 
mechanical slowness. The slow rate becomes truly 
suggestive, and economical. 

See examples of this in Psalm cxxxix. Here we 
have fine cases both of the anticipative, and of the con- 
clusive or retrospective, expansion. The first verse of 
this Psalm evidently implies the thoughts which are 
expanded in the following five verses. 

i O Lord, thou hast searched me, and known me. 

2 Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou under- 
standeth my thought afar off. 

3 Thou compassest mv path and my lying down, and art ac- 
quainted with all my ways. 

4 For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, thou 
knowest it altogether. 

5 Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand 
upon me. 

6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot 
attain unto it. 

Now observe the retrospective expansion in the last 
two verses of this Psalm. 

23 Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my 

24 And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the 
way everlasting. 

During the utterance of these closing words, the in- 
telligent, genuine reader must have in his mind some 


such reflective expansion of the thought as this: Thou 
Omniscient, Omnipresent One, who takest account of 
my every act, and notest every purpose and imagina- 
tion of this heart — thy marvelous creation, — thou 
knowest that, while I sincerely hate all evil ways, I may 
myself be false and erring. Oh ! seek out the lurking 
sin within me, bring it plainly before me, let me forsake 
it, and go with thee in the ways of safety, peace, suc- 
cess, forevermore. 

Even to speak such words, in amplification of this 
concluding thought, would hardly be impertinent; since 
the logic and feeling of the whole Psalm plainly imply 
such reflections: silently to couple, in one's own mind, 
these premises with this conclusion, must, surely, be a 
safe and sensible way to put into this closing petition just 
what the writer meant it should contain. The words, 
by themselves, might suggest other interpretations, 
which would call for different expression in the voice. 
The right and full significance can be realized only by 
accompanying the utterance with those thoughts which 
lead to it and give it shape. 

This is called an expansive paraphrase because it 
really does expand or unfold more fully the meaning 
which is condensed into the words. Its vocal symbol 
will consist in a slow rate, with patises well marked, but 
not abrupt; and/*^// quantity, which will be saved from 
becoming mere prolongation of sound, by the subtile, 
sympathetic, suggestive quality imparted by the reflec- 
tions and comments that momentarily fill the mind. 


This expansive paraphrase is of frequent use in ora- 
tory and poetry. Take, for example, these sentences 
from Lincoln's address at Gettysburg: 

Fourscore and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth upon this 
continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the prop- 
osition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great 
civil war, testing whether that nation — or any nation, so conceived and 
so dedicated — can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of 
that war. We are met to dedicate a portion of it as the final resting- 
place of those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. 

Now note by suggestive catch-words the implied 
thoughts that might be interlined, expanding these 
compact expressions. Think of all the history sug- 
gested in the first sentence; of the experience of strug- 
gle intimated in the second sentence; of the solemn 
and tender interest, the patriotic resolution, the noble 
aspirations, implied in the last sentence. It is obvious 
that a whole chapter, nay, many volumes, might be 
composed in amplification of these terse, suggestive 
sentences. One cannot, of course, consciously think 
of all that might be suggested; yet the thought of some- 
thing more than the mere words before the reader, will 
make those words, when spoken, full of a significance 
that will immeasurably assist in their expressive ut- 
terance. After actually writing out, in abbreviated 
form, such intimations of expansion or amplification, 
now read again the words as spoken by Lincoln, men- 
tally accompanying your utterance by your own ex- 
pansive paraphrase. 

Take these two lines from Longfellow's " Hiawatha": 


O the long and dreary Winter! 
O the cold and cruel Winter! 

It requires no great stretch of imagination to expand, 
in this example, the interjection, the adjectives, and the 
one repeated substantive. Make such expansion; then, 
keeping this in mind, pack all of the significance you 
thus gain into the original words as you read them 
aloud. Make first an objective expansion, then a sub- 
jective one. 

In such examples as the last two the element of 
quantity will be indispensable to the full utterance. 

The Coiicleiisative Paraphrase. — In this the 
purpose is the opposite to that of the expansive para- 
phrase. The design here is to abridge the expression 
for the purpose of grasping its salient points and pre- 
venting the attention from being scattered by the great 
number of words, or of subordinate clauses, often neces- 
sary to the full writing of the thought. The condens- 
ing may be done, sometimes, by sifting out a few of the 
words employed by the author — those words which 
contain the framework of the thought; again, it may be 
done by substituting some briefer expression for the 
longer one. Short and simple examples of this 
would be such cases as the following, John ix. 14: " Now 
it was the Sabbath day when Jesus made the clay, and 
opened his eyes." Here the words " made the clay, 
and opened his eyes" are simply equivalent to "did 
this"; the thing done being explicitly stated before. 
So in the twenty-fourth verse of the same chapter: " So 


they called the second time the man that was blind and 
said unto him, 'Give glory to God, we know that this 
man is a sinner.'" The words "the man that was 
blind" are simply equivalent to "him." 

In the second chapter of Romans, verses 2-16 will be 
more intelligently read by first condensing the whole 
thought into a brief sentence or two, as thus: 

And we know that the judgment of God is according to truth against 
them that practice such things. And reckonest thou this, O man, who 
judgest them that practice such things, and doest the same, that thou 
shalt escape the judgment of God? Or despisest thou the riches of 
his goodness and forbearance and long-suffering, not knowing that the 
goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance? but after thy hardness 
and impenitent heart treasurest up for thyself wrath in the day of 
wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God ; who will 
render to every man according to his works : to them that by patience 
in well-doing seek for glory and honour and incorruption, eternal life: 
but unto them that are factious, and obey not the truth, but obey un- 
righteousness, shall be wrath and indignation, tribulation and anguish, 
upon every soul of man that worketh evil, of the Jew first, and also of 
the Greek ; but glory and honour and peace to every man that worketh 
good, to the Jew first, and also to the Greek : for there is no respect of 
persons with God. For as many as have sinned without law shall also 
perish without law : and as many as have sinned under law shall be 
judged by law; for not the hearers of a law are just before God, but 
the doers of a law shall be justified: for when Gentiles which have no 
law do by nature the things of the law, these, having no law, are a law 
unto themselves ; in that they shew the work of the law written in 
their hearts, their conscience bearing witness therewith, and their 
thoughts one with another accusing or else excusing them; in the day 
when God shall judge the secrets of men, according to my gospel, by 
Jesus Christ. 

Canst thou justify thyself before God, who will at 
last award to every man his true deserts? 


Now it is by no means meant that this condensative 
paraphrasing should antagonize the idea of the expan- 
sive; the two are complemental parts of the same pro- 
cess. By as much as the brief, condensed expression 
enables one better to grasp the thought as a whole, by 
so much is he the better prepared to expand without 
losing the unity of the thought. 

Take this passage from Julius Caesar: 

I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 

As well as I do know your outward favor. 

Well, honour is the subject of my story. 

I cannot tell what you and other men 

Think of this life; but, for my single self, 

I had as lief not be as live to be 

In awe of such a thing as I myself. 

I was born free as Caesar ; so were you : 

We both have fed as well; and we can both 

Endure the winter's cold as well as he : 

For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 

Caesar said to me, " Darest thou, Cassius, now 

Leap in with me into this angry flood, 

And swim to yonder point?" Upon the word, 

Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, 

And bade him follow: so indeed he did. 

The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it 

With lusty sinews, throwing it aside 

And stemming it w 7 ith hearts of controversy: 

But, ere we could arrive the point proposed, 

Caesar cried, "Help me, Cassius, or I sink!" 

I, as JEnesiS. our great ancestor, 

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 

The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber 

Did I the tired Caesar : and this man 

Is now become a god; and Cassius is 


A wretched creature, and must bend his body, • 

If Csesar carelessly but nod on him. 

He had a fever when he was in Spain ; 

And when the fit was on him I did mark 

How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: 

His coward lips did from their color fly ; 

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 

Did lose his lustre. I did hear him groan : 

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 

Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 

Alas, it cried, "Give me some drink, Titinius," 

As a sick girl. — Ye gods, it doth amaze me, 

A man of such a feeble temper should 

So get the start of the majestic world, 

And bear the palm alone. 

The speech as a whole may be better understood by- 
first condensing its principal thought into some single 
sentence. This will leave the mind at liberty to notice 
every suggested idea in the full mental amplification 
without losing sight of the central purpose for which 
Cassius speaks. The essence of the whole might be 
thus expressed: Is it not absurd that so weak a man as 
Caesar should lord it over you and me? 

At this point the student should practice for several 
lessons, making condensative paraphrases of strong 
passages. Take, for example, scenes from Shakespeare, 
and condense long speeches into a line or two. Take 
orations, essays, descriptions, criticisms, — in short, any 
good material used for ordinary literary or rhetorical 
analysis, like the selections found in Genung's Hand- 
book of Rhetorical Analysis, — and condense the thought 
of each paragraph into a single se?itence. Thiscondensa- 


tive paraphrasing for vocal expression is the counterpart 
of the testing of rhetorical unity in the paragraph. The 
reduction to a single sentence should, however, not be 
a mere abstract of the thought as given, but should be 
the reader's measurement of the aim and purpose in 
that thought. It will be subjective as well as object- 
ive. And those selections will be best for this purpose 
which reveal something of the personality of the writer, 
and which contain a real human interest. Those 
will not be fruitful which contain the dry, impersonal 
statement of mere scientific investigation and generali- 
zation, because such are not naturally adapted to vocal 
expression. No text-book will afford so many rich ex- 
amples for this work as the Bible. Condense the para- 
graphs of the Sermon on the Mount, those of Luke xv., 
of John iii. and iv., of Romans viii., of I. Corinthians 
xv., almost any of the Psalms, many passages in the 
Prophets, many in the narrative portions of the Old 

The Elliptical or Parenthetical Para- 
phrase, — This differs from the expansive in that it 
supplies suggested and related matter connected with 
the text, rather than unfolds ideas plainly enwrapped 
in it. Expansion unfolds what is infolded. It spreads 
out w T hat is compact or condensed, but what is really 
contained in the passage. Ellipsis, on the other hand, 
suggests what may be received with the thought. It 
verges more upon the mood of Discrimination. Its 
vocal expression will employ the rhetorical pause rather 


than grammatical pause and quantity. With the pause 
there will also be some suggestive inflection, or intona- 
tion. This will be plainer after the study of discrimi- 
nation; but must be somewhat anticipated here. 

Take this example from Blaine's Eulogy of Garfield: 
" Great in life, he was surpassingly great in death. " 
After "life," we might have the parenthesis, "as every 
one knows that he was!" or "/tow great he was!" 
Also, after "great" we may have this parenthesis sup- 
plied "in that severer test." 

Take also these sentences, and expand them elliptic- 

Not alone for the one short moment in which, stunned and dazed, 
he could give up life, hardly aware of its relinquishment, but through 
days of deadly languor, through weeks of agony, that was not less ag- 
ony because silently borne, with clear sight and calm courage, he 
looked into his open grave. 

From the same speech: 

Gently, silently, the love of a great nation bore the pale sufferer to 
the longed-for healing of the sea, to live or to die, as God should will, 
within sight of its heaving billows, within sound of its manifold voices. 
With wan, fevered face tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze he looked 
out wistfully upon the ocean's changing wonders; on its fair sails, 
whitening in the morning light ; on its restless waves, rolling shore- 
ward to break and die beneath the noonday sun ; on the red clouds of 
evening arching low to the horizon ; on the serene and shining 
pathway of the stars. Let us think that his dying eyes read a mystic 
meaning which only the wrapt and parting soul may know. Let us 
believe that in the silence of the receding world he heard the great 
waves breaking on a further shore, and felt already upon his wasted 
brow the breath of the eternal morning. 

Take also this speech of Brutus: 

Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause ; and be si- 


lent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour; and have respect to 
mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom ; and 
awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in 
this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say that Brutus' 
love to Caesar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why 
Brutus rose against C?esar, this is my answer, — Not that I loved Caesar 
less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, 
and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all freemen? As 
Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; 
as he was valiant, I honour him : but as he was ambitious, I slew him. 
There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour ; 
and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a 
bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so 
rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I of- 
fended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, 
speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply. 

— Julius Ccesar, III. , 2. 

In these passages point out the words, if any, that 
are essentially parenthetical, and that might be implied 
by the intonation and by rhetorical pause. Also spec- 
ify other thoughts plainly suggested; indicate where 
they might be interpolated; actually write them in; 
then read the words of the original text in the light of 
your paraphrase. 

Abundant examples for elliptical paraphrasing may 
be found in the Gospels and Epistles, and in the Psalms; 
in almost any of the sententious passages of Shake- 
speare, and in poetry generally. 

The Prosaic Paraphrase. — In this the purpose 
is to reduce poetry to prose as nearly equivalent in 
meaning as possible. It serves to correct the cantish > 
sing-song style, so prevalent in the reading of poetry; 


and, deeper than this, to revivify the impression, which 
the poetic form, especially in familiar selections, is likely 
somewhat to dull. 

The student need not be disturbed by the fact that 
the paraphrase will often be intrinsically inferior to the 
poetry- The paraphrase is made simply as ameans of 
fuller and more appreciative vocal rendering of the 
poet's thought; not as a substitute for that thought. 
This end is secured by compelling one's mind to ana- 
lyze the thought, and so to receive a fresher and more 
vivid impression. 

The translation, here offered, of Tennyson's " Bugle 
Song" is one of a number of possible interpretations. 
It is helpful to the reader to adopt some definite, self- 
consistent interpretation that will open to his own 
mind more of the depth and beauty of the thought. 
Let each one, in accordance with his own view, amplify 
somewhat the scene as given in the first stanza; trans- 
late into more tangible, even if weaker, forms the oft- 
repeated phrases, which, even because of their lofty 
and refined expression, are likely to escape the grasp 
of the ordinary imagination; and interpret to him- 
self, by fuller expansion, the beautiful contrast between 
symbols and the thing symbolized, which closes this 
wonderful song of love. 

To assume to offer as an equivalent any paraphrase 
'one might make, would of course be an affront, not 
only to the author, but, as well, to every appreciative 
reader; to prepare one } s own mind more fully to express 


Tennyson's words, by thus first bringing them clown to 
the reader's own level, is quite another thing. 

The splendor falls on castle walls 

And snowy summits old in story ; 
The long light shakes across the lakes, 
And the wild cataract leaps in glory. 
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 
Oh, hark! Oh, hear! how thin and clear, 

And thinner, clearer, farther going! 
Oh, sweet and far, from cliff and scar, 

The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! 
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : 
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. 
O love, they die in yon rich sky, 

They faint on hill or field or river; 
Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 
And grow forever and forever. 
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, 
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. 
The mellow, brilliant light now glorifies the turrets and embrasures 
of yon ancient fortress, and tints the historic peaks of the hoary 
mountains towering above us. The westering sun sends slanting rays, 
which shimmer on the water ; and the free, glad stream, rejoicing 
in the fullness of its life, gives itself to its destined course with confi- 
dent abandon, throwing out its glorious torrents resplendent in the 
smile of heaven. And while we gaze, hark to that floating strain of 
melody ! Oh ! let the bugle tones awake the echoes from hill and valley ! 
Listen! how the sounds grow fainter, fainter, but still musical, and 
lingeringly sweet! Hark again! how thrillingly resonant, and yet how airy 
and dreamlike, asitseems to leaveus, throwing back its soft "good-bye"! 
How transporting come those enchanting melodies, refined from all 
the noises of the earth below, and, like the airy peaks that buoyantly 
re-echo them, upraising fancy to ideal heights, where spirit dwells, 
unmixed with baser matter! Let these sprite voices once again remind 
us of that higher spirit-life whose peaks of pure affection reach, as 
these hill-tops do, far into heaven. 


My love, these mellow sounds, and those rich colors in our sky, stay 
but a moment; we turn our ear to catch the last reverberation, and it 
sounds no more; we search the purpling sky for those bright tints we 
saw but now — they gleam no longer. Not like them is our love. 
It only swells the fuller, as chord awakens answering chord in our re- 
sponsive souls. There is no tendency in love-tones to grow feeble, nor 
in love-lighted skies to pale and darken. The song of love is but en- 
hanced with each reverberation, and so its volume and its sweetness 
shall increase to all eternity. 

Then let the glad-voiced horn once more sound forth the notes that 
feebly tell our spirits' quivering, trembling, yet exultant joy; and 
as its tones, reflected, die away, let our souls repeat, yet once again, 
that truer, spiritual song, whose echoes never cease. 

The following poetic passages are suggested as 
especially helpful in this work: The Burial of Moses, 
by Mrs. Alexander; The Psalm of Life, by Longfellow; 
Moral Warfare, Song of the Free, My Soul and I, The 
Prisoner for Debt, by Whittier; passages from The Pres- 
ent Crisis, and The Vision of Sir Launfal, by Lowell; 
the Waterfowl, The West Wind, Autumn Woods, 
March, Waiting by the Gate, Death of the Flowers, 
The Hurricane, and the Hymn of the Sea, by Bryant. 
Be sure that each sentence or clause in the prose para- 
phrase translates the corresponding element in the 
poetry; and let it, further, really add some interpreta- 
tion, or some helpful comment. 

The changing of the phraseology may be thought to 
belong to literary criticism rather than to vocal expres- 
sion. The reply is, this device only suggests a rational 
method of doing that which every intelligent reader or 
speaker is constantly doing, and must continually do ; viz. 


make a running commentary on the passage, while 
VOCAL INTERPRETATION. This process of mentally re- 
stating the thought before expressing it, will largely elim- 
inate from the delivery the elements of cant and lifeless- 
ness. A passage, or a form of words, long familiar to one, 
ceases to have for him the freshness of lately discovered, 
or newly stated, truth ; and the habit of freely paraphras- 
ing will almost necessitate that freshness and vividness 
of impression which is indispensable to a genuine de- 
livery. This study in paraphrasing, then, belongs 
directly and pre-eminently to that part of elocutionary 
training which has to do with the mental preparation 
for speech: it is a natural element in the study of 
rhetorical delivery. 

Examples. — Find suitable passages in literature to 
illustrate all the above kinds of paraphrases. 

First. Actually write such paraphrases, then learn 
to tJiink them rapidly. Always remember that the 
purpose throughout this work is to reformulate and 
restate the matter given, and to suggest accompanying 
thoughts, plainly implied, as a means of gaining a 
fresher, deeper impression of the thing to be said. 
This constitutes the mental part of Expressional Tech- 
nique: and itself does much both to prepare for, and 
to vitalize, the physical part of the technique. 





We must subordinate the component effect to the total effect. 

— Herbert Spencer. 

Deliberation as a mood of utterance is, 

Subjectively, the purpose on the part of the speaker 
to present to the mind of the listener thought-elements y 
— thought which for the purpose of communication is 
viewed discretively, separately, and not in connection or 
relations. It addresses the perceptive faculties of the 
mind, and is typically adapted to the expression of 
matter needing orderly presentation — fact, narrative, 

Objectively, itis that property in utterance which serves 
to express this purpose. It contributes especially to 
structure in speech, and is pre-eminently the formulative 
element in communication. Its tone exponent is time. 

The special occasions for Deliberation are in — 

I. — Introductory Matter. (i) Explanatory, (2) 
Adaptative, (3) Conciliatory, (4) Incentive. 

II. — Propositional Matter. (1) Formal Proposi- 
tions, (2) Definitions, (3) All Thought Logically Im- 
portant, Weighty, or Conclusive. 

III. — Transitional Matter. Whatever merely con- 
nects one division, paragraph, or sentence with another. 

Each of these three main divisions will be discussed 
in a separate chapter. 




The various types of Introductory Matter will be 
found to differ from each other in their secondary 
elements. The general purpose, which is the same in 
all forms of introduction, is that of preparation. As 
preparatory, the introductory sentence or passage 
serves to place before the mind some fact or truth 
which is to be received as a basis, or as a point of de- 
parture for other thoughts that are to follow. The 
strictly introductory element is, thus, matter of percep- 
tion or Deliberation. 

1. The Explanatory introduction exhibits it in its 
purest type, since there is usually nothing but the 
placing before the listener of simple fact in anticipation 
of some further use to be made of such matter or of 
related thoughts to which this may lead. The purely 
deliberative nature of such introductory matter is seen 
in the fact that it appeals to nothing but the intelli- 

Examples of Explanatory Introduction. — It sometimes hap- 
pens on certain coasts of Brittany or Scotland, that a man — traveler 
or fisherman — walking on the beach at low tide, far from the bank, 
suddenly notices that for several minutes he has been walking with 
some difficulty. The strand beneath his feet is like pitch; his soles 
stick to it: it is sand no longer, it is glue. The beach is perfectly dry ; 


but at every step he takes, as soon as he lifts his foot, the print which 
it leaves fills with water. — Hugo. 

John Maynard was well known in the lake district as a God- 
fearing, honest, and intelligent pilot. He was pilot on a steamboat 
from Detroit to Buffalo. One summer afternoon — at that time those 
steamers seldom carried boats — smoke was seen ascending from be- 
low. — Gough. 

It was autumn. Hundreds had wended their way from pilgrim- 
ages, . .all of them saying in their hearts, "We will wait for 
the September gales to have done with their equinoctial fury, and then 
we will embark." — Beecher. 

2. The Adaptive introduction naturally employs 
some discrimination, since comparison is. almost neces- 
sarily prominent in adaptation. Yet this discrimina- 
tive element is plainly subservient to the deliberative 
purpose of calling attention to the thing to be said or 

Examples. — Fellow-citizens: It is no ordinary cause that has 
brought together this vast assemblage. We have met, not to prepare 
ourselves for political contests; we have met, not to celebrate the 
achievements of those gallant men who have planted our victorious 
standards in the heart of an enemy's country; we have assembled, not 
to respond to shouts of triumph from the West; but to answer the 
cry of want and suffering which comes from the East. — Prentiss. 

No general theory of expression seems yet to have been enunciated. 
The maxims contained in works on composition and rhetoric, are pre- 
sented in an unorganized form. Standing as isolated dogmas — as em- 
pirical generalizations, — they are neither so clearly apprehended, nor so 
much respected, as they would be were they deduced from some simple 
first principle. We are told that " brevity is the soul of wit." We 
hear styles condemned as verbose or involved. . . . But, how- 
ever influential the truths thus dogmatically embodied, they would 
be much more influential if reduced to something like scientific 
ordination. In this, as in other cases, conviction will be greatly 
strengthened when we understand the why. And we may be sure that 


a comprehension of the general principle from which the rules of com- 
position result, will not only bring them home to us with greater force, 
but will discover to us other rules of like origin. — Spencer. 

3. The Conciliatory introduction may be modified 
by discrimination, and usually will be tinged with emo- 
tion, yet, as an introduction, its main purpose is to 
present considerations to the understanding. It is, 
therefore, truly deliberative. 

Examples. — Against the prisoner at the bar, as an individual, I can 
not have the slightest prejudice ; I would not do him the smallest 
injury or injustice. — Webster. 

Mr. President: No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriot- 
ism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just 
addressed the house. But different men often see the same thing in a 
different light; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespect- 
ful to those gentlemen, if, entertaining, as I do, opinions of a charac- 
ter very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely 
and without reserve. — Patrick Henry. 

Acts xix. 35, 36: And when the town clerk had quieted the multi- 
tude, he saith, Ye men of Ephesus, what man is there who knoweth 
not how that the city of the Ephesians is temple-keeper of the great 
Diana, and of the image which fell down from Jupiter? Seeing then, 
that these things cannot be gainsaid, ye ought to be quiet, and to do 
nothing rash. 

Acts xxvi. 2, 3: I think myself happy, king Agrippa, that I am to 
make my defense before thee this day touching all the things whereof 
I am accused by the Jews : especially because thou art expert in all 
customs and questions which are among the Jews ; wherefore I beseech 
thee to hear me patiently. 

See also Julius Caesar III., 2; Acts xvii. 22 and xxiv. 2. 

4. The Incentive introduction is designed to move 
the will, but this is subordinate to the deliberative pur- 
pose of gaining the attention. Otherwise it is not 
truly introductory. 


Examples. — This, my lords, is a perilous and tremendous moment. 
— Chatham. 

My sentiments, I am sure, are well known to him; and I thought 
I had been perfectly acquainted with his. Though I find myself mista- 
ken, he will still permit me to use the privilege of an old friendship ; he 
will permit me to apply myself to the House under the sanction of his 
authority ; and, on the various grounds he has measured out, to submit 
to you the poor opinions which I have formed upon a matter of im- 
portance enough to demand the fullest consideration I could bestow 
upon it. — Burke. 

Soldiers, if I were leading into battle the army which I had in Gaul, 
I should have had no need to address you ; for what encouragement 
would be needed by those horsemen who had so gloriously conquered 
the enemy's cavalry on the Rhone, or by those legions with whom I 
pursued these very enemies and in their retreat and refusal of battle 
received their confession of defeat? 

Now, since that army, enrolled for the province of Spain, is waging 
war by my direction under the command of my brother Cnseus Scipio 
in that land where the Senate and Roman people wished it to fight, 
and since — that you might have a consul as your leader against Hanni- 
bal and the Carthaginians — I have voluntarily offered myself for this 
conflict, the new general must say a few words to his new soldiers. — 
Scipio to the Romans. 

Mr. President, we must distinguish a little. — Choate. 
Sir, this proposition is so glaring, so unprecedented in any former 
proceedings of Parliament, so unwarranted by any delay, denial, or 
provocation of justice in America, so big with misery and oppression 
to that country, and with danger to this, — that the first blush of it is 
sufficient to alarm and rouse me to opposition. — Barre. 

Introductory matter usually requires a medium 
movement tending to slow, because the thought is 
presumably new, not apprehended. The attitude is 
usually that of " Repose"; action, slight, — little or no 
gesture. Exception is, of course, made in the last 
type — the incentive — where considerable energy of ac- 
tion may appear. 




WHAT is meant by Propositional Matter is perhaps 
sufficiently explained by the name, which is employed 
with much of its etymological meaning in mind. It is, 
essentially, whatever lays down or places before the 
mind that which has some weight in itself. 

It differs from introduction in that introduction leads 
to something following, while proposition is the things 
to which the thought has been led. 

There is thus an element of finality in it — a settled, 
substantial character not found in any other form of 
deliberation. It is the nearest to energy, from which 
it differs by not appealing to the will. It appeals to 
the intelligence with the greatest force. It typically 
presents a principle to be discussed or a truth to be 
received. It includes : 

1. Formal Proposition; as, 

The principle involved is that of individual liberty. 

A straight line cannot meet the circumference in more than two 

The principle of free governments adheres to the American soil. 

Our history hitherto proves that the popular form of government is 

The formal proposition gives the purest type of De- 
liberation. It is well illustrated by the simple "reveal- 


ing" gesture. Its tone is open, steady, and moderately 
full. To characterize by a single word, we may say 
that the formally propositional is expressed by breadth 
of tone. 

2. Definition; as, 

Gravity is the tendency of a mass of matter toward the center of 

Communism is an attempt to overthrow the institutions of private 

Perfect taste is the faculty of receiving the greatest possible pleasure 
from those material sources which are attractive to our moral nature in 
its purity and perfection. He who receives little pleasure from these 
sources, wants taste; he who receives pleasure from any other sources, 
has false or bad taste. . . . But although everything in nature is 
more or less beautiful, every species of object has its own kind and 
degree of beauty ; some being in their own nature more beautiful than 
others, and few, if any individuals possessing the utmost degree of 
beauty of which the species is capable. This utmost degree of specific 
beauty, necessarily coexistent with the utmost perfection of the object 
in other respects, is the ideal of the object. . . . Every thought, 
or definite exertion of intellect, implies two subjects, and some con- 
nection or relation inferred between them. By the term "ideas of 
relation," then, I mean to express all those sources of pleasure which 
involve and require, at the instant of their perception, active exertion 
of the intellectual powers. — Ruskin. 

Definitive propositional matter is perceptibly tinged 
with Discrimination. It is separative, indicative, speci- 
fying, particularizing, or amplifying, and is illustrated by 
gestures that "define" or " indicate," rather than "re- 
veal." Its tone, likewise, is thinner and more pointed 
than that of formal proposition. 

3. All thought logically important, weighty, 
or conclusive; as, 


God hath not cast away his people whom He foreknew. 
I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain. 
There is no refuge from confession but in suicide, and suicide is 

This class may be subdivided thus: 

(a) Logically important thought, blending the ele- 
ments of transition, definition, and weight; its pure 
type is found in a chain of reasoning. 

Example. — It need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less 
auspicious, political revolutions elsewhere, even when well intended, have 
terminated differently. It is, indeed, a great achievement, it is the master- 
work of the 'world, to establish governments entirely popular on lasting 
foundations; nor is it easy, indeed, to introduce the popular principle 
at all into governments to which it has been altogether a stranger. It 
cannot be doubted, however, that Europe has come out of the contest 
in which she has been so long engaged, with greatly superior knowledge, 
and, in many respects, in a highly improved condition. Whatever 
benefit has been acquired is likely to be retained, for it consists mainly 
in the acquisition of more enlightened ideas. And although kingdoms 
and provinces may be wrested from the hands that hold them, in the 
same manner they were obtained; although ordinary and vulgar power 
may, in human affairs, be lost as it has been won ; yet it is the glorious 
prerogative of the empire of knowledge, that what it gains it never 
loses. On the contrary, it increases by the multiple of its own power ; 
all its ends become means ; all its attainments, helps to new conquests. 
Its whole abundant harvest is but so much seed wheat, and nothing 
has limited, and nothing can limit, the amount of ultimate product. — 

(b) Comprehensive or generalized thought, character- 
ized by breadth, fullness, a large suggestiveness. 

Examples. — We live in a most extraordinary age. 

The more carefully the structure of this celebrated ministry is exam- 
ined, the more shall we see reason to marvel at the skill, or the luck, 
which had combined in one harmonious whole such varied, and, as it 


seemed, incompatible elements of force. — Macaulay on The Earl of 

What, then, is the true and peculiar principle of the American revo- 
lution, and of the systems of government which it has confirmed and 
established ? 

(V) Conclusive or summarizing thought; reflective, 
serious, practically important. 

Examples. — Wherefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, un- 
movable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye 
lenow that your labor is not vain in the Lord. 

Thus the great principle of your Revolutionary fathers, and of your 
Pilgrim sires, was the rule of his life — the love of liberty protected by 
law. — Everett on Lafayette. 

He only is advancing in life whose heart is getting softer, whose 
blood warmer, whose brain quicker ; whose spirit is entering into living 
peace. And the men who have this life in them are the true kings or 
lords of the earth — they, and they only. — Ruskin in Sesame and 

This type (3) is colored with emotion, or energy, or 
both; its pantomimic representation is the attitude of 
Force in Repose, Animation or Physical Support, ac- 
companied, often, by the double " revealing," the " af- 
firming," or the " supporting" gesture. 

Propositional matter requires slow movement to 
typify the graver importance and weight. The voice is 
the strongest, fullest, deepest, most suggestive of ellip- 
sis, and of recapitulation, condensation, and hearty ap- 
preciation of the thought. 

The vocal element of "quantity" is here of especial 
use. Technically, quantity is a prolongation of sounds, 
observed especially in vowels and in semi-vowel conso- 
nants, whereas pause is a distinct cessation of sound. 


In mental significance they are also very different. 
Quantity represents the mind as dwelling on the thought 
which is at the moment before the attention; pause 
turns the mind away from the uttered thought to some 
related thought, or to the relations of the different 
thoughts expressed in the several groups of words. 

It may be well at this point to anticipate somewhat 
the vocal drill in ''quantities" which is given in the 
chapter on Vocal Technique. 

These different types of propositional matter may be 
helpfully paraphrased by expansion, since they are 
in themselves condensative rather than amplifying. Any 
of the above examples may be thus treated for class 
practice. Such material also as Lincoln's Gettysburg 
speech, Blaine's Eulogy on Garfield, Webster's Bunker 
Hill Monument orations, are commended for further 




In Transitional Matter is included whatever merely 
connects one division, paragraph, or sentence with 

Examples. — I therefote, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you 
that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called. — Eph. 
iv. I, forming a transition between the two main divisions of the epistle. 
And then, besides his unimpeachable character, he had, what is half 
the power of a popular orator, a majestic presence. — Wendell Phillips 
on J Connell. 

It must be observed here that we emphasize the 
word "use." The question is not, in any case, whether 
the sentence before us is one that might be transitional, 
or one that we have seen used transitionally in some 
other connection; but simply, whether it is so used in 
this connection. It may often happen that words con- 
taining in themselves great weight, or words often used 
propositionally, are in other situations used only in a 
transitional way. This will occur, e. g. y in case of rep- 
etition that is made for the sake of resuming a pre- 
vious thought, or of connecting thoughts. Such are 
many passages in St. Paul's writings, and one makes a 
great mistake, when reading a passage as a connected 
whole, if he pauses to give propositional fullness to 
words or clauses that are merely transitional, though in 
other connections they might be full and weighty. In 


the nature of the case, any thought connected with 
such great topics as St. Paul discussed, might be con- 
sidered propositionally weighty, and it may sometimes 
be necessary to appear to cheapen slightly the intrinsic 
significance of a passage, for the sake of putting it into 
its true position, and giving it its due relative weight. 
An example of this may be found in Romans xi. 12: 
"Now if their fall is the riches of the world, and their 
loss the riches of the Gentiles; how much more their 
fullness?" In the first and second clauses the words 
"fall," "riches," "world," " Gentiles," and "fullness," 
are intrinsically of great weight, but, in their connec- 
tion, are only resumptive and transitional. Another, 
at the 16th verse: "If the first fruit rs holy, so is the 
lump, and if the root is holy, so are the branches." 
The thoughts are intrinsically significant and important, 
but in their connection they are doubtless assumed as 
a well-known and easily accepted analogy, leading rap- 
idly to the application of the great principle under dis- 
cussion, which comes into its due position of importance 
in the following verse; and the 16th might be thus in- 
terpreted by paraphrase: "And as the first fruit and 
lump are of the same quality, as root and branch are 
alike, so you, Gentiles (verse 17), being grafted upon 
the original, Jewish stock, become an essential part 
thereof." If the transitional thought had been joined 
to the following proposition by the use of the connect- 
ives as and so, or by any other words that we are 
in the habit of recognizing as connectives, w r e should 


at once see that the reference to lump and branch are 
truly transitional. As the passage stands in the text 
it appears independent and declarative. Moreover, the 
germinal truth contained in the illustration is so inter- 
esting that it naturally detains us upon it, and inclines 
us to give it a disproportionate weight. We find ex- 
amples of the same principle in the Epistle to the 
Ephesians, notably in the second chapter, verses 4 to 
10, which constitute a transition amounting, rhetori- 
cally, to a digression, — the thoughts themselves being 
so noble and exalted that it is difficult to give them 
their logical, transitional bearing. And yet it is quite 
impossible to get the connection of the chapter and 
of the epistle as *a whole, unless we read these seven 
verses as transitional. The true interpretation of many 
such passages from the Scriptures, and of extracts from 
secular writings of great dignity and weight, is often 
enfeebled in its logical character by the failure to dis- 
cern transitional use. Thus the pulpit reader and ora- 
tor, the political declaimer, and not infrequently the 
literary aspirant, unconsciously defeat their own ends 
by elevating the secondary into the place of the pri- 

In their day and generation they served and honored the country, 
and the whole country ; and their renown is of the treasures of the 
whole country. Him whose honored name the gentleman himself 
bears, does he esteem me less capable of gratitude for his patriotism, 
or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first opened upon 
the light of Massachusetts instead of South Carolina? — Daniel Web- 
ster, in Speech on Massachusetts and South Carolina, 


This passage, as used by Webster, was strictly transi- 
tional, connecting the two thoughts, " I claim them for 
my countrymen, one and all, . . . Americans, all"; 
and (paraphrased) " whether from Massachusetts or 
from South Carolina." The fact that service to the 
whole country, honor from the whole country, and 
treasures of the whole country, are intrinsically import- 
ant and vocally voluminous, is almost certain to over- 
ride the rhetorical insight and analysis, which would 
recognize the logical subordination and the transitional 
character of the passage. It is not at all meant that 
any passage, because it is transitional, is to be insignifi- 
cant or trivial. The question is that of the relative 
weight of transitional and propositional thought. 

The natural and rhetorical requirements of a good 
transition must be kept in mind in order fully to appre- 
ciate the kind of utterance it demands. Connecting 
the two thoughts between which it stands, it assumes 
at least one of them, usually the first, to be already in 
the mind. Hence more rapid movement and a lighter 
tone will be allowable, especially in the first part of a 
transition. Toward its close the transitional passage 
will often merge into propositional, as it approaches 
newer or more important matter. 

There will generally be a change in the attitude of 
the body, often in the position on the floor. This 
change typifies the transition in thought, and occurs 
during the transitional words. 

A very common error, especially among students, is 


that of making the bodily transition in silence. It 
seems to indicate temporary absence of mind, suggest- 
ing failure of memory, or some other cause of embar- 
rassment. The body, in its positions and movements, 
should indicate the attitude of the mind and the prog- 
ress of the thought. 

The doctrine of transitional use of words has been 
thus briefly formulated and illustrated. It does not 
seem to require more instruction; it does, however, re- 
quire much careful study upon passages like those here 
quoted, to enable the student accurately and promptly 
to recognize this element in expression. 





Consider the significance of silence. 

— Carlyle. 

As has been already said, the tone-element that 
specially expresses Deliberation is Time. 

Time may be measured in its general application in 
the entire passage; it is then called rate. 

Rate will vary with the kind of deliberative matter. 
The transitional, as a rule, requires the fastest, and the 
propositional the slowest; the introductory being me- 
dium. The reasons for this will appear, on reflection 
as to the nature and purpose of these different kinds 
of deliberative matter. Rate is the equalized, distrib- 
uted, average movement. It does not appear in hud- 
dled syllables, nor in chasms of silence. The voice 
may be sounding almost continuously in a slow move- 
ment; or, it may be often silent, in a quick rate. 

A more thorough study of rate comes later. For 
the present our end will best be secured by a study of 
the grouping of words into elements. 

The clearness of statement or of deliberative em- 
phasis, in all varieties of this mood, is largely affected 
by the measurement of the words in phrases or groups ~ 


This grouping is affected by pauses or momentary ces- 
sations of sound. 

The necessity of grouping is very generally overlooked. 
To secure clearness and distinctness in the arrange- 
ment of the elements, is an absolute requisite for clear 
expression. Scarcely less vital is it to distinguish 
what is primary and what is secondary, what principal 
and what subordinate, in the elements of thought and 
expression. This will often be indicated by the mere 
groupings of the words. Intellectual clearness, dis- 
cernment, and method, are shown by groupings more 
than by almost any other element of vocal expression. 

I. Elements that are simple, and placed close to- 
gether, have the slightest pause-separation. This may 
be indicated by a single bar (|). 2. Elements some- 
what complex, or slightly separated in the structure, 
require somewhat greater pause, which might be indi- 
cated by a double bar(|j). 3. Elements very com- 
plex or widely separated in the sentence must have 
larger pause. This might be represented by a triple 
bar (III). Illustrations: — (1) John | came. John | 
came | yesterday. (2) Johnson 1 1 the brother-in-law- 
of- Adams | the-tailor 1 1 came | | as-soon-as-he-heard | 
the-terrible-news. (3) David | | so-great-was-his-inter- 
est-in-the-case | | returned | to-the-city [| on-the-first | 
train I J that-left [| after-he-had-finished | his-necessary- 


The hyphens indicate that the words between which 
they are placed form together a single element, like a 
compound word. 

Places for Pause. — i. Between subject and 
predicate, and between predicate and object, when the 
subject or object is substantive or anything used as 
such, or a pronoun, if interrogative or demonstrative. 
The personal or the relative pronoun together with the 
verb of the dependent clause often forms a single ele- 
ment equivalent to a substantive, participle, adjective, or 
adverb. In such cases the clause is the unit, and be- 
tween its elements there need be no pause. This is 
true of any element used substantively, pronominally, 
adjectively, or adverbially. 

It is true also of every case of hendiadys; and when 
several elements are joined together, the first point to 
be determined is whether each one is to be received as 
a separate item, or whether a single image or thought 
is to be conveyed through the combined terms. Thus: 

I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, 
But I should think of shallows and of flats. 

Here "shallows' and flats" probably constitute the 
double name for a single object. If so, the two sub- 
stantives together with the connective particles are to 
be treated practically as a single word. 

In John ix. 18 we have a strong example of a single 
element expressed by along group: 

The Jews therefore did not believe concerning him, that he had 


been blind, and had received his sight, until they called the parents of 
him that had received his sight. 

The words "that he had been blind and had received 
his sight" are, in this connection, a single element, 
equivalent to "the reported fact"; also the clause mod- 
ifying "parents" is a single element equivalent to the 
simple personal pronoun, "his." 

2. Between a principal element (as subject, predi- 
cate, or object) and its modifiers. An element of the 
first class — a single word — usually requires the shortest 
pause (|). ( One of the second — a phrase — somewhat 
longer ( || ). One of the third — a clause — longer still 


3. Before and after parenthesis, interjection, illative, 
or vocative. 

Illustrate all the ahove. 

Remarks. — 1. Connectives, used strictly as such, generally obviate 
necessity for pause. 2. Pauses have no absolute length. 3. Punctua- 
tion is no adequate guide. Analyze the sentence. 

NOTE. — In speaking of the remaining kinds of 
pauses we are obliged to anticipate somewhat the 
other moods of utterance. All pauses, however, are 
in part deliberative or formulative. 

Pauses are of four kinds: 

1. Grammatical. — These merely assist the 
grouping of words into constituent elements of the 
sentence. Such pauses are the most mechanical of all, 
being a mere cessation of speech. They are like the 
breaks that separate the groups of sounds in telegra- 


phy, or like the spacing and paragraphing on a well- 
arranged printed page. Eveiy element in the sen- 
tence must be separated appreciably from the other 
elements, the length of pause being, as already ex- 
plained, dependent on the length and importance of 
the elements. 

"Element" here means a rhetorical unit. It may > 
or it may not, coincide with the grammatical unit. 
The test is found in the mind's reception of the ideas, 
images, thoughts, or inferences conveyed. As a rule a 
new thing js received in parts, not as a whole; when it 
has become familiar, the parts disappear, as separate 
items, and unite in one image or idea. So the parts 
of a sentence or proposition when first presented are 
mentally separated, but afterward are blended in one. 
What constitutes an element may therefore often be 
determined by inquiring whether the thought is here 
presented for the first time or not. Matter that is re- 
peated, resumptive or easily taken for granted, will 
admit of much larger and freer groupings than that 
which is new or explanatory. 

Practical Study of Grammatical Grouping'. 

— In the following examples determine what groups of 
words form elements, or thought-units; decide as to 
the relative length of pauses — short, medium, or long; 
— and mark them with single, double, or triple bars > 
as above described. 

I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, 
as in what direction we are moving; to reach the port of heaven, we 


must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it, — but we 
must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor. — Holmes. 

There is a perennial nobleness, and even sacredness in work. Were 
lie never so benighted, forgetful of his high calling, there is always 
hope in a man that actually and earnestly works. In idleness alone 
there is perpetual despair. 

The man without a purpose is like a ship without a rudder; a waif, 
a nothing, a no man. Have a purpose in life, if it is only to kill and 
divide and sell oxen well, but have a purpose ; and having it, throw 
such strength of mind and muscle into your work as God has given 

The older I grow — and I now stand upon the brink of eternity — the 
more comes back to me the sentence in the catechism which I learned 
when a child, and the fuller and deeper becomes its meaning: " What 
is the chief end of man? To glorify God, and to enjoy him forever." 
— Carlyle. 

The study of grouping will shed some light upon 
the difficult subject of punctuation, especially as to the 
use of commas. Whether a clause shall be "set 01!" 
or not, often turns on the nice question, whether it is 
most truly and most economically viewed as a separate 
element, or as part of another element. Thus, for ex- 
ample, a relative clause, if used definitively, is, in 
strictness, a part of the element that it helps to define, 
and should not be set off by a comma; whereas the 
same clause, if conceived as supplemental, is not an 
organic part of the principal clause, to which it is an 
appendage, or addition: it should, therefore, be sep- 
arated either by a comma or by some stronger punctu- 

In the sentence: 

I returned the goods to the agent through whom I bought them, 


if the purpose of the relative clause is to designate 
which agent, then the clause is "definitive," and should 
not be set off: it is to be closely joined to the word 
" agent," which it limits. This is clearly seen by con- 
densing the clause to a single word and placing that 
word before "agent," thus: 

I returned the goods to the selling agent ; or, to the operating, or 
responsible, or soliciting, agent. 

If, however, the relative clause was designed, not to 
specify what agent was meant, but to give the reason 
for returning the goods to him; or merely to give the 
added fact that they were purchased through him, then 
the clause is "supplemental," and should be set off by 
-a comma, thus: 

I returned the goods to the agent, through whom I bought them. 

In this case the principal clause stands in the relation 
that we shall later know as " momentary completeness," 
which is usually expressed in the voice by falling slide, 
as well as by pause. It may be paraphrased into two 
complete propositions; thus: 

I returned the goods to the agent. He was the one to take them, 
because he sold them to me. 

We cannot always determine by the form of the rel- 
ative pronoun employed whether the definitive or the 
supplemental office of the clause was intended. In 
general "that" introduces definitive clauses, while 
clauses of a supplemental nature are introduced by 
"who," or "which." But considerations of euphony, 
— not to speak of the carelessness even of good writers, 


— often override strict rhetorical distinctions; and 
practically we are thrown back upon the logical and 
expressional analysis. 

Again, the connective " or " may unite different mem- 
bers of the same element, as in the case of antithesis: 

Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd; 

Bring with thee airs from Heaven or blasts from Hell ; 

Be thy intents wicked or charitable; 

Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, 

That I will speak to thee. 

— Ha?nlet /., 4. 

In this case, though there is a slight vocal pause be- 
tween the members of each antithesis, no comma is 
written; and each antithesis is viewed as a whole, 
rather than in its components; thus: 

Whoever thou art, 

Whatever thou bringest, 

With whatsoever intent thou comest. 

The essential continuity, or connectedness, of the 
parts will be well seen by placing the correlative 
"either" before the first member. This will indicate 
that the two things contrasted are held before the mind 
at the same moment. 

Be thy intents either wicked or charitable. 
Neither a borrower nor a lender be. 

The same conjunction may stand between elements 
that are appositive, particularizing, or explanatory; in 
which case it is properly preceded by a comma to indi- 
cate the supplemental use of the second element; as: 

You then erect the supports, or the pillars. (Synonymous.) 


Let me say something of history in general before I descend into 
the consideration of particular parts of it, or of the various meth- 
ods of study, or of the different views of those that apply themselves 
to it, as I had begun to do in my former letter. (Particularizing.) 

Decide on the use, or uses, of "or" in the following 
example, and study the effect upon the vocal groupings 
and pauses. 

The seeds which are to prolong the race, innumerable according to 
the need, are made beautiful and palatable, varied into infinitude of 
appeal to the fancy of man, or provision for his service ; cold juice, or 
glowing spice, or balm, or incense, softening oil, preserving resin, 
medicine of styptic, febrifuge, or lulling charm: and all these pre- 
sented in forms of endless change. Fragility or force, softness and 
strength, in all degrees and aspects ; unerring uprightness, as of temple 
pillars, or undivided wandering of feeble tendrils on the ground ; 
mighty resistances of rigid arm and limb to the storms of ages, or 
wavings to and fro with faintest pulse of summer streamlet. Roots 
cleaving the strength of rock, or binding the transience of the sand; 
crests basking in sunshine of the desert, or hiding by dripping spring 
and lightless cave; foliage far tossing in entangled fields beneath every 
wave of ocean — clothing with variegated, everlasting films, the peaks 
of the trackless mountains, or ministering at cottage doors to every 
gentlest passion and simplest joy of humanity. — Ruskin. 

The same is true of the correlatives "both" and 
"and." When the two are present, especially in a 
brief or closely packed sentence, they usually indicate 
that the mind is comprehending both members of the 
comparison in one and the same view. 

For loan oft loses both itself and friend. 

This approaches the closeness of the "periodic" 
structure, the "suspense" being conveyed by the antic- 
ipatory "both." 

On the other hand, when " and" occurs alone, merely 


adding another element, as if by afterthought, we have 
the tendency to "loose" structure, which will usually 
be shown in print by commas, and will always be 
marked in the voice by pauses. It must be borne in 
mind that "both" is often to be thought where it is not 
written; also, that "and" often connects two words or 
phrases that by hendiadys form only one element. 

In the following examples find cases of connectives 
used differently; and according to the use decide the 
grouping. Remember that the logical and rhetorical 
analysis, rather than the punctuation, must decide the 
relation of elements, and must determine the groupings 
and the pauses. Justify or correct the punctuation, 
and mark the pauses by bars as above described. 

Throughout this beautiful and wonderful creation there is never- 
ceasing motion, without rest by night or day, ever weaving to and fro. 
Swifter than a weaver's shuttle, it flies from birth to death, from death 
to birth; from the beginning seeks the end and finds it not; for the 
seeming end is only a dim beginning of a new out-going and endeavor 
after the end. As the ice upon the mountain, when the warm breath 
of the summer's sun breathes upon it, melts, and divides into drops, 
each of which reflects an image of the sun, so life, in the smile of 
God's love, divides itself into separate forms, each bearing in it, and 
reflecting, an image of God's love. — Longfellow. 

But neither climate nor poverty, neither studies nor the sorrows of a 
home-sick exile, could tame the desperate audacity of his spirit. He 
behaved to his official superiors as he had behaved to his school- 
masters, and was several times in danger of losing his situation. 
Twice, while residing in the Writers' Building, he attempted to des- 
troy himself; and twice the pistol which he snapped at his own head 
failed to go off. This circumstance, it is said, affected him as a similar 
escape affected Wallenstein. After satisfying himself that the pistol 
was really well loaded, he burst forth into an exclamation that surely 


he was reserved for something great. ...... 

There can be little doubt that this great empire, powerful and pros- 
perous as it appears on a superficial view, was yet, even in its best 
days, far worse governed than the worst governed parts of Europe now 
are. The administration was tainted with all the vices of Oriental 
despotism, and with all the vices inseparable from the domination of 
race over race. The conflicting pretentions of the princes of the royal 
house produced a long series of crimes and public disasters. Ambi- 
tious lieutenants of the sovereign sometimes aspired to independence. 
Fierce tribes of Hindoos, impatient of a foreign yoke, frequently 
withheld tribute, repelled the armies of the government from the 
mountain fastnesses, and poured down in arms on the cultivated plains. 
In spite, however, of much constant maladministration, in spite of 
occasional convulsions which shook the whole frame of society, this, 
great monarchy, on the whole, retained, during some generations, an 
outward appearance of unity, majesty, and energy. — Macaulay. 

Yesternight, at supper, 
You suddenly arose, and walked about, 
Musing and sighing, with your arms across ; 
And, when I ask'd you what the matter was, 
You stared upon me with ungentle looks : 
I urged you further ; then you scratch'd your head, 
And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot : 
Yet I insisted, yet you answer 'd not. 

It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep ; 
And, could it work so much upon your shape 
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, 
I should not know you, Brutus. 

— Julius Ccesar II., i. 

Grouping will be found ti be affected, directly or 
indirectly, by nearly every principle of Rhetoric. The 
few cases given here are enough to show that punctu- 
ation depends on the logical grouping quite as much 
as grouping depends on the punctuation; and that the 


most solid basis for criticism of punctuation is just 
such analysis of the thought as is required for intelli- 
gent vocal interpretation. 

Re-write the following passage, dividing it into para- 
graphs, adding punctuation, and indicating the vocal 
grouping by bars, as above. 

Our opponents have charged us with being the promoters of a dan- 
gerous excitement they have the effrontery to say that I am the friend 
of public disorder I am one of the people surely if there be one thing 
in a free country more clear than another it is that any one of the people 
may speak openly to the people if I speak to the people of their rights 
and indicate to them the way to secure them if I speak of their danger 
to monopolists of power am I not a wise counselor both to the people 
and to their rulers suppose I stood at the foot of Vesuvius or ^Etna 
•and seeing a hamlet or a homestead planted on its slope I said to the 
dwellers in that hamlet or in that homestead you see that vapor which 
ascends from the summit of the mountain that vapor may become a 
dense black smoke that will obscure the sky you see the trickling of 
lava from the crevices in the side of the mountain that trickling of lava 
may become a river of fire you hear that muttering in the bowels of 
the mountain that muttering may become a bellowing thunder the 
voice of a violent convulsion that may shake half a continent you 
know that at your feet is the grave of great cities for which there is no 
resurrection as histories tell us that dynasties and aristocracies have 
passed away and their names have been known no more forever if I 
say this to the dwellers upon the slope of the mountain and if there 
monies hereafter a catastrophe which makes the world to shudder am I 
responsible for that catastrophe I did not build the mountain or fill it 
with explosive materials I merely warned the men that were in danger 
-so now it is not I who am stimulating men to the violent pursuit of 
their acknowledged constitutional rights the class which has hitherto 
ruled in this country has failed miserably it revels in power and wealth 
whilst at its feet a terrible peril for its future lies the multitude which it 
has neglected if a class has failed let us try the nation that is our faith 
that is our purpose that is our cry let us try the nation this it is which 


has called together these countless numbers of the people to demand a 
change and from these gatherings sublime in their vastness and their 
resolution I think I see as it were above the hilltops of time the glim- 
merings of the dawn of a better and a nobler day for the country and 
for the people that I love so well. 

2. Rhetorical or Elliptic Pauses. — These, 
like all other pauses, afford space for the more positive 
elements of expression to accomplish their work. Yet 
the elements of inflection, force, and quality are both 
assisted and modified by these suggestive pauses. 
Hence the pause itself becomes an important element 
in expression. It often brings to no tic °e an inflection , 
stress, or quality, which would otherwise be unob- 
served, or heard as a part of the melody of the sen- 
tence. It thus suggests amplification of the thought. 
While grammatical pauses merely group together for 
economy of reception the words that are actually given, 
the rhetorical pause, with its accompanying significant 
intonation, suggests some thought additional to that 
contained in the words. 

In all the following cases of elliptical pause it is the 
parenthetical or interlinear expansions , rather than the 
examples, that are to be of the nature indicated. 

Rhetorical pauses imply : 

(a) Deliberative Matter — explanatory, preparatory, 
propositional, transitional, or anything similar to that 
uttered and such as would naturally come to mind in 
connection with what is spoken. This deliberative 
effect is secured merely by lengtliening the paiise or 
suspending the voice. 


Examples. — We were not without guests. 

I allowed an hour for the interview. 

A holiday had been promised. 

We returned sooner than we expected to return. 

I had some clue to their intentions. 

(b) Discriminative Matter — especially compared or 
contrasted. The pause in this case gives time for the 
full expression of that which is implied by the accom- 
panying inflection. It amplifies such inflection. 

Examples. — Scrooge knew he was dead. 
The firm was known as Scrooge & Marley. 

There are many things from which I might have derived good, by 
which I have not profited, I dare say — Christmas among the rest. 
You never gave that as a reason before. 

(c) Emotional Matter — the attendant feeling, which 
might express itself in interjections or parenthetical 
sentences is implied by quality of tone assisted by 
pause, to allow that quality to have its full effect. 

Examples. — Let our age be the age of improvement. 

We are not propagandists. 

These are excitements to duty. 

I know who you are. 

Why do you pause ? 

Do you know what time it is ? 

That is a noble example. 

(d) Energetic Matter — words implied which strength- 
en or intensify the thought. The force or stress in 
the utterance contains the essence of such energetic 
matter, but the pause is often required to give the en- 
ergy time to enforce itself. 


Examples.- — Humbug ! 

Why ; do you not know me ? 

Business ! mankind was my business. 

We do ! 

Remarks. — I. Rhetorical pause may coincide with grammatical. 

2. The speaker or reader should be able to paraphrase the pause; 
that is, supply in words the implied additional thought. 

3. These pauses are dictated by the principle of " economy." 
They relieve the speaker, and invite the co-operation of the listener. 

4. The amplification effected by these pauses, while of the most 
subtile kind, is essential to complete expression. 

Find or make examples of rhetorical pause. 

3. Prosodial Pauses. — In verse we have: 

(a) The pauses occurring between feet. These are, 
for the most part, suspensions of the voice, a slight lin- 
gerifig on the last syllable of the poetic foot. The 
prosodial pause does not always involve extra "quan- 
tity," nor a stop, as in case of grammatical or rhetori- 
cal pauses. It is the yielding and diminishing of the 
tone, making a musical "shading," and, like a pause, it 
occasions an expense of time. This delay, or liagering, 
is vital to the measure, especially in slower move- 
ments; as, 

O the long and dreary winter, 
O the cold and cruel winter. 

(b) The csesural pause. — This occurs at or near 
the middle of the line, between words, and some- 
times between the syllables of a poetic foot. It is 
most marked in long verses, in which it seems to be re- 
quired both to afford relief to the voice and to give sym- 
metry and balance to the line. The caesural pause 


usually coincides with one that is grammatical or rhe- 
torical; as, 

Though the mills of God grind slowly, | yet they grind 
exceeding small, 

Though with patience He stands waiting, || with exact- 
ness grinds He all. 

(c) The verse pause, that occurring at the end 
of the line. — This is always to be observed, if the poetic 
form of the composition is to be expressed. The neg- 
lect of this makes prose reading, destroying the music, 
and weakening the thought. Example, 

And the stately ships go on 
To their haven under the hill. 
Caution. — It is not needful to mark falling slide at verse pauses, 
nor to make an abrupt break. The verse can be marked by a slight 
prolongation, or suspension, of voice, as well as by an actual stop. 

Remarks. — I. The musical element is the first thing in poetry 
Otherwise the thought would have been expressed in prose. 

2. The truly poetical reading of verse never necessarily interferes with 
intellectual rendering of the thought. The elements of inflection, stress, 
and quality have their full force, as in prose. And pauses are, for the 
most part, arranged for by the very structure of the poetry. 

4. Euphonic or Rhythmic Groupings in 

Prose. — These are semi-poetic. The same or similar 
elements of imagination, emotion, dignity, and nobility 
demand similar regularity of movement in poetic 
prose, as in poetry itself. The same gejieral groupijig 
of syllables into twos or threes will be observed, 
though, of course, with less regularity; they will not 
be arranged in groups of a certain number of feet each. 
This would make blank verse. 


Examples — I appeal to you by the graves in which our common 
ancestors repose .... in many an ancient village church 
yard, where daisies grow on the turf-covered graves, and venerable yew 
trees cast over them their solemn shade. — Hall. 

Loud shouts of rejoicing shall then be heard . . . when the 
triumphs of a great enterprise usher in the day of the triumphs of the 
cross of Christ. — Gough. 

A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the sky. — Dickens. 

Remarks. — 1. Observance of this melodic element in reading will 
favorably react on diction. 2. Exaggerated dignity is never to be 
sought by this means. 3. ' ; Sing-song," or scanning is not to prevail. 
4. Avoid too much prolongation and swell. 5. Evenness and Dignity 
form the essence of this property. 

Give examples of Prosodial and Euphonic Pauses. 




Speak you this from art t 

Aye, sir, and reason, too, the ground of art. 

— The Alchemist f. 9 I. 

Discrimination has much in common with Delib- 
eration. Both are prevailingly intellective, both, there- 
fore, precede the emotive and the volitive. In practical 
analysis, also, both are intimately connected, especially 
by the analogous and closely related elements of group- 
ing and inflection, of which the former is the vocal 
measurement of deliberation, the latter of discrimina- 
tion. Deliberation and discrimination together give 
the outline of the thought, the facts, the truths, which 
must form the basis for all emotion and volition. 
The intellective element is to the imaginative, emo- 
tional, and volitional, what form is to color in painting. 
Form is the chief requisite for expression; and all 
coloring which ignores the form, or is inconsistent with 
it, becomes not only expressionless, but disappointing 
and disgusting. 

Discrimination deals more strictly with the logical 
properties of the thought, and the study of it is de- 
signed to train the logical faculties as concerned in the 

As a mood of utterance, Discrimination is, subject- 
ively, the speaker's purpose to cause the listener to 
discern the relations of facts or ideas presented; — 


objectively, it is that property in the utterance which 
serves to express these relations directly or by impli- 
cation. These are, principally, completeness or incom- 
pleteness of thought; assertion and assumption; com- 
parison and contrast. 

The relations are discerned by careful study of the 
purposes in the utterance, and by minute measurements 
and comparisons among subordinate ideas. The mani- 
festation of these relations in the rendering is necessary 
to a clear presentation of the thought. After the 
properties of movement and grouping, provided for 
under Deliberation, the elements of utterance peculiar 
to Discrimination are the most vital to the logical un- 
folding of ideas. 

Discrimination is expressed chiefly by inflection* 
This is a variation in pitch, occurring upon single 
words or phrases and recognized as distinctive slides,, 
or as circumflexes. Inflection is thus distinguished 
from melody, which belongs to sentences and para- 
graphs, and also from the slight vanishing slide of 
" concrete tone," which pervades all speech. Inflection 
is an intentional variation of tone designed to call par- 
ticular attention to the relation of the element upon 
which it occurs. It has, indeed, an intimate connection 
with melody, and has very much to do with the variety 
of intonation so essential to agreeable speech; but this 
will not be studied particularly here, as we are now to 
discuss inflection rather as indicating the logical rela- 
tions above specified. 




These are the most logical and practical relations 
governing intonation. 

I. Completeness. — This includes: 
I. Finality, ox the end of the thought. 
Usually the relation of finality is found after several 
clauses or elements. It gives more or less of conclusive 
force, gathering up, or summarizing, preceding facts or 
thoughts, and sometimes forming climax. 

I honestly and solemnly declare, I have in all seasons adhered to the 
system of 1766, for no other reason, than that I think it laid deep in 
your truest interests; and that, by limiting the exercise, it fixes, on the 
firmest foundations, a real, consistent, well-grounded authority in Par- 
liament. Until you come back to that system, there will be no peace 
for England. — Burke. 

Let our object be, our country, our whole country, and nothing but 
our country. And, by the blessing of God, may that country itself 
become a vast and splendid monument, not of oppression and terror, 
bat of Wisdom, of Peace, and of Liberty, upon which the world may 
gaze with admiration for ever ! — Webster, 

The party of Freedom will certainly prevail. It may be by entering 
into and possessing one of the old parties, filling it with our own 
strong life ; or it may be by drawing to itself the good and true from 
both who are unwilling to continue in a political combination when it 
ceases to represent their convictions ; but, in one way or the other, its 
ultimate triumph is sure. Of this let no man doubt. — Sumner. 

A retrospective condensative paraphrase will often 


prepare for and accompany the manifestation of finality. 
2. Momentary Completeness. — This applies to any 
clause, phrase, or even word, which has, for any reason, 
-enough separate force to constitute, at the moment, an 
entire thought, and call for a separate affirmation of 
the mind. This may arise, (1) from its logical import- 
ance, requiring a strong assertive emphasis; or, (2) from 
an elliptical construction — one in which each part could 
reasonably be expanded into a complete proposition. 
Example of (1) would be this sentence from Webster: 

It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from 
the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, 
original, native force. 

Here the ideas of spontaneity, originality, native- 
ness, are each so important to the thought that the 
mind is called upon to make a separate affirmation 
upon each one. 

Examples of (2) are found in some of the connected 
clauses in this passage from Byron's Dream of Dark- 

I had a dream, which was not all a dream. 

The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars 

Did wander, darkling, in the eternal space, 

Rayless and pathless, and the icy earth 

Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air ; 

Morn came and went — and came, and brought no day, 

And men forgot their passions in the dread 

Of this their desolation ; and all hearts 

Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light : 

And they did live by watch-fires ; and the thrones, 

The palaces of crowned kings, the huts, 

The habitations of all things which dwell, 


Were burnt for beacons ; cities were consumed, 
And men were gathered round their blazing homes, 
To look once more into each other's face. 
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye 
Of the volcanoes and their mountain torch. 

Completeness is marked in the voice by a falling* 
slide; that indicating finality usually descends a fifth 
or more, and is preceded by a more or less distinct rising 
melody. This cadential melody may carry the voice so 
high in pitch that the falling slide will be as great as an 
octave. The indication of momentary completeness is 
also a falling slide, varying in extent from a third to a 
fifth, but not so marked as that of finality, and usually 
not preceded by any special rising melody. This mo- 
mentary completeness is exemplified in most loose 

In the following example note momentary complete- 
ness on "man," "woman," "child," and finality on the 
climacteric word "beast." Thus: 

They saw not one man, not one woman, not one child,, 

footed e 

four a 

one s 

not t. 

It is especially important to study the relation of 
momentary completeness in connection with dependent 
clauses. As a rule a definitive clause does not stand 
in the relation of momentary completeness, but in that 
of subordination or anticipation. A supplemental 


clause, on the # other hand, is distinctively complete. 
This relation is not always shown, either by the punctu- 
ation, or by exact use of relative pronouns. In strict- 
ness, who and wliicJi, as already said, should always 
mark supplemental relations, that, definitive. Con- 
siderations of euphony, however, often overrule gram- 
matical and rhetorical principles. The problem in re- 
gard to dependent clauses is to decide whether the 
mind makes a complete affirmation in uttering the 
first clause, and a second separate thought in the 
other clause, or whether, on the other hand, the mind,, 
while uttering the first clause, is looking forward ta 
the second as modifying or defining some thought in 
the first; in short, to decide whether the subordinate 
clause contains additional thought, or only modifying 
thought. The best practical test will be found in par- 
aphrasing. If a dependent clause is truly definitive it 
may be reduced to a brief element, — often to a single 
word, which may be incorporated in the first clause. 

Example. — Lafayette was intrusted by Washington with all kinds; 
of services . . . the laborious and complicated, which re- 
quires skill and patience; the perilous, that demanded nerve. — Ever- 

In this example it is obvious that the clause intro- 
duced by "which" and the one beginning with "that" 
stand in precisely the same relation, the change being^ 
made for euphony. It is obvious also that both de- 
pendent clauses are supplemental rather than definitive; 
for it would be absurd to say that the " laborious and 
complicated service" is defined or limited by the idea 


of skill or patience, or that the idea of 4 perilousness is 
•explained by the fact of its demanding nerve. In both 
of these clauses, therefore, there is an added thought, 
and this gives the relation of momentary completeness 
at the words "complicated" and "perilous." 

The ear, under the guidance of the logical and rhe- 
torical insight, gives a much more sensitive and more 
accurate punctuation than can be indicated by printer's 
marks or grammarian's rules. 

The principle of momentary completeness is strik- 
ingly exemplified in the case of a division of the ques- 
tion in parliamentary proceedings. Division is called 
for because each item is considered as separately im- 
portant enough to demand the entire attention. The 
same is often true in the announcement of a proposi- 
tion containing several different elements, or of a text of 
Scripture suggesting many separate thoughts. The 
following illustration of this principle was once heard 
by the writer: 

" Saul, — Saul, — why — persecutest — thou — me?" In 
this case each element became the germ of a division 
of the discourse; as announced by the preacher, every 
word stood for a complete thought afterward devel- 
oped before the audience. It would,- of course, usually 
be a violent exaggeration, in reading even the most 
weighty passage, to mark divisions of the thought 
thus separately. The important thing to remember is 
that not the words, nor the grammatical elements, nor 
the customary and traditional rendering, determines 


grouping or inflection, but rather the speaker's immedi- 
ate purpose at the moment of the utterance. 

II. — Grammatical and Formal Incomplete- 
ness. This includes the unfinished and the unassertive. 
The mind of the speaker is viewing the thought that is,, 
for the moment, before his attention, either as obviously 
connected with something to follow, or as being inca- 
pable or unworthy of a full affirmative statement. 
Some obvious cases of incompleteness are the following: 

1. Subordination , grammatical and rhetorical. When 
the subordinate element precedes the emphatic part, it 
is expressed by a slightly rising slide, usually about 
that of a musical second. For example: 

I cannot, by the progress of the stars, give guess how near to day. 
It never rains but it pours; we got more than we asked. 

This type ot incompleteness covers many cases of 
mere enumeration, or of the most obvious pointing 
forward, or opening of ideas, in which the thought 
simply leads on to something that is to follow. Its 
vocal symbol is a rising slide, but only slightly rising, 
to point the attention onward rather than upward; just 
as the arrow-head or finger on a guide-board points 
the way. It is usually accompanied by a somewhat 
rapid, easy grouping, which indicates that there is 
nothing in the individual phrases or clauses to call 
your attention or delay your progress. 

Rhetorical subordination has been partly anticipated 
in the previous chapter under groupings. It is that 


which is taken for granted, coming as a matter of 
course, something well understood. 

The relation of subordination is not that of triviality, 
.and need not produce an accelerated movement nor a 
much thinner tone. It should promote clearness of in- 
terpretation, and should secure a better rhythm, a glid- 
ing and connecting movement, which will allow the 
principal elements to stand out full and distinct. 

Many clauses and elements that are really subordi- 
nate follow, rather than precede, the emphatic elements. 
'These appended, or supplemental, subordinate elements 
^will not usually take rising slides. Often they will 
Tiave no distinct slides of their own; but will be 
^attracted into the general melody of the sentence, which 
will be determined by the emphatic parts. 

Paraphrase will often reveal the subordination and 
indicate the proper inflection. 

In the following passages find the cases of subordin- 
ation, and those of momentary completeness: 

Clive, ill and exhausted as he was, undertook to make an army of 
this undisciplined rabble, and marched with them to Covelong. A 
shot from the fort killed one of these extraordinary soldiers; on which 
all the rest faced about and ran away, and it was with the greatest diffi- 
culty that Clive rallied them. On another occasion, the noise of a gun 
terrified the sentinels so much that one of them was found, some hours 
later, at the bottom of a well. Clive gradually accustomed them to 
danger, and, by exposing himself constantly in the most perilous situ- 
ation, shamed them into courage. He at length succeeded in forming 
a respectable force out of his unpromising materials. Covelong fell. 
'-Clive learned that a strong detachment was marching to relieve it from 
Chingleput. He took measures to prevent the enemy from learning 
that they were too late, laid an ambuscade for them on the 


road, killed a hundred of them with one fire, took three hundred pris- 
oners, pursued the fugitives, to the gates of Chingleput, laid siege 
instantly to that fastness, reputed one of the strongest in India, made 
a breach, and was on the point of storming, when the French com- 
mandant capitulated and retired with his men. — Macaulay. 

" Then," said Mrs. Micawber, who prided herself on taking a clear 
view of things, and keeping Mr. Micawber straight by her woman's 
wisdom, when he might otherwise go a little crooked, — " then I 
naturally look round the world, and say, ' What is there in which a 
person of Mr. Micawber's talent is likely to succeed?' I may have a 
conviction that Mr. Micawber's manners peculiarly qualify him for the 
banking business. I may argue within myself, that, if I had a deposit 
in a banking-house, the manners of Mr. Micawber, as representing that 
banking-house, would inspire confidence and extend the connection. 
But if the various banking-houses refuse to avail themselves of Mr. 
Micawber's abilities, or receive the offer of them with contumely, what 
is the use of dwelling upon that idea? None. As to originating a 
banking business, I may know that there are members of my family, 
who, if they chose to plac~ their money in Mr. Micawber's hands, 
might found an establishment of that description. But if they do not 
choose to place their money in Mr. Micaw T ber's hands, — which they 
don't, — what is the use of that? Again I contend that we are no farther 
advanced than we were before." — Dickens. 

But scarce again his horn he wound, 

When lo! forth starting at the sound, 

From underneath an aged oak 

That slanted from the islet rock, 

A damsel guider of its way, 

A little skiff shot to the bay, 

That round the promontory steep 

Led its deep line in graceful sweep, 

Eddying, in almost viewless wave, 

The sweeping willow twig to lave, 

And kiss, with whispering sound and slow, 

The beach of pebbles bright as snow. 

— Scott. 

2.J ^Anticipation , or Condition; differing from sub- 


ordination by giving a more distinct and definite 

Anticipation implies more of animation, or possibly 
even of eagerness, than does subordination. Subor- 
dinate thought is a matter of course; anticipative 
thought is a matter of curiosity. For example: 

But that ye may know that the Son of Man hath power on earth to 
forgive sins, I say unto thee, "Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thy- 

I hold that he who humbly tries 

To find wherein his duty lies, 

And finding, does the same, and bears 

Its burdens lightly, and its cares, 

Is nobler, in his low estate, 

Than crowned king or potentate. 

If we shall find the work has been slighted, we shall appoint another 

Ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, "Thou 
shalt not forswear thyself." 

Most periodic sentences employ this form of incom- 
pleteness, which gives them their character of 

This relation of anticipation is expressed by a some- 
what sharper rising slide than that which marks subor- 
dination. Anticipation usually employs the rising 

" Anticipation," when obscure, can usually be made 
to appear in paraphrase by translating verbs into par- 
ticiples, putting apparently independent clauses into 
plainly dependent relations, using more subordinate 
connectives, or changing the punctuation; e. g. Aris- 


ing — take up thy bed; or, Arising and taking up thy 
bed — go unto thy house; or, Arise. Taking up thy 
bed, go unto thy house. Either is a possible interpre- 
tation of the sentence. 

Whether the items in a series are to be viewed in 
relation of subordination or anticipation, or in that of 
completeness, will often be well tested by the reader's 
asking himself this question: Do I, in beginning the 
series, look forward to the end, and do I think of each 
one of these items in its relation to the others; or, 
does each one come separately, receive my attention, 
and then drop from notice? For example: 

Antonio, I am married to a wife, 
Which is as dear to me as life itself; 
But life itself, my wife, and all the world, 
Are not with me esteem'd above thy life: 
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all 
Here to this devil, to deliver you. 

— Mer, Ven. IV., 1. 

Here both inflection and pause on the word " wife" 

will be determined by considering whether Bassanio, 

when he begins to speak, has in mind both the fact of his 

recent marriage and the measure of his love for his 

wife; or whether, on the other hand, the fact of his 

having a wife to leave, is for the moment a separate 

consideration, to w r hich the asseveration of his affection 

is a supplemental thought. In the third line it seems 

evident that all the items, "life," " wife, " and " world," 

were plainly in the speaker's mind at the outset, and 

this might be shown by inserting after the word " but," 


a parenthesis to this effect: all the interests you can 
name, or some expression that will indicate that the 
specifications of the line are members, partitive apposi- 
tives, of the whole thought. So in the fifth line; if 
Bassanio means, I would both lose all and sacrifice 
all, or, I would not only lose, but sacrifice, — then the 
first four words are not momentarily complete, but 
stand in the relation of anticipation to the remainder 
of the line. If, on the other hand, " I would lose all" 
sums up the whole of his thought at that moment, and 
if the stronger word, " sacrifice," is simply added for 
the emphasis of repetition, then "lose all" stands in 
the relation of momentary completeness. 

It is always a question of the point of view, and of 
the mind's action during the utterance of the words. 

Discrimination deals definitely with relations of 
ideas and thoughts, and the paraphrase that shall assist 
in preparation for discriminative utterance, must con- 
cern itself chiefly with the relations of the ele- 
ments. In general, therefore, the Discriminative 
Paraphrase will employ some change of structure. 

Paraphrase to Reveal Completeness or 
Incompleteness. — Under this head the most fre- 
quent and the most important will be that reconstruc- 
tion and amplification of the text which w T ill reveal and 
justify the relation we have called " momentary com- 
pleteness." The reason for this is found chiefly in the 
fact that the prevailing tendency, brought largely from 
the primary school, is to "keep the voice up till you 


come to a period." But nothing can be more obvi- 
ous than that many phrases and clauses marked only 
by a comma, and frequently by no punctuation what- 
ever, are still momentarily complete; that is, the sepa- 
rate parts of the thought are not viewed as depending 
upon one another in any logical or rhetorical sense, but 
have, each one, its separate, individual force. Now 
this essential separateness in such elements is both re- 
vealed and justified by expansion of the compact 
phrases, usually such expansion as will make of each 
one a grammatically complete proposition, allowing 
punctuation by periods, or at least by semicolons or 

Authors differ greatly in the matter of punctuation. 
Victor Hugo, for example, inclines to punctuate largely 
with periods; thus announcing to the reader the sep- 
arateness and completeness of each element in the 
thought. Notice this paragraph: 

He sinks in two or three inches. Decidedly he is not on the right 
road ; he stops to take his bearings ; now he looks at his feet. They 
have disappeared. The sand covers thern. He draws them out of the 
sand ; he will retrace his steps. He turns back, he sinks in deeper* 
The sand comes up to his ankles ; he pulls himself out and throws 
himself to the left — the sand half-leg deep. He throws himself to the 
right ; the sand comes up to his shins. 

Behold him waist-deep in the sand. The sand reaches his breast ^ 
he is now only a bust. He raises his arms, utters furious groans,, 
clutches the beach with his nails, would hold by that straw, leans upon 
his elbows to pull himself out of this soft sheath ; sobs frenziedly ; 
the sand rises ; the sand reaches his shoulders ; the sand reaches his 
neck ; the face alone is visible now. The mouth cries, the sand fills it 
— silence. The eyes still gaze, the sand shuts them — night. Now the 


forehead decreases, a little hair flutters above the sand ; a hand comes 
to the surface of the beach, moves and shakes, disappears. It is the 
earth-drowning man. The earth filled with the ocean becomes a trap. 
It presents itself like a plain, and opens like a wave. 

Now contrast with this a not dissimilar passage by 

I wrapped myself in my clothes as quickly as I could, and ran into 
the street, where numbers of people were before me, all running in one 
direction, — to the beach. I ran the same way, outstripping a good 
many, and soon came facing the wild sea. Every appearance it had 
before presented bore the expression of being swelled; and the height 
to which the breakers rose, and bore one another down, and rolled in, 
in interminable hosts, was most appalling. 

One mast was broken short off, six or eight feet from the deck, and 
lay over on the side, entangled in a maze of sail and rigging ; and in that 
ruin, as the ship rolled and beat, — which she did with a violence quite 
inconceivable, — beat the side as if it would stave it in. Some efforts 
were being made to cut this portion of the wreck away ; for, as the 
ship, which was broadside on, turned toward us in her rolling, I plainly 
•descried her people at work with axes — especially one active figure, 
with long curling hair. But a great cry, audible even above the wind 
and water, rose from the shore ; the sea, sweeping over the wreck, 
made a clean breach, and carried men, spars, casks, planks, bulwarks, 
heaps of such toys, into the boiling surge. 

A comparison of these two passages shows that the 
punctuation is neither definite nor quite self-consistent 
in either case. The final decision as to what consti- 
tutes a complete or incomplete element in the thought, 
must, after all, be made by the reader, according to his 
judgment of the relative importance of each item and 
of the necessity for giving it the undivided thought at 
the instant. 

Take the first of these passages and change its 


structure. Unite the short periods of Hugo into mu- 
tually dependent and subordinate clauses. Take the 
separate elements in Dickens' description, and make a 
complete proposition of each one. Note the differences 
in the descriptive power. 

Study this passage from Charles Sprague, on the 
American Indian: 

As a race they have withered from the land. Their arrows are bro- 
ken, their springs have dried up, their cabins are in the dust. Their 
council-fire has long since gone out on the shore, and their war-cry is 
fast fading to the untrodden west. 

Each item amplifying the idea that the race has died 
out might be a complete sentence, or even a paragraph. 
It is evident that if the clauses marked by the commas 
were read as ''incomplete," much of the force would be 
lost. They must be thought of as separate and entire 
individually; and to make such mental measurement 
reasonable the best way is to expand, so arranging the 
important words that their completeness may appear^ 

Their arrows, the weapons with which they defended themselves. 
and the means by which they procured their livelihood in their native 
forests, lie scattered and broken. The native springs, at which they 
quenched their thirst, have been exposed by the woodman's ax, and 
their sources have been dried up. You may search for their council 
fires. You will not find one upon any shore. You may listen for their 
war-cry. Its wild sound echoes no more. 

Poetry has perhaps more cases of momentary com- 
pleteness; and here the danger of obscuring the sense 
by failing to observe relations of completeness and in- 
completeness is vastly greater, because the rhythmic 


force of the verse is likely to carry the mind over many 
compact expressions. Observe this relation in the fol- 
lowing on "The Launching of the Ship," by Longfel- 

We know what master laid thy keel, 
What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, 
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, 
What anvils rang, what hammers beat, 
In what a forge and what a heat 
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! 

Here we have nothing but the comma, and some- 
times not even that, to separate elements which are 
momentarily complete. To express this momentary 
completeness the passage might be paraphrased some- 
what as follows: 

We are well assured of the masterly architecture which has planned 
thy structure. We know well what diligent and capable hands have 
fashioned together the different parts of thy wondrous mechanism. 
We know what minute attention has been given to every mast. The 
overseeing eye has not failed to note the shape and strength of each 
separate sail. Minute inspection has been given to the strength of 
every rope. In our imagination we hear the ringing of the anvil. As 
we listen, we catch the beat of the hammer; we feel the fervid flame 
in the forge. We know that all these forces were combined to give 
thee thy perfected shape. 

No paraphrase would be needed in the following 
passage from "Hiawatha," to show that each one of 
the tribes mentioned is thought of as separately as if 
there had been devoted to each a complete paragraph 
describing the coming of each tribe to the council. 

Down the rivers, o'er the prairies, 
Came the warriors of the nations, 


Came the Delawares and Mohawks, 
Came the Choctaws and Camanches, 
Came the Shoshonies and Blackfeet, 
Came the Pawnees and Omawhaws, 
Came the Mandans and Dakotahs, 
Came the Hurons and Ojibways, 
All the warriors drawn together 
By the signal of the Peace-Pipe, 
To the Mountains of the Prairie, 
To the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry. 

"Incompleteness" on the other hand, may often be 
employed, even when we have strong punctuation, as 
semicolon, colon, or period: — as in these sentences; 

We die, but leave an influence behind us that survives. The echoes 
of our words are evermore repeated and reflected along the ages. It 
is what man was that lives and acts after him ; what he said sounds 
along the years like voices beyond the mountain gorges ; and what "he 
did is repeated after him in ever-multiplying and never-ceasing rever- 

The period after " survives" would seem to indicate 
completeness; so, indeed, it is — but that of " momentary 
completeness" rather than finality, and without any 
severe strain upon the sense we might change both the 
punctuation and the relation of clauses, making it read 
as a preparatory or anticipator}' clause introducing the 
sentence following; thus: 

The surviving influence of every man causes his words and deeds to 
be repeated after him. 

Take also the following sentences: 

The seed sown in life springs up in harvests of blessings or harvests 
of sorrow, whether our influence be great or small, whether it be good 
or evil; it lasts, it lives somewhere, within some limit, and is operative 


wherever it is. The grave buries the dead dust ; but the character 
walks the world and distributes itself as a benediction or a curse among 
the families of mankind. 

Study the relations of completeness and incomplete- 
ness in these clauses, reconstruct the words by use of 
participial and prepositional phrases; and change the 
punctuation so as to obviate the periods as they are 
given in the text, and locate periods where commas are 
now written. The thought in this particular case will 
not be essentially altered. The reason for this drill is, 
that many passages will occur in which the apparent com- 
pleteness must be mentally changed to incompleteness, 
and vice versa. The thing always to be remembered is, 
that the punctuation is not to be slavishly followed, but 
that the real relations of the elements are to be dis- 
covered by logical and rhetorical analysis of the thought. 

Mahomet still lives in his piratical and disastrous influence in the 
East; Napoleon still is France, and France is almost Napoleon; Mar- 
tin Luther's dead dust sleeps at Wittenberg, but Martin Luther's 
accents still ring through the churches of Christendom; Shakespeare, 
Byron, and Milton all live in their influence for good or evil ; the 
apostle from his chair, the minister from his pulpit, the martyr from 
his flaming shroud, the statesman from his cabinet, the soldier in the 
field, the sailor on the deck, who all have passed away to their graves, 
still live in the practical deeds that they did, in the lives they lived, and 
in the powerful lessons that they left behind them. 

Now re-arrange this paragraph. See whether the 
thought might not be expressed as justly, or even more 
so, by changing the punctuation and readjusting rela- 
tions of completeness and incompleteness. 


II. Indirect and Inferential Forms of In- 

1. Negative or No it- Affirmative Statement. 

This is the introductory dismissal of a thought, as 
being apart from the present purpose; it is the exclu- 
sion or removal of unnecessary or irrelevant matter — 
a clearing of the ground for something positive, which 
is to be added, or which is implied. It is not the 
assertion or the maintenance of a denial, as the arguing 
of the lt negative" side in a debate; it is, rather, the 
declining to assert, the waiving, or conceding, or exclud- 
ing, of that which, in the circumstances, is thought not 
worth while to claim, or of that which is considered 
too evident to need proof or assertion. 

Particular cases are — 

Negative Statement. Positive Statement. 

1. Concession, vs. Affirmation. 

2. Inability to assert, vs. Knowledge or Conviction. 

3. Unwillingness to assert, vs. Desire to State, 

( " non-committal ' ' attitude), (self-declaration) . 

4. Sense of Triviality, vs. Sense of Seriousness or Impor- 


5. Assumption of Obviousness or vs. Indication of that which is New 

Familiarity in thought, or Unrecognized in the 

thoughtor in its application. 

6. The Anticipatory or Negative vs. The Conclusive or Positive 

member of an Antithesis, member of an Antithesis. 

Examples. — I do not know that I care to do that. 


There are other methods; I do not claim that this is the only one. 
I grant there is some truth in that. 
No, of course no one believes that. 

It was not Moses that gave you the bread out of heaven, but my Father 
giveth you the true bread out of heaven. 

I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last day. 
Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. 
O, that is of no consequence; you don't believe that. 
Yes, he spoke very well. 

By a natural paradox this rhetorical negation may 
become the strongest kind of affirmation; as, 

We know that this is our son. 

Here the parents of the blind man consider the fact 
of his relation to them as so indisputable that it is not 
worth their while to make an affirmation concerning it; 
so do the neighbors, who said " This is he." But 
when his identity had been disputed by some of the 
bystanders, it then became necessary to make an affir- 
mation, and so the man himself declares, with falling 
slide, "I am he." — John ix. 9, 20. 

The vocal symbol of this negative relation is arising 
slide, of about a fourth; the more serious negation is 
somewhat prolonged, and the more trivial is given with 
a quicker, lighter toss. The interval is in either case 
•essentially the same. 

Paraphrase to Reveal Negation. — A thought 
that is essentially negative, but formally, or grammatic- 
ally positive, can almost always be translated into a 
sentence that is technically, or grammatically, negative; 


"I grant there is some truth in that"= I do not 
deny that. 

"I know that he shall rise in the resurrection M = I 
am not doubting the fact of the resurrection. 

"We know that this is our son"= We could not, of 
course, mistake our own son. 

In the following examples find cases of "negative 
statement," classify them, and translate into negative 

Dec. Never fear that: if he be so resolved, 
I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear 
That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, 
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, 
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers; 
But when I tell him he hates flatterers, 
He says he does, being then most nattered. 
Let me work; 

For I can give his humor the true bent, 
And I will bring him to the Capitol. 

— Jul. dees. II, 1. 

You know me well, and herein spend but time 
To wind about my love with circumstance. 

— Mer. Ven. /., /. 

Mark you this, Bassanio, 
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. 

— Mer. Ven. I., J. 

There are many things from which I might have derived good, by 
which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest. But 
I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come 
round — apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, 
if anything belonging to it can be apart from that — as a good time; a 
kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time. — Dickens. 

Thus we lived several years in a state of much happiness; not but 


that we sometimes had those little rubs which providence sends to 
enhance the value of its favors. My orchard was often robbed by 
school-boys, and my wife's custards plundered by the cats or the chil- 
dren. The squire would sometimes fall asleep in the most pathetic 
parts of my sermon, or his lady return my wife's civilities at the 
church with a mutilated curtsey. But we soon got over the uneasiness 
caused by such accidents, and usually in three or four days began to 
wonder how they vexed us. — Goldsmith. 

What, thought I, are the distresses of the rich? They have friends 
to soothe — pleasures to beguile — a world to divert and dissipate their 
griefs. What are the sorrows of the young! Their growing minds 
soon close above the wound — their elastic spirits soon rise beneath the 
pressure — their green and ductile affections soon twine round new 
objects. But the sorrows of the poor, who have no outward appliances 
to soothe — the sorrows of the aged, with whom life at best is but awintry 
day. and who can look for no after-growth of joy — these are indeed 
sorrows which make us feel the impotency of consolation. — Irving, 

2. Doabt. This includes hesitation, uncertainty, any 
degree of bewilderment or confusion; and represents 
the mind as attempting to balance or decide between 
ideas. For example: 

I may find it necessary. — 
You do not really think it possible. — 
I believe I mailed that letter — on Saturday. — 

If thou consider rightly of the matter — Caesar hath had great wrong. — 
It must be by his death. — 

Crown him? — that; — and then I grant we put the sting in him that, 
at his will, he may do danger with. 

Hamlet. What? looked he — frowningly? — 

Horatio. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. 

Ham, Pale — or red? — 

Hor. Nay, very pale. 

Ham. He — fixed his eyes — upon you? — 

Hor. Most constantly. 

Ham. I would I had been there. — 


Hor. It would have much amazed you. 

Ham. Very like; very like; — stayed it long? — 

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. 

Ber.' \ Lon S er ' lon g er - 

Hor. Not when I saw it. 

Ham. His beard — was grizzled — no? 

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, a sable silver M. 

Ham. I '11 watch to-night; perchance 't will walk again. 

— Ha?n. I., 2. 

The vocal symbol of doubt or uncertainty is a suspen- 
sion of voice, rather than a distinct rising slide, though 
there may be a slight tendency upward. It typifies the 
mind held in suspense or abeyance. 

Doubt, hesitation, or uncertainty, when obscure, can 
best be revealed by subjective expansive para- 
phrase. This will put into words the hidden thoughts 
that give this color to the utterance. Thus, when 
Brutus says: "It must be by his death," fill out some- 
what like this: I wish I could see some other way — my 
personal feeling holds me back — but patriotism moves 
me to it — but — not decisively — as yet — let me reflect 
— etc. Or Shylock, in Mer. Ven. I., 3. " Three thousand 
ducats; well." — I love my money — I hate to see it go 
— but isn't this the opportunity I've been waiting for— 
will it do — can I entrap him in this way — I must think 
a little — etc. The substance of the mood is a nearly 
equal drawing in opposite directions, leaving the mind 
for the time quite balanced between them. 

Study Launcelot's full revelation of balancing mo- 


tives, and old Gobbo's hesitation and uncertainty. — 
Mer. Ven. II., 2. 

3. Interrogation y Direct, answerable by "yes" or 

The mind is pictured as unformed in reference to the 
main thought, either confessing or professing igno- 
rance, and as looking up to superior intelligence for the 
anticipated information. This is emptiness or incom- 
pleteness. For example: 

Is this your son ? 
Did he say no? 

The natural symbol in this honest interrogation is 
a rising slide, almost invariably of a fifth. Rhe- 
torical or figurative interrogation usually has the pur- 
pose of a strengthened affirmation. This purpose may 
be effected either by obviously asserting in tone, what 
is asked in words, or by pretending ignorance in regard 
to that which is well known. The latter expects a 
needless answer, the former only demands the attention; 
the latter employs a rising slide, like a real question; 
the former, a falling slide, like an ordinary assertion > 
or stronger. For example: 

Do you deny this? 

This may convey either of two purposes: 

(1) Really to gain information. It will then be ex- 
pressed by a simple rising slide. 

(2) Strongly to assert the opposite of that expressed 
in the question: That is; you do not, cannot deny it. 


This, of course, will be given with a positive falling 

Figurative Interrogation is not always given by fall- 
ing slide. The intonation will depend on whether the 
speaker wishes — or judges it best — to assume the atti- 
tude of demanding, challenging, dominating; or that 
of leading the interlocutor to state for himself the fact 
or truth to be impressed upon him. 

Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right? 

Had you rather Caesar were living, and. die all slaves? 

These are figurative interrogations, but their strongly 
discriminative and conversational character seems to 
give them the tone of literal questions. Strong emo- 
tion and energy tend to use falling slides in interroga- 

In literary interpretation, as in conversation, it is 
often a delicate and most important task to decide 
whether the interrogative phraseology really conveys 
the purpose of a literal question, i. e., to gain informa- 
tion, or of a figurative, to assert or challenge. The 
real intent may best be realized by restating', espec- 
ially by changing to declarative form; thus: 

Who does not know this= Every one knows it. Do 
you not see that it is true = You must see. 

4. Supplication or Entreaty. — This may seem to 
belong rather to emotion than to Discrimination. 
Though arising in an emotional state, it as distinctly 
represents a relation of the two minds as does Interro- 


gation, and as truly reveals essential incompleteness on 
the part of the speaker as does Negation. 

It cannot be measured always by the words. The 
attitude of the speaker's mind must be inferred from 
the context and from a reasonable probability, based 
upon the study of the character of the person speaking, 
and of the circumstances. An ordinary request may 
be only the statement of a desire. For example: 

May I speak to you a moment? 
Please listen to my statement. 

This is not "supplicatory." The same is true of 
many prayers; they simply indicate the desire of the 
speaker, and the expectation of the promised answer 
or blessing. 

Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, thou that leadest Joseph like a flock; 
thou that sittest upon the cherubim, shine forth. 

Words of real supplication, on the other hand, ex- 
press an intense pleading, which looks upward — as 
weakness to strength; fearfulness or despair to pro- 
tecting power. The whole trend of Psalm li.,"Have 
mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving kind- 
ness," etc., has this pleading, or supplicatory effect; so 
has this passage from Psalm lxxvii.: 

Will the Lord cast off forever? and will he be favorable no more? Is 
his mercy clean gone forever? Doth his promise fail forevermore? 

In this the purpose is not primarily to gain informa- 
tion but rather to express the intense pleading, the up- 
lifted, beseeching attitude here intended by the term 


"supplication." The same will often be heard in con- 
versation, when the feeling of weakness appealing to 
strength is portrayed. For example: 

Do not close the door upon your child ! 
Do not leave me here alone ! 

And literature, especially the drama, contains many 
such examples: 

O, Hubert, save me from these bloody men ! 
Kneel not, gentle Portia. 
Have patience, gentle friends. 

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up to such a sudden 
flood of mutiny ! 

O, Hamlet, speak no more. 

A fine form of supplication or entreaty is found in 
the solicitude or tenderness of friendship and of love. 
Delicate consideration may prevent the use of definite, 
formal entreaty in the diction; yet the real motive im- 
pelling the utterance, and suggesting its intonation, is 
often of this nature. In such cases the true intent may 
best be revealed, and the expression indicated, by 
translating' into phraseology containing imperatives 
and words distinctively pleading or entreating. 

Examples. — You look not well, Signior Antonio, 

equivalent to 

I do entreat you not to kill yourself with grief. 

— Mer. of Ven. I., 1. 
You have too much respect upon the world; 
They lose it that do buy it with much care. 

— IHd. 



Now don't make that mistake I pray you. 

Your worth is very dear in my regard. — Ibid* 

Translated mentally, 

Do not think I am weary of your company. 

You know me well, and herein spend but time 
To wind about my love with circumstance. 

Equivalent to 

I beg you do not mistrust my willingness to help you. 

This element of entreaty is, no doubt, the reason for 
the delicate rising slide so often heard in an affectionate 
or cordial " Good bye." 

Give me your hand, Bassanio ; fare you well ! 
Grieve not that I am fall'n to this for you. 

The entreaty of tenderness in a farewell is also beau- 
tifully exemplified in the death scene of Paul Dombey. 

"Floy! this is a kind, good face! I am glad to see it again. Don't 
go away, old nurse. Stay here ! Good-bye! " 

" Good-bye, my child?" cried Mrs. Pipchin, hurrying to his bed's 
head. " Not good-bye? " 

"Ah, yes! Good-bye! — Where is Papa? . . . How fast the rivers 
runs, between its green banks and rushes, Floy ! But, it's very near 
the sea now. I hear the waves ! They always said so ! " 

In such a scene it would be an affront to the sacred- 
ness of human feeling to translate into words the 
tender entreaty which is to be heard, or rather felt, in 
the lingering caress of the tone; yet, it would be heart- 
less to render the thought without such interpretation, 
mentally and somewhat definitely made. When once 
this habit of interpretation by translation or paraphrase 


is fairly started, it will apply itself, in most cases, more 
delicately and more effectively in the unspoken or un- 
written translation which the mind learns to make. 

This relation is symbolized by a rising slide, vari- 
able in extent from third to octave. It is usually, and 
almost necessarily, accompanied by a perceptible swell. 

Examples. — Find or make examples of all the 
above varieties of incompleteness, and of momentary 

The following diagram shows the different degrees of 
pitch that, in general, are found to mark different 
types of incompleteness. 

(5) Interrogation. 

(4) Negation. 

(3) Anticipation. 

(2) Subordination. 

(1) Doubt. 

Supplication takes, according to the degree of in- 
tensity, almost any degree of elevation. 




Assumption is, subjectively, the taking for granted 
of that which may be supposed to be already in the 
mind of the listener, either from having been previously 
mentioned or strongly implied, or because it is a mat- 
ter of common information. Objectively, assumption 
consists, usually, in the absence of distinct inflection, 
the voice moving easily forward, often with a tendency 
to the rising slide, like that of subordination, but always 
governed by the general trend of the melody in the 
sentence. This light and unemphatic motion of the 
voice simply says, " What I am saying now is perfectly 
familiar to you, just look forward and see what I am 
going to point out." 

Assumption, thus, often resembles weaker forms of 
negative statement. In general the difference between 
negation and assumption is that the former usually ap- 
plies to a sentence or a clause as a whole, and as op- 
posed to some other entire sentence or clause; while 
the latter applies more often to words and phrases, and 
does not so distinctly imply antithesis. It also resem- 
bles subordination, from which it differs in that an 
assumed element is less closely connected with another 
element as its principal. In its vocal expression, there- 


fore, assumption will be marked by less distinctly rising 
slide than negation, and will be differentiated from sub- 
ordination by more distinct separation of elements 
through pauses. 

The real significance of assumption appears most 
plainly in distinction from that of assertion, as will be 
found later. 

Examples of Assumption: 

I know that virtue to be in you Brutus. 

— Jul. Cces. /., 2. 

The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks, 

They all are fire and every one doth shine ; 

But there's but one in all doth hold his place ; 

So in the world ; 'tis furnished well with men, 

And men are flesh and blood and apprehensive ; 

Yet in the number I do know but one 

That unassailable holds on his rank, 

Unshaked of motion. — Jul. Cces. III., 1, 

And Brutus is an honorable man. — Jul. Cces. III., 2. 

This last, as first said, is simply assumed, as that which 
every one knows, of course; later, it has a distinctively 
assertive, ironical significance. 

As to what may be assumed and what needs to be as- 
serted, the speaker must always consult the intelligence 
of his audience, the circumstances of the speech, and 
especially the particular connection and bearing of the 
sentence in question. Too much assumption renders 
the delivery weak and inadequate, because too com- 
monplace; too much assertion is an insult, as it under- 
estimates the intelligence of the audience. 


Assertion is, subjectively, the purpose to point out 
that which is new, unknown, unfamiliar, or specially im- 
portant in the connection; or that which, for any reason, 
would be likely to escape the attention of the hearer. 
" Assertion" here means distinctive \ or discrimina- 
tive, " emphasis" in connected relations (i. e. y without 
pauses). It recognizes the relative importance, rhetor- 
ically and logically, of elements whose grammatical 
position or whose connections might tend to hide their 
true significance, bearing, or force. Such elements are 
usually near the beginning or the middle of a clause or 
sentence, where no help is given by punctuation. Ob- 
jectively, it consists in such inflection as will secure 
this object. Its symbol is a falling slide, but, unlike 
the falling slide of momentary completeness, the assert- 
ive slide is usually not accompanied by a distinct pause. 
It is continuative; that is, the voice moves downward 
and onward at the same time. It is the most conve- 
nient way of marking that which is usually called the 
"emphatic" word of a sentence, viewed i?i its connec- 
tions. It is well shown in transferred emphasis; as, 

/gave him those keys. 
I gave him those keys. 
I gave him those keys. 
I gave him those keys. 

The "continuative" falling slide is marked thus, (L). 

Examples. — |I gave him those keys. 
I g|ave him those keys. 
I gave h,im those keys. 
I gave him th|ose keys. 


Therefore said his parents, He is of age ; ask him. 

— John ix. 23. 
Jesus h'eard that they had cast him out. 

— John ix. 35, 
This is the first plan I have to submit. 

Paraphrase to show Assertion and As- 

A heart that is full of goodness, that loves* and pities, that yearns to 
invest the riches of its mercy in the souls of those that need it — how 
sweet a tongue hath such a heart! A flute sounded in a wood, in the 
stillness of evening, and rising up among leaves that are not stirred by 
the moonlight above, or by those murmuring sounds beneath; a clock 
that sighs at half hours, and at the full hours beats the silver bell so 
gently, that we know not whence the sound comes, unless it falls 
through the air from heaven, with sounds as sweet as dewdrops make, 
in heaven, falling upon flowers; a bird whom perfumes have intoxi- 
cated, sleeping in a blossomed tree, so that it speaks in its sleep with a 
note so soft that sound and sleep strive together, and neither conquers, 
but the sound rocks itself upon the bosom of sleep, each charming the 
other; a brook that brings down the greeting of the mountains to the 
meadows, and sings a serenade all the way to the faces that watch 
themselves in its brightness; — these, aud a hundred like figures, the 
imagination brings to liken thereunto the charms of a tongue which 
love plays upon. — Beecher. 

In this paragraph the words " flute," " clock," "bird," 
41 brook," are cases requiring assertion. A brief par- 
aphrase would reveal this; as, Listen to the flute. 
Note the stroke of the clock. Hear the song of 
the bird. How joyously babbles that brook. By im- 
agining a complete sentence thus to indicate or point out 
each of these four illustrations, we bring to notice the 
real point and beauty of the paragraph, as to its prop- 
erties of discrimination. The periodic structure, how- 
ever, requires that these separate images and analogies 


be closely united and carried forward. The resultant 
of these two forces in the emphasis — the pointing' 
out and the connecting — will be assertion, or con- 
tinuative emphasis. This is best realized in the mind 
and prepared for utterance, by first reconstructing^ 
so as to give a separate sentence to each important 
item, and then reconnecting, so as to compel the con- 
tinuous flow. The punctuation is no guide to this, nor 
could it be without greatly marring the melody and 
proportion of the clauses. The voice, however, may 
often most economically and most logically suggest 
such reconstruction as above indicated. The same is 
clearly shown in briefer sentences; as, for example, 
some from the ninth chapter of John: 

They say therefore unto the blind man again, what sayest thou of 
him in that he hath opened thine eyes? 

Here the chief assertion is not upon the last word, 
but upon "thou ;" and to reveal and justify the proper 
assertion, we must invert the words of- the text, making 
it read somewhat as follows: So they say again to the 
blind man, Considering the fact that he has opened 
your eyes, what opinion of him do you entertain your- 
self? Inversion is usually the best means of call- 
ing attention to the element that needs to be asserted. 

In John vi. 32, we have a case of similar inversion 
which has been made by the Revision. It formerly 

Moses gave you not that bread from heaven, but my Father giveth 
you the true bread from heaven. 

It is now made to read: 


It was not Moses that gave you that bread out of heaven. 

This change in the structure throws the assertion 
where it belongs, upon the word "Moses." Similar 
inversions and changes of phraseology will often need 
to be made mentally, by the intelligent reader, for sim- 
ilar purposes. 

In general, the relation of assumption can be indi- 
cated by participial or prepositional plirases, and by 
dependent clauses ; that of assertion, by separate or 
inverted propositions. 

Are not you moved, when all the sway of Earth 
Shakes like a thing unfirm ? O Cicero ! 
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds 
Have rived the knotty oaks ; and I have seen 
. Th' ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, 
To be exalted with the threatening clouds: 
But never till to-night, never till now, 
Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. 

— Jul. Cess. I., j. 

In the first sentence, supposing the "sway of 
earth" and the "shaking" to be assumed, and the 
"you" to be asserted, these relations would be ex- 
pressed by paraphrasing thus: In all the swaying and 
shaking of the earth does nothing move you? In the 
following lines, supposing the words "tempests," 
"oaks," "ocean," and "clouds" to be assumed, we 
might manifest this assumption in a concessive clause; 
as, Though I have seen raging tempests, and scolding 
winds that could split the oaks, and have seen the heav- 
ing ocean rise even to the clouds, yet never until to- 
night, etc. 


On the other hand, suppose that the same words are 
to be asserted, or particularized; then this might be 
expressed by separating the clauses thus: I have, in 
my day, seen horrible tempests; I have seen winds that 
would sever the toughest oak; I have seen manifesta- 
tions of power in the ocean; I have known it toss the 
spray in its fury, until it seemed as if the waters would 
reach even to the clouds. 

Dec. Here lies the East : doth not the day break here? 

Case a. No. 

Cin. O, pardon, sir, it doth ; and yon gray lines 
That fret the clouds are messengers of day. 

Casca. You shall confess that you are both deceived. 
Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises; 
Which is a great way growing on the South, 
Weighing the youthful season of the year. 
Some two months hence, up higher toward the North 
He first presents his fire ; and the high East 
Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. 

— Jul. Cces. II., i. 

Here inversion will be specially serviceable in the fol- 
lowing cases: The East is in this direction. Is it 
not in this quarter of the heavens that we see the break 
of day? And yon gray lines that fret the clouds 
are the day's messengers. Again, the two assertions 
upon " both" and " deceived" will be effected in para- 
phrase by making two clauses. You shall confess that 
you are deceived; both of you. And the next line 
might be re-arranged thus: The point in which the 
sun rises is in this direction. Then the line, " Weighing 
the youthful season of the year," must not be so said 


as to throw emphasis upon year, which is, of course, 
understood. It is the earliest portion of the year; 
hence, "youthful" must be asserted, and the line might 
be inverted so as to read, Weighing that season of 
the year which is the earliest. In the following sen- 
tence, the word "North" receives the only full assertion. 
The absence of punctuation will incline the careless 
reader to neglect the emphasis of this word. If he 
will stop to recast it, he will see that "North" more 
logically comes at the end of the sentence; and its true 
position, as indicating emphasis in the sentence, might 
well be at the close: thus; Some two months hence 
he first presents himself up higher, toward the North. 
In the next clause, for a similar reason, we should be 
obliged to separate the word "East" from the other 
elements of the sentence, making of it a separate 
clause: as thus; Considering, then, the extreme South 
point of the sun's rising, and the point highest North, 
where shall we look for the East? That stands just as 
the Capitol does, in this direction. 

Take this example from 1 Cor. xv. 50: 

Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the 
kingdom of God. 

The principal assertions are upon the pronoun " this," 
and the expression "flesh and blood." Both of these 
assertions may be revealed thus: Now the point of the 
argument, brethren, is this: The spiritual kingdom can- 
not be inherited by mortal bodies. Verse 20 of the 
same chapter is often mistaken. 


But now hath Christ been 'raised from the dead, the first fruits of 
them that are asleep. 

The chief assertion is upon the verb "hath been 
raised;" and in this verb the distinctive part is the 
auxiliary "hath," which represents the action as already 
completed. The attention does not need to be called to 
the idea of raising. The question is as to whether 
Christ's resurrection is now an accomplished fact. To 
reveal this, the first clause might be paraphrased thus: 
But now the resurrection of Christ has taken place. 

Verse 35, also, is easily misread: 

But some man will say, How are the dead raised, and with what 
manner of body do they come ? 

The emphasis is often placed upon the words "raised" 
and "come;" but evidently the idea contained in 
"raised" has been so many times stated or distinctly 
implied in the preceding verses that it is now simply 
taken for granted, or assumed; and the word "come" 
contains no essential significance, being merely the 
commonplace filling out of the sentence. The true 
emphasis will be revealed by paraphrasing thus: But 
some man will say, this raising of the dead is done how? 
And when the dead rise, they will have what sort of 

Now with these two words in mind as the central, 
or emphatic words, read the verse as it stands in the 
text. The inversion is not suggested as an improve- 
ment upon the style of the passage, but as a means of 


compelling one's mind to recognize the asserted ele- 
ments in the different clauses. 

Inversion is a momentary help toward restoring to its 
true logical importance any element that may have been 
obscured by its weaker position; it compels emphasis 
for the moment, by securing "dynamic stress." 

Inversion, as here used, is not designed to suggest 
relations of " momentary completeness" in the final 
interpretation, nor to indicate that the common falling 
slide accompanied by pause should mark the assertive 
word. The continuative slide (!_) shows that the ele- 
ment is not to be separated, but is to have its force in 
its connections. With our uninflected language, it is 
often impossible to secure perfect adjustment of em- 
phasis, and " assertion" is a great corrective. 




Completeness, incompleteness, assumption, and asser- 
tion are usually simple in their nature. We have also 
many cases of composite or combined relations,, 
expressing in the same word or phrase different simulta- 
neous notions. Such complex relations often need some 
special symbol in the intonation; and for this use the 
circumflexes are naturally adapted. The double motion 
of the voice upon a single sound or group of sounds, is 
an instinctive type of the double purpose in the speak- 
ing mind. The following alliterated rule carries more 
than a mnemonic significance: 

Slides are simple, circumflexes are complex. 

The double sense suggested by a circumflex is most 
apparent in the case of irony. 

He is a nice man. 

So in many a joke; as, when a highway is torn up 
for repairs, one says: 

You call this improving the roads, do you? 

Or in a pun: 

Now is it Rome indeed, and Room enough, 

When there is in it but one only man. — Jul. Cass. /., 2. 

Also in a serious play upon words; as, 

Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, 

Thou makest thy knife keen. — Mer. Ven. IV,, 1. 


Seems Madam! Nay, it is. I know not seems. 

We recognize three distinct types, or varieties, of 
composite relations. 

1. Comparison or Contrast, with Affirma- 
tion. — This supposes two elements in the thought, and 
usually implies, rather than states, the holding of the 
two before the attention at the same moment. Its 
vocal symbol is the falling circumflex. 

Comparison usually takes the interval of about a 
third and return; Contrast about a fifth. Comparison 
more easily carries over the thought from one thing to 
another, while Contrast sets one thing sharply up against 
the other. Comparison may be marked [/~\], Contrast 



John, too, has come. 

That is, John came, as well as Charlie. 

It is open, I say. 

That is, it is open instead of closed. 

When both members of the antithesis or of the com- 
parison are separately and fully expressed, and when 
the parts stand close together, they usually take con- 
trasted slides instead of condensed, or circumflex, inflec- 
tion; as, 

I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him: 

I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, 
But here I am, to speak what I do know. 

Whereas, " I come not here to talk," would require a 


circumflex upon talk, since the other member of the 
antithesis is only implied. 

This is not the only reason. 

Here the other reasons that might be named are sup- 
pressed, and the word " only" must imply the contrast. 
It will need the circumflex. 

2. Comparison or Contrast with. Incom- 
pleteness. — This is rendered still more complex 
by the addition of an element of subordination, nega- 
tion, interrogation, or some other type of incomplete- 
ness. Its symbol is the wave [^w]. 

Could I but know this now! 

Here the contrast between knowing and only surmis- 
ing, is joined with anticipation, doubt, or uncertainty. 

Some do. 

Here the contrast is coupled with a negation, imply- 
ing; many, on the contrary, do not. 

I do not like your faults. 

This plainly implies a contrast, with negation or 

The fact of their involved double significance renders 
these forms especially useful in sarcasm, raillery, etc. 
They may, however, be legitimately used in wit and 
humor. They often express surprise, which is really a 
contrast between what was expected and what is seen. 
They are legitimately used whenever it is most econom- 
ical to imply double relations of thought, rather than 
explicitly to state both of the combined ideas. 


3. Affirmation with Incompleteness, — This 
is similar to Assertion; but differs from it in these two 

(1) Assertion is more objective, designed to point 
out some element in the thought to the notice of the 
listener, while Affirmation with Incompleteness is 
more subjective, indicating somew r hat the attitude or 
feeling of the speaker. 

(2) While Assertion has coupled with it a certain 
incompleteness, it is only that of connectedness or sub- 
ordination, which is of the weakest kind. Affirmation 
with Incompleteness, on the other hand, joins with the 
stronger subjective attitude an interrogation, a negation, 
an entreaty, or some one of the more distinctly expres- 
sive types of incompleteness. It is thus essentially 
double in its significance, combining a positive and a 
negative element of thought; typically, an assertion 
and an appeal. This double significance appears 
plainly in such expressions as: 

You won't gS, 

When it means: You will not go, w r ill you ? 

You don't believe that, 

Meaning: You do not believe it; do you? 
As in this case, so usually, the twofold thought could 
be made more apparent by separating the elements 
which are packed into one briefer form. The vocal 
symbol of this double relation is the rising circum- 
flex [wV]. 

The office of the inflection in the interpretation of 


such twofold expression, is, most economically to sug- 
gest the hidden or implied element. The two motions 
of the voice united in one, naturally symbolize the two 
motives in the mind combined in one. We must not 
regard the phraseology alone, but must seek to find all 
that is naturally implied, considering the context and 
the circumstances of the utterance. 

Paraphrase for Complex Relations. — These, 
as already seen, are cases of combined ideas, expressed 
by composite motions of the voice, called circumflexes. 
In order to justify such double motion of the voice, 
the mind of the reader needs to recognize the combined 
ideas implied in the words. He will make himself 
surer of this by analyzing, or separating' into its 
component parts, each composite idea. 

Be not too tame neither. 

Here is a plain implication of one member of the 
antithesis, and it might be expanded thus: As you are 
not to be extravagant in your expression, so you are 
not to be too quiet. 

This combination of separable elements might be 
illustrated by diagram; thus: 

extravagant, so You 
be are 

to not 

not to 

are be 

you too 

As ' quiet. 

Be not too tame neither. 

Here the negative, or anticipatory, clause is, in the 


condensed form, suggested by the negative, or rising, 
part of the circumflex; the positive clause, by the fall- 
ing part of the tone. 

In a similar way two separate elements, both of 
which are verbally expressed, may be combined in one 
elliptical, or complex, clause ; c. g., 

I come to bury C?esar. not to praise him. 

Inverting clauses, 

Caesar, but I 
praise come 

to to 

not bury 

come him. 


I come to bury Caesar. 

The same method of illustration may be extended 
ad libitum. 

This device of diagramming is recommended as ser- 
viceable for some minds, and for a short time. It cor- 
responds to diagramming of sentences for grammatical 

- The most natural order is that in which the negative 
member comes first. In expanding this will often need 
to be supplied, as it is most often the negative mem- 
ber of the antithesis that is implied. 

O, reform it altogether. 

Expanded: Do not be satisfied with a partial reform, 
finish it. 

Ha??i. I do not well understand that. 
Will you play upon this pipe? 
Guild. My lord, I cannot. 


Ham. I pray you. 

Guild. Believe me, I cannot. ^ 

Ham. I do beseech you. 

Guild. I know no touch of it, my lord. 

Ham. It is as easy as lying : govern these ventages with your fingers 
and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most 
eloquent music. 

Look you, these are the stops. 

Guild. But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony ; 
I have not the skill. 

Ham. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! 
You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you 
would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from 
my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music, 
excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 

'S blood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? 
Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot 
play upon me. 

Here expansions of the combined ideas may be sug- 
gested, as in the following cases; the second "cannot": 
As I have told you once, so I must say again. The 
word 4 ' beseech": I have once asked you; allow me to 
repeat the request. So in the word " touch": To say 
nothing of professional skill, I do not know the first 
thing about it. Upon the word " lying" the falling 
circumflex gives comparison, which might be thus am- 
plified: As easy as it is to lie, so easy is it to play. 
Then in Hamlet's longer speech: 

Why, look you now — how unworthy a thing you make of me ! 

"Me" contains a contrast; thus: If you cannot manage 
a simple instrument, what will you do with the human 

You would seem to know my stops. 


The word "my" plainly implies a similar comparison 
with negation. 

Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? 

Here we have a case of affirmation with interroga- 
tion: You consider me easier than a pipe, do you? 
And in "fret" we have a case of contrast with incom- 
pleteness, that of anticipation, which might be ex- 
panded thus: You may indeed attempt to manipulate 
me as a man fingers a flute, but though you try to do 
this, you will not succeed. The triple motion of the 
voice in the wave made upon the word "fret" doubt- 
less implies this treble thought, or at least a double 
thought, consisting of two parts, contrast and incom- 

Observe similar composite effects in this extract from 
the quarrel scene in Julius Csesar: 

Cas. A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, 
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. 

Bru. I do not, till you practice them on me. 

Cas. You love me not. • 

Bru. I do not like your faults. 

Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. 

Bru. A flatterer's would not, though they did appear 
As huge as high Olympus. 

"Practice" might be expanded somewhat thus: 
Your faults, when kept to yourself, do not disturb me, 
but you must not employ them upon me. And in 
Cassius' reply, the word "love" contains, evidently, 
some such contrast as this: It is not, Brutus, so much 
your suffering of wrong from me as your lack of aftec- 


tion for me. " Faults" has contrast with negation, and 
might be expressed thus: Your good traits are one 
thing, your faults, another; I do not deny that I dislike 
the latter. The contrasts implied in " friendly" and 
"see" suggest this: Although such faults might exist 
they would not be detected by a friend. And in 
Brutus' reply, " flatterer's" manifestly contains the con- 
trast between the sincerity of friendship and the hypoc- 
risy of adulation. 

Find and expand the contrasts in the following pass- 

Ham. Now, mother, what's the matter? 
Queen. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. 
Ham. Mother, you have my father much offended. 
Queen. Come, come; you answer with an idle tongue. 
Ham. Go, go ; you question with a wicked tongue. 
Queen. Why, how now, Hamlet! What's the matter now? 

Have you forgot me? 
Ha??i. No, by the rood, not so: 

You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife ; 

And — would it were not so ! — you are my mother. 

Paraphrasing is, perhaps, more practicable and more 
useful in Discrimination than in the other moods of ut- 
terance, since here the special purpose is to discover the 
relations between ideas and thoughts; and these rela- 
tions can be found in no other way so well as by this 
device of reconstructing, inverting, and reformulating. 

The only danger in the habit is that one may hastily 
assume an interpretation, and then paraphrase so as to 
justify or defend his position. It is supposed, of course, 
that the earnest student will decide upon the meaning 


of a passage according to rational principles of inter- 
pretation, and that he will choose a defensible position, 
— one that he can justify by a clear and natural re- 
statement of the thought. Such new formation, bring- 
ing out the relations between the thoughts, constitutes 
discriminative paraphrase. 

The usefulness of this practice as a mental gymnastic, 
as well as a special aid to vocal rendering, can scarcely 
be overestimated. Accuracy, quickness, flexibility, and 
continuity of thinking', are the first requisites; and 
the direct results of the discipline will be variety, vivid- 
ness, freshness, and reality in vocal interpretation. 

Further Directions for the Study of Dis- 

Analyze selections in all styles, noting first the gen- 
eral features of Assumption and Assertion, Complete- 
ness and Incompleteness, Comparison and Contrast; 
and afterward the particular reasons for assuming or 
asserting; the specific kinds of Completeness or Incom- 
pleteness; and the precise combinations of ideas consti- 
tuting Complex Relations. Reduce complex forms to 
separate, simple propositions, as in the examples above 
(pages 130-134). 

Precision in the discernment of these thought- 
relations through their vocal symbols will, in a reflex 
way, greatly aid clearness of style in writing, and w T ill 
be indispensable to clearness in vocal interpretation. 


Train both ear and voice to fine discernment in the use 
of these variations of pitch. Use at first the exact 
intervals of the musical scale as indicated above. In 
studying slides follow this order: Take two musical 
tones, as do, re ; slur them; sing the slurred notes to a 
single syllable; for example, "one." Now slur again, 
but this time perceptibly diminish the second tone; sing 
it a third time diminishing it still more; continue to 
diminish the second tone until it is heard, not as a sepa- 
rate and distinct sound, but as a "vanish" of the first tone. 
You will now have essentially the rising slide of the 
second, which typifies subordination, pointing onward 
rather than upward. Now count numbers; one, two, 
three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten; rapidly, 
using these degrees of pitch; next take rapid clauses 
naturally illustrating subordination, and speak these 
upon the same interval. 

I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, fore- 
gone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my 
disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile prom- 
ontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'er- 
hanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, 
it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation 
of vapours. — Ham, II., 2. 

But as we often see, against some storm, 
A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, 
The bold winds speechless, and the orb below 
As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder 
Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus' pause, 
Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work ; 
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall 


On Mars's armour, forged for proof eterne, 

With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword 

Now falls on Priam, — Ibid. 

Do the same with the interval of the third, using 
after the numerals such examples as those given above 
under " Anticipation." Practice the fourth and the 
fifth in the same way, using numerals and examples 
expressing negation and interrogation respectively. 

A very good technical drill is the following: Upon, 
the second, after singing it as a slur, repeat rapidly 
such a sentence as this: The numerals are one, and 
two, and three, and four, and five, and six, and seven,, 
and eight; — then take the third and say: If it should 
be one, or two, or three, or four, or five, or six, or sev- 
en, or eight; then the fourth, saying: It is neither 
one, nor two, nor three, nor four, nor five, nor six, nor 
seven, nor eight; then the fifth, with this: Is it one? 
is it two? is it three? is it four? is it five? is it six? 
is it seven? is it eight? Now take the falling slides 
for momentary completeness: It is one, and two, and 
thr£e, and four, and five, and six, and seven, and eight; 
then take the falling circumflex: it is one, not two; it 
is two, not three; it is three, not four; it is four, not 
five; it is five, not six; it is six, not seven; it is seven,, 
not eight. Illustrate the " wave" by this clause: If it 
were only one instead of more. The rising circumflex 
by this: Is it but one? which is equivalent to these 
two clauses: You mean only one; do you? 

Now it is not maintained that all voices uniformly^ 


measure thought-relations in exact musical intonation. 
Careful observation, however, shows that the majority 
of voices do give approximately such intervals as are 
indicated above, and that the average listener does in- 
terpret the inflections as here given. There are as 
great differences between various kinds of rising slides 
as between rising and falling slides. There are as marked 
contrasts among circumflexes as between slide and 

Inflection is a generic term, under which belong the 
species and varieties here given. It is indefinite and 
undiscerning to say "the rising inflection." So, it 
means nothing to say "the circumflex." Expressive 
speech depends largely upon accurate, intelligent, facile 
use of the elements of discrimination. They are not, 
however, to be sought as an acquirement, or as a nicety 
of vocalization, but always as the minute measure- 
ment of thought-relations. The logical properties 
of the thought should, therefore, always be recognized 
first, and distinctly. Never " try on" a passage by first 
speaking it aloud to see whether it sounds well, and 
then inferring what it might mean; but settle the mean- 
ing first, and then employ the tools of expression. This 
process may at first seem mechanical, but it is really 
no more so than choice of words, or decision as to the 
construction of sentences. Even more than those 
grammatical and rhetorical operations, this expres- 
sional habit will rapidly become instinctive and auto- 
matic. A fine discernment of shades of meaning 


through intonation will greatly assist in interpreting 
spoken thought, and in reading character. The dis- 
criminative properties of intonation are the nicest in- 
dications of a cultured mind. 

The following passages are specially favorable for 
discriminative analysis: 

John ix. 

I Cor. xv. 35-54- 

Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 1, lines 1-60. 

Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 2, lines 160-260. 

Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 1, whole scene. 



He only is advancing in life whose heart is getting softer, whose 
blood warmer, whose brain quicker, whose spirit is entering into living 
peace. — Ruskin. 

Definition of Emotion in Expression. — Emo- 
tion, as a mood of utterance, is directly concerned with 
the sensibilities. Subjectively, it is the speaker's purpose 
to reveal his feeling, or to allow the feeling to manifest 
itself, in regard to the subject of discourse; and to 
awaken similar feeling in his hearers. 

We must distinguish between the final, and the 
momentary purpose, as it regards emotion. The final 
purpose has reference to the mood, or state of 
mind, to which the speaker wishes to bring his 
listeners, as the result of the entire communication. 
The momentary purpose has to do either with 
the means to that end, or with incidental or par- 
enthetical thought. The final purpose may dominate 
the whole speech, greatly modifying the feelings in the 
incidental and intermediate matter; or it may, at first, 
be completely covered and concealed. Cases in which 
the final purpose dominates the whole perceptibly, are 
such as the following: " How They Brought the Good 
News from Ghent," by Browning; " Lochinvar," by 


Scott; Lincoln's Dedication Speech at Gettysburg; 
Webster's speech on the White Murder Case; and 
Blaine's Eulogy on Garfield. 

Examples of temporary concealment are: Antony's 
Funeral Eulogy; Portia's Court Room Speech; Wen- 
dell Phillips' lecture on " Idols." 

In practical study we must inquire as to both the 
final purpose and the momentary. The latter will, of 
course, be subservient to the former, and will be modi- 
fied by it; yet we must often lose sight, temporarily, of 
the final aim, and give ourselves up for the moment 
to the passing thought or feeling. 

Nothing is more subtile, more varied in its combina- 
tions, more difficult to trace and analyze, than the ele- 
ment of emotion in expression; yet nothing else gives 
to delivery such color, warmth, reality, and effective- 
ness. We must, therefore, attempt to survey at least 
the leading lines of feeling and their means of expres- 
sion, respectively. First, however, we must notice 
some of the relations of Emotion, and consider the 
general means for its expression. We shall then be 
prepared to take up the leading classes of feeling as re- 
lated to utterance, devoting to each a separate chapter. 

Relations of Emotion. — Of necessity many ele- 
ments enter into the full measurement of emotion, 
because emotion itself is complex, and is dependent 
upon many conditions and relations. The cause of the 
feeling must usually be apparent, and especially must 
the relations of ideas^ out of which the feeling grows, 


be obvious. Hence, the elements of deliberation and 
discrimination are presupposed. 

On the other hand, feeling, in most cases, acts directly 
upon the will; it generally leads to, and justifies,, 
some distinct form of energy. Emotion thus stands 
logically between the intellectual and the volitional; it 
is induced by perception of facts and relations, and it 
leads to the commitment of the will to some definite 
state or action. 

Means of Expression. — The expression of emo- 
tion cannot be fully given until all the elements of 
thought and utterance have been analyzed. We may, 
however, note here its two principal features, which are 
bodily bearing and tone-color, or quality. 

All emotional states are most directly symbolized by 
the general condition of the body ; including, 

(a) The bearing; 

(p) The attitude; 

(c) The "texture" — or degree of contraction or 
relaxation in the muscles; and, 

(d) Specific action, or gesticulation. 

It must be remembered, in the discussion of all the 
types of emotion, that these general physical con- 
ditions, which are called " pantomimic expression/' 
naturally precede and induce the corresponding 
tone-quality, which becomes the vocal expression 
of the emotion. 

The characteristic element in the vocal expression 
of emotion is "quality," or " color," of tone. Whatever 


other elements may be present or absent, if the thought 
is prevailingly emotional, this tone-element must char- 
acterize the expression. 

A distinction must be made between " quality" and 
" property." The latter is a generic term; the former, 
specific. " Property" as here used, means any essential 
attribute of tone, — that which inheres in it of necessity; 
that without which the tone could not exist. Thus 
the properties of tone are time, pitch, quality, or " color," 
and force. 

11 Quality" in tone is that characteristic which depends 
upon the degree of purity and volume, or of harshness,, 
breathiness, or interruption of vibration. In every case 
it should agree with the general condition of the body; 
and usually is directly induced by such condition. The 
bearing, muscular texture, government of breath, ges- 
ticulation, facial expression, — in short, the whole 
pantomimic manifestation of the mind's attitude and 
action, — have very much to do with the distinctive qual- 
ities of the voice. Practically, w r e never study tone- 
qualities apart from these analogous elements in pan- 
tomimic expression. For the purpose of the present 
analysis, Jiowever, we shall speak of the tone-qualities 
by themselves. 

We recognize six distinct qualities, which fit approx- 
imately, and under the modifications above named, as 
many distinct classes of emotions. Each of these we 
shall give in connection with the particular kind of 
feeling it expresses. 


It is not meant that there are six classes and no 
more, nor that these six are always clearly distinguished 
from each other; but that these give us sufficiently 
definite types for practical classification. As in colors 
we recognize seven elemental kinds, or types, of which 
there may be an indefinite number of shades and com- 
binations; so in tone-colors the number of different 
shadings that are recognizable is practically unlimited, 
yet all may be traced to a few distinct types. 

General Idea of Paraphrasing for Emotion. 
— In order to make the expression genuine, the situation 
with its attendant thoughts, reflections, and experiences, 
must be reproduced in imagination. 

As in the other moods, so here, the purpose of par- 
aphrasing will be to restate, to expand, sometimes to 
contract — always to change — the phraseology, in such 
a way as to compel the reader to reform the image, and 
vivify the feeling connected with the thing to be spoken. 
In the nature of the case, emotional paraphrase will be 
less calculating, possibly less logical, more spontaneous 
and unpremeditated, than paraphrases employed in the 
other moods. It will, therefore, be more subjective 
than the other; yet its t very intensity makes 
more needful that it be rationalized by the considera- 
tion of such facts, truths, and relations as are naturally 
brought out by objective paraphrasing. Hence, the 
objective should be employed first. In general, then, 
there will be these two ways of paraphrasing: 


1. Objective, showing occasion, circumstances, etc., 
calling for such and such feeling; and 

2. Subjective, consisting largely in the addition of 
qualifying terms, as adjectives, adverbs, exclamations, 
expanded expressions, phrases, clauses, which may 
more fully reveal the speaker s attitude toward the 
thing to be said, toward the audience, occasion, or any- 
thing connected with the utterance. 

It is of practical value as directly affecting the into- 
nation, that the speaker or reader distinguish between 
the objective and subjective methods of paraphrasing, 
We speak of the two as " methods" rather than as 
kinds, because the result is to be substantially the same 
in either case. The finer, subtler, more vitally expres- 
sive properties of the intonation will depend directly 
on the mind's action in the mental expansion or com- 
ments accompanying the spoken words. If the para- 
phrase is prevailingly objective, the utterance will be 
characterized by more of cool discernment, more of 
discrimination, more of breadth and less of intensity; 
it will be more impersonal and less impassioned. If, 
on the other hand, the mental expansion is distinct- 
ively subjective, this w T ill be revealed by an intonation 
conveying more palpably the personal relation of the 
speaker, — more of intensity and of passion. 



More Intellectual. 
Perceptibly connected with De- 
liberation and Discrimination. 

Distinctively Emotional. 
Plainly leading toward Energy » 






Objective paraphrasing awakens feeling by showing 
causes for it; Subjective intensifies feeling by dwelling 
on it. 




UNDER this term is comprehended all that belongs to 
the most healthy, undisturbed, well-balanced, comfort- 
able and comfort-giving emotions. 

It includes the emotions of the agreeable, the cheerful, 
the conciliating, the commendatory, or that which may- 
be called simple, natural, or commonplace. This type 
of feeling lies nearest to the condition in which there is 
no marked emotion; and yet it must characterize a 
large portion of our daily speech, and of public utter- 
ance. Its chief element is the natural pleasure felt in 
meeting another mind, and in communicating thought. 
This, of itself, gives a certain degree of animation and 
pleasure. As no one department of the mind can be 
wholly dormant while another portion acts, so, even in 
the coolest processes of deliberation or discrimination, 
there will always be a traceable emotion, however 
slight. This lowest, or most common, degree, which we 
have called " normal," enters as an element into per- 
haps ninety per cent, of our daily utterances. 

The pantomimic expression of normal feeling con- 
sists in a combination of repose and elasticity. 
The attitude will usually be that technically called 
" repose," or that of mild " animation." The general 
texture of the body will be that of moderate relaxation 


tempered with a certain buoyancy and readiness for 
prompt, easy action. As a rule gesture will be used 
but slightly; the tendency will perhaps be toward the 
lighter types of demonstrative gesticulation, such as 
revealing, affirming, inquiring, supporting. 

The vocal exponent of normal feeling is Pure 
Quality. This is the simplest musical vibration. It 
is full and resonant, but not necessarily loud. It is the 
result of the normal action of the vocal organs. Such 
action produces the maximum of elasticity, concentra- 
tion, and resonance, with the minimum of muscular 
effort. It agrees with the laws of sound, producing a 
self-propagating, automatic tone-wave, unmodified by 
any additional breath and uninterrupted by false mus- 
cular contraction. 

The "pure tone" is more objective in its effect than is 
any other quality; that is, it transmits thought with the 
least suggestion of the personality of the speaker. It 
therefore fits most naturally that emotional condition 
which has the least of subjectivity, or of palpable and 
striking emotionality. The tone, like the mental atti- 
tude which it typifies, is characterized by the freshness, 
elasticity, and freedom which accompany normal and 
agreeable activity. 

This quality of tone is to be secured: 

(1) By proper physical and vocal exercises. 

(2) By singing and chanting poetry and prose. 

(3) By reading musically; that is, preserving the 
same kind of vibration as in singing, but adding clear 


articulation and rhetorical groupings and inflections. 
" Musical" reading is not designed to induce droning or 
a"sing-song" style. Itneednotbemonotonous. It must 
be vibrant. The tone is to be placed in the front of 
the mouth. All parts of the vocal apparatus are to be 
flexible, elastic, vigorous, but perfectly easy in their 
action. The body must be kept in perfect poise, either 
in repose or in animation; and the whole being is to be 
animated but restful. 

Select, for the cultivation of this quality, passages 
expressing repose, cheer, slight buoyancy, hearty inter- 
est, and animation. 

Harp of the North ! that mouldering long hast hung 

On the witch-elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring, 
And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 

Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 
Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, — 

O Minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep ? 
'Mid rustling leaves, and fountains murmuring, 

Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep, 
Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep? 

Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon, 

Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd, 
When lay of hopeless love, or glory won, 

Aroused the fearful or subdued the proud. 
At each according pause was heard aloud 

Thine ardent symphony sublime and high ! 
Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bowed ; 

For still the burden of thy minstrelsy 
W r as Knighthood's dauntless deed, and Beauty's matchless eye. 

O, wake once more ! how rude soe'er the hand 
That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray ; 
O, wake once more ! though scarce my skill command 


Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay: 
Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, 

And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 
Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 

The wizard note has not been touched in vain. 
Then silent be no more! Enchantress, wake again! 

"Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; 
Dream of battled fields no more, 

Days of danger, nights of waking. 
In our isle's enchanted hall, 

Hands unseen thy couch are strewing; 
Fairy strains of music fall, 

Every sense in slumber dewing. 
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, 
Dream of fighting fields no more : 
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, 
Morn of toil, nor night of waking. 

" No rude sound shall reach thine ear, 

Armor's clang, or war-steed champing, 
Trump nor pibroch summon here 
Mustering clan or squadron tramping : 
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 

At the daybreak from the fallow, 
And the bittern sound his drum, 

Booming from the sedgy shallow. 
Ruder sounds shall none be near, 
Guards nor warders challenge here ; 
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, 
Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping." 

She paused, — then, blushing, led the lay 
To grace the stranger of the day. 
Her mellow notes awhile prolong 
The cadence of the flowing song, 
Till to her lips in measured frame 
The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 


** Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; 

While our slumbrous spells assail ye, 
Dream not, with the rising sun, 

Bugles here shall sound reveille. 
Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; 

Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying; 
Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen 

How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; 
Think not of the rising sun, 
For at dawning to assail ye 
Here no bugles sound reveille." 

— Scott. 

The quality of mercy is not strain 'd; 

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 

Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest ; 

It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes 

The throned monarch better than his crown ; 

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 

The attribute to awe and majesty, 

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; 

But mercy is above this sceptred sway ; 

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 

It is an attribute to God himself ; 

And earthly power doth then show likest God's 

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, 

Though justice be thy plea, consider this, — 

That in the course of justice none of us 

Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy ; 

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 

The deeds of mercy. 

—Mer. Veit.IV., 1. 

Paraphrase for Normal Feeling. — This class, 
as already indicated, occupies the most neutral ground, 
and covers many utterances that will be classed, in an 


expressional analysis, as predominantly deliberative 
or discriminative, rather than emotional. They are 
recognized here because even the subordinate degree 
of emotionality which many of them contain, needs to 
be put to account in the coloring of the delivery. 

Considered objectively, the only paraphrasing or 
comment needed in the majority of such utterances 
will be the indication of the circumstances which make 
the cortimunication agreeable or pleasant. Typical 
cases, of this would be the ordinary rhetorical introduc- 
tion. In this it is quite common for the speaker to ex- 
press in words many of the attendant circumstances 
and conditions of his appearance before the audience. 
This is done for the very purpose of which we are now 
speaking; namely, to induce in his own mind and in 
the minds of his hearers an agreeable, pleasant emo- 
tional condition. Often the verbal utterance of such 
introductory considerations consumes needless time, and 
fails, after all, to secure its purpose as well as that pur- 
pose might be gained by the speaker's thinking, or say- 
ing to himself, the same or similar introductory remarks. 

It is almost always true that the speaker himself will 
need to think many more sentences than it will be safe 
or wise to speak. 

The following is the very gentlemanly conversational 
introduction of Dr. Richard S. Storrs in his lectures on 
" Preaching Without Notes." * 

* Preaching Without Notes. Three lectures delivered before the 
students of Union Theological Seminary, N. Y. City, Jan., 1875. By 
Richard S. Storrs, D.D., LL. D. Dodd & Mead, New York. 


Mr. President: Young Gentlemen: — 

There will be no misunderstanding between us, I presume, as to my 
general purpose and plan in coming hither, or in what I am to say to 
you, now and hereafter. I do not come, of course, to deliver systematic 
and elaborate lectures, on the subject upon which I am to speak. You 
have Professors to do that ; with leisure, skill, and an aptness for the 
office which I do not possess ; and I should only be intruding myself 
upon their function, without invitation and without warrant, if I were 
to attempt anything of the kind. I have come simply to talk with you 
a little, in a familiar way, of the conditions of success in preaching 
without notes ; and to offer some thoughts, concerning these condi- 
tions, which are suggested to me by my own experience. 

I have thought, in looking back on my Seminary course, that I 
should have been glad if some one who had entered the ministry be- 
fore me had then told me, frankly and fully, as I hope to tell you, 
what he had learned by any efforts which he had made in this direc- 
tion. So I have cheerfully accepted the invitation to do for you what 
I see I should have been glad to have had some one else then do for 

I am somewhat abashed, I confess, at finding so many present whom 
I have not come prepared to address: Professors, Secretaries, Clergy- 
men, Lawyers, Editors, and others — many of them masters of every 
art and power of eloquence, as 1 am not, and far better qualified to in- 
struct me on the subject than I am to give suggestions to them. But 
I shall not be diverted from the one purpose which has brought me 
hither — to talk familiarly and freely to you. If what I am to say shall 
seem common-place, as very likely it will, to these gentlemen whose 
presence I did not anticipate, I can only remind them that they are not 
here at my invitation, and that if they choose to take part of their 
purgatory in this life, and in this particular fashion, we cannot object. 
But I have only you to speak to; and shall not turn aside to consider 
whether that which is in my mind is, or is not, what they have come- 
to hear. 

As I said, the suggestions which I make will be largely those de- 
rived from my personal experience. I do not know that you will find 
much profit in them, for I remember the remark of Coleridge that 
"experience is like the stern-light of a ship at sea: it enlightens only 


the track which has been passed over." There are such differences be^ 
tween men, in temperament, habit, mental constitution, the natural 
and customary methods of work, that the experience of one may not 
suggest much of value to another, and I shall not be disappointed if 
mine is not very serviceable to you. Indeed, this matter of speaking 
freely to a public assembly, without notes, is eminently one in regard 
to which every man must learn for himself; and no one can make his 
•own method a rule for another, unless he can simultaneously exchange 
minds with him — a thing which in our case would be neither possible 
for me, nor perhaps profitable for you. Still : the rules which expe- 
rience suggests are likely to be better than those which theorists 
elaborate in their libraries ; and I have got more help myself from 
hints of others, working in the same direction, than from any discus- 
sions in learned treatises. So I shall give you what I can, and hope 
for the best; and if anything which I may say shall prove to be of ser- 
vice to you, I shall be amply rewarded for the work. 

Now while no fault is to be found with this introduc- 
tion, considering the nature and circumstances of the 
lectures, and considering also the fact that they were 
-extemporaneous and conversational, yet it is obvious 
that in many other conditions it would not be admissi- 
ble to make so extended an introduction of this nature; 
but is there any word in this introduction which the 
speaker could have afforded to dismiss from his own 
mind? Are there not, on the contrary, many more 
facts, considerations, and feelings implied, than have 
found place even in this full expression? 

Notice also the introduction to a similar course of 
lectures by Dr. Taylor.* 

" What can the man do that cometh after the King? " My two dis- 
* The Ministry of the Word, by Wm. M. Taylor. D. D. Anson F. 

JRandolph & Co., N. Y. These Lectures were delivered at Yale, 

Union, Princeton, and Oberlin. 


tinguished predecessors in this Lectureship, unmindful of the generous 
order of Boaz to his reapers, to " let fall some of the handfuls of pur- 
pose " for the poor Gentile gleaner, have so thoroughly swept the 
field, that nothing is left for me save here and there an ear. This 
would be hard for anyone ; how much more for one who has to con- 
fess that he is, as yet, a learner in the department in which they are 
masters! For two and twenty years I have been striving to reach my 
ideal of the Christian preacher, and it seems to me as if I were to-day 
as far from it as ever. Always, as I have appeared to advance towards 
it, it has fled before me, and still it hovers above and beyond me, 
beckoning me on to some attainment yet unrealized. Never did it 
seem to me so difficult to preach as it does to-day. The magnitude of 
the work grows upon me the longer I engage in it ; and with every new 
attempt I make, there comes the painful consciousness that I have not 
yet attained. Twenty years ago, I thought I could preach a little, and 
flattered myself that I knew something about Homiletics. Now I 
feel that I am but a beginner, and the thought of addressing you upon 
such a subject fills me with dismay. Still we may get on well 
together, if only you will consent to regard me as a fellow student, or 
at least as an elder brother, striving with you after the same end, and 
speaking to you out of the fullness of his heart, that he may warn you 
to avoid the mistakes which he has made, and stimulate you to aim 
after that efficiency on which his own heart is set. 

Compare with these the brief condensed sentences 
reported to have been given by Daniel Webster as an 
introduction to his famous speech in the " White Mur- 
der Case." It is probable that at this distant day we 
have not the. full introduction as Webster spoke it in 
the court room, but rather the condensation of com- 
pilers and publishers. Nevertheless it serves our pur- 
pose as welVperhaps even better, as illustrating how 
many implied thoughts and considerations must be 
passing through the speaker's mind during the utter- 
ance of the brief introduction, in order to give the 


necessary tone and color to the few words he says. 

Against the prisoner at the bar, as an individual, I cannot have the 
slightest prejudice. I would not do him the smallest injury or in- 

Now it is evident that these few words are packed 
full of conciliation and kindly feeling, belonging pre- 
cisely to the class we are now considering. The brief 
words themselves, however, must be infused with the 
feeling suggested to the speaker's own mind, by men- 
tally saying many additional things, while speaking to 
the jury the brief sentences quoted. The mental am- 
plification might be somewhat as follows: 

I am a citizen, and a representative of the bar, making it my busi- 
ness and my duty to attend to the demands of justice. It cannot be 
an object to me, in such a case as this, to secure the conviction and 
punishment of a man who has never done me, personally, the slightest 
injury. The prisoner is a fellow man, toward whom, as such, I have 
the feeling of companionship and brotherhood as toward any other 
man. There can be nothing in the relations between us to cause me 
to feel otherwise. Indeed, there are no particular relations existing 
between us. I am here simply, gentlemen, an honest, unprejudiced 
man, as you all know me, to seek the interests of justice. Let me 
then ask you, first of all, to lay aside — if you have conceived any such 
— all feelings of suspicion toward me, as if I would wrong this poor 
fellow, or as if I could have any other interest in the case than that 
of good will, desiring what is best for all. 

It is not simply in oratory that such amplifications 
are to be supplied. Anything in literature, when read 
aloud, is to be vocally colored by such considerations 
as the reader may suppose to have been in the mind of 
the writer in connection with the words penned. Take, 


for example, this apparently dry and unemotional sen- 
tence with which Macaulay introduces his History of 

I purpose to write the history of England from the accession of 
King James the Second down to a time which is within the memory of 
men still living. 

We can mentally add many considerations showing 
the interest and enthusiasm of the great historian in 
his work, the pleasure which he has had in collecting 
his material, and the satisfaction he feels in being able 
now to present it to the public. All these considera- 
tions, doubtless, are implied in the words. We can- 
not wholly separate the result from the processes that 
produced it, or from the emotional states which accom- 
panied those processes. 

The same would be much more strikingly true in the 
introduction to such stories and descriptions as are pri- 
marily designed to give pleasure in the communication. 
The author is to be thought of as conversationally and 
agreeably conveying to you many side-remarks, which 
would reveal this attitude of affability, of approachable, 
friendly intercourse. We often speak of " reading be- 
tween the lines"; and the phrase indicates a real 
thing. It might be extended to "reading between the 
words." All such interlineations, when designed to in- 
terpret the emotional attitude of the writer or speaker, 
constitute a legitimate emotional paraphrase. Dickens 
has many passages which are to be so treated mentally; 
so has Irving; so have most of the writers of fiction. 


We not only rob ourselves of much possible comfort 
and pleasure in the reading, but, doubtless, rob the 
writings of much of their intended significance, when 
we receive them coldly, or without any mental measure- 
ment of the emotions that prompted and accompanied 

In the following paragraph from Dickens' " A Child's 
Dream of a Star" interpolate the emotional matter 
that seems to you to be naturally implied: 

There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and 
thought of a number of things. He had a sister who was a child, too, 
and his constant companion. They wondered at the beauty of the 
flowers; they wondered at the height and blueness of the sky; they 
wondered at the depth of the water ; they wondered at the goodness 
and power of God, who made them lovely. 

Also in this, from a chapter of "The Newcomes,"" 
by Thackeray: 

If we are to narrate the youthful history not only of the hero of this 
tale, but of the hero's father, we shall never have done with nursery 
biography. The gentleman's grandmother may delight in fond re- 
capitulation of her darling's boyish frolics and early genius, but shall 
we weary our kind readers by this infantile prattle, and set down the 
revered British public for an old woman? 

Do the same in this extract from a letter by Charles 

Kingsley * 

Here I am, in a humble cottage in the corner of a sunny green. A 
little garden, whose flower beds are surrounded with tall and aged box, 
is fenced in from the path with a low white paling. The green is gay 
with dogs, and pigs, and geese ; some running frolic races, and others 
swimming in triumph in a glassy pond, where they are safe from all in- 

*See Charles Kingsley, his Letters and Memories of his Life, edited 
by his wife. Chas. Scribner's Sons, New York. 


truders. Every object around is either picturesque or happy, fulfilling 
in their different natures the end of their creation. . . . Surely, it must 
have been the special providence of God that directed us to this place! 
and the thought of this brightens every trial. There is independence 
in every good sense of the word, and yet no loneliness. The family at 
the Brewery are devoted to Charles, and think they cannot do enough 
for him. The dear old man says he has been praying for years for 
such a time to come, and that Eversley has not been so blessed for 
sixty years. Need I say, Rejoice with me? Here I sit surrounded by 
your books and little things which speak of you. 




THIS class includes emotions roused by the contem- 
plation of what is noble, grand, sublime, deeply serious, 
and earnest. This is not abnormal, but supernormal. 
It involves an expansion, an elevation, a broadening 
and intensifying of emotions that are natural and 
wholesome. Its physical or bodily expression is an 
expansion and a fuller activity throughout the 
frame. The attitude will most naturally be that of 
animation, the entire body sympathizing with, and help- 
ing to produce, the sense of breadth, elevation and 

Examples. — Aspire to a worthy ambition. 

Let the torrents, like a shout of nations, answer, God ! 

It may sometimes be accompanied by repose in the 
bearing; but in this case the feeling is more passive, as 
when the sense of grandeur or sublimity is experienced 
in view of something wholly separate from the speaker's 
personal activity, — and yet not viewed as oppressing 
by its imposing grandeur, but rather as simply filling 
the receiving soul; as, 

These are thy works, Parent of good. 

In such emotions there is a stronger subjective ele- 
ment: — that is, the speaker is conscious — or upon in- 


trospection may become conscious — of his soul as being 
filled and moved by the sense of nobility. 

It is natural that such emotions should express 
themselves through a vocal action which perceptibly 
fills and thrills the entire extent of the air chambers, 
and, sympathetically, the entire frame, with deep, vol- 
uminous, yet agreeable vibrations. Such is the char- 
acter of the expanded pure tone, commonly 
called " orotund." This is deeper and fuller than the 
simple pure tone. The lower chest-vibration is a 
specially noticeable feature in it, giving a strong sense 
of heartiness, depth, earnestness, fullness of experience. 

Such vocal action constitutes, perhaps, the loftiest 
expression of which man is capable. It may, indeed, 
be affected, but it then becomes cheap and disgusting. 
When it is the open channel for great thoughts and 
worthy feelings, it is noble indeed. Technical study 
and practice can only prepare the way for natural, un- 
affected use of this quality. 

Begin practice with the simple pure tone, based upon 
the singing quality, which has the most normal action 
of all the parts; then gradually acquire a deeper and 
fuller vibration, taking great care that the tone be not 
merely louder, and that it never become harsh. Let 
the poise and the muscular and nervous conditions of 
the whole body always agree perfectly with the quality 
of the tone. Let these induce the tone. Do not im- 
agine that these expressive qualities of voice can be 
mechanically produced, or that they can be manufac- 


tured independently of the general mental and physical 
conditions. First secure these broader conditions; cul- 
tivate a tone-vibration that can be clearly/^//, especially 
in the head, face, and chest. The best vowels with 
which to begin are 00, oh, and ah. Start these lightly, 
and with perfectly quiet air column; very gradually in- 
crease the volume, being careful not to emit extra 
breath. Continue this practice until the air chambers 
and the entire frame are perceptibly filled with the vi- 
bration. Test the purity of the tone by holding a 
lighted match before the mouth: the simple vowels, 
uttered with the greatest fullness, should not flare the 
flame. Now take such passages as the following from 
Byron's " Apostrophe to the Ocean": 

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll! 

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, unknelled, uncoffined, 

and unknown. 

Thou glorious mirror, where th' 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, alone- 


Or Ossian's address to the sun, beginning: 

O Thou that rollest above ; round as the shield |of my 'fathers ; 
whence are thy beams, O Sun ; thine everlasting light? 

Take also the last part of "The Building of the Ship," 
by Longfellow: 

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

Fear not each sudden sound and shock ; 

'Tis of the wave, and not the rock ; 

'Tis but the flapping of the sail, 

And not a rent made by the gale ! 

In spite of rock and tempest's roar, 

In spite of false lights on the shore, 

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea! 

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee : 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 

Are all with thee, — are all with thee ! 

Or this enthusiastic though exaggerated admiration 
of noble manhood: 

See what a grace was seated on this brow ; 
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; 
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command ; 
A station like the herald Mercury 
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ; 


A combination and a form indeed, 
Where every god did seem to set his seal, 
To give the world assurance of a man. 

— Ham. III., 4. 

Or these passages of sacred sublimity: 

Rejoice in the Lord, O ye righteous : for praise is comely for the 

Praise the Lord with harp : sing unto him with the psaltery and an 
instrument of ten strings. 

Sing unto him a new song ; play skilfully with a loud noise. 

For the word of the Lord is right; and all his works are done in 

He loveth righteousness and judgment: the earth is full of the good- 
ness of the Lord. — Ps.xxxiii. 1-5. 

Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised in the city of our God, 
in the mountain of his holiness. ^ 

Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is mount Zion, 
on the sides of the north, the city of the great King. — Ps. xlviii. 
1, 2. 

Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be 
made low : and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough 
places plain : 

And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it 
together: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. — Isa. xl. 4, 5. 

Many passages of an oratorical nature will be found 
favorable for the cultivation of this type of emotional 

If the true spark of religious and civil liberty be kindled, it will 
burn. Human agency cannot extinguish it. Like the earth's central 
fire, it maybe smothered for a time; the ocean may overwhelm it; 
mountains may press it down ; but its inherent and unconquerable force 
will heave both the ocean and the land, and at some time or other, in 
some place or other, the volcano will break out and flame up to heaven. 
— Webster. 

We stand to-day among the four great powers of the earth, sur- 


passed by none in the extent of our resources, equalled by none in the 
intelligence of our people. It must be that the United States will 
have more and more power in moulding the public opinion of the 
world, and that our example and practice will have a growing influ- 
ence upon other nations. Therefore every effort to elevate and purify 
American political or social life, to keep the stream of democracy flow- 
ing clear and unobstructed, to make government of the people work 
more successfully, is also an effort to promote the concord of nations 
and to hasten the coming peace. — Josiah Quincy. 

Echoing arches of this renowned hall, whisper back the voices of 
other days ! Glorious Washington, break the long silence of that 
votive canvas ! Speak, speak, marble lips ; teach us the LOVE OF 


Memorize a few such passages for daily practice. 

Paraphrase for Enlarged or Deepened 
Feeling*. — Mental amplifications may here be made, 
tending to enhance the reader's conception of the ele- 
ments of nobility, depth, grandeur, sublimity — all full- 
ness of feeling. This may be done: 

1. Objectively, by showing added considerations, 
facts, arguments, or circumstances that may cause the 
mind longer to dwell upon, and more fully to receive, 
the emotional significance. 

2. Subjectively, by the addition of exclamatory or 
other emotional elements in the phraseology, which 
shall expand the expression. 

Literature is full of passages in which such expansion 
actually is made in words. We will notice, first, some 
of these cases, and then others in which the expansion 
is only implied. Of the first, or verbally expanded, 
take the following examples as illustrating (1) above; 


that is, the objective amplification, by expansion; yet 
giving the emotional significance. This passage shows 
Antony's estimation of Brutus: 

This was the noblest Roman of them all ; 

All the conspirators, save only he, 

Did that they did in envy of great Caesar ; 

He only, in a general honest thought 

And common good to all, made one of them. 

His life was gentle ; and the elements 

So mixed in him, that nature might stand up 

And say to all the world, " This was a man." 

— Jul. Cces. V., 5. 

For (2) or subjective expansion, study this exclam- 
atory passage from the " Hymn to Mont Blanc": 

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

— Coleridge. 

And this expression of deep admiration: 

O, what a noble mind is here o'er thrown ! 

The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's eye, tongue, sword ; 

The expectancy and rose of the fair state, 

The glass of fashion and the mold of form, 

Th' observed of all observers, quite, quite down ! 

— Ham. III., 1. 

In the following, expand the condensed expressions, 
giving the objective emotionality, or the more fully con- 
sidered circumstances and reasons leading to fuller 
measurement of the feeling: 

Speak, marble lips ! Teach us the love of liberty protected by law! 
Rest in peace, Great Columbus of the heavens ! 


Glorious England ! 

The Union cannot be dissolved. 

Here will be their greatest triumph. 

Who shall put asunder the best affections of the heart? 

We loved the land of our adoption ! 

Make a more subjective expansion of such passages 
as these: 

Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ! 

Aspire to a worthy ambition. 

Hon- precious are thy thoughts unto me ! 

A good name is better than precious ointment. 

Gird up thy loins now, like a man. 

Comfort ye my people. 

O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mount- 

Liberty and Union, now and forever ; one and inseparable ! 

He is as honest a man as ever breathed. 

Search creation round, where will you find a country that presents 
so sublime a spectacle, so interesting an anticipation ? 
It may be that only in heaven 
I shall hear that grand "a;;z^«." 




THIS may arise in four principal ways: 

1. From the impulse to impart a feeling of hush, 
quiet, tenderness, solemnity; as, 

And the cares that infest the day, 
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, 
And as silently steal away. 

— Longfellow . 

The Lord is in his holy temple ; let all the earth keep silence before 

2. From mere exhaustion or weariness; as, 

Now lay me down, and, Floy, come close to me, and let me see you. 

— Death of Paul, in Dombey and Son. 

3. From the impulse to impart a feeling of secrecy 
or fear; as, 

Hush, and be mute, or else our spell is marred. 

— The Tempest IV. , /. 

4. Overpowering intensity, yet not driven in upon 
itself, but seeking to vent itself; as, 

Thou despicable, sneaking wretch! 
Cursed be my tribe if I forgive him ! 

It is obvious that (1) and (2) are scarcely abnormal, 
while (3) and (4) are wholly so. 

Correspondingly, the former will not be specially 
tiresome, either to the listener or to the speaker; but 
the latter are unnatural and exhausting, as are the emo- 


tions which they portray. The first and second types 
will be accompanied by repose of bearing", the 

second sometimes being exaggerated into lassitude, 
every portion of the frame being perfectly relaxed. 
The third will incline to animation ; the fourth to 

The vocal symbol of Suppressed Feeling is the As- 
pirated Quality. It results from mingling with 
the tone unvocalized breath. The suppression of 
natural vocality corresponds to the suppression of nor- 
mal communication. 

It is evident that the kinds of aspiration fitting these 
different types of suppression will differ very much. 

(1) Will symbolize itself in a soft, subdued tone,, 
but little removed from the pure type, lacking only the 
animation and buoyancy of normal openness. 

(2) Will have a thin and empty tone, due to the 
exhausted physical condition — the breathlessness of 

(3) Will call for a perceptible aspiration, approach- 
ing a whisper. The departure from the normal quality 
will be as marked as the difference between free and 
constrained or stealthy communication. 

(4) Will express itself through a forced, whistlings 
sound, almost a hiss, typifying the combination of con- 
straint and intensity. 

In practicing this quality one must be careful to give 
the right bodily or pantomimic expression, and not 
overdo the vocal expression. 


Paraphrase for Suppressed Feeling*. 

How like a fawning publican he looks ! 

I hale him for he is a Christian ; 

But more, for that in low simplicity 

He lends out money gratis, and brings down 

The rate of usance here with us in Venice. 

If I can catch him once upon the hip, 

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. 

He hates our sacred nation ; and he rails, 

Even there where merchants most do congregate, 

On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, 

Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, 

If I forgive him ! 

— Mer. Ven. I., j. 

This is an evident case of emotional amplification by 
the author himself; and, as Shylock stands aside, thus 
soliloquizing, we see how his own mind makes the ex- 
pansive paraphrase upon the single word "hate." This 
expansion is both objective and subjective, in the sense 
in which- we have used the terms here; that is, it both 
gives additional reasons, and intensifies itself by repeti- 
tions and exclamatory phrases. It gives the suppres- 
sion of intensity. Other examples from the same 
source may be found in the Fourth Act, as when Shy- 
Jock says: 

Hates any man the thing he would not kill? 

To cut the forfeiture from off that bankrupt there. 

The suppression arising from faintness, weariness, 
or despair, appears in the same character later in this 
scene, when he says: 


Shall I not have barely my principal? 

. . . Why then, the Devil give him good of it ! 

I'll stay no longer question. . . . Nay, 

Take my life and all ; pardon not that : 

You take my house, when you do take the prop 

That doth sustain my house; you take my life, 

When you do take the means whereby I live. , . . 

I pray you, give me leave to go from hence ; 

I am not well: send the deed after me, 

And I will sign it. — Mer. Ven. IV. , 7. 

A more agreeable case of the suppression of quiet- 
ness, worship, silence, is contained in this stanza from 
"The Lost Chord," by Miss Proctor: 

It linked all perplexed meanings 
Into one perfect peace, 
And trembled away into silence 
As if it were loth to cease. 

The hush of fear or superstition is well portrayed in 
the following extract from Hamlet, Act L, Scene 1. 

Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again ! 

Ber. In the same figure, like the King that's dead. 

Mar. Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. 

Ber. Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio. 

Hor, Most like : it harrows me with fear and wonder. 

Ber. It would be spoke to. 

Mar. Question it, Horatio. 

Hor. What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, 
Together with that fair and warlike form 
In which the Majesty of buried Denmark 
Did sometimes march? by Heaven I charge thee, speak ! 

Mar. It is offended. 

Ber. See, it stalks away ! 

Hor. Stay ! speak, speak ! I charge thee, speak ! 

[ Exit Ghost. 


Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer. 

Ber, How now, Horatio ! you tremble and look pale r 
Is not this something more than fantasy? 
What think you on't? 

Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe 
Without the sensible and true avouch 
Of mine own eyes. 

Mar % Is it not like the King? 

Hor. As thou art to thyself : 
Such was the very armour he had on 
When he th' ambitious Norway combated; 
So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, 
He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. 
'Tis strange. 

Mar. Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, 
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. 

Hor. In what particular thought to work I know not ; 
But, in the gross and scope of my opinion, 
This bodes some strange eruption to our state. 

In all the above, amplify or expand by added ex- 
planations and considerations; also by exclamatory 
and other emotional words interjected. 

Expand and paraphrase to show the emotion of sup- 
pressed feeling such expressions and passages as the 

Listen ! what is that ? 

Methinks I see him now. 

Do you hear anything ? 

With him this the end of earth. 

And in the hush that followed prayer. 

'Tis the soft twilight. 

O, let me stop here, I'm too tired to go any farther- 


Find and make similar examples suggesting suppressed 
feeling, and paraphrase them so as to bring out more 
fully the sense of hush, intensity, weariness, secrecy, 
fear, and the like. 




THIS class of feeling includes anger, petulance, 
cruelty, disgust, irritation, etc., which are clearly abnor- 
mal, the sensibilities being in a disturbed, rasped 

" Harsh Feeling" here, like " antagonism" in pan- 
tomic expression, measures extreme effects. Practi- 
cally, the more moderate forms of it, as independence, 
self-reliance, self-vindication, reproof, authoritative 
sternness, or severity, are more common and useful in 
all ordinary forms of conversation and oratory. There 
are many situations in actual life calling for such forms 
of firmness or severity. These uses will, however, be 
broadly distinguished from the harshness of persona- 
tion, often used in delineating fictitious characters, and 
from that of the more extreme types. The affected 
gutturality of certain styles of impersonation, and of a 
large class of " elocutionary " renderings, has little to 
do with rational interpretation. Neither this type of 
feeling nor its vocal exponent is to be made a matter of 
"costume," or a professional trick. 

It will be vocally symbolized by a quality of tone 
which is produced by the admixture of harsh, grating 
noises made directly by the contraction of the pharyn- 


geal muscles, and indirectly induced by a somewhat 
tense and knotted condition of the muscles and nerves 
of the entire body. This general, or pantomimic 
condition must precede and produce the vocal 
condition described. The voice is thus relieved from a 
great part of the strain which would be necessary if the 
vocal organs alone were to assume the abnormal condi- 
tion indicated. The bearing, and the muscular texture 
of the whole frame will, at the same time, be more ex- 
pressive than the harsh vocal quality alone; these pan- 
tomimic conditions will largely take the place of vocal 

The throat and neck muscles are delicate and ex- 
tremely sensitive; they must not be violently con- 
torted in any case, not even in the utmost violence of 
emotion. If, however, the attitude and the general 
bodily conditions express disturbance, which is the es- 
sence of this species of emotion, the vocal organs will 
then sufficiently sympathize, and will produce enough 
of the rasping sound to typify the abnormal condition 
of the mind. This will ordinarily be enough to allow 
the general sense of rigidity to momentarily take pos- 
session of the voice. This condition is a perversion of 
the normal state. It represents antagonism, self-conflict; 
the absence of harmonious and agreeable conditions. 
Analogously, the tone that represents this mental atti- 
tude is produced by a perversion of the natural action^ 
— the rigid, disturbed condition of the muscles opposing 
somewhat the natural vibration of the vocal organs. 


The term "guttural" is the common technical name of 
this vocal quality. The word itself, however, is some- 
what too narrow, and perhaps misleading, as it points 
simply to the throat, which is not the only agent in 
producing this, nor the only seat of the effect. A more 
accurate and a safer term might be The Rigid or 
Tense voice. 

The bodily attitude inducing and accompanying 
this tone will often be that of antagonism, modified 
by some unbalanced position. The poise of the body 
will often be disturbed, sometimes momentarily des- 
stroyed, thus pantomimically typifying the lack of har- 
mony in feeling and in tone. 

Examples of this quality in rather extreme degrees 
are such as the following: 

Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, 
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance 
Thy miscreated front athwart my way 
To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass, 
That be assur'd. without leave asked of thee. 
Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, 
Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of heav'n. 

—Paradise Lost, Bk. II. IL 681-687. 

As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd 
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen 
Drop on you both! A southwest blow on ye, 
And blister you all o'er ! 

— The Tempest 1,2. 

Examples. — Find and practice numerous illustra- 
tions, using great care not to irritate the throat too 
much. If the practice is attended or followed by any 


pain, irritation, or excessive dryness of the throat, there 
has been too much contraction of the neck muscles. 
The needful contraction for this distortion of the tone 
may be made in the pharynx, that is, the back of the 
mouth and upper part of the throat. It need not be 
so low as the larynx, and there need not be any severe 
strain. This rigid or tense quality is simply the normal, 
or pure, tone under the influence of the rigid or con- 
torted condition of the whole frame. When so pro- 
duced, it will be found to be both safe, physically, and 
effective, expressionally. The exaggeration of it pro- 
duces at the same time an abuse of the vocal organs 
and an abuse of the sentiment. The following poetic 
passages are recommended for practice of this " tense" 
quality in its more exaggerated forms: 

Much of the Shylock part in Mer. Ven. IV., 1. 

Parts of Book II. in Paradise Lost. 

For a more moderate type, suited to oratory, take 
such passages as these: 

You have heard this pompous performance. Now where is the rev- 
enue which is to do all these mighty things ? Five-sixths repealed — 
abandoned — sunk — gone — lost forever. Does the poor solitary tea 
duty support the purposes of this preamble ? Is not the supply there 
stated as effectually abandoned as if the tea duty had perished in the 
general wreck ? Here, Mr. Speaker, is a precious mockery — a pream- 
ble without an act — taxes granted in order to be repealed — and the 
reasons of the grant still carefully kept up ! This is raising a revenue 
in America ! This is preserving dignity in England ! If you repeal 
this tax in compliance with the motion, I readily admit that you lose 
this fair preamble. Estimate your loss in it. The object of the act is 
gone already; and all you suffer is the purging the statute-book ot the 
opprobrium of an empty, absurd, and false recital. — Burke. 


Ye stiffnecked and uncircumcised in heart and ears, ye do always re- 
sist the Holy Ghost: as your fathers did, so do ye. Which of the 
prophets did not your fathers persecute? and they killed them which 
shewed before of the coming of the Righteous One ; of whom ye have 
now become betrayers and murderers; ye who received the law as it 
was ordained by angels, and kept it not. — Acts vii. 51-53. 

In paraphrasing" to express this emotion, re- 
marks may be interjected to show the occasion and the 
circumstances; and to give some hint as to how the 
speaker would naturally feel, and the reasons for it. 
This will constitute the more objective paraphrase; but 
we shall more often have the subjective form, employ- 
ing figurative, exclamatory, and intensifying clauses, 
phrases, and words. It is always to be borne in mind 
that the paraphrase is for the speaker's or reader's per- 
sonal use, and is not an emendation of the text. In 
these abnormal forms of emotion, written expansions 
would generally be more offensive than in the normal 
forms. For a similar reason the harsher forms of utter- 
ance tend more to exclamatory and otherwise elliptical 
expression; in proportion, they are more closely 
packed with emotional significance. The fuller mental 
statement which it is the business of the paraphrase to 
secure, is the measurement of the words that are im- 

In the following extract from the " Christmas Carol,"' 
by Dickens, observe that Scrooge's remarks are in al- 
most every case mere exclamations. The long speech 
beginning, "What else can I be?" affords a good ex- 
ample of that amplification which we have called ob- 


jective; namely, that which states reasons, considera- 
tions, and arguments justifying the shorter emotional 
utterances. Here we have clone for us, by the novelist, 
that which we must often do for ourselves. It requires 
no strain of imagination to expand still further the ex- 
pressions "bah!" and " humbug!" Note also the rep- 
etition: this is almost always an element in emotional 
expansion. It is not tautology, but figurative repeti- 

" A Merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!" cried a cheerful 
voice. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so 
quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. 

" Bah ! " said Scrooge, " Humbug! " 

He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, 
this nephew of Scrooge's, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy 
and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again. 

"Christmas a humbug, uncle!" said Scrooge's nephew. "You 
don't mean that, I am sure." 

"I do," said Scrooge. "Merry Christmas! What right have you 
to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor 

"Come then," returned the nephew gaily, "What right have you 
to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich 

Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, 
said, " Bah ! " again ; and followed it up with " Humbug! " 

"Don't be cross, uncle! " said the nephew. 

"What else can I be," returned the uncle, "when I live in such a 
world of fools as this ? Merry Christmas ! Out upon Merry Christ- 
mas! W 7 hat's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills with- 
out money ; a time for finding yourself a year older, and not an hour 
richer ; a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em 
through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I 
could work my will," said Scrooge indignantly, "every idiot who goes 


about with ' Merry Christmas ' on his lips, should be boiled with 
his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his 
heart. He should ! " 

" Uncle ! " pleaded the nephew. 

"Nephew! " returned the uncle sternly, " keep Christmas in your 
own way, and let me keep it in mine." 

"Keep it!" repeated Scrooge's nephew. "But you don't keep 

" Let me leave it alone, then," said Scrooge. " Much good may it 
do you ! Much good it has ever done you ! " 

"There are many things from which I might have derived good, by 
which I have not profited, I dare say," returned the nephew, " Christ- 
mas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christ- 
mas time, when it has come round — apart from the veneration due to its 
sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from 
that — as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time ; the 
only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and 
women seem by one consent to open their shut- up hearts freely, and to 
think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to 
the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. 
And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver 
in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me 
good; and I say, God bless it ! " . 

"You're quite a powerful speaker, sir," said Scrooge. " I wonder 
you don't go into parliament." 

" Don't be angry, uncle. Come ! Dine with us to-morrow." 

Scrooge said he would see him — yes, indeed he did. He went the 
whole length of the expression, and said he would see him in that ex- 
tremity first. 

" But why? " cried Scrooge's nephew. " Why ? " 

"Why did you get married? " said Scrooge. 

" Because I fell in love." 

" Because you fell in love! " growled Scrooge, as if that were the 
only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. 
"Good afternoon ! " 

"Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. 
Why give it as a reason for not coming now? " 


" Good afternoon," said Scrooge. 

M I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we 
be friends? " 

" Good afternoon," said Scrooge. 

" I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have 
never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party. But I have 
made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas 
humor to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle ! " 

" Good afternoon ! " said Scrooge. 

" And A Happy New Year ! " 

11 Good afternoon," said Scrooge. 

The following extract well illustrates emotional 
utterances, some of which are already abundantly am- 
plified in the text; others may be amplified still more 
by subjective paraphrase. These latter occur especially 
in the short, interjected remarks of Queen Margaret. 
This element culminates in the single words constitu- 
ting, at one point, the whole speech of Gloucester and 
Queen Margaret respectively; but evidently implying 
and conveying very many words, epithets, allusions, 
whole chapters of history, and torrents of invective. 

Note the expansions and condensations: 

Q. Eliz. My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne 
Your blunt upbraidings, and your bitter scoffs : 
By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty 
Of those gross taunts that oft I have endur'd. 
I had rather be a country servant-maid, 
Than a great queen, with this condition, — 
To be thus taunted, scorn 'd and baited at : 

Enter Queen Margaret, behind. 

Small joy have I in being England's queen. 

Q. Mar. And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech him ! — 


Thy honour, state and seat is due to me. 

Glou. What ! threat you me with telling of the king ? 
Tell him, and spare not : look, what I have said 
I will avouch in presence of the king : 
I dare adventure to be sent to the tower. 
'Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot. 

Q. Mar. Out, devil ! I remember them too well : 
Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower. 
And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. 

Glou. Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband king, 
I was a pack-horse in his great affairs ; 
A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, 
A liberal rewarder of his friends : 
To royalize his blood I spilt my own. 

Q. Mar. Ay, and much better blood than his or thine. 

Glou. In all which time you and your husband Grey 
Were factious for the house of Lancaster; 
And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband 
In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain? 
Let me put in your minds, if you forget, 
What you have been ere now, and what you are ; 
Withal, what I have been, and what I am. 
Q. Mar. A murderous villain, and so still thou art. 

Glou. Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick ; 
Ay, and forswore himself, — which Jesu pardon ! — 

Q. Mar. Which God revenge ! 

Glou. To fight on Edward's party, for the crown ; 
And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up. 
I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's ; 
Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine: 
I am too childish-foolish for this world. 

Q. Mar. Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave this world, 
Thou cacodemon ! there thy kingdom is. 

Riv. My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days, 
Which here you urge to prove us enemies, 
We folio w'd then our lord, our lawful king : 
So should we you, if you should be our king. 


Glou. If I should be ! — I had rather be a pedlar : 
Far be it from my heart, the thought of it ! 

Q. Eliz. As little joy, my lord, as you suppose 
You should enjoy, were you this country's king, 
As little joy may you suppose in me, 
That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. 

Q. Mar, As little joy enjoys the queen thereof; 
For I am she, and altogether joyless. 

I can no longer hold me patient. [Advancing. 

Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out 
In sharing that which you have pill'd from me ! 
Which of you trembles not, that looks on me ? 
If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects, 
Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels! 
O, gentle villain, do not turn away ! 

Glou. Foul, wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? 

Q. Mar, But repetition of what thou hast marr'd; 
That will I make before I let thee go. 

Glou. Wert thou not banished on pain of death? 

Q. Mar. I was ; but I do find more pain in banishment, 
Than death can yield me here by my abode. 
A husband and a son thou ow'st to me ; 
And thou, a kingdom ; all of you, allegiance: 
The sorrow that I have, by right is yours; 
And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. 

Hast. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, 
And the most merciless, that ere was heard of! 

Ri-j. Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. 

Dor. No man but prophesied revenge for it. 

Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. 

Q. Mar. What, were you snarling all before I came, 
Ready to catch each other by the throat, 
And turn you all your hatred now on me ? 
Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven, 
That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, 
Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment, 
Could all but answer for that peevish brat? 


Can curses pierce the clouds, and enter heaven ? 

Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses ! — 

Though not by war, by surfeit die your king, 

As ours by murder, to make him a king ! 

Edward, thy son, which now is Prince of Wales, 

For Edward, my son, which was Prince of Wales, 

Die in his youth by like untimely violence ! 

Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, 

Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! 

Long may'st thou live to wail thy children's loss ; 

And see another, as I see thee now, 

Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine ! 

Long die thy happy days before thy death; 

And, after many lengthen 'd hours of grief, 

Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen ! — 

Rivers, and Dorset, you were standers by, 

And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son 

Was stabbed with bloody daggers: God, I pray him, 

That none of you may live his natural age, 

But by some unlook'd accident cut off! 

Glou. Have done thy charm, thy hateful wither'd hag ! 

Q. Mar. And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear 
If heaven have any grievous plague in store r 

Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, 
O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, 
And then hurl down their indignation 
On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace ! 
The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul ! 
Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st, 
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends ! 
No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, 
Unless it be while some tormenting dream 
Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils ! 
Thou elfish-marked, abortive, rooting hog ! 
Thou that was't seal'd in thy nativity 
The slave of nature, and the son of hell ! 


Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb ! 
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins ! 
Thou rag of honour ! thou detested — 

Glou. Margaret. 

Q. Mar. Richard ! 

Glou. Ha ! 

Q. Mar. I call thee not. 

Glou. I cry thee mercy, then; for I had thought 
That thou hadst called me all these bitter names. 

— Richard the Third I. , 3. 

In the following extract we have a combination of 
the objective and the subjective elements of expansion, 
in the words of Shylock. All that he says is either in 
explanation or else in virtual repetition, of this one 
sentence, "I will have my bond." 

Shylock. Jailer, look to him: tell not me of mercy. — 
This is the fool that let out money gratis. — 
Jailer look to him. 

A?it. Hear me yet, good Shylock. 

Shy. I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond: 
I've sworn an oath that I will have my bond. 
Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause ; 
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs : 
The duke shall grant me justice. — I do wonder, 
Thou naughty jailer, that thou art so fond 
To come abroad with him at his request. 

Ant. I pray thee, hear me speak. 

Shy. I'D have my bond ; I will not hear thee speak: 
I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more. 
I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, 
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield 
To Christian intercessors. Follow not; 
I'll have no speaking : I will have my bond. 

— Mer. Ven. III., 3. 

See how many words of the harsh or severe style 


are implied in this short expression with which Lady 
Macbeth answers her husband. He has just said, "If 
we should fail — "; she answers, "We fail! But screw 
your courage to the sticking-place, and we'll not fail." 
The words carry all this and much more: 

O, you miserable coward! Talk of our failing! What ails you? 
Why are your knees smiting together, you white-livered wretch! 
Come, command yourself, man ! Have a little pluck! I am ashamed 
•of you ! 

In the following examples the words themselves, 
used exclamatorily, are so intense and so plainly sub- 
jective that the best help will be obtained by expand- 
ing them objectively: 

Shame ! 
Beast ! 
Villain ! 

Fit them into situations real or imagined, and ex- 
pand the expressions both objectively and subjectively; 
that is, both by indicating the circumstances calling for 
the emotional expression; and by repeated intensifying 
or equivalent exclamations. Then take a milder form 
of harshness or severity; as, for instance, that express- 
ing expostulation, with some degree of reproof: 

Are we so low, so base, so despicable that we may not express our 
horror ? — Henry Clay. 

Go home., if you dare ; go home, if you can, to your constituents, 
and tell them that you voted it down ! — Ibid. 

Examples for Study. — Find other cases for 
such paraphrasing in the Court Room Scene in Mer- 


chant of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1 ; in the Closet Scene 
of Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 4; in the words of the Tri- 
bunes in Julius Caesar, Act 1, Scene 1; and in the cries 
of the citizens at the conclusion of Antony's speech, 
Julius Caesar, Act 3, Scene 2. 

In its typical form, this style appears much more 
frequently in dramatic works. In modified forms, harsh- 
ness or severity may be found in oratory and in con- 
versation whenever there is a sense of sternness coupled 
"with something of disturbance. 




THIS represents an intensely subjective condition of 
the emotions. It differs from the " suppression " spoken 
of above, in this respect: That was essentially object- 
ive — the purpose usually was to communicate to some 
one else the sense of suppression, as in secrecy, fear, 
or intensity of feeling; here the emotion is driven in 
upon itself, seeking to hide, rather than to reveal, itself. 

This oppressed feeling is experienced whenever a 
sense of vastness, solemnity, awe, amazement, deep or 
superstitious reverence, dread, terror, and the like, 
causes an impulse to retreat and cover one's self, to shrink 
away, or escape from sight. It is oftener met in solilo- 
quy than in conversation or open address: 

In thoughts from the visions of the night, 

When deep sleep falleth on men, 

Fear came upon me, and trembling, 

Which made all my bones to shake. 

Then a spirit passed before my face; 

The hair of my flesh stood up. — Job iv. 13-15. 

Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! — Ha?n. /., 4. 

O, horrible ! O, horrible! Most horrible ! 

O all you host of Heaven ! O Earth ! what else ? 

And shall I couple hell? O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart; 

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 

But bear me stiffly up. — Ham. I., 5. 


O, my offense is rank, it smells to Heaven ; 
It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't, — 
A brother's murder ! Pray, can I not ; 
Though inclination be as sharp as will, 
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent ; 
And, like a man to double business bound, 
I stand in pause where I shall first begin, 
And both neglect. 

— Ham. III., 3. 

Its most useful applications, however, are not found 
in extreme cases, but in milder forms, in which a 
slight covering of the tone expresses the cloud or vail 
that seems to rest upon the feelings, shutting one, in 
some degree, within himself. 

Some of the milder and more practical forms of this 
emotional state may be specified: 

1. Reverence, as in prayer. 

Example. — O Lord, rebuke me not in thy wrath, neither chasten 
me in thy hot displeasure. 

2. Deep compassion mingled with something of awe. 

Example. — She was dead. Dear, gentle, patient, noble Nell was 

3. Wonder. 

Example. — Believe me, you are marvelously changed. 

4. Introspective meditation. 
Examples. — Ay, there's the rub. 

It must be by his death. 

These milder forms should be studied the most. If 
the student's ear should, at first, fail to discern the 
peculiar quality marking this type of feeling, he may, 
for practice, take the more extreme types first, and 


work upon them until both ear and voice are thoroughly 
familiarized with this quality in its exaggerated form; 
then later, come to these subtler and more useful degrees 
of the same quality. Most students, however, will do 
well to begin with the milder types. For common 
oratorical and conversational effects, all theatrical ex- 
tremes should be scrupulously avoided; the intensity of 
the emotion must never be obtrusive; if it buries it- 
self in the mind of the speaker by such restatement 
and revivifying as should accompany and induce all 
genuine expression, the result will be a fine and un- 
mistakable significance in the quality: and this will 
never announce itself as a physical result, much less as 
a trick, but will always be felt as a manifestation of the 
condition of the speaker's mind and thought. 

The whole bodily attitude and action must agree 
with, and help to produce, this tone, else it will be 
superficial and affected. The attitude will generally be 
some degree of recoil, the muscles being greatly re- 
laxed in the more passive forms, as reverence, compas- 
sion; and more tense in the active forms, as terror, hor- 

The kind of voice that pictures this mental condi- 
tion is termed the Pectoral Quality. It is charac- 
terized by deep vibrations that are largely held within 
the chest, instead of being fully communicated to the 
outer air, as in the case of the other qualities. In its 
extreme degrees it becomes a half-smothered shudder 
within the chest, the tone coming "ab imo pectore;'* 


hence the name. It might well be called the oppressed 
or shuddering quality. 

Paraphrase for Oppressed, or Covered* 
Feeling*. — Here the expression is still more elliptical, 
and must, proportionately, be expanded the more in the 
mental amplification. Take this one line from Hamlet:. 

O, horrible ! O, horrible ! Most horrible ! 

— Hani. I, 5. 

In this we have, by implication, the entire scene, 
including the whole story which Hamlet hears from his. 
father's spirit. In reading this one line the mind will 
naturally run over all the preceding, at least, and per- 
haps much of the following, matter. 

A vaunt ! and quit my sight ! let the earth hide thee ! 

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; 

Thou hast no speculation in those eyes 

Which thou dost glare with. — Macbeth III., 4. 

Here Ave may imagine the terrified Macbeth as utter- 
ing, in addition to the exclamatory and repetitious 
words of the text, still other ejaculations and expan- 
sions; as, 

Hideous, pursuing enemy, shall I never be rid of thee? Wilt thou, 
pursue me unrelentingly by day and by night? Can no cover shelter 
me from thee? Thou belongest in the dark underworld. Hie thee 
back to thine abode ! Why comest thou to me here? Why present 
thy grinning face, thy chill and bloodless hand? Why gleam upon me 
with those piercing eyes? 

In such cases there is no definite limit to what one 
may think, or state to himself, as a means of enabling 
him more fully to realize the emotional words that are 


uttered. Full acquaintance with the circumstances and 
the characters, together with a vivid imagination and 
sympathy, will be the requisites for full utterance. 

Mild forms of this emotion appear in the Sacred 

It stood still, but I could not discern the appearance thereof; a 
form was before mine eyes : there was silence, and I heard a voice, 
saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God? Shall a man be 
more pure than his Maker? — Job iv. 16-17. 

And men shall go into the caves of the rocks, and into the holes of 
the earth, from before the terror of the Lord, and from the glory of his 
majesty, when he ariseth to shake mightily the earth. — Isa. ii. 19. 

And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. 
And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent 
the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord ; but the 
Lord was not in the wind : and after the wind an earthquake ; but the 
Lord was not in the earthquake : and after the earthquake a fire ; but 
the Lord was not in the fire : and after the fire a still, small voice. 
And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his 
mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, 
behold, there came a voice unto him, and said, What doest thou here 
Elijah? — 1 Kings xix. 11-13. 

It will be easy to add such comments and reflections 
as shall make the mental expansion that is necessary to 
convey the emotion contained in these passages. 

Good examples are the following scenes in Hamlet: 
Act 5, Scene i (considerable parts); Act 1, Scene 4; 
Act 3, Scene I, some parts of the soliloquy beginning, 
"To be or not to be"; Act 3, Scene 3, the usurping 
king's attempted prayer. 




EMOTION of this class, also, may be deep, but it 
lacks the impulse to cover itself. It is more self- 
revealing and communicative. The feeling is such as 
to shake the soul. There is a quivering and trembling 
of the sensibilities. It is found in two main types 
which are seemingly opposite: 

1. Merriment, laughter, glee; as, 

You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear ; 
To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year; 
Of all the glad New-year, mother, the maddest merriest day; 
For I 'm to be Queen o' the May, mother ; I'm to be Queen o' the May. 

— Tennyson, 

2. Pity, grief, tenderness, compassion; as in the fol- 

I have been wild and wayward, but you'll forgive me now ; 

You'll kiss me, my own mother, and forgive me ere I go ; 

Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild, 

You should not fret for me, mother, you have another child. 

And now farewell ! 'Tis hard to give thee up, 
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee ! 
And thy dark sin ! 0,1 could drink the cup, 
If from this woe its bitterness had won thee, 
May God have called thee like a wanderer, home, 
My lost boy, Absalom ! 

— M P. Willis. 

In either case the element of agitation does not re- 


side simply in the utterance; it is a property of the 
thought, or, more strictly, it is an attitude of the 
speaker's mind. It must be mentally measured ante- 
cedent to any consideration of how it shall be ex- 
pressed. The question is, in the interpretation of any 
given passage: Is the feeling such as to occasion this 
agitated or trembling condition? If so, we have justifica- 
tion for the use of its specific representative, which is the 
Tremulous Quality. This consists in the shaking, 
wavering, or interrupted action of the voice. It is a 
sensitive and refined tremulousness, the true vibrato y 
not a mechanical " tremolo." This cannot be produced 
mechanically; it is vital that the whole frame par- 
ticipate in the thrill and quiver of the emotion; the 
tone will then reflect delicately and expressively the 
sentiment of the mind. The bodily attitude may be 
that of animation or of recoil, possibly that of explo- 
sion: whatever it be, face, hands, shoulders, and chest 
— in short, the whole frame — must first indicate the 
feeling and induce this sympathetic condition of the 

Paraphrase for Agitated Feeling. — As in 
other cases we may here employ both objective and 
subjective expansion. 

This type of feeling, as we have seen, may be caused 
either by exuberant joy, or by deep grief. This emo- 
tion will tend, usually, to express itself more fully in 
words. It will be less elliptical than some of the pre- 
ceding forms; hence there will be less occasion, usually, 


for making a paraphrase to reveal the feeling; yet it 
will often need to be done. 

Observe, first, a few cases in which the amplification 
has been made by the writer. 

Listen to Jaques, here grown quite gay: you can 
almost hear the chuckle of his voice as he utters these 
words : 

Jaques. A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, 
A motley fool ! — a miserable world ! — 
As I do live by food, I met a fool, 
Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, 
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, 
In good set terms, and yet a motley fool. 
" Good morrow, fool," quoth I. "No, sir," quoth he, 
" Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune." 
And then he drew a dial from his poke, 
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, 
Says very wisely, " It is ten o'clock : 
Thus we may see," quoth he, " How the world wags : 
J Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, 
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; 
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, 
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; 
And thereby hangs a tale." When I did hear 
The motley fool thus moral on the time, 
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, 
That fools should be so deep-contemplative, 
And I did laugh sans intermission 
An hour by his dial. — O noble fool ! 
A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. 

Duke S. What fool is this? 

Jaq. O worthy fool ! One that hath been a courtier, 
And says, if ladies be but young and fair, 
They have the gift to know it ; and in his brain, 
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit 


After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd 
With observation, the which he vents 
In mangled forms. — O that I were a fool ! 
I am ambitious for a motley coat. 

— As You Like It II, 7. 

Now in this passage it is quite evident that most of 
the words are simply Jaques' expansive paraphrase 
upon the one key-word, "fool." 

Many songs, and especially refrains of songs, contain 
this element. A musical setting only expands the 
mirthful or tender element, which in reading gives oc- 
casion for this tremulous quality. This accounts, also, 
for the many repetitions of emotional expressions con- 
tained in songs. When read, these repetitions some- 
times become tiresome; but their combined effect, as 
grasped by the memory and imagination of the reader, 
may well be incorporated into the few words that are 

In the following song there seem to be two elements 
— tenderness, sadness amounting almost to bitter- 
ness; and a certain hilarity approaching reckless jollity. 
The repetitions in the verses form a sort of expansive 
emotional paraphrase. 

Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
Thou art not so unkind 

As man's ingratitude ; 
Thy tooth is not so keen, 
Because thou art not seen, 
Although thy breath be rude. 
Heigh-ho ! sing, heigh-ho ! unto the green holly ; 
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly : 


Then, heigh-ho, the holly ! 

This life is most jolly ! 
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 
That dost not bite so nigh 

As benefits forgot : 
Though thou the waters warp, 
Thy sting is not so sharp 
As friend remember'd not. 
Heigh-ho ! sing, heigh-ho ! unto the green holly ; 
Most friendship is feigning, most loving merely folly : 
Then, heigh-ho, the holly ! 
This life is most jolly! 

— As You Like It II., y. 

"David's Lament over Absalom" by N. P. Willis, is 
an ingenious emotional expansion of a part of one verse 
in the Bible, 2 Sam. xviii. 33. Upon this as a theme, 
the poet has woven considerations as to the natural 
beauty of the young man; drawing these out into the 
graphic specifications of his "glorious eye," "clustering 
hair," "brow," and words that the young man had 
spoken. Then are added subjective reflections: How 
could'st thou die? I shall miss thee when I meet the 
other young men. Especially in my declining, feeble 
days, thou, my natural support wilt be wanting. How 
can I go down the Dark Valley without thine arm to 
lean upon? O, hard as it is to give thee up, I could 
bear all this, — bear all the pain and loneliness, the 
grief unspeakable — if only I could know thy sin was 
covered and thy soul was safe. 

Such reflections are natural and moderate; they are 
by no means foisted upon the words of the text; they 
are a partial unfolding of the thought contained in 


that verse. What sympathetic heart could fail to read 
in, silently, between the lines, still other tender, thrill- 
ing reflections, in addition to those which the poet has 
suggested ? 

The sacredness of much of the noblest emotion may 
make it seem an obtrusive, unbecoming thing thus to 
write out a paraphrase. The purpose is by no means 
to violate the feelings; quite the reverse. The unfold- 
ing, realizing, and vivifying of the thought, which para- 
phrase is meant to secure, will enable one to give with 
genuine feeling many a passage that would otherwise 
seem cold; perhaps cantish and repulsive. 

For practice, passages may at first be taken which 
can be treated so objectively as to avoid great enlist- 
ment of the reader's personal emotions, and through 
these, as a cold-blooded exercise, the mind may learn 
the process which, applied to deeper, more real, more 
personal, or sacred situations, shall enable one to stir 
lip within his own heart such emotions as will color and 
vitalize the words it is suitable to speak. 

In this way one may acquire a real emotional power 
in utterance, without any offensive exhibition of his 
personal feelings. The emotionality in the utterance 
will be felt more in what is concealed than in what is 
revealed; but there must first be something to conceal; 
and this device of emotional paraphrase will, first of 
all, increase the real emotion, which is personal, and 
which is deeply, though unconsciously, treasured in the 
heart of the speaker. 


The purpose, in this part of the study, is, directly to 
increase the receptive power of the reader. He must 
first receive and experience, before he can really com- 
municate. An effective utterance of emotional pas- 
sages can never be secured by merely vocalizing emo- 
tional words. Such mechanical practice would surely 
result, either in an affected sentimentality, or in a re- 
vulsion and reaction of feeling. When once the reader 
has command of the vocal media for expression, the 
vital thing — embracing nine-tenths of all the labor 
— is to deepen and vivify the impression of the thing 
to be said. In the matter of emotion, particularly, 
this will usually be done in silence; but, if done with 
any effect, there must be some method of procedure; 
and the foregoing hints at emotional paraphrasing are 
intended to suggest the best practical way of accom- 
plishing this purpose. 

Examples. — We may suggest a somewhat wider 
range than the foregoing analysis has indicated. Se- 
lections for the cultivation of this property may be 
those expressing intense merriment, jollity, ridicule 
(when jocose), pity, extreme tenderness, pathos, grief, 
rage, weakness (as of old age or sickness), extreme 
hesitation, fright or self-consciousness. 

In addition to the examples above given many 
others may be found in Hamlet, Macbeth, Merchant of 
Venice, Julius Caesar; in many graphic descriptions, 
occasionally in orations, and not infrequently in natural, 
unconventional conversation. 


Caution in regard to the study of emotion. 

—The student must not suppose that any of these 
emotional qualities may be mechanically produced, as 
stops are drawn on the organ; they must be, in every 
case, the outgrowth of two things: 

1 . The sensitive, sympathetic condition of the mind, 
appreciating and keenly realizing the emotional signifi- 
cance of the passage to be delivered; and, 

2. A thoroughly trained and responsive physical 

Moreover, it is not supposed that these qualities in 
any satisfactory degree can be cultivated by mere 
printed prescription. They all must be heard to be 
appreciated or understood. Yet the hearing of exam- 
ples, however good, without some rational principle of 
interpretation, will result only in imitation, which is of 
all things most disastrous to expression. 

The purpose in giving the above analysis in the order 
in which it is here presented, namely, the mental con- 
dition before the physical means of expression, has 
been to prepare the mind rightly to measure the occa- 
sions for the use of these different qualities, and so to 
facilitate both the spirit of interpretation and the tech- 
nical development; for, as already said, even the tech- 
nique itself develops more rapidly under the guidance 
of an analytic and sympathetic insight. 

There is a tendency in all young readers and speakers 
to overdo these emotional effects. Their value will de- 
pend upon their genuineness and refinement. During the 


process of technical preparation there may sometimes 
be a degree of exaggeration in these tone qualities; 
but as soon as they are applied to the purposes of 
actual expression, they must be employed with pru- 
dence and moderation. They must be mixed, as an old 
painter declared his colors were mixed, "with brains.'* 
It is certain that the emotional properties constitute 
the life-like colors, the "tone," of most word pictures. 
The true reader or speaker will never seek highly im- 
passioned extracts for the mere display of his vocal 
technique; but the faithful interpreter must not fail 
rightly to measure this element, which is so vital in a 
large proportion of spontaneous utterance. 



You now are mounted 
Where powers are your retainers ; and your words, 
Domestics to you, serve your will as't please 
Yourself pronounce their office. 

— Henry the Eighth II. , 4. 

Here we have to do with the will. The expres- 
sional analysis will concern itself with different voli- 
tional conditions or attitudes; all of these will be more 
or less dependent upon preceding or accompanying 
emotional conditions; and these in turn upon the intel- 
lectual measurements of facts, truths, and relations. 
Thus the deliberative and discriminative elements in 
the thoughts will lead to the emotional; the emotional 
will induce the volitional. 

In energy the will of the speaker bears upon the will 
of the listener, the object being to secure a certain atti- 
tude or action of will in the person addressed. 

Subjectively, then, energy as a mood of utterance is 
the speaker's purpose to demand attention, to enforce 
his ideas, and to produce conviction. Objectively, it is 
the property in the utterance which expresses this pur- 

Energy may be: 

1. General, pervading the entire passage or division; 


2. Special, appearing in particular words or phrases. 

In this division of the work we shall study chiefly the 
special applications of energy, though these cannot be 
wholly separated from the general. The subject with 
which we are directly concerned is the action of the 
will in different forms of volition. 

The Energetic Paraphrase. — As in Emotion, 
we may here employ both the objective and the sub- 
jective method: 

1. Stating circumstances, facts, and considerations 
which shall show the reasons for the particular form 
of energy employed; and which will be chiefly object- 
ive ; and, 

2. Interlining and interwording such amplifying 
phrases, clauses, or sentences as shall serve to express 
more fully the degree of intensity and the particular 
form which the energy takes; as abruptness, insist- 
ence, uplift, establishment, or violence. This latter 
will be more subjective in its nature. 

As a rule, it will be better to make the objective first; 
or at least to allow the objective element to lead in 
the paraphrase. This method, which presents promi- 
nently the reasons for the action of the will before 
stimulating the passional element, will tend to ration- 
alize the volition. 

In any case it is understood, of course, that the ex- 
pansion is only mental. Energy requires conciseness 
in verbal expression more than do the other moods; 
but in proportion to the condensation in the phraseol- 


ogy must be the expansion in the thinking and feeling 
which prompt the expression of energy. In other 
words, there is, usually, in energetic expression, an in- 
verse ratio between the words uttered and the thought, 
feeling, and volition which those words express. Some 
cases are found in which the amplification is actually 
made in words. It will then take the form of exclama- 
tion and repetition chiefly; frequently, also, that of fig- 
urative interrogation. For example: 

Flavins. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home ! 
Is this a holiday? What! know you not, 
Being mechanical, you ought not walk 
Upon a labouring-day without the sign 
Of your profession? — Speak, what trade art thou? 

Marullus. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? 
What tributaries follow him to Rome, 
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? 
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! 
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, 
Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft 
Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, 
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, 
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat 
The live-long day, with patient expectation, 
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: 
And, when you saw his chariot but appear, 
Have you not made an universal shout, 
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, 
To hear the replication of your sounds 
Made in her concave shores ? 
And do you now put on your best attire? 
And do you now cull out a holiday? 
And do you now strew flowers in his way 


That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? 
Be gone! 

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, 
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 
That needs must light on this ingratitude. 

— Jul. Cces. I., 1. 

A self-controlled energy would have contented itself 
with many less words than are here employed. The 
irate tribunes allow themselves to think aloud a good 
deal; hence the repetition, the constant interrogation 
(figurative), the added explanations, and the highly 
wrought imaginative language. 

Many strongly energetic passages are in declarative 
or interrogative form. In such cases the most practical 
test of volitionality is to translate into a formal 
imperative. If the real intent of the speaker is to 
move the will, the imperative form will more fully re- 
veal that inner purpose. 

Observe this in the following self-contained but preg- 
nantly energetic expressions of Caesar: 

What touches us ourself shall be last served. 

Caesar did never wrong but with just cause, 
Nor without cause will he be satisfied. 

Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? 

—Jul. Cces. III., 1. 

Any one of these brief expressions might be so ex- 
panded as to show many thoughts back in the mind of 
Caesar, and many movements of his volition, which the 
brief words powerfully imply. To expand his short, 
terse expressions so as to reveal the thoughts that 


prompt them, the feelings that color them, and the vo- 
litional state which intensifies them — this would be to 
make an objective energetic paraphrase upon them. 
Let us attempt it. Take the first expression: "What 
touches us ourself shall be last served." 

Shall the great Csesar, who has sought the interests 
of Rome more than his own; shall he who has carried 
its arms and conquests into Britain and the East, re- 
gardless ever of his personal convenience, comfort, or 
safety — shall he, now, while public business waits him 
at the Senate, stop to consider matters of merely per- 
sonal character? Know that Caesar is not such a 
man. Do not impose such hindrances between me and 
the business waiting for me. Do not annoy me! leave! 

Observe the second utterance: "Caesar did never 
wrong," etc. We might naturally interline some such 
considerations as these: 

Search my record. You will find that no one has 
been ill-treated by me. Understand, I fear not to meet 
all my public acts. I am confident in the sense of 
justice. You can neither intimidate nor soften me 
by any implications of injustice or of tyranny. Know, 
then, that nothing shall content me but sufficient evi- 
dence. The evidence is not at hand. Then cease to 
press me; you can never move me; I bid you with- 

Look a moment at the third: "Doth not Brutus 
bootless kneel?" 

If there be any man in Rome who could move me by 


supplication, it were the noble Brutus; but see, he 
kneels, and I spurn even him as I would an impudent 
child. Think not, then, that any other need approach 

See how the determination expressed in the first of 
these lines by Bryant is expanded in the lines that fol- 

Truth crushed to earth shall rise again, 
The eternal years of God are hers ; 
But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, 
And dies among his worshippers. 

The expansion is here given, first, in the form of a. 
reason: — God is on her side, the Omnipotent One, the 
One determined upon the victory of the right, the One 
whose purposes never change, whom nothing can 
thwart; he shall avouch her cause. And then truth as 
opposed to error is brought out by the contrast in the 
third and fourth lines: 

While truth is thus supported, error, with no moral 
basis, languishes in its torture, and suffers a common 
fate with those who blindly follow it. Our prose par- 
aphrase of the last three lines of the stanza, like those 
lines themselves, forms simply an expansion, or mental 
amplification, of the sense of resistless power and un- 
shaken will, expressed in the first line. 

Abundant examples of such energetic expansion 
may be found in the orations of Demosthenes, in those 
of Cicero, especially against Catiline, and, nearer to 
our own day, in the speeches of Pitt, Burke, Webster,. 


Clay, Sumner, Phillips. Nor are we confined to these 
historic models. Utterances characterized by a digni- 
fied and noble energy are still to be heard, not seldom, 
from the pulpit, the platform, and the political arena. 
Wherever the wills of men are to be moved by the will 
of man, there we find scope for this manliest of powers. 




The generic idea in this type of energy is that of 
arrest. It applies to any kind of utterance that is 
designed to startle, rouse, or incite by giving something 
of shock, of unexpected impact of will upon will. It 
is either the lightest or the most impulsive form of vo- 
litional action. Some varieties are: 

i . Didactic Impulse. 

This is the mere promptness or animation that ac- 
companies forcible explanation, arousing the mind to 
attend to facts or truths presented. In this form we 
have the weakest perceptible action of the will; and 
that which is nearest to mere deliberation. The ab- 
ruptness of mere animation or of didactic utterance is 
naturally associated with normal feeling in the type of 
cheer, or pleasure of communication, and employs, 
therefore, a simple, pure tone. Even in passages 
which are predominantly deliberative or discriminative 
there may yet be a proportion of energy, which may 
be recognized and classified. In order to be energetic, 
in this technical sense, there must be traceable a pur- 
pose to move the will. For example: 

Stand you directly in Antonius' way 
When he doth run his course. 


Such purpose is not always clearly indicated in the 
phraseology; as, 

This is the way, walk ye in it. 

This sentence may have for its prevailing purpose an 
explanation of the way; or it may express a discrimi- 
nation between this way and some other; or it might 
even hint at emotion; but even though one of these 
should be the prevailing purpose, there may be min- 
gled with that the design to move upon the will. This 
constitutes the energetic element in the utterance. If 
the purpose is to arrest the attention, to give, as it 
were, a shock or sudden impulse, then the energy is of 
the form of abruptness. 

2. Prompt Decision. 

This may result from normal feeling or from some 
degree of sternness or harshness. 

Examples. — Leave me this instant. 

I'll watch to-night : perchance 'twill walk again. 

— Ham. /., 2, 

3. Arbitrary or Impulsive Command; prompted al- 
most necessarily by some degree of harshness or severity. 

Examples. — Down, slave, upon your knees and beg for mercy ! 
Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. 

— Mer. Ven. II., 5. 

4. Volition, prompted by Surprise. 

The energy accompanying surprise may have an 
emotional background of gladness, of suppression, of 
intensity, or of harshness; and the quality of the voice 
will be decided accordingly. 


Examples. — Yet here, Laertes, aboard ! aboard ! for shame ! 

Could anything be a subject of more just alarm to America, than to 
see you go out of the plain high-road of finance, and give up your 
most certain revenues and your clearest interests, merely for the sake 
of insulting your Colonies? — Burke, 

5 . A brupt Energy prompted by Petulci7ice, Impatience y 
or Uncontrolled Anger. 

This variety will naturally be accompanied by feel- 
ings of the harsh order. 

Examples. — Away, slight man ! 

We trifle time : I pray thee, pursue sentence. 

Pooh ! You speak like a green girl. 

In this last case emotion far transcends energy, yet 
there is beneath the emotion the evident purpose to 
move the will. 

I an itching palm! 
You know that you are Brutus that speak this, 
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. 

Many other cases might be found, but all would 
come under the generic idea of abruptness or sudden- 
ness of volitional action. 

Its vocal exponent is Initial Stress (>) ; that is, 
a form of utterance in which the full impulse of the tone 
is felt at the beginning. It is not always explosive or 
violent; it maybe gently prompt. Quickness of touch 
is essential for expressing this element of suddenness. 
The degree of loudness is not important; the tone may 
range all the way from very soft to very loud. The es- 
sential point to be observed is the sudden, unexpected 
impulse or stroke, which typifies the abrupt and instan- 
taneous action of the mind. 


In gesture, the expression of abruptness will consist 
in quick pulse, especially of palm and finger, usually 
" horizontal front." We can scarcely exaggerate the im- 
portance of securing flexibility, elasticity, and vigor in 
the hand itself. Strength of gesture depends much 
more upon the quality as affected by the action of the 
hand, than upon the extent, produced by the swing of 
the arm. 

This form of energy is the weakest, not only as lying 
nearest to mere deliberation — volitionally, it is the 
weakest in this sense; — it represents also a rather un- 
controlled, ungoverned action of the will, prompted by 
sudden and unrestrained impulses; its more marked 
forms are childish, rather than manly. In this respect 
it is the opposite of the second form; namely, Insist- 

Abruptness may be paraphrased by repeti- 
tion of synonyms; thus: 

leave ! move ! detest, abhor, loathe, abomi- 

Go I hate and I 


despise thee! 

Or, the same sentence may be paraphrased by addi- 
tion of intensifying words; thus: 

at once, instantly, bitterly, intensely unspeak- 

Go I hate and I 

ably, immeasurably 

despise thee. 

The former is more objective; the latter, more sub- 




THIS is a stronger and nobler form of volitionality. 
It has not the impulsiveness of Abrupt Energy. It is 
less emotional; the will comes into more direct and 
immediate connection with the intellect. It is pre- 
eminently the expression of conviction. It represents 
the self-controlled, the consciously powerful; it is the 
deliberate pressure, or bearing, of one will upon an- 
other. Generically, it is domination. 

Insistence in all its types will, however, have been 
prepared and colored by emotions of firmness, stern- 
ness, dignity; and will employ mild forms of the tense 
or rigid quality. 

Cases of it are: 

1. Settled Determination. 

Examples. — Come one, come all; this rock shall fly 
From its firm base as soon as I. 

Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more 
than unto God, judge ye; for we cannot but speak the things which 
we have seen and heard. — Acts iv. 19, 20. 

Here I stand ; God help me : I cannot do otherwise. — Luther. 

I appeal unto Caesar. — Acts xxv. 11. 

Nothing but truth could give me this firmness; but plain truth and 
clear evidence can be beat down by no ability. 

I speak with great confidence. I have reason for it. The ministers 
are with me. They at least are convinced that the repeal of the Stamp 


Act had not, and that no repeal can have, the consequences which the 
Honorable Gentleman who defends their measures is so much alarmed 
at. To their conduct I refer him for a conclusive answer to his objec- 
tion. I carry my proof irresistibly into the very body of both Minis- 
try and Parliament ; not on any general reasoning growing out of col- 
lateral matter, but on the conduct of the Honorable Gentleman's Minis- 
terial friends on the new revenue itself. — Burke. 

2. Authoritative Utterance, Dignified Reproof, or 
Official Statement, 

Examples. — Verily, verily, I say unto you. 

Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ? 

Thou hast not lied unto men but unto God. 

He shall do this ; or else I do recant 
The pardon that I late pronounced here. 

You wronged yourself to write in such a case. 

Thy money perish with thee. 

Do you forget that, in the very last year, you stood on the precipice 
of general bankruptcy? 

Behold, ye despisers, and wonder, and perish. 

Therefore let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God hath 
made that same Jesus, whom ye have crucified, both Lord and Christ. 

You are therefore at this moment in the awkward situation of fight- 
ing for a phantom ; a quiddity ; a thing that wants, not only a sub- 
stance, but even a name; for a thing, which is neither abstract right, 
nor profitable enjoyment. . . . Upon the principles of the Hon- 
orable Gentleman, upon the principles of the Minister himself, the 
Minister has nothing at all to answer. He stands condemned by him- 
self, and by all his associates, old and new, as a destroyer, in the first 
trust of finance, of the revenues; and in the first rank of honor, as a 
betrayer of the dignity of his country. — Burke. 

Make room, and let him stand before our face ! 

How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none? 

Upon my power I may dismiss this court. 


And this notable conclusion of Edmund Burke's 
impeachment of Warren Hastings: 

Therefore, it is with confidence that, ordered by the Commons of 
Great Britain, I impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and misde- 

I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain, whose 
national character he has dishonored. 

I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose laws, 
rights, and liberties he has subverted. 

I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose property 
he has destroyed, whose country he has laid waste and desolate. 

I impeach him in the name of human nature itself, which he has 
cruelly outraged, injured, and oppressed, in both sexes. 

And I impeach him in the name and by virtue of those eternal laws 
of Justice which ought equally to pervade every age, condition, rank, 
or situation in the world. 

Without official authority, an utterance may express 
so strong and settled conviction, and may so appeal to 
the listener by the weight of its own evident truth, that 
it amounts to authority. For example: 

Ah, gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake. Such a secret can be 
safe nowhere. The whole creation of God has neither nook nor cor- 
ner where the guilty can bestow it and say it is safe. ... It must 
be confessed; it will be confessed; there is no refuge from confession 
but in suicide, and suicide is confession. — Webster. 

It will be notably true in this type of energy, as pre- 
viously said of energy in general, that the definite voli- 
tionality of the utterance may be tested by translating, 
or attempting to translate, the words into grammatical 

The vocal symbol of this form of energy is the 
Final Stress (<). It is a deliberate gathering up, 


a cumulation of force. Beginning moderately, it typi- 
fies the calm, assured attitude of a mind that is so con- 
fident in its position that it does not need to assert 
itself. The pressure typifies the resistlessly gathering 
conviction; the ending with full tone indicates the com- 
pleteness of conviction. The final stress is usually 
accompanied by falling slide. It bears downward as 
well as outward. It marks conscious power, insisting 
upon acknowledged right. 

In action this form of energy is expressed by slow 
preparation, with increasing force, often descend- 
ing front. As most of the words of a sentence serve 
to prepare the way or the one or two words that con- 
tain the heart of the assertion ; so most of the time 
occupied in the final stress gesture is in preparation for 
the " ictus," or stroke. Adapt carefully the preparation 
and ictus. Let the hand lead the voice. 

Take any dignified, impressive speech, such as that 
of Webster on the Union, or of Lincoln at the Dedica- 
tion of Gettysburg: note the volitional conditions; 
speak sentences in initial stress, or the abrupt mood; 
then the same in final stress, the insistent mood; and 
observe the changes in effect. 

The difference between abruptness and insistence is 
well brought out in Julius Caesar, Act 4, Scene 3. 
Study the characters of Brutus and Cassius, the special 
situation, then the words of each; note the various ex- 
pressions of abruptness, and those of insistence, as 
growing out of the characters of the two men and their 


respective views of the situation. At first Cassius 
seems annoyed, irritated, exasperated; in this mood he 
tends toward the form of abruptness. Brutus at the 
first seems collected, dignified, and inclined to reprove 
Cassius; he therefore tends to express himself in the 
form of insistence, that of dignified reproof. In the 
course of the dialogue they seem to change places — 
Brutus becoming momentarily excited and abrupt 
while Cassius, taking advantage of this change, assumes 
the dignified and defiant. At this turn the voices, like 
the words, assume respectively the opposite attitudes. 
As an illustration of Paraphrase for Insist- 
ence, that of settled conviction and determination, 
take the following short sentence from Patrick Henry: 

The war is inevitable. 

Expand it, first objectively; thus: 

which I have thus predicted one that no power on 
The war is 

earth can possibly avert, it is 

Then, more subjectively; thus: 

I solemnly believe as surely as the forces of nature 

The war is 

obey their fixed laws 


Observe that in either case the mental expansion 
suggested by the words interlined between "is" and 
"inevitable" bears chiefly upon the last word. 

Examples. — This type of energy should be illus- 


trated by many passages, analyzed and paraphrased. 
The intelligent and judicious use of insistent force, as 
here explained, will add greatly to the power of the 
forensic speaker. 




In this form we have more noticeable emotion min- 
gled with the energy. It represents the Stimulus of 

ennobling thought, together with the sense of insistent 
or cumulative force. It is adapted to the utterance of 
any sentiment that elevates and fills the speaker's soul, 
and at the same time seeks to impress and move the 
soul of the listener. Without this element of insist- 
ence, it would be simply emotional; with this it be- 
comes a buoyant pressure, or an elevated impulse, orig- 
inating in the speaker's conception of the noble, but 
seeking to make the listener realize the same and act 
upon it. 

Four types can be clearly distinguished: 
I. Encouragement , or stimulation to something good 
and noble. 

Examples. — Wherefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, im- 
movable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch 
as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord. — I Cor. xv. 58. 

Hold fast that which thou hast, that no one take thy crown. — Rev. 
iii. 11. 

Praise ye the Lord; for it is good to sing praises unto our God ; for 
it is pleasant; and praise is comely. 

The Lord doth build up Jerusalem : He gathereth together the out- 
casts of Israel. 

He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds. 

He telleth the number of the stars : he giveth them all their names. 
— Ps. cxlvii. 1-4. 


Arise, shine ; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is 
risen upon thee. 

For, behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the 
people ; but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen 
upon thee. 

And nations shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness 
of thy rising. 

Lift up thine eyes round about, and see : they all gather themselves 
together, they come to thee : thy sons shall come from far, and thy 
daughters shall be nursed at thy side. 

Then thou shalt see, and be lightened, and thine heart shall tremble 
and be enlarged ; because the abundance of the sea shall be turned unto 
thee, the wealth of the nations shall come unto thee. — Isa. lx. 1-5. 

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State, 
Sail on, O Union, strong and great. 

2. Adoration, with purpose to uplift the listener 
into the same state. 

Examples. — 

Ye living flowers that skirt th' eternal frost ! 
Ye wild goats, sporting 'round the eagle's nest ! 
Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain storm ! 
Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds ! 
Ye signs and wonders of the elements ! 
Utter forth "God!" and fill the hills with praise ! 

Thou kingly Spirit throned among the hills, 
Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven, 
Great hierarch ! tell thou the silent sky, 
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun, 
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God. 

— Coleridge. 

How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts! 
My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord; my 
heart and my flesh cry out unto the living God. 

Yea, the sparrow hath found her an house, and the swallow a nest 


for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of 
Hosts, my King, and my God. — Ps. lxxxiv. 1-3. 

The Lord reigneth; he is apparelled with majesty ; 

The Lord is apparelled, he hath girded himself with strength : 

The world also is stablished, that it cannot be moved. 

Thy throne is established of old : 

Thou art from everlasting. 

The floods have lifted up, O Lord, 

The floods have lifted up their voice ; 

The floods lift up their waves. 

Above the voices of many waters, 

The mighty breakers of the sea, 

The Lord on high is mighty. 

Thy testimonies are very sure : 

Holiness becometh thine house, 

O Lord, for evermore. — Ps. xciii. 1-5. 

3. Admiration, joined with the purpose to make 

others admire. 

Examples. — How beautiful she is ! how fair 

She lies within those arms, that press 
Her form with many a soft caress 
Of tenderness and watchful care. 

— Longfellow . 
He was a man, take him for all in all, 
I shall not look upon his like again. 

— Ham. /., 2. 
This was the noblest Roman of them all. 

His life was gentle; and the elements 

So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up 

And say to all the world, This was a man! 

Jul. Cces. V.,S- 

For even then, Sir, even before this splendid orb was entirely set, 
and while the western horizon was in a blaze with his descending 
glory, on the opposite quarter of the heavens arose another luminary, 
and, for his hour, became lord ot the ascendant. . . . And I did 
see in that noble person such sound principles, .such an enlargement of 


mind, such clear and sagacious sense, and such unshaken fortitude, as 
have bound me, as well as others much better than me, by an inviola- 
ble attachment to him from that time forward. ... I stood near 
him; and his face, to use the expression of the Scripture of the first 
martyr — his face was as if it had been the face of an angel. I do not 
know how others feel ; but if I had stood in that situation, I never 
would have exchanged it for all -that kings in their profusion could 
bestow. I did hope that that day's .danger and honor would have 
been a bond to hold us all together forever. — Burke. 

4. Joy or Exultation, with the purpose to lead others 
to rejoice. 

Examples. — Sing aloud unto God our strength : 

Make a joyful noise unto the God of Jacob, 

Take up a psalm, and bring hither the timbrel, 

The pleasant harp with the psaltery. 

Blow up the trumpet in the new moon, 

At the full moon on our solemn feast day. — Ps. lxxxi. 1-3. 

O, sing unto the Lord a new song : 

Sing unto the Lord, all the earth. 

Sing unto the Lord, bless his name ; 

Show forth his salvation from day to day. 

Declare his glory among the nations, 

His marvelous works among all peoples. 

For great is the Lord, and highly to be praised : 

He is to be feared above all gods. 

For all the gods of the peoples are idols : 

But the Lord made the heavens. 

Honor and majesty are before him : 

Strength and beauty are in his sanctuary. — Ps. xcvi. 1-6. 
Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright I 
Ho ! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night ! 
For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave, 
And mocked the counsel of the wise and the valor of the brave. 
Then glory to his holy name, from whom all glories are ; 
And glory to our sovereign lord, King Henry of Navarre. 

— Macaulay. 


Banners and badges, processions and flags, announce to us, that 
amidst this uncounted throng are thousands of natives of New England 
now residents in other States. Welcome, ye kindred names, with kin- 
dred blood ! From the broad savannas of the South, from the newer 
regions of the West, from amidst the hundreds of thousands of men 
of Eastern origin who cultivate the rich valley of the Genesee or live 
along the chain of the Lakes, from the mountains of Pennsylvania,, 
and from the thronged cities of the coast, welcome, welcome ! 
Wherever else you may be strangers, here you are all at home. You 
assemble at this shrine of liberty, near the family altars at which your 
earliest devotions were paid to heaven, near to the temples of worship 
first entered by you, and near to the schools and colleges in which 
your education was received. You come here with a glorious ancestry 
of liberty. You bring names which are on the rolls of Lexington,. 
Concord, and Bunker Hill. . . . 

But if family associations and the recollections of the past bring you 
hither with greater alacrity, and mingle with your greeting much of 
local attachment and private affection, greeting also be given, free and 
hearty greeting, to every American citizen who treads this sacred soil 
with patriotic feeling, and respires with pleasure in an atmosphere per- 
fumed with the recollections of 1775 ! This occasion is respectable, nay, 
it is grand, it is sublime, by the nationality of its sentiment. Among the 
seventeen millions of happy people who form the American community, 
there is not one that has not a deep and abiding interest in that which 
it commemorates. — Webster. 

The vocal expression for this form of energy is the 
Median Stress (<>), expressing, generically, a 
"swell," usually accompanied by a slight rise and fall 
in the pitch, similar to the falling circumflex, but not 
heard as inflection. 

Stijdy the swell with pure tone, and allow the feelings 
to be* elevated with the increase of tone. Expansibil- 
ity and fullness of voice are the means for the expres- 
sion of this property. 


The gesture analogous to median stress is a large 
motion, curving, often " ascending oblique," with ex- 
panding, stretching palm; frequently using both hands. 
Practice gesture with swell on the vowels. Imagine 
you are stretching a band of India-rubber. Never al- 
low the tone to become hard or rough. Full swell 
should produce full resonance. 

Paraphrase for this type of energy. — Interlinear 
expansion will be the most natural means. 

For an example of the Energy of Uplift expressing 
the idea of encouragement, — a buoyant bearing up of 
the emotion, while bearing out upon the will,-M;ake the 
following stanza, and interline reasons and incen- 

O fear not in a world like this, 

And thou shaltknow ere long, 
Know how sublime a thing it is, 

To suffer and be strong. 

— Longfellow. 

by all that is noble and worthy, I entreat you there 

O fear not 

is no possible reason why you should be dismayed ; everything is on 
the side of him who is right : banish all dread and hesitation ; launch 
out fearlessly, courageously, buoyantly, assuredly 

in a world like 

in which, to be sure, the forces of good and evil seem to be 

contending, with the odds sometimes against the good, and yet 
with the assurance as firm as the eternal truth itself, that right shall ul- 
timately prevail : surely, absolutely not by 

And thou shalt know 


faith or trust alone, but by personal and positive experience 


as soon as the present turmoil is over, and things stand out in 


their just and eternal relations, by a blessed and triumphant as- 


surance how infinitely above the petty, warped, and 

how sublime 

darkened aims of time-serving souls, how lofty, how noble, how in- 
finitely glorious whatever annoyance, dis- 

a thing it is, To suffer 

appointment, pain, or loss you may meet for the little moment of this 
life, in spite of all this, — nay, because of these things, — patiently, 


courageously, hopefully, heroically to 

be strong. 

In connection with the above paraphrase it is worth 
while to repeat, that to stop and say in words what ap- 
pears in the interlineations, would of course be a 
wretched distortion of the form of Longfellow's 
thought. Both the form and the full sense may, how- 
ever, be preserved by thinking such interlineations 
while saying the words of the stanza. The expanding 
thoughts which are interlined will, of course, tend to 
increase slightly the length of the pauses and to en- 
hance quite perceptibly the quantity and volume of 
the vowels. 

Such work must be studied both mentally and phys- 
ically. It will accomplish little to prepare the mind by 
comment and expansion, unless the voice learn to make 


the subtile and minute representations of such mental 
expansions. On the other hand, the voice alone might 
be trained mechanically to produce the needed pauses 
and enlargement of quantity ; and yet secure nothing but 
hesitation and drawling. The combination of mental 
with vocal measurements cannot fail to produce vivid, 
intense, and rational utterance; this is expression. 




THIS type of energy occurs in all utterances of great 
dignity and weight, which do not seek to impress 
themselves upon the listener so much by insistence or 
cumulation as by the display of an even, firm, and ele- 
vated property, typifying the greatest possible appreci- 
ation of nobility and resistless strength. 

It will be accompanied by emotional conditions be- 
longing under either "enlargement" or " sternness" in 
its nobler varieties. 

Examples. — And God spake all these words, saying, 

I am the Lord thy God which have brought thee out of the land 
of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. — Ex. xx. 1, 2. 

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; 

Or close the wall up with our English dead ! 

In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, 

As modest stillness, and humility : 

But when the blast of war blows in our ears, 

Then imitate the action of the tiger ; 

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, 

Disguise fair nature with hard- favour' d rage : 

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; 

Let it pry through the portage of the head, 

Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it, 

As fearfully as doth a galled rock 

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, 

Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. 

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide ; 

Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit 

To his full height ! — On, on, you noblest English, 


Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!— 

Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, 

Have in these parts from morn till even fought, 

And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument. 

Dishonour not your mothers ; now attest 

That those whom you call fathers did beget you! 

Be copy now to men of grosser blood, 

And teach them how to war ! — and you, good yeomen, 

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here 

The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear 

That you are worth your breeding : which I doubt not ; 

For there is none of you so mean and base, 

That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. 

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, 

Straining upon the start. The game's afoot ; 

Follow your spirit : and, upon this charge, 

Cry — God for Harry ! England ! and Saint George ! 

—Henry the Fifth III., j. 

The symbol of this form of energy is the Thor- 
ough Stress ( ), expressing, generically, sus- 
tained force. It is approximately equal throughout 
the phrase or passage so emphasized. This quality of 
force will tend to produce also monotony of inflection ; 
both together will give the stateliness, the staid and 
solid effect, which this type of energy requires. The 
tone is to be prepared by first singing and chanting 
with full voice, then practicing passages with the " call- 
ing tone," sustaining the force as nearly equal as possi- 
ble throughout the passage. In drilling on this form 
of energy it will often be useful to employ pro- 
longed or repeated gesture, oblique, horizon- 
tal, or ascending. Full extension of arm will usually 
be suitable, accompanying the thorough stress. 


Paraphrase for Prolonged Enforcement. — 

This type of energy, in its more rhetorical use, is well 
exemplified in the even, sustained dignity of such pas- 
sages as the following from the Psalms: 

The Lord hath prepared his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom 
ruleth over all. 

Expand by interlining considerations that will help 

you to realize the elevation and grandeur of 

the thought. 

the Eternal One, the Self Existent; He who is the 

The Lord 

same yesterday, to-day, and forever, from all 

hath prepared 
eternity, or ever the earth was, by his established decrees, which 
shall know no change while time endures, eternal and 

his throne 

immutable as himself where he dwelleth, whence 

in the heavens, 

his commands go forth to all the universe, thus 

and his kingdom 

established on a sure foundation, unshaken, immovable, destined 
completely to triumph over all opposing forces, with eter- 


nal power and grace both those who gladly accept his domin- 


ion and those who weakly try to resist his power: — all alike shall feel 
and own the eternal supremacy of the righteous King, 


With this form of energy there is a steady, resistless 

movement, approximating monotony. This seems the 

natural expression of momentous thought. It is the 

noblest form of energy, and belongs to thoughts that 


have the greatest elevation, the fullest sweep. To 
exaggerate this, or to degrade it by employing it upon 
undignified thoughts, is an elocutionary trick which no 
genuine reader or speaker will ever employ. On the 
other hand, the conscientious interpreter must not, from 
fear of affectation, hesitate to employ such natural means 
of expression when demanded. For a speaker to 
assume to be so unmoved that he can coolly and intel- 
lectually mention a fact or a truth of supreme moment, 
is itself an affectation of the weakest and unworthiest 
kind. In these fuller and nobler forms of energy there 
must, of course, be the previous intellectual measure- 
ment of the situation; and then will follow the emo- 
tional elevation — the exalted attitude of the whole soul 
— which shall thus justify the strong volitional condition. 
Without such antecedent preparation of both intel- 
lect and sensibility, the assumed energy would become 
nothing but rant and cant. Such abuse, and such par- 
tial, unprepared uses of energy are often witnessed 
both in the pulpit and on the platform, particularly in 
"stump speeches." While possessing a specious force, 
they fall far short of intellectual or moral power. The 
will must, indeed, dominate; but its domination must 
be both prepared and justified; and such justification 
will be most reasonably secured by a thoughtful para- 




In this form of volitionality the mind is in a state of 
perturbation. The will acts in a more or less interrupt- 
ed or spasmodic way, under conflicting motives to 
suddenness and insistence. There is an impulse toward 
abruptness, but not simply the abruptness of surprise, 
impatience, or uncontrolled feeling; it is rather that of 
deep and tumultuous passion, mingled with the sense 
of pressure or weight. It is found in strong natures 
under powerful emotions which they are able only in 
part to control. The emotions are of the "agitated" 

Find examples of this in the Closet Scene of 
Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 4; and in Julius Caesar, Act 1, 
Scene 1. 

The form of vocal energy expressing this mood is 
called Compound Stress (><). It expresses, gener- 
ically, a double shock. This tone can scarcely be given 
with the voice alone. It must be practiced with ges- 
ture, which will frequently be given with clenched 
fist or strong pulse of palm and fingers, frequently 
with repeated stroke, or shake. 

The compound stress is quite analogous to compound 
inflection, representing a double motive or impulse 
in the mind. Usually the two impulses which combine 


to form this composite effect may be revealed by analy- 
sis, which will show the reason for the presence of the 
two elements in the thought. 

Paraphrase for Violent Energy. — Here, evi- 
dently, emotion will be more apparent, and will 
form a larger percentage of the expressional power. 
The interlineations will be such as to reveal a 
disturbed, violently moved, shocked condition of 
the sensibilities, together with an impetuous, unre- 
strained, and yet powerful, insistent action of the 
will. Let this attitude be illustrated by the fol- 
lowing passage from " The Vision of Don Roderick," 
by Scott: 

But conscience here, as if in high disdain, 

Sent to the monarch's cheek the blood — 
He stayed his speech abrupt — and up the prelate stood. 

11 O hardened offspring of an iron race! 

What of thy crimes, Don Roderick, shall I say? 
What alms, or prayers, or penance can efface 

Murder's dark spot, wash treason's stain away! 

For the foul ravisher how shall I pray, 
Who, scarce repentant, makes his crime his boast? 

How hope almighty vengeance shall delay, 
Unless, in mercy to yon Christian host, 

He spare the shepherd, lest the guileless sheep be lost." 

Observe that the first three lines quoted hint at the 
pantomimic condition and expression, which justifies 
the following speech The tense, disturbed, abrupt 
action will of course be expressed in the paraphrase 


by a violent exclamatory utterance, interjected between 
the words of the text; thus: 

cruel, conscienceless, defiant, brazen 

O hardened offsprings 

hard-hearted, relentless, overbearing 

of an iron race! 

tell me, speak, answer! horrible, revolting, blood- 

What of thy crimes, 

curdling, who can name them, who can describe 

Don Roderick, 

them? what tongue can portray them? 

shall I say? What alms, or 
prayers, or penance [here the amplification by repeti- 
tion seems to be done for us] 

the horrible blot, the dastardly mark,. 

can efface Murder's dark spot, 

revealing your foul soul in its hideous uncleanness, 

wash treason's 

ay, treason, blackest crime, beyond murder; most impious! most reckless! 
most defiant! how can I bring 

stain away! For the foul ravisher 

myself, how can you expect me? Oh, why should any man be called to- 
intercede for such! 

how shall I pray? 

A Final Word on the Study of Energy. — 

It is vital to observe two things, and in their proper 
order: First, Try to measure the kind and degree of 
volition — note carefully the attitude of the speaker's 
will at the moment of utterance, as bearing upon the 
will of the addressed. Do not be content with simply 


saying, " There is energy demanded here"; see what 
kind of energy. Second, Learn carefully and practi- 
cally each kind of stress; train the voice to these differ- 
ent apportionments of power, until the vocal symbol 
instantly and instinctively adapts itself to your mind's 
conception of the variety of energy required. 

Practice verifying the significance of these different 
types of energy by listening critically to voices in con- 
versation and in public discourse. 

Do not confuse stress with inflection; practically 
they may unite — scientifically we are to separate them; 
and in the drill stage they must be thought of as 

Practice vowels and numerals in all forms of stress, 
always associating the rhetorical significance, and men- 
tally thinking some sentence requiring different kinds of 
-stress; then take actual sentences, speak them with 
different kinds of stress, and note the differences in sig- 

Do not overdo the matter of stress. Like all vital 
elements in expression it must be used moderately in 
order to be effective. Never allow mere impulse to 
decide the form or degree of stress. Effective utter- 
ance is always dominated by the intelligence and the 

Whatever particular form of volition is studied, the 
utterance must be justified to the reader or speaker by 
such mental expansion, comment, and restatement as 
could be expressed in writing. This will, indeed, fall 


short of complete expression, and is intended to be 
only an aid to such expression; but such aid is needed. 

The things to be kept constantly in mind are these: 
First, that volitional attitudes and actions must be 
justified by their relations to the intellectual and 
emotional conditions which introduce them ; and, Second, 
that they may be mentally intensified, by such repe- 
titions and additional expressions as, if fully written, 
would quite overload the verbal expression. 

In addition to those already given, find or make typi- 
cal examples of abruptness, insistence, uplift, estab- 
lishment, and violence. Write in between the lines and 
between the words such amplifying matter as you think 
will legitimately express the accompanying thoughts 
and impulses of the speaker's mind, and thus give force 
and point to these different types of energy. 



THUS far we have considered the more minute and 
particular applications of the properties of tone to 
special purposes in the utterance. In one view, the 
study cannot be too minute, even though it become 
microscopic; because the examination into the definite 
purpose and the precise relations of thought must be 
the basis for any refined and expressive utterance. 
Nevertheless, many people can judge only in a more 
general way; and even a critic must take note, first, of 
the broader principles and properties of utterance. 

These general properties of utterance are approached 
from the physical side rather than from the mental; 
and for this reason they should be studied only after 
formal and thorough analysis of thought-properties. 

The particular applications of tone-properties, as 
quantity, inflection, stress, serve to single out some 
word or phrase as the center of the expression and as 
that which gives character to the utterance. All the 
general applications, as movement, key, melody, gen- 
eral force, and general quality, give character to the 
thought as a whole, and not with special reference to 
any one central word or phrase. The general both af- 
fects the particular and is affected by it. 

The general should always lead, and subordinate to 


itself the particular. Thus, e.g., "general force" is deter- 
mined by the consideration of the kind of energy im- 
plied in the passage as a whole ; when thus determined, 
"particular force," or "stress," will naturally follow, ap- 
plying itself to the central words in each assertion or ap- 
peal. The emphasis thus secured will not have the undue 
pointedness or jerky effect sometimes heard in young 
speakers. It was necessary at first to study force in the 
form of stress, to reach a specific idea of the different 
kinds of energy. So, inflection is more easily under- 
stood than melody; and pause and quantity, than move- 
ment. These different elements, once apprehended in 
connection with the smaller divisions of speech, be- 
come a guide and illustration to the larger divisions, 
which in turn react upon the particular elements. 

We study, as "general properties," Movement, 
Rhythm, Melody, Quality, and Force; and for conven- 
ience we include in this division of the work the topics: 
Vocal Expression as applied to different forms of Lit- 
erature; Gesture as Figurative Language, and Vocal 




You may know a true artist by his sensitiveness to tempo. 

— Madame Seller* 

MOVEMENT, as an element of expression, is distin- 
guished from pause and quantity mainly by this feat- 
ure of general application; that is, while pause or 
quantity is heard upon a single element of a sentence, 
and for the uses of that element, except in case of the 
oratorical pause, general movement, or rate, is heard as 
affecting the whole passage, division, or discourse. 

Movement in speech corresponds to tempo in music; 
pauses correspond to rests; quantity, either to notes 
relatively long or to " holds." The movement, or tempo y 
gives the general effect of the thought as a whole. 
Movement either measures the rapidity of the mind's 
action in the thought which is uttered, or suggests the 
amount and nature of unuttered but implied thought. 

The slower movements express more of thought- 
fulness, seriousness, solemnity, tenderness, doubt or 
misgiving, in the mind of the speaker; and adapt them- 
selves to the descriptions of scenes, incidents, etc., that 
are slow-moving or grave. In short, slow movement 
means gravity. 

Examples: — 

Cces. Would he were fatter ! but I fear him not : 
Yet, if my name were liable to fear, 


I do not know the man I should avoid 

So soon at that spare Cassius. He reads much; 

He is a great observer, and he looks 

Quite through the deeds of men : he loves no plays, 

As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music: 

Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort 

As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit 

That could be moved to smile at any thing. 

Such men as he be never at heart's ease 

Whiles they behold a greater than themselves ; 

And therefore are they very dangerous. 

I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd 

Than what I fear, for always I am Caesar. 

Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, 

And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. 

—Jul. Cces. I., 2. 
Bru. That you do love me, I am nothing jealous ; 
What you would work me to, I have some aim : 
How I have thought of this, and of these times, 
I shall recount hereafter; for the present, 
I would not, so with love I might entreat you, 
Be any further moved. What you have said, 
I will consider; what you have to say, 
I will with patience hear; and find a time 
Both meet to hear and answer such high things. 
Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: 
Brutus had rather be a villager 

Than to repute himself a son of Rome ' 

Under these hard conditions as this time 
Is like to lay upon us. 

— Jul. Cces. /., 2. 

"Prince of Peace." Note that name. When kings rule in that 
name, and nobles, and the judges of the earth, and they also, in their 
narrow place, and mortal measure, receive the power of it. 

"God bless us every one! " said Tiny Tim, the last of all. He sat 
very close to his father's side, upon his little stool. Bob held his. 
withered little hand in his, as if he loved the child, and wished to* 


keep him by his side, and dreaded that he might be taken from him. 

— Dickens. 

The faster movements express, subjectively, 
triviality, lightness, merriment, cheer, boldness, deter- 
mination, intensity (when not seriously assertive); and 
objectively, they fit the description of scenes or events 
that move rapidly. In a word, fast rate means either 
lightness or intensity. 

Examples: — 

B?'u. Ride, ride, Messala, ride, and give these bills 
Unto the legions on the other side: \_Loud alarum. 

Let them set on at once ; for I perceive 
But cold demeanor in Octavius' wing, 
And sudden push gives them the overthrow. 
Ride, ride, Messala : let them all come down. [Exeunt. 

— Jul. Cces. V., 2. 

Salar. Not in love neither? Then let's say you 're sad, 
Because you are not merry ; and 'twere as easy 
For you to laugh and leap, and say you 're merry, 
Because you are not sad. 

— Mer. Ven. /., /. 

Laun. Well, well; but, for mine own part, as I have set up my rest 
to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground. My 
master's a very Jew: give him a present! give him a halter: I am 
famish'd in his service; you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. 
— Mer. Ven. II. , 2. 

It will be seen that rate helps to express either of 
the four principal moods of utterance. 

1. Deliberation, in its various offices, is recognized 
chiefly by this element, the different kinds of delibera- 
tive matter being marked mainly by differences in 
movement. The relation between movement and the 
varieties of deliberation has been developed in Part I. 


2. Movement also assists Discrimination in the 
broader sense, as marking the difference between one 
general scene or thought and its opposite, or between 
a general negative idea and its antithetic positive. Neg- 
atives, as being lighter, usually move faster; assumed 
matter faster than asserted ; subordination faster ; doubt 
more slowly. This broader discrimination is not wholly 
dependent upon inflection. Slides and circumflexes in- 
dicate discrimination between words or phrases ; and 
by the same natural principle of opposition, the. differ- 
ences between one general thought and another, occu- 
pying each a paragraph or a division of the discourse, 
must be expressed by those elements which are naturally 
adapted to the use of the larger divisions of language, 
and one of these elements is Rate, or Movement. 

Examples. — I will not attempt to describe that battle. The cannonad- 
ing; the landing of the British; their advance; the coolness with which 
the charge was met ; the repulse ; the second attack; the second repulse; 
the burning of Charlestown ; and, finally, the closing assault, and the 
slow retreat of the Americans, — the history of all these is familiar. 

But the consequences of the battle of Bunker Hill were greater than 
those of any ordinary conflict, although between armies of far greater 
force, and terminating with more immediate advantage on the one side 
or the other. It was the first great battle of the Revolution; and not 
only the first blow, but the blow that determined the contest. It did 
not, indeed, put an end to the war, but in the then existing hostile state 
of feelings, the difficulties could only be referred to the arbitration of 
the sword. — Webster. 

Ant. I have heard 

Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify 
His rigorous course ; but since he stands obdurate 
And that no lawful means can carry me 


Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose 
My patience to his fury, and am arm'd 
To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, 
The very tyranny and rage of his. 

—Mer. Ven. IV., I. 
Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. 

3. Again, Emotion will most sensibly affect the rate. 
Whatever awakens feelings of cheerfulness and merri- 
ment, or of intensity and rage, will quicken the rate; 
while that which deepens, ennobles, or oppresses the feel- 
ings will show itself in slower movement. For exam- 
ples of Emotion affecting movement refer to Part II. 

4. So, too, the different kinds of Energy, as applied 
to whole passages, will affect the rate, and be affected 
by it. Stress and movement will react mutually. For 
example : abruptness will generally tend to rapidity; 
insistence or enlargement, to slowness. For examples 
refer to Part III. 

Examples. — Find or compose passages illustrating 
effects of movement ; especially such as express dis- 
crimination, emotion, or energy, by changes in rate. 




Methinks your words 
Fall not from off your tongue so evenly. 

—Philaster III., 1. 

NOTHING is more vital to speech than the due pro- 
portion of light and shade, or of accented and unac- 
cented elements in sentences. Regular recurrence of 
accent produces poetic rhythms or scansion. It is not 
our purpose here to go into the minutiae of this sub- 
ject. The student is advised at this point to review 
Prosody. We are to study here prose rhythms, which 
only approximate the regularity of scansion, and which 
may even seem to present no real resemblance to it. 
That there is, however, a more or less regular flow of im- 
pulses, is proved by the fact that Ave find real difficulty 
in either speaking or hearing a succession of words in 
which this property is wanting. 

In calling attention to this matter of prose rhythm, 
there is no intention to induce a droning or " sing-song" 
style of reading or speaking ; neither is it the object to 
produce an exaggerated or a mechanical measurement 
of accents ; exactly the opposite effects result from a 
due regard for the rhythm of the language. 

I. As an illustration and a basis, let us take the 
more common and important poetic rhythnis. 


1. Trochaic. Here the foot consists of an accented 
syllable followed by an unaccented ; as, 

Sing, O | Song of | Hiawatha, 

Of the | happy | days that | followed. 

Know, my | soul, thy | full sal | vation. 

2. Iambic verse. The foot consists of a "short" 
syllable, or unaccented, followed by a "long," or ac- 
cented ; as, 

The mel | anchol | y days | are come, 
The sad | dest of | the year. — Bryant. 

3. Dactylic verse. The foot consists of an accented 
syllable followed by two unaccented syllables, giving a 
gliding, and often a somewhat tripping movement ; as, 

Clear was the | heaven and | blue, | and | May with her 
cap crown 'd with | roses. . . . — Longfellow* 

4. Anapestic verse. In this the foot consists of 
two unaccented syllables followed by an accented. 

The Assyr | ian came down | like a wolf | on the fold, 
And his co | horts were gleam | ing with pur | pie and gold. 

— Byron. 

5. Amphibrachic. Each foot here consists of an 
unaccented, an accented, and another unaccented syl- 
lable ; or, short, long, short. 

The Lord is | my shepherd, | no want shall | I know. 

6. Spondaic. In this both syllables of the foot are 
accented and are approximately equal in their volume 
and force. Such feet come in usually as exceptions, 
and for special emphasis. They detain by increased 
quantity ; as, 


. And the | wind and the | brooklet 
Murmured | gladness and | peace — God's \ peace with | lips 
rosy I tinted. — Longfellow. 

Now it will be observed that the significance of 
these different kinds of metre or verse, lies deeper than 
the mere form. It is not simply a question of sym 
metry, or agreeable succession or collocation of syl 
lables. There is in each kind of metre a certain spirit 
and expressiveness. Thus the trochaic gives more ol 
promptness, incisiveness, spring and boldness than does 
the iambic. The trochaic is better suited, therefore,, 
to the utterance of the cheerful, the buoyant, the ab- 
rupt ; it is somewhat analogous to the initial stress. 
The iambic, beginning light and ending heavy, is quite 
like the final stress, and is more insistent in its nature ; 
it becomes, therefore, the natural expression of the 
more serious and grave sentiments. The trisyllabic 
kinds of verse give, in their nature, more of the gliding 
or springing effect. This is due, primarily, to the fact 
that each foot has twice as much light sound as heavy. 
There is a certain elastic rebound upon the unaccented 
syllables. This is more particularly noticeable in the 
dactylic measure. The amphibrach has a sort of rhyth- 
mic surge, or plunge, or dash, which fits it for many 
bold measures like that in " Lochinvar," by $cott: 

O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 
Through all the wide border his steed is the best. 

Or this, from Robert Browning : 

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris and he, 

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three. 


It may give also the uplift of encouragement. 

The anapestic will have a happy combination of full 
or buoyant flow or of a broader and more dignified 
sweep, together with a certain insistence and weight. 
This is well illustrated in the " Destruction of Sennach- 
erib/' by Byron; for example, this passage : 

For the Angel of Death spread his wings o'er the blast, 
And breathed on the face of the foe as he passed. 

Suppose now these two lines were reconstructed so 
as to present essentially the same picture, but in iambic 
verse. We should still retain something of the insist- 
ence; but, by removing one of the short syllables from 
eajch foot, we have diminished the breadth and dignity 
of the verse. We have taken out its majesty and 
sweep. Try it, thus: 

The Angel, Death, came on the blast, 
And breathed on face of foes he passed. 

A comparison of the two will show that it is not 
simply, nor mainly, the less complete logical or gram- 
matical, nor even pictorial properties, in which the 
iambic form is inferior to the anapestic. The strength 
and the nobleness of the anapestic movement itself, 
with its full and flowing, and far-reaching energy, is the 
essential, the vital element in Byron's magnificent 

The general significance of these different types of 
rhythm may be better kept in mind by noting the fol- 
lowing mnemonic epithets, which are at least suggest- 



Trochaic ( — ^) springy, cheery, prompt. 
Iambic (— — ) more grave, insistent, firm. 
Dactylic ( — ^^) sprightly and musical. 
Amphibrachic (^ — — ) with stronger uplifting. 
Anapestic (^^ — ) with a full, buoyant sweep. 
Spondaic ( ) full sound, even. 

It must be borne in mind that the effects here indi- 
cated are the usual and normal ones. They are 
subject to many modifications. The thought con- 
tained in the poetry is often modified or supplemented, 
rather than emphasized or directly expressed, by the 
movement of the verse. 

II. Study Prose Rhythnis. — The same element 
of effectiveness which we feel in the rhythm of poetry, 
becomes, in a modified form, a vital element in ex- 
pressive prose. There is not, of course, the regularity 
of verse, but there is an approximation to it in the 
proportion and arrangement of accents. All prose 
has some rhythm. Prose rhythm is the ap- 
portioning of time by vocal icti, or impulses; 
and the movement thus produced indicates the 
speaker's mood or purpose in the utterance. 

Prose rhythm differs from poetic rhythm chiefly in 
these two respects: (1) it is less regular, and (2) it is 
much more determined, — often almost wholly so, — by 
the reader's or speaker's interpretation, and not by the 
formation of the line. It will be sufficient for our use 
to make four classes of prose rhythms, which we shall 
name Abrupt, Insistent, Gliding, and Weighty. 

Some help may be gained by considering the anal- 


ogy of prose rhythms to poetical, and of these to the 
rhythms of music. We may say that all the varieties 
of rhythm are derived from two primal types: two- 
pulse measure and three-pulse measure. 

The simplest form of two-pulse measure in music 
is expressed by two quarter notes occupying the meas- 
ure; thus: 

I J I I I I I! 

The analogous effect in prose is what we shall call 
Abrupt Rhythm. The rhythm depends upon suc- 
cession of accents, and these accents occur at regular 
intervals of time. The rhythm will be essentially the 
same if the even notes representing the accented and 
unaccented portions of the measure should either or 
both of them be subdivided. The rhythm is a matter 
of the apportionment of time, marked by icti y or vocal 
stresses, in the utterance. Suppose the accented note 
to be divided into two eighth notes; thus: 

% * !* I 

# * II 

the rhythm is unchanged. 

Suppose, again, that the unaccented part should be di- 
vided into two, or even into four; so long as the por- 
tions of time occupied by accented and unaccented 
parts of the measure remain the same, the rhythm is un- 
changed. Now even in music and in poetry these 
equal portions of the measure are often thus subdi- 
vided, giving variety and flexibility to the rhythm. In 


prose rhythms there is still more variety, and two, 
three, or even four essentially unaccented syllables 
may occupy one time-portion of the phrase or group- 
ing, which, if it were in verse we should call the foot, 
or in music, the measure. 

Take this example from Dickens' David Copperfield: 
"I wrapped myself in my clothes as quickly as I 
could/' Here we shall fail to catch the sense of the 
rhythm if we attempt to scan the syllables according 
to metre. The rhythm must express the rapidity 
of movement demanded by the scene, and the icti 
must fall upon the emphatic words, "wrapped," 
" clothes" and "quickly," or "could." The personal 
pronoun "I" will not form any essential part of the 
measure, being unemphatic, undiscriminative, assumed 
as a part of the verb, as it is in Latin; it might be con- 
sidered in a musical notation as a sort of grace note, or 
appoggiatura, in connection with the tone given to the 
word "wrapped." The syllables "myself in my" may 
be considered to occupy together the unaccented part 
of an abrupt group, like a trochaic foot; so may the 
four syllables "as quickly as"; the second "I" is like- 
wise treated as an essential part of the verb, and is not 
given any noticeable place in the rhythm. The line 
might be approximately represented in its rhythm by 
the following; notation: 

EE • e # s a € 4 # € a € # 

I wrapped my-self in my clothes as quickly as I could. 


It is by no means intended that prose shall be 
scanned or sung or measured by beating time. The 
force of these illustrations is simply in the analogy they 
bear to the more definitely marked forms of rhythm in 
verse and in music, especially in the recitative. And the 
point to be remembered might be expressed, a fortiori, 
thus: If, even in the mechanically regular groupings of 
music and of verse, such alterations, substitutions, and 
divisions may occur, much more may they occur in the 
less regular groupings of prose, and yet retain an es- 
sential rhythm. It must ever be borne in mind that 
the rhythm of prose, like the melody of speech, is mainly 
a matter of the reader's interpretation. In the truest 
light this enhances the artistic qualities of both prose 
rhythms and speech melodies, by their very flexibility, 
which invites inventive skill and originality of interpre- 
tation. To create a melody or adapt a rhythm from 
one's own insight into the significance and require- 
ments of the passage, is higher art than to follow a defi- 
nitely prescribed form, either in pitches or in rhythms. 

The Insistent or iambic rhythms are also based on 
the principle of twos, but begin on the unaccented part 
of the measure; thus: 

If a - ny, speak; for him have I of - fend-ed. 
I is 

i ill 

I Ml !* I I M I 1^ H 

• 1 • • I • I # I • • ' II 

If a - ny, speak; for him have I of - fend-ed. 


The Gliding rhythms of prose are analogous to 
the triple, or trisyllabic, rhythms in verse and are all de- 
rived from the simple type of three-pulse time, of 
which 3-8 measure might be taken as the norm. 

The dactyl uses this measure in its simplest form. 
" Trippingly," " tenderly," " merrily," " joyously," 
"earnestly," and the like, are natural dactyls. 

£3 # # e # \\ 

Trip-ping-ly, mer - ri - ly. 

The amphibrach would seem to be made by the 
same measure, beginning the foot on the unaccented 
part; thus: 

§ r* I T i* - -M ^ > H 1* r ,* I 1 

■Q # 4 \ * a 00 19 

I sprang to the stir-rup, and Jo - ris, and he. 

"Rejoicing," " receding," "surrounding," "uplifting," 
are amphibrachic words. 

The anapest would begin with the last two notes of 
the measure, and complete its foot on the first, or ac- 
cented, part of the following measure; thus: 

SN \ ' ■n \ n. 1 \ n n n \ m> s I 
\ \ \ \ I 
Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not de-plore thee, 

E r* r* I 1 x ! 
\ 11 

Though sor-row and dark-ness en - corn-pass the tomb. 

r f^ I s M , v .* ,* 


Weighty rhythms in prose are like spondaic effects 
in verse, and have close analogy in the even movement 
of choral music, or, still better, in those exceptional 
passages in which a single syllable occupies an entire 
measure of the music, so that essentially each syllable 
is accented. A fine case of this is in the closing 
passage of the Messiah chorus: "All we like sheep 
have gone astray." The spondaic effect is very pro- 
nounced in the music interpreting these words: "And 
the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all." 

Order of Study. — After regular stanzas, which 
most clearly reveal the rhythm, take blank verse, like 
that of Shakespeare or Milton, and note the effects 
of the rhythm. A displaced accent or an imperfect 
line will cheapen and almost destroy the effect in many 
places; while in other lines change of rhythm, by 
substituting one foot for another, not only gives 
pleasing variety in the music of the verse, but often 
suggests a distinct rhetorical significance, which could 
scarcely be so delicately or so economically conveyed 
in any other way. 

Next take prose passages that are specially rhythmi- 
cal, those which are semi-poetic being the best at this 
stage; divide them into feet approximately; that is, 
separate, as in scanning, the groups of syllables w r hich 
cluster about every accented syllable; not expecting, of 
course, to find perfect uniformity, and allowing for a 
compromise between the ideal rhythmic flow and 
the logical requirements of the grammatical and rhe- 


torical groupings. Striking resemblances will be found 
between the passages in such prose selections and the 
kinds of verse they resemble. The most incisive and 

promptly energetic passages, as in explanatory and di- 
dactic matter, and in surprise, impatience, prompt de- 
cision — all that would naturally take the initial stress 
— will be found to resemble strongly the trochaic 
verse. More grave and insistent passages, those ex- 
pressing settled determination, deep conviction, dignity, 
authority, and the like — such as will best be rendered 
in final stress, — will reveal a noticeable resemblance to 
the iambic verse. The more gliding will resemble 
some one of the trisyllabic verses; and the most weighty 
of all, occurring in specially emphatic spots, will often 
be like spondees in a poetic line. 

Xote the delicacy and strength of the rhythms in 
these passages from Blaine's Eulogy of Garfield. 

Xot alone for the one short moment in which, stunned and dazed, he 
could give up life, hardly aware of its relinquishment, but through days 
of deadly languor, through weeks of agony, that was not less agony 
because silently borne, with clear sight and calm courage, he looked 
into his open grave. . . . 

Gently, silently, the love of a great nation bore the pale sufferer 
to the longed-for healing of the sea, to live or to die, as God should 
will, within sight of its heaving billows, within sound of its manifold 
voices. With wan, fevered face tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze, he 
looked out wistfully upon the ocean's changing wonders ; on its fair 
sails, whitening in the morning light ; on its restless waves, rolling 
shoreward to break and die beneath the noonday sun; on the red 
clouds of evening, arching low to the horizon ; on the serene and 
shining pathway of the stars. Let us think that his dying eyes read a 


mystic meaning which only the rapt and parting soul may know. Let 
us believe that in the silence of the receding world he heard the great 
waves breaking on a further shore, and felt already upon his wasted 
brow the breath of the eternal morning. 

The words " Through days of deadly languor, through 
weeks of agony/' are to be interpreted with the rhythm of 
weight (spondaic) as expressing the seriousness, the op- 
pressiveness, the tension of the situation. The fol- 
lowing clause, " that was not less agony because silently 
borne," has a gliding rhythm like that of a mild dac- 
tyl. It expresses the assumed and repetitious. In the 
last clause, " clear sight," "calm courage," " open grave," 
are essentially spondaic. In the next paragraph the 
epithets "gently," "silently," "tenderly," "wistfully," 
all express the sense of ideality, tranquillity, and affec- 
tion which gives color to this passage, and naturally the 
words fall into the gliding rhythm of the dactylic type. 
"Rolling shoreward" gives, by its spondaic effect, a 
realizing sense of the majesty and sublimity of the 
ocean, and not less of the great forces of time and 
eternity, which it figuratively presents in this connec- 
tion. How sublime and spiritually uplifting, yet how 
unobtrusive, are these last lines: "He heard the great 
waves breaking on a further shore, and felt already 
upon his wasted brow, the breath of the eternal morn- 
ing." Their effect is greatly enhanced by the min- 
gling of the weighty (spondaic) and the gliding of the 
anapestic variety. It is scarcely conceivable that the 
sentiment could be expressed in any other style of 


The gliding rhythms might be subdivided as follows: 
that which approaches nearest to the dactylic type ex- 
presses thought which is assumed, commonplace, neg- 
ative, transitional, conciliatory, — in a word, whatever 
passes with the easiest possible movement, and is de- 
signed to produce the most comfortable or the most 
matter-of-course effect. The gliding rhythm of the 
amphibrachic variety, that which has the accent, or ictus>. 
near the middle of its groups, and which therefore re- 
sembles and fits the median stress, is well adapted to 
all bouyant effects, as encouragement, exhortation^ 
boldness, with some reach or sweep, all that uplifts 
and stimulates, — whatever expresses the cheery and 
hearty, rather than the easily comfortable. The glid- 
ing rhythm of the anapestic style, throwing its volume to- 
ward the end of its measures, typifies the sense of reach, 
extent, breadth, fullness, together with ideality or ex- 
altation. It may have a certain type of encouragement, 
but lacks the personal element and the direct con- 
tact, being more elevated and approaching the stateliness 
of " thorough stress." 

In general we may say, that the dissyllabic groupings 
in prose are more intellectual, or else are more simply 
and directly volitional; while the trisyllabic are prima- 
rily emotional. There is in the three-syllable rhythms 
an agreeable flow, which may mean conciliation, cheer- 
ful animation, merriment, buoyancy, or the stronger 
emotions awakened by the sense of nobility and gran- 
deur. The significance of each of the four types of 


prose rhythm may be more readily remembered by this 
little table: 

f Abrupt, like Trochaic Verse and Initial Stress. 
Prose J Insistent, like Iambic Verse and Final Stress. 
Rhythm. | Gliding,' like Trisyllabic Verse and Median Stress. 

^ Weighty, like Spondaic Verse and Thorough Stress. 

Take the following sentences in Hamlet's advice to 
the players, Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 2: 

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you. 

So far the rhythm is of the incisive, initial-stress type, 
similar to the trochaic verse. 

Trippingly on the tongue, 

gives us almost the equivalent of two dactylic feet; and 
the reason is obvious. The sound measures the sense, 
giving a gliding and easy flow. 

But if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the 
town crier spoke my lines. 

This is, for the most part, earnest, somewhat insist- 
ent. It is the final-stress mood, and is similar to the 
iambic verse. In the last words, 

The town crier spoke my lines, 

we have an approach to the spondee, which gives a 
climax of intensity and earnestness. 

Notice the abruptness of impatience in these expres- 
sive words: 

O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious, *periwig-pated fellow 
tear a passion to tatters! 

Certainly the effect of this sentence does not depend 
wholly upon the sound of the words, with their sharp, 
biting consonants, but largely upon the rhythm. And 


observe how the accent and the rhythm change in the 
following words: 

To very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings. 

Here we have the iambic, the insistent. 

The remainder of this remarkable speech may be 
analyzed in a similar way; and it will be found that 
these rhythmic elements here characterized as abrupt, 
insistent, gliding, and weighty, will quite nicely meas- 
ure the changing moods in the utterance. 

Examples'of Prose EIiytlim,tol)e Analyzed. 

— We rear a memorial of our conviction of that unmeasured benefit 
which has been conferred on our own land, and of the happy influences 
which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests 
of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark a spot which must for 
ever be dear to us and our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all 
coming time, shall turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not 
undistinguished where the first great battle of the Revolution was 
fought. We wish that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and 
importance of that event to every class and every age. W T e wish that 
infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from maternal lips, and 
that weary and withered age may behold it, and be solaced by the 
recollections which it suggests. We wish that labor may look up here, 
and be proud, in the midst of its toil. W 7 e wish that, in those days of 
disaster, which, as they come upon all nations, must be expected to 
come upon us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hither- 
ward, and be assured that the foundations of our national power are 
still strong. We wish that this column, rising towards heaven among 
the pointed spires of so many temples dedicated to God, may contribute 
also to produce, in all minds, a pious feeling of dependence and grati- 
tude. We wish, finally, that the last object to the sight of him who 
leaves his native shore, and the first to gladden him who revisits it, 
may be something which shall remind him of the liberty and glory of 
liis country. Let it rise! let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming; let 


the earliest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and 
play on its summit. — Webster. 

Live for something. Do good and leave behind you a monument of 
virtue that the storm of time can never destroy. Write your name in 
kindness, love, and mercy on the hearts of thousands you come in con- 
tact with, year by year: you will never be forgotten. Your name, your 
deeds, will be as legible on the hearts you leave behind, as the stars on 
the brow of evening. Good deeds will shine as the stars of heaven. — 

The golden ripple on the wall came back again, and nothing else stirred 
in the room. The old, old fashion! The fashion that came in with our 
first parents, and will last unchanged until our race has run its course, 
and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The old, old fashion 
— Death. O, thank God, all who see it, for that older fashion yet, of 
Immortality! And look upon us, Angels of young children, with regards 
not quite estranged, when the swift river bears us to the ocean! — 

Books are needed, but yet not many books; a few well read. An 
open, true, patient, and valiant soul is needed; that is the one thing 
needful. — Carlyle . 

When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun 
in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored 
fragments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered, discordant, 
belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in 
fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather 
behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored 
throughout the Earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies 
streaming in their original luster, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor 
a single star obscured; bearing for its motto no such miserable inter- 
rogatory as, "What is all this worth?" nor those other words of 
delusion and folly, "Liberty first, and Union afterwards;" but every- 
where, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its 
ample folds as they float over the sea, and over the land, and in every 
wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every 
true American heart, — "Liberty and Union, now and for ever, one and 
inseparable!" — Webster. 


Prose writing differs from prosodial in the fact of ir- 
regular arrangement of syllables. This allows group- 
ings and rhythms to be very flexible in order that they 
may express different interpretations, feelings, and mo- 
tives. Prose is thus freer than poetry, — more adapta- 
ble. It often happens that a line of poetry, even, may 
be scanned in different ways, yielding as a result dif- 
ferent interpretations, or at least a different spirit. 
Thus the line, ''There is a strange, sweet solace in the 
thought," may be scanned as an iambic pentameter, 
which it naturally is; or, by itself, the line might scan 
as composed of three anapests, or, more strictly, as an- 
apest, amphibrach, and anapest. To do this it would 
be necessary to elide only a single syllable, the word 
"is," or unite it in the time of one syllable with the 
indefinite article following; thus: " There's a strange — 
sweet solace — in the thought." It is evident that the 
second rendering produces much less of gravity than the 
first, — more of reverie, with a certain freedom and un- 
constraint, — a sort of abandon. 

It is not meant that poetry can often be thus varied 
in its scansion or interpretation. The point in the 
illustration is simply that the variable nature of occa- 
sional lines in poetry only illustrates the greater free- 
dom and adaptability of ordinary prose. In poetry, as 
in music, the rhythm is for the most part determined by 
the writer. In prose, on the other hand, the rhythm is 
largely determined and produced by the reader. Many 
passages of prose are, however, so distinctly rhythmic- 


al in their writing and so unmistakable in their gen- 
eral spirit, that the rhythm is largely prescribed, as it 
would be in music. Such passages, however, are rare, 
and are the ones that are usually called " rhythmical," 
in recognition of this distinctive property. They are 
not the only rhythmical passages in the language. Ev- 
ery passage has a rhythm of some sort, and the purpose 
in studying prose rhythms is to recognize these differ- 
ences in expression as interpreting the significance of 
the passage. The first clause of Hamlet's advice to 
the players is susceptible of several different rhythms 
in accordance with the interpretation assumed. If you 
take it to be a prompt, decisive, authoritative and some- 
what impulsive command, it will fall into an abrupt 
rhythm; thus: " Speak the — speech, I — pray you, as — I 
pro — nounced it — to you." If, on the other hand, 
you assume it to have a graver, more serious, and more 
dignified bearing, it will fall into the insistent, or iambic, 
rhythm: " — Speak — the speech — I pray you — as I — 
pronounced — it to you." Or again, if it is thought 
conciliatory, kindly, gentlemanly, as if Hamlet took for 
granted that they would follow his direction, and only 
told them they need not do anything else, then the 
line acquires a gliding rhythm ; thus : ' ' Speak the speech 
[dactyl] — I pray you [amphibrach] — as I prpnounced 
[approximately anapest] — it to you [light dactyl]." 
This last is probably the best reading, though it is 
usually given according to the first interpretation. 
This element of rhythm in expression is one of the 


most subtile and delicate, yet one of the most effective. 
Its realization gives relief to the voice and to the ear; 
secures an interpretative variety in movement, stress, 
and accents; and greatly favors agreeable and expres- 
sive melodies. 

The study of prose rhythms should have a beneficial 
reaction upon the reading of verse. The rationalizing 
of the rhythm, or, in other words, its intellectual inter- 
pretation, should save the reader from the mere scan- 
sion of "sing-song," which is utterly unscholarly and 
childish. At the same time, the recognition of rhythm 
as essential both to the form and to the meaning of 
poetry, can never be overlooked after the reader has 
learned to recognize the special significance of each 
kind of rhythm. It very often happens that a passage 
of poetry may, without altering the essential frame- 
work of its metre, be yet shaded and retouched by the 
suggestions of other elements which the full interpre- 
tation of the thought may demand. The vocal inter- 
pretation will thus supplement the poetry and add 
to the music of the verse something of variety and full- 
ness, which a mere mechanical following of its scansion 
would prevent. 

In the following stanza, which is iambic as a whole, 
notice the partial substitutions of some feet, which 
give variety and richness to the expression. "Bless the 
shadows," are two trochees. "The beautiful shadows," 
are, essentially, two amphibrachs. The trochaic effect 
gives a somewhat prompt, cheery impulse to the will, 


as if to arrest the attention and give, as by a quick 
heart-throb, the sense of decision and vigor. The 
words "The beautiful shadows," fall into amphi- 
brachs to express ideality with a certain uplift and 
strength enhancing the interpretation of the figure as 
given in the remainder of the stanza. The second line, 
in its simple, iambic effect, gives gravity, seriousness, a 
mild type of insistence, serving to impress the lesson. 
The substitution of the two anapests in the words "As 
thou goest abroad," gives something of enlargement 
and fullness of reach, elevating the line above a mere 
didactic or volitionally insistent motive. The remain- 
ing three lines of the stanza verge closely upon the 
spondaic, and they thus express a breadth, a dignity 
and elevation, a sublimity, which could hardly be given 
by any other form. 

Bless the shadows, the beautiful shadows, 
And take this thought as thou goest abroad ; 

In heaven and earth, 

Shades owe their birth 
To light — and light is the shadow of God. 

Other favorable prose passages for analysis of rhythm 
are such as the following: Webster's oration at the 
dedication of Bunker Hill Monument, many passages 
from Everett, as for example, his lecture on Washing- 
ton, the oration on the First Settlement of New England, 
his eulogy on Lafayette; and many others. Almost 
every orator who has spoken with effect has given mod- 
els in this element of rhythm. Nor is it confined to 


oratory. Specimens may be found throughout the 
works of such masters of prose style as Dickens, Irving, 
Hawthorne, George Eliot, Charles Kingsley, Macaulay, 
and Carlyle. It will be helpful to take passages that 
are especially fine or strong in their rhythm, and try to 
paraphrase them into forms having different rhythmic 
character. It will generally be found that there is a 
close connection between the rhythmic and the logical 
properties; the body answers to the soul. 




And lend to the rhyme of the poet 
The beauty of thy voice. 

— Longfellow . 

The element of pitch is seen in intervals, or relative 
distances of tones from each other in the scale, and in 
the scales or keys employed. 

Keys. — A "key" is a group of sounds having dif- 
ferent pitches, and associated together by certain rela- 
tions of sequence and dependence. The two tones 
most characteristic and determinative in a key are the 
"tonic" and the "dominant." These are in speech 
approximately, as they are in music exactly, a fifth 
apart; being recognized as the "do" and the "sol" of 
the key. 

1. High keys usually give animation, vivacity, 
triviality, airiness, brightness, ideality; or excitement, 
intensity, eagerness. They are naturally associated 
with rapid movement. 

Examples : — 

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee 

Jest and youthful jollity. 

— Milton. 

Ariel. All hail, great master ! grave sir, hail ! I come 
To answer thy best pleasure ; be't to fly, 
To swim, to dive into the tire, to ride 


On the curl'd clouds: to thy strong bidding task 
Ariel, and all his quality. 

Ariel. Where the bee sucks, there suck I : 

In a cowslip's bell I lie ; 
There I crouch when owls do cry. 
On the bat's back I do fly 
After summer merrily. 
Merrily, shall I live now 

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. 
Miranda. O, wonder ! 

How many goodly creatures are there here ! 
How beauteous mankind is ! O brave new world, 
That has such people in 't ! 

2. Medium keys belong to the expression of the 
commonplace — of that which is not specially em- 
phatic. They naturally fit a medium rate, and are 
used in the great bulk of conversational and oratorical 

Examples. — There was a man sent from God whose name was John* 
Happiness is reflective, like the light of Heaven : and every coun- 
tenance, bright with smiles, and glowing with innocent enjoyment, is 
a mirror transmitting to others the rays of a supreme and ever-shining 

3. Low keys express gravity, seriousness, pathos, 
and certain forms of intensity, as, for example, strong 
determination. These almost of necessity take a slow 
movement, as the vocal organs cannot act with great 
rapidity in the lower tones. 

Examples: — 

But who may abide the day of his coming? — Malachi. 

Cas. Portia, art thou gone ? 

Bru. Xo more, I pray you. 

Brit. Now, as you are a Roman, tell me true. 


Mes. Then like a Roman bear the truth I tell : 
For certain she is dead, and by strange manner. 

Bru. Why, farewell, Portia. We must die, Messala: 
With meditating that she must die once, 
I have the patience to endure it now. 

Mes. Even so great men great losses should endure. 

— Julius Ccesar IV. , 3. 

Classify the following utterances as to keys: 

Var. Calls my lord? 

Bru. I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep ; 
It may be I shall raise you by and by 
On business to my brother Cassius. 

Var. So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure. 

Bru. I will not have it so : lie down, good sirs ; 
It may be I shall otherwise bethink me. 
Look, Lucius, here's the book I sought for so; 
I put it in the pocket of my gown. [Var. and Clau. lie down. 

Luc. I was sure your lordship did not give it me. 

Bru. Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful. 
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, 
And touch thy instrument a strain or two ? 

Luc. Ay, my lord, an't please you. 

Bru. It does my boy : 

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing. 

Luc. It is my duty, sir. 

Bru. I should not urge thy duty past thy might ; 
I know young bloods look for a time of rest. 

Luc. I have slept, my lord, already. 

Bru, It was well done ; and thou shalt sleep again ; 
I will not hold thee long : if I do live, 

I will be good to thee. [Music and a song. 

This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber, 
Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, 
That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night ; 
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee : 
If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument : 
I'll take it from thee ; and, good boy, good night. 

— Julius Ccesar IV. , j. 


Keys of Different Voices. — Male voices will, on 
the average, give about D (middle of Bass staff), as the 
dominant tone of their medium key; female voices 
nearly an octave higher. These tones are, respectively, 
the best for general practice. The male voice will be 
in the " lower chest " action, or register; the female, in 
the " upper chest." There is less difference as to pitch 
in speaking tones between high and low voices than is 
often supposed. The difference is more in fullness — 
the bass and alto voices having deeper, larger vibrations 
in the lower tones. Tenors may average F where 
basses would give D; sopranos D, where altos would 
give B. The dominant tone of the medium key should 
leave room for a full and strong descending fifth with- 
out forcing the lower note of the interval. Every voice 
should have control of at least one octave and a half 
of resonant tones: most voices can use two octaves or 

Give examples of passages requiring different 
keys; according to the above principles, (1), (2), (3). 

Melody as here treated is not rhythm, nor euphony, 
nor harmony. Rhythm has already been discussed: 
euphony is treated under " special qualities," and 
is regarded as suggestive of the sense, thus 
covering the ground usually treated under harmony. 
Melody here means a succession or sequence of 
pitches. Broadly defined, it may be considered a 
fuller application of the doctrines of inflection, together 
with certain added elements of significance, mainly 


emotional, which are most directly and definitely sym- 
bolized by the element of motion. Melody in the voice 
thus becomes analogous to gesture in its fuller import, 
including the bearings and textures of the body as 
well as the definite movements of gesticulation. 

As to Intervals in Melody. — i Small diatonic 
intervals give the commonplace, unimpassioned, con- 
versational. The voice will move mostly by seconds 
and thirds; except in direct interrogation and in posi- 
tive affirmation, where it will give a fifth, ascending or 

2. Larger intervals give boldness or hilarity, like 
free large movements of the hand. Sometimes they 
symbolize an ascent into the realm of ideality; thus a 
high tone, held lightly and easily may suggest a sepa- 
ration from the physical and the earthly. Often an 
octave, or even more, may be traversed. 

3. Chromatic intervals give intensity, either of irri- 
tation and rage; or of pity, pathos, humility, etc. 

4. Minors give sadness, drooping, depression; or 

5. Unusual intervals (for example, the augmented 
fourth, the sixth, or the tenth) give unexpected effects. 

Inflection and melody mutually react; forming as- 
cending, descending, or composite melodies, according 
to prevalence of rising or falling slides or of circum- 
flexes. These are sometimes called " sweeps." 

The emphatic elements in a sentence set the trend 
of melody, into which the secondary or subordinate 


elements are attracted. Thus melody, in connection 
with grouping, serves to express the intellectual, especi- 
ally the discriminative properties of the thought. 
Melodies that tend upward give a general sense 
of incompleteness; those tending downward suggest 
completeness, affirmation, assertion, domination. Anti- 
thetic thoughts expressed in clauses or sentences will 
usually take contrasted melodies, just as antithetic 
words take contrasted slides. 

Much can be gained at certain stages of the study, 
by diagramming sentences and passages for melody. 
This need not be done by using actual notes on 
the musical staff, but quite as well and often better, 
especially for discrimination, by writing the words in 
such shapes and relations as to suggest the movements 
of the voice on them; thus: 

bury him;" 

to Cae- praise 

come sar, to 

"I not 

or, by simply marking on the board or paper lines and 
dots: long, bold lines for the emphatic words, and 
lighter, shorter lines, or mere dots, for secondary and 
unimportant elements, especially for that which is sub- 

When the student has secured accuracy and rapidity 
in marking inflections as heard in dictated exercises, he 
will have little difficulty in expanding these into melodies. 


The diagramming of melodies will have the same rela- 
tion to vocal expression that diagramming of sentences 
has to analysis in grammar. The melody-diagrams are 
somewhat the more natural and directly suggestive. One 
advantage of the freer marking by lines and dots is 
that it leaves the teacher at liberty to accommodate the 
scale or the proportions to the individual student, throw- 
ing into bold relief any feature that may, for any reason, 
need to be specially emphasized. But such devices, 
whether in grammar, in rhetoric, in logic, or in vocal 
expression, are of course only a temporary scaffolding. 

As already seen in the significance of different inter- 
vals, melody has in connection w r ith qualities a directly 
emotional effect. Combined with proper forms of 
stress it greatly assists energy. Perhaps the impulses 
of the will are quite as plainly indicated by melodies as 
are the emotional conditions. Indeed, emotion and 
energy are so interblended in expression that it is diffi- 
cult to separate them. Minor cadences reveal weak- 
ness of will quite as often as they show depression of 
feeling: any expression of a subdued state of feeling is 
often saved from becoming enervated or unmanly by 
that poise, directness, and "tonicity" in the voicewhich 
is symbolized by full major melodies. 

The following examples derived from a study of the 
relations of song and speech, will illustrate various ele- 
ments of significance in melody, especially the emo- 
tional and the volitional. The student will not, of 
course, attempt to make an exact reproduction of these 


musical melodies. They will be useful in showing the 
general outline of speech-melodies fitted to express 
similar sentiments. It must be further borne in mind 
that the individual notes in speech differ from those of 
song in an essential feature, that of continuity. The 
speaking tone is composite, having a "radical" and a 
"vanish." The radical may be recognized as having a 
definite pitch, like that of a musical note. The only 
practical difficulty in determining the pitch is the short 
duration which it usually has. On the other hand, the 
vanish is a subtile, gliding element, immediately follow- 
ing the radical, and closely united with it, so as to be 
almost indistinguishable unless unnaturally prolonged. 
A prolonging or drawling of this vanish sometimes 
produces an effect similar to that of the circumflex, 
from which it differs in this respect: the circumflex 
proper is not a combination of radical and vanish but 
of two different radicals. 

The speaking tone, then, is constantly moving, up- 
ward or downward; whereas the singing tone is held 
for an appreciable time on the same unvarying pitch. 
This has sometimes been called "level pitch." Ex- 
ceptions to level pitch in singing are the "portamento" 
and the " appoggiatura," which perceptibly resemble 
effects of speech ; and the one exception to waving and 
or vanishing pitch in speaking is the monotone, which 
strongly resembles chanting. Making all due allow- 
ance for this difference between the intonation of song 
and that of speech, it will still be true that the melo- 


dies of music, particularly the intervals of expressive 
recitatives, afford many valuable hints as to melodies of 

The examples here given may first be sung (trans- 
posed into any other key, if more convenient), and then 
immediately read in approximately the same intervals, 
allowing perfectly free play of the voice as to radical 
and vanish, and not attempting to reproduce the time- 
effects of the song, either in rhythms or in relative length 
of notes. Usually pauses will be substituted for pro- 
longations, though fullness of quantity in speaking may, 
in large degree, suggest the same effect as length of 
note in singing. 

The commonplace or unimpassioned effect of small 
diatonic intervals need not be specially illustrated here. 
It may be seen in the early phrases of the aria "O 
Rest in the Lord," from " Elijah," and in many exam- 
ples that will easily be found. Bolder, more pro- 
nounced and positive effect is realized in the closing 
phrases of that same melody, "for the Lord is near," 
etc. Notice, also, similar effects, but more colloquial, 
in the recitative "Elijah get thee hence," and in other' 
vigorous recitatives, as well as in many songs of a dra- 
matic nature. The difference between minor and major 
intervals, as also that between the smaller and larger, is 
well shown in two contrasted recitatives from the same 



Thou, who mak-est thine An -gels Spir-its: — 



— r2*^ -« #_ « 

* piz* # * 

_i — ^_P-* — E — w 
— -*— F -^ — *— ^ 


___ 7 __ 

Thou, whose min - is - ters are flam - ing fires ; 
, 3 Z=z* 




Let them now de - scend. 

Here the minor third in the first phrase conveys a 
sense of repression, as of reverence blending almost 
into awe. The wider interval of the fifth in the second 
phrase gives something more of strength, as the soul 
of the prophet begins to kindle into righteous indigna- 
tion; and the rapid ascent of the octave, followed (as it 
would be in speech) by a swift falling slide of the octave 
on the last syllable of " descend," gives the full climax 
of majesty and irresistible power. 


-1/ — 

Take all the prophets of Baal, and let not 

-0 — #— 

one of them es-cape you, Bring them down to Ki-shon's 



brook, and there let them be slain. 




Note in this example the effects of openness, bold- 
ness, and a dash of vindictiveness, given mainly by the 
intervals. It is more human than the foregoing — more 
of the earth, earthy. 

Notice similar contrasted effects in the two following 

Adagio. — a. - 

-#- _ -m- JL 





It is e - nough, O Lord, now take a-way my 











-I 4- 

~* — =1 \ — 3— =1- 

for I am not bet - ter than my fa-thers ! 


z n.--^ r~K -a, 

^* — «r 

5 -.X--- 

gy.p-jt— j ! ^czr~*'tP — 



-•- -•- -#- I. I. 

r i/ * 



Molto Allegro vivace. 

ss% — •- 


... M. fi 

:5— t==c 


I have been ver - y jeal - ous for the 

-2 ^ 


* — •— # 

"#" •#" '#" 




Lord, for the Lord God of Hosts. 

*#-# «i 

~#~p~a;~ T '^#~#~ # H ~r 

-•--•-#- ~#- tf- "#- 





The difference in expressiveness resides both in the 
keys, with their consequent intervals, and in the 

Note the tenderness and pathos given by chromatic 
intervals in the following example: 


w + • 

Sing ye praise, all ye re- deem -ed of the 




0— 6— 

■ - ^— 

— # 1 1 I 1 

- y y y - + 

* ^*_ 

-*— I — — 

Lord, Re-deem-ed from the hand of the foe, 

From vour dis-tress-es 

from deep af - flic - tions. 


The following from the Erl-king by Schubert, shows 
a different effect secured by chromatic intervals, namely 
great intensity, that of fear or dread. 

O fa - ther, the Erl-King now puts forth his 


■ y^i-H- P— 


i — &■ — 1- _ 

arm, Fa - ther, the Erl - King has done me harm. 

The cessation of the chromatic effect and the return 
to wide intervals descending by a fifth to the key note, 
indicates the suspension of the terror, and the acquies- 
cence of weakness, submitting to the inevitable. The 
effect is that of finality, with sadness and gloom. 

Another example of chromatic interval giving great 
intensity, in this case that of pointed energy with sur- 
prise, was heard by the writer in a most effective rhet- 
orical rendering of a sentence from Grattan: " He has 
charged me with being connected with the rebels. ,, 
The melody of speech was precisely that of the 


ascending chromatic scale, closing with the interval of 
an octave, discrete, or staccato, between the two sylla- 
bles of the lastw r ord; thus: 

He has charged me with being connected with the reb-els. 

Much valuable suggestion, especially for advanced 
students, may be gained as to the significance of melodies, 
by analyzing recitatives in their connection, entire songs, 
especially of the more poetic or romantic type, and 
choruses that are especially dramatic. Such forms will 
give the most of direct and positive light upon speak- 
ing melodies, because they have most of obvious anal- 
ogy. Many thematic songs and choruses will also 
suggest the germs of melodies as truly and as helpfully. 

The Erl-king is especially commended as fruitful in 
its suggestions of melody. 

Who videth so late through the night wind wild? 

This is given in easy, didactic intervals ending with a 
rising fifth. 

It is the father with his child. 

This line follows in similar intervals, putting "father" 
at the highest point in the melody, and ending the 
phrase on the key note with descending fifth, like 

He has the little one well in his arm, 

He holds him safe, and he folds him warm. 

The melody here has gentle, caressing, falling slides, 


giving the last words the close interval which marks 
the minor cadence, expressing tenderness, an inward 
glow and fervor. 

My son, why hidest thy face so shy? 

The question is asked with plain, open intervals, rising 
gently to the last as if in tones of tenderness and 

Seest thou not, father, the Erl-king nigh? 

Here the intervals suddenly become wide, the relative 
length of the notes greater, and the whole has compar- 
atively a startled and strained effect. 

The Erlen-king with train and crown. 

Here is introduced a chromatic interval, the minor sec- 
ond, giving oppression and terror. 

It is a wreath of mist, my son. 

We find here a lower range of tones, with simple, small 
intervals, as if by quiet and commonplace utterance 
the father would restore the confidence of his terrified 

Come lovely boy, come go with me, 

Such merry plays I will play with thee. 

Many a bright flower grows on the strand, 

And my mother has many a gay garment at hand. 

All this is given in the major key, with open intervals 
of the most airy, easy, gliding, alluring nature. The 
child again bursts out in the strained expression of 
closely oppressed chromatic intervals: 

My father, my father, and dost thou not hear 
What the Erl-king whispers in my ear? 


And the father again, with open and smoothly gliding 
intervals, answers: 

Be quiet, ah, be still my child, 

Through withered leaves the wind howls wild. 

Again comes the bewitching melody of the " sprite," 
in wide, dancing, flitting intervals. 

Come lovely boy, wilt thou go with me? 

My daughters fair shall wait on thee, 

My daughters their nightly revels keep; 

They'll sing, and they'll dance, and they'll rock thee to sleep. 

Again the frightened child calls out in the same con- 
straint of narrow interval, but this time in a higher key: 

My father, my father, and seest thou not 
The Erl- king's daughters in yon dim spot? 

Once more, the lower tones, large intervals, with pre- 
vailingly descending melody, express the assurance, 
quiet, and depth of confidence, with which the father 
seeks to still the child. 

Xow comes a different element in the melody. The 
important words take longer notes, the melody glides 
downward in beseeching and caressing form, but at the 
last assumes the positive, bold, almost angular effect of 
the open fifth : 

I love thee! thy beauty has ravished my sense, 
And, willing or not, I will carry thee hence. 

For the last time comes the shriek of alarm and de- 
spair, in the same constrained, forced utterance of chro- 
matic interval, but this time at the very top of the 


O father, the Erl-king now puts forth his arm, 
Father, the Erl-king has done me harm. 

Now the narrative proceeds in the intervals of the 
minor scale, giving oppression, gloom, weirdness, pa- 
thos and intensity, on the word " shudders"; the grace 
note, or appoggiatura, conveying much the same signifi- 
cance as the agitated or tremulous quality in the speak- 
ing voice: 

The father shudders ; he hurries on ; 
And faster he holds his moaning son. 

The denouement is most pathetically given by modu- 
lation to another key, with intervals which seem strange 
and unexpected, and leave the mind in an unfinished, 
almost bewildered state, picturing most effectively the 
broken ties, the disappointment, the desolation of the 
scene : 

He reaches his home with fear and dread, 
Lo! in his arms the child was dead. 

Help may be gained from similar analysis of the fol- 
lowing songs: "The two Grenadiers," by Schumann; 
"The Wanderer," by Schubert; "The Vagabond," by 
Molloy; "A Name in the Sand," by Tours, and many 
others as good or better, which the student, interested 
in this topic, may easily find for himself. Let these 
be expressively sung, with accompaniment; and then 
let them be as expressively read, in melodies similar 
to those of the music, but not stiffly copying them. 
Many less pointedly formative, but not less definitely 
suggestive, may be found. Indeed, it is not so much 


those which definitely resemble the melodies of speech, 
as those which give a germinal thought in the theme, 
that offer most of real suggestion as to the nature and 
significance of speech-melodies. 




'Tis not enough no harshness gives offense, 
The sound must seem an echo to the sense. 


QUALITY is naturally "general" rather than " partic- 
ular," since feeling is evoked by the thought as a whole, 
rather than by any subordinate element. Inflection, on 
the other hand, is necessarily " particular" in its appli- 

I. We may here briefly review, as a "general 
property," the element of quality, or tone-color, 
thinking of it in its application to passages or articles 
as a whole, or to a character in personation. 

1. Pure Tone is the result of a normal action of the 
vocal organs. Such action produces the maximum of 
elasticity, concentration, and resonance, with the mini- 
mum of muscular effort. The vibration seems almost 
spontaneous, automatic. The normal condition of 
the emotions naturally reveals itself through this qual- 
ity, the "pure" being more objective and simple in its 
effect than any other quality. 

2. In the emotions employing the expanded pure there 
is a stronger subjective element. One is conscious of 
himself as being moved by the sense of grandeur, no- 
bility, elevation. It is, therefore, natural that these emo- 
tions should express themselves through a vocal action 


which gives deeper and fuller, yet agreeable sensations. 
Both simple pure and expanded pure may be consid- 
ered healthy or good qualities; all others, unwholesome 
or bad, as indicating some abnormal state of feeling, 
some disturbance or interruption. Correspondingly we 
find that the tones which express these states result 
from some abnormal action of the vocal apparatus. 

3. The aspirated quality results from a suppression 
of natural vocality, corresponding to the suppression of 
natural communication. Such suppression, if the result 
of mere weakness, is only indicative of a state pre- 
viously induced, and is not specially tiresome. If it 
results from a stifling intensity of feeling, it soon be- 
comes fatiguing physically, just as the feeling it por- 
trays does mentally. The whisper is generally much 
more wearisome than full vocalization. 

4. As harshness, anger, jealousy, rage, are perver- 
sions of the natural state of mind, so the tone that 
pictures these is a perversion of the natural action, a 
conflict of the voice with itself, the neck muscles op- 
posing the work of the vocal organs. The fact 
that such perversion becomes habitual in some men 
no more proves it natural, than the fact of habitual 
ill-temper proves that to be of divine origin. 

5. When the emotions under the oppressiveness of 
awe or terror are driven in upon themselves, they be- 
come the most subjective, and so does the tone repre- 
senting them. The gateway outward is largely closed, 
and the deep, half-smothered chest vibration is felt to be 


the natural sign of such emotions. This action is sel- 
dom imitated or affected except by professional imper- 

6. Certain forms of agitation in the feelings impart 
a quiver to the whole frame, especially to the vocal 
chords and the muscles regulating the breath. This 
produces the tremulous quality, which may have widely 
different significations. As a sigh and a laugh are, 
physically, almost the same action, so may pathos and 
merriment be expressed by similar trembling vibrations. 
To know these facts and use them is not affectation. 

II. Special Qualities, — Different shapings of the 
mouth cavity produce varying overtones y and impart 
different qualities, even with the same fundamental 
voice action. Hence, aside from the leading kinds of 
quality already mentioned, we recognize some special 
qualities. Of these there are six distinctly recognizable, 
corresponding to as many definite shapes of mouth, and 
represented each one by a characteristic vowel. 

It is a well-known fact that vowels are simply quali- 
ties. Hence, to each vowel attaches a distinct emo- 
tional significance. Thus 00 is soothing; e is intense; a 
(better represented by the German 6) is great, stately, 
grand; i (at) is bright, wide, high; o is noble; while a is 
hearty. Of course there are combinations and shad- 
ings of these effects indefinite in number. 

At the request of the author the following analysis 
has been contributed by his pupil and friend, Mr. Chas. 
K. Swartz: 


In the utterance of the special vowel qualities above discussed, a 
striking analogy is found to exist between the mental concept and its 
physical symbol. Thus in the formation of the vowel 00, the oral or- 
gans are gently relaxed, the tongue lies softly on the floor of the mouth, 
the lips are slightly parted, and that peculiar quality is imparted to the 
sound which is recognized by the ear as 00. If now the oral organs be- 
come more tense, and the edges of the tongue are turned up, and the 
lips slightly contracted, the vowel quality e is produced, whose signifi- 
cance is strikingly symbolized by the tense conditions of the oral or- 
gans. If the mouth cavity be expanded and the opening of the lips 
made round, is produced, whose significance, as above given, \s noble; 
its more generic meaning may be viewed as large, expanded. If, while 
the mouth organs are in the position required for the utterance of 0, 
the tongue and lips be rendered tense, whereby their texture will be- 
come more firm, a is produced. This vowel, signifying that which is 
great, more accurately expresses a double element, — the enlarged and 
the intense, — both of which enter into the concept of greatness. 
Opening the mouth widely, without stiffening or unnatural constraint 
•of any of the oral organs, ah is produced; its concept being openness, 
heartiness, but without any particular intenseness. If while held in 
the last position the oral organs be rendered more tense, whereby the 
tongue will be made slightly concave, the lips somewhat drawn to- 
gether, the sound i will result. The mental concept expressed by i 
when analyzed will be found to consist in these two elements: wideness, 
and intensity, — well marked in the words high, wide, given in the 
discussion preceding as its key words. 

These analogies may be summed up in the following table: 


Noble, enlarged, expanded. 
Great, largeness with intenseness. 
Hearty, openness. 
High, wide, openness or wideness 
with intensity. 
The essentially diphthongal character of e, a, i, is revealed in the 
above table, as w T ell as their relation to the vowels 00, 0, ah. This ac- 

Oral Organs. 

Gently relaxed 

= 00 = 


= e = 


= = 

Expanded tense 

-= a = 


= ah = 

Open tense 

= i = 


cords with the fact that in certain languages e is considered a modified 
oo (as in German u)\ a is considered a modified o ,(as in German <?); 
while i is recognized as equivalent to ah-e. 

It is believed that a fuller study of the manner in which particular 
mental concepts have become associated with particular tone-qualities 
will reveal facts analogous to those above given. In general it seems, 
probable that definite mental states induce particular muscular condi- 
tions of the vocal organs. Each muscular condition modifies in some- 
special way the sound uttered. This being learned by experience, 
there arises that association between mental concept and tone-quality 
which is the basis of the expression of thought by quality. 

As in " quantity," so in quality, there are, for most 
situations, words naturally suited for expression. Study 
of emotional effects in poetry and oratory will discover 
many of these, and thus greatly enrich one's diction,, 
as well as his delivery. 

Any vowels may be tempered or colored with any 
others, making it possible to change somewhat the 
emotional character of a passage, even with words nat- 
urally unfavorable. 

It is also important to remember that the essentially 
diphthongal nature of many of the vowels gives op- 
portunity for many delicate shadings which are neces- 
sary for full vocal expression. 

This treatment of qualities is the vocal application of 
the rhetorical properties of euphony and harmony, as 
treated by many writers. Prof. Day, jn his " Art of Dis- 
course" speaks of euphony as that element in style 
which "respects the character of the sounds of words 
regarded merely as sounds, without reference to any 
thought which they may express." He defines har- 


mony as that property which " respects the character of 
the sounds of words as expressions of thought"; and 
he says, " harmony, in the wider sense, includes har- 
mony proper, rhythm and melody." 

We have treated separately the topics of rhythm and 
melody, and are now speaking of sounds as expressing 
mental states or emotional conditions. We hold that 
there can be no justification for sound as sound, in in- 
telligent utterance. One thing sounds better than an- 
other in so far as it better expresses the thought; w r ith 
this modification, — that when the same intellectual per- 
ception or the same image can be equally well presented 
by two utterances, one of which is agreeable and the 
other disagreeable, the preference is naturally to be 
given to the agreeable one. Yet even here there is a. 
reason for the choice in this fact, viz., that the quality 
of agreeableness is one of the elements of the thought 
as expressed; that is, it is apart of the speaker's utter- 
ance, and as such cannot be eliminated nor ignored in 
the measurement of the thought. It remains, there- 
fore, essentially true that we are to measure even the 
euphonic elements of utterance as elements in the 

Prof. Hepburn says, "So intimate is the connection 
between sound and sense that if we have chosen the 
fitting words, and connected our ideas according to both 
their main and their subordinate relations, our sentences 
will seldom offend the ear. Harmony and melody are 
not so much independent qualities as the natural and 


necessary result of the conformity of language to 
thought and passion. Inharmonious sentences will gen- 
erally be found to be deficient in correctness, clearness, 
precision, or energy. When the logical defects are 
remedied, the disagreeable roughness disappears." 

This is from the rhetorical point of view; and the 
same will hold in vocal expression. In elocution much 
mischief has been done by assuming that sounds have 
a value of their own, apart from the sense. The mouth- 
ing, declaiming and elocutionizing, which have done so 
much to disgust sensible men with the very name "elo- 
cution," have been due largely to this misconception. 
Those who practically follow the advice of the old-time 
elocutionist, "Whenever you speak, use as much voice 
as possible," may well be expected to abuse the deli- 
cate properties of rhythm, euphony, and melody. The 
true interpreter, whose business is with the thought, 
will not, indeed, disregard any factor in its expression; 
but all the details will be wisely subordinated to the 
central purpose. Thus treated, all properties of tone 
and action will be more pleasing and more effective 
than they would be if detached from that purpose, or 
made superior to it. The body is better as a body 
when obeying the purposes of a noble soul. In all 
study, therefore, of qualities both general and special, 
seek to find, first of all, the purposes in the utter- 
ance; not alone the logical and intellectual purposes, 
but as well the imaginative, the emotional, and the 
volitional. These, justly apprehended, will lead to a 


temperate and judicious employment of all the subtler 
properties of utterance, as well as of the more obvious 
and logical. 

Practical Study of Qualities. — Take extended 
passages in poetry and expressive prose, or, still better, 
all the utterances of one person in a scene of a Shakes- 
peare play. Form your judgment as to the general 
character and the particular modifications, and find the 
kind of voice that will best fit the part as a whole. Do 
not be satisfied with having something unusual or 
striking; be sure that your qualities are really interpre- 




O, it is excellent 
To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous 
To use it like a giant. 

— Measure for Measure II., 2. 

General Force as Distinguished from 
Stress. — General force is that fullness, volume, 
abruptness, or intensity which pervades an entire 
passage, rather than that which is heard on separate 
words. It is to stress what melody is to inflection, or 
movement to pause and quantity. 

1. The effect represented by initial stress, when ap- 
plied to a whole sentence or passage, gives an impetu- 
ous or startled expression, heard as a property of the 
whole thought ; as, 

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

This is called general abrupt force. 

2. Take the final stress mood and apply it to utter- 
ances like the following: 

Ah, gentlemen ! that was a dreadful mistake. 
Once again I swear the eternal city shall be free. 

No one particular word gives the insistence. It be- 
longs to the passage as a whole; and the sentence is 
spoken much as if it were one long word, having a 


cumulative, pressing force, which culminates on the last 
element, or on the emphatic one nearest the end. 
This might be called general insistent, or cumulative y 
force. The sign of final stress might be written over 
the entire sentence. 

3. So of median stress. Take this example: 

I appeal to you by the stirring memories of our common histoiy. 

Or these: 

Who does not feel proud of such a record? 
An attitude of dignity should be maintained. 

It is evident that the sentence as a whole has much 
the same apportionment of force as a single word with 
median stress. This would be shown by a swell 
placed above the whole sentence. This might be called 
general expanding or ennobling force. 

4. The thorough stress mood is naturally, perhaps 
necessarily, applied to sentences and passages, rather 
than to words or phrases. It is illustrated in such sen- 
tences as these: 

On, on, you noble English. 
Forward, the light brigade. 

This would be named general sustained force. 

5. Compound stress has no precise analogue in gen- 
eral force; but the mood it represents may be applied 
to long passages, giving the whole a violent, tumultu- 
ous effect; as in: 

Why, I will fight with him upon this theme, 
Until my eyelids will no longer wag. 


This would give general force of violence or rage. 

In these forms of general force, especially final and 
median, emphatic words may be so placed in the sen- 
tence as to favor the effect. Good writers seem to 
recognize this. When composing, especially for oral 
delivery, consult this principle. 

The observance of general force will somewhat tem- 
per the use of pauses. 

Thus: (i) Abrupt force will favor many short pauses. 

(2) Insistent force will generally employ few pauses. 

(3) Expanding force will have comparatively few pauses, 
but will have a somewhat decided pause after the cli- 
max of the sentence: this answers closely to the caesura 
in verse. See examples above. (4) General sustained 
force will have the pauses few, or very evenly distribu- 
ted; so as not to disturb the evenness of volume, which 
is the characteristic of this form. (5) General violent 
force, on the other hand, may have many marked and 
unexpected pauses, symbolizing the irregular movement 
of the thought which prompts it. 

Examples. — Find or make examples illustrating 
these general applications of force. Write them out, 
placing enlarged sign of force over the entire sentence 
or passage, where it is possible to do so; and train both 
-ear and voice to measure the general effect. 

Remark. — This concise treatment of "general force " seems to be 
-all that is needed in the way of theory. It must not be thought, how- 
ever, that the subject can be dismissed thus briefly. Much practice 
will be required to realize the idea. 




The kind of thought contains potentially its own diction. — Genung* 

A FEW hints may be given regarding the general prop- 
erties of vocal interpretation that fit different styles 
of literary diction. 

1. What Genung and others have called the intel- 
lectual type, embracing the didactic, explanatory, argu- 
mentative, are naturally interpreted by a prevalence of the 
intellectual elements of delivery, namely, the deliberative 
and discriminative. In so far as it is mainly perceptive,, 
the expression will depend mainly upon the groupings 
— the arrangement of phrases, clauses, sentences, and 
paragraphs, with the most simple colorings, on the com- 
paratively mechanical principle of mere reception. In 
proportion to the prevalence of the logical element, as in 
reasoning, discussing, comparing, arguing, the vocal 
interpretation will be colored by the properties of 
intonation that measure discrimination; inflection will 
be the distinguishing element in the vocal interpre- 
tation. This will, of course, be associated with group- 
ings, as in the more simply intellective, but this stage 
marks a decided progress upon the former. 

Fine examples of these types are found in such 
essays as those of Macaulay, Carlyle, Emerson. 


2. The imaginative in literature necessarily 
touches the (Esthetic sense, while it also greatly stim- 
ulates the powers of comparison. All such figures as 
metaphor, simile, allusion, allegory, personification, — 
all those which are based upon some idea of resem- 
blance, — necessarily awaken the sense of discrimination. 
This combination of intellectual discernment and aes- 
thetic satisfaction prescribes for the vocal expression 
a corresponding blending of inflection and " tone- 
colors," or qualities. The inflection will lose, however, 
much of its bold, angular, logical property; it will 
be softened, rounded, made more versatile and vivid, 
under the color of emotionality. The emotionality, on 
the other hand, will be saved from sentimentality by* 
the healthy activity of the imagination and the fancy. 
Much of the most companionable humor, much of the 
most comfortable and stimulating in literature, is of 
this type; and artistic interpretation for social or public 
entertainment legitimately draws very largely upon 
this field. We may briefly say that the properties of 
discrimination and sympathy fit the vocal artist to 
interpret imaginative works. 

Examples. — Poetry will, of course, furnish abund- 
ant examples of this type; and in prose rich illustra- 
tions may be found in Dickens, Thackeray, Hawthorne, 
Ruskin, and many others. 

3. The impassioned type welds emotion to 
purpose. From the vantage ground of an informed 
intellect, a stimulated reason, an exalted imagination, 


and a thoroughly warmed emotion, it brings the 
impulse of a masterly will to bear upon motive, con- 
science, purpose, action, in the listener. This is the 
noblest type of human speech; it is the climax of 
expression. Its crystallized products are left us in cli- 
macteric passages of great orations. It is not, how- 
ever, an achievement of the past alone; every genera- 
tion needs the sway of oratory, and in some measure 
realizes its power and reaps its glorious fruits. In 
interpreting this form of literature, we have need of all 
the elements of vocal expression, because oratory 
draws upon all the powers of the man. Its supreme 
element, however, is its volitionality; and the dis- 
tinguishing power of oratorical delivery is in the 
impact, often concealed or modified, usually unobtru- 
sive, yet pervasive, vitalizing, — felt rather than heard 
or seen, — the impact of will upon will. To redeem this 
element of volitionality in the delivery from mere 
declamation, cant, or bombast, the orator must have 
full possession of all his intellectual powers, of his 
discernment, imagination, emotion; and all these must 
be constantly varying, always in a plastic condition, 
never set or rigid, mobile but powerful, and always 
dominated by the central purpose and the supreme will 
of the speaker. Every fibre of the body, every thought 
of the mind, must be brought into perfect subordina- 
tion to the great end to be achieved — persuasion. The 
greatest freedom in both voice and gesture must be 
realized, but this freedom will never become lawless- 


ness or extravagance. The orator will be at liberty 
to make any excursion without digressing; he will be 
instructive, but not didactic; discriminative, but not 
pedantic; emotional, but not sentimental; volitionally 
powerful without domineering. 

Examples. — Let typical passages be found and 
studied. But few words need be said in regard to 
other forms of discourse. The three types already 
treated constitute the great bulk of reasonable, sober 
utterance. The colloquial style will prescribe its own 
delivery on the principles of a dignified conversation, 
in which a versatile discrimination and a genial sympa- 
thy will prevail. 

4. Dialectic reading and Impersonation must 
largely prescribe their own rules, with this one sugges- 
tion: the reader should always seek to catch the genius, 
the spirit, the personal, provincial, or racial quality of 
mind shadowed in the dialect or the character, rather 
than seek the mere tricks of imitation or the reproduc- 
tion of some peculiarity of intonation, pronunciation, 
or facial expression. 

Impersonation executed on this higher plane of 
real interpretation may be truly artistic, and may afford 
not only healthful entertainment, but also much of in- 

Expression and Memory. — In connection with 
this most practical work of expressional analysis as 
giving immediate preparation for delivery, a few 


words ought to be said on memorizing; and especially 
in its relations to the study of expression. The mem- 
ory ought not to be a mere storehouse, it should be 
one of the links in a chain of logical sequences. The 
memory should not be used in a cold and mechanical 
way; above all, the voice should not be used as a mem- 
ory-machine. Every item in the thought and its ex- 
pression should be so rationalized and so vivified that 
the memory shall be at once logical, imaginative, or 
picturesque, and phonic, or vocal. That is, every part 
of the thought as tittered should be so connected with 
the means of expression, that the one will readily and 
surely call up the .other. This power and this habit 
can be acquired. 

Minds differ greatly in their aptitudes and habits, but 
all, or nearly all, may gain advantage from a method of 
analysis with memorizing, such as the following: 

1. Study the selection or the passage in its Unity; 
find the point of view, the central thought, and the 
general style of the diction. This will best be expressed 
in a summarizing condensative paraphrase. 

2. Find the Main Divisions, and note particu- 
larly the change in mood, or dominant purpose. Each 
division will naturally have a somewhat fuller para- 
phrase, approaching the properties of an abstract* 
Many of the words and phrases of the text may be 
used here, but they will be the most suggestive key- 

3. If the selection is a long one, or if the sub- 


divisions are many, and are logically distinguishable, 
make a more minute analysis by Paragraphs, being 
sure to find the particular and distinctive thought, 
image, or feeling in each, and to measure nicely its 
picturesque, discriminative, emotional, or energetic sig- 
nificance. This measurement will be mentally marked 
by some exact key-word, or by some item in the panto- 
mimic expression. This stage of the analysis may in- 
clude specially important sentences. 

4. Study the Coloring* of each division, paragraph, 
or sentence. Ponder its pantomimic expression. Ac- 
tion, mentally rendered, gives to the thought a concrete 
quality, which immeasurably aids the memory. Think 
the thoughts in their symbolisms of movement, pause, 
transitional lightness, and propositional weight; in 
their rhythms, tone-qualities, and especially in their 
melodies, the mental diagramming of which will stamp 
the contents upon the mind. 

Reformulate and revivify the thought; ab- 
sorb and assimilate it in its expressional bearings. Get 
the thought not "by memory," but "by heart." 

This method may at first seem difficult to acquire, 
■and may for a few trials consume more time than the 
childish process of "learning by rote"; but the more 
rational method of logical and expressional memory 
Avill soon justify itself by its accelerating speed, as well 
as by the rational satisfaction it will yield. 




Gesture is the direct agent of the soul, while language is analytic 
and successive. . . . Gesture is superior to each of the languages, 
because it embraces the constituent parts of our being. — Delsarte* 

GESTURE, in the broad sense, is any significant action 
of any part of the body, or of the body as a whole. 
Its office is to express or intimate ideas additional to 
those contained in the accompanying words. If the 
gesture represents only the same ideas as the language, 
it will either be redundant, or make the figure of rhe- 
torical repetition, w r hich is often allowable. 

True gesture is, thus, not merely an accompaniment, 
but a part of complete expression. Its object is not 
merely to adorn, but to assist the utterance. It seeks 
primarily, not grace, but expressiveness. Grace and 
ease are, indeed, valuable properties, just as rhythm 
and melody and euphony are in language; but as lan- 
guage does not exist for the sake of these agreeable 
or aesthetic properties, but for the thought which it may 
express, so does gesture. Pantomimic expression is as 
really a language as is vocal expression. It is the first in 
order of time, being used effectively and intelligently 
by children before they learn verbal language. It is 
used also by all expressive natures in connection with 
verbal language, and often in preference to it. It also 


comes before verbal language in any particular sen- 
tence; that is, the expression of eye, head, hand, 
shoulders, or trunk, precedes the expression in words. 

Proofs of Relation of Gesture to Thought. 

I. We naturally observe it, and interpret words in 
part by it. For example, one says, "I shall not go." 
The words alone reveal simply the action of the judg- 
ment, or intellect. Moreover, they give simply the 
conclusion reached; but when we hear these words 
spoken, we do not receive simply this intellectual con- 
clusion. We mark the attitude of the body, the car- 
riage of the head, the inclination of the eye, the action, 
if any, of the hand, arm, or shoulder, accompanying 
the words. Thus, when one says, " I shall not go," 
standing firmly upon the back foot, with the front leg 
firmly set, the head slightly back, the neck and shoul- 
ders firm, we interpret the action as that of resistance; 
and we add to the words, " I shall not go," some such 
comment as this: I stand upon my own rights and rely 
on my own will. There is no power that can compel 
me to go. Again, if the same words were uttered by 
a person standing in a careless and easy position, the 
weight perhaps balanced upon both feet spread wide 
apart, arms akimbo, head a little inclined to one side, 
shoulders dropped, we add the idea of indifference; and 
we make his four words mean something like this: O, 
it doesn't matter at all to me; I shall not fret myself 
about it; it is not worth while to go. The same words 


might be interpreted in perhaps a dozen different ways. 
Any one quoting them would ordinarily be justified in 
adding those adverbs or supplementary clauses which 
the gesture and action should virtually introduce into 
the sentence. 

2. In conversation we frequently inquire as to the 
action, and do not feel certain as to the speaker's real in- 
tent or attitude, until we know the pantomimic expres- 
sion which accompanied the verbal. 

3. Literature often makes description of action an 
essential part of delineation of character. Verify this 
by examination of passages in Scott, Dickens, Haw r - 
thorne, George Eliot, and others. 

4. We employ it instinctively. Nature thus seems 
to claim gesture as one of her favorite channels for com- 

Subjective Properties of Action. — These are 
such as reveal the attitude, mood, or relation of the 
speaker toward the thought or toward those addressed. 
They consist chiefly in those bearings and attitudes of 
the body which depend upon the position and action 
of the feet, and those in which the position of the head 
is the prominent characteristic. The position of shoul- 
ders and chest also sensitively indicates subjective con- 
ditions. These subjective conditions regard, chiefly, 
the emotional and volitional attitudes of the speaker. 
For practical study recur to the different paragraphs in 
the chapters on Emotion and Energy. 

Objective Properties of Gesture. — These in- 


dicate some position or quality of the object described, 
or some relation of the truth presented. Such ob- 
jective properties are, for example: nearness or remote- 
ness, smallness or vastness, location and motion. 
These objective properties are most naturally expressed 
by movements of the body, particularly of the eye and 

The objective properties, those concerned in locating, 
measuring, describing, etc., are expressed chiefly by the 
arm and hand; such action constitutes gesticulation, as 
opposed to bearing and the more general pantomimic 

As related to the rhetorical properties of delivery, 
and as dependent upon literary interpretation, the sub- 
ject of gesture is here introduced thus briefly for the 
sake of showing its connection with the general princi- 
ples of language and of expression. The bearing and 
the gesture give the general conception of the thought, 
which is specifically explained by the accompanying 
words. All gesture is thus essentially figurative lan- 
guage. It presents to the mind the general image of 
the thing described or of the personal attitude repre- 
sented. It figures forth, in the most economical and 
direct way, that which verbal language must show much 
more indirectly and expensively. 

Gestures, as figurative language, may be broadly di- 
vided into four classes. 

I . Gestures giving literal or physical representation; 
such as measurements of length, height, indications of 


literal shape and extent, or of literal movement — ges- 
tures of space. 

2. Those conveying metaphorical representation; as 
of ideas akin to the sense of height, depth, extent,, 
rapidity or slowness, aversion, inclination, etc. 

3. Gestures of ideal presence ; representing an ab- 
stract idea or an absent person or object as seen before 
the speaker. Here the rhetorical sense of the figure of 
vision is typified by the speaker in directing his eyes to 
the imagined object or person. 

Remark. — This is the only class of gestures requiring or admitting 
the accompanying action of the eye ; and here the eye should never 
"follow," as is so often directed, but should invariably precede the ac- 
tion of the arm and hand. 

4. Gestures of emotion, energy, or intensity. These are. 
analogous to "figures of emphasis" in Rhetoric, such 
as exclamation, repetition, interrogation, and the like.. 
They accompany the words, and reinforce, rather than 
illustrate, their meaning. Gestures of this class will 
prevail in impassioned utterances, and will ofcen obviate 
the necessity of verbal repetitions. 

Examples. — All of these should be fully illustrated 
in original and selected passages. 

Pantomimic Paraphrase. — One of the most 
useful things a student can do is to translate words 
into action, or pantomimic expression. Take, for 
example, the four classes just given: 

(1) Literal or Descriptive Gesture. — Take any vivid 
description or word-painting, and, without speaking any 


of the words, represent the whole scene or narrative in 
pantomime. The purpose will be, first, to gain a 
fresher and more vivid impression of the scene described 
or the thought conveyed; and, secondly, to acquire 
ease and spontaneity in gesture. 

For this practice take at first such selections as 
Webster's description of the murderer's entrance into 
his victim's room, in the speech in the White Murder 
Case; Victor Hugo's description of the loosened can- 
non on the vessel's deck in " '93"; " The Wreck of the 
Hesperus," by Longfellow; the chariot race in " Ben 
Hur," — any passage that is mainly descriptive, and in 
which there is vivid and rapidly changing imagery. 

Afterward study selections that employ less of phys- 
ical imagery, and more of metaphorical significance; 
those in which different attitudes of the mind — varying 
intellectual, emotional, and volitional conditions — may 
be typified in changes of bearing or gesture. For this 
use the speeches in " Julius Caesar " are especially favor- 
able. Find also good extracts in many orations, such 
as that on " Idols," by Wendell Phillips; the " Reply 
to Haine," by Daniel Webster; the " Eulogy on Lafay- 
ette," by Edward Everett: such poems as " Robert 
of Sicily," by Longfellow; "The Prisoner for Debt," 
by Whittier; and " The Vision of Sir Launfal," by 

(2) Purely Metaphorical Gestures. — These will require 
much more discernment, a much more careful measure- 
ment of the thought. Obliging yourself to express the 


metaphor in pantomime, when it is possible to do so, 
will make the image bright and vivid to your own 
thought; and will in turn give a reality and expressive- 
ness to the action, which nothing else can secure. Take 
such passages as the following, study the metaphori- 
cal sense of the imagery, and then try to represent it 
in pantomimic language: " My Soul and I," by Whit- 
tier; " The Flood of Years," by Bryant; " The Present 
Crisis," by Lowell; " The Builders," and " Sandalphon," 
by Longfellow; "Sleep," by Mrs. Browning; " The 
Lost Chord," by Miss Proctor. Take also strong 
figurative passages in speeches, as that of Patrick 
Henry on " Resistance to British Aggression" ; Grattan's 
" Reply to Mr. Cony " ; and almost any impassioned ora- 
tion. Find also extracts from more quiet and less no- 
ticeable works, which contain expressive figures of 
speech, especially metaphors and similes; and translate 
these into pantomime. 

(3) Ideal Presence. — Rhetorical figures of ideal pres- 
ence are among the most graphic, and will be as easy 
as any class to express in pantomime. The tendency 
will perhaps be to employ them too freely. The 
speaker must always judge carefully as to whether the 
purpose of the sentence is primarily the bringing up of 
an absent or invisible object to sight, or the enforce- 
ment of some thought upon his listeners. 

Passages illustrating^this property are the following 
from Edward Everett: ideal presence, in its simplest 
form, assuming the object to be before the speaker, and 


using often the present tense, is found in the Eulogy 
on Lafayette in the paragraph containing these words: 

Before you stretches the broad expanse of York River, an arm of 
Chesapeake Bay. 

Also in one of the closing paragraphs, containing 
this sentence: 

You have hung these venerable arches, for the second time since their 
erection, with the sable badges of sorrow. 

The figure of vision, in which the speaker declares 
himself to be witnessing, in imagination, the scene he 
is describing, is finely illustrated in that memorable 
paragraph in " The First Settlement of New Eng- 
land/' beginning: 

" Methinks I see it now, that one solitary, adventurous vessel, the 
Mayflower of a forlorn hope," etc. 

Apostrophe, as the name suggests, will be most 
naturally expressed in action, by turning from the audi- 
ence, for the time, to address the imaginary auditor 
figuratively introduced. There will often be no gesture, 
the change of posture and of face being sufficient. Find 
a good case of this figure in Everett's Eulogy on Adams 
and Jefferson, the passage beginning: 

Tell me, ye who tread the sods of yon sacred height, is Warren dead? 
Can you not still see him, not pale and prostrate, the blood of his gal- 
lant heart pouring out of his ghastly wounds, but moving resplendent 
over the field of honor, with the rose of heaven upon his cheek, and 
the fire of liberty in his eye? 

Legitimate cases of ideal presence may be found in 
such passages as the following: Dr. Nott's Sermon on 
the Death of Alexander Hamilton, Blaine's Eulogy on 


Garfield, Everett's description of the death of Coperni- 
cus, Longfellow's " Sunrise on the Hills," Tennyson's 
" The Lady of Shalott." For purposes of occasional 
drill the mind may be allowed to dwell exclusively 
upon the imagery, and make it ideally present. The 
beneficial results will appear when this property is 
tempered into its proper relations to the other elements 
of delivery. The action and the utterance will have 
gained in vividness and spontaneity. 

(4) Intensity. — Here, as already said, the gesture 
either repeats or supplements the words; it may suggest 
adjectives, adverbs, and not infrequently clauses, or 
even entire propositions. 

Take a sentence and speak it with different kinds of 
gesture and action, showing how r the action supplements 
the words. Translate, as nearly as possible, the action 
into its equivalent words. Write these verbal equiva- 
lents as interlined expansions, according to the models 
already given. After so paraphrasing and expanding, 
take the original text and re-translate the expansions 
into gestures. Let the following serve as simple ex- 

Be prepared to hear. 

I had as lief not be, as live to be in awe of such a thing as I myself- 

I know where I will wear this dagger then. 

Brutus, bay me not; I'll not endure it. 

Take, also, almost any of the examples given under 
Emotion and Energy. 




To man, propose this test — 
Thy body at its best, 
How far can that project thy soul on its lone way? 

— Browning. 

In all art-work there are two essential factors: first, 
the mental, second, the physical. There must be a 
conception in the mind, and then some way of express- 
ing that conception. Thus, every art must have its 
materials of representation. In Elocution the mental, 
or spiritual, conceptions consist in the measurements of 
thought and relations of thought, which we have traced 
somewhat through the purposes in utterance. The 
restatement, expansion, condensation, illustration, and 
all other forms of modification designed to give the 
speaker himself a fresher momentary realization of the 
purposes in the utterance, have accompanied every 
stage in the analysis thus far, under the name of para- 
phrase. The mental part of the work of expression is 
thus embraced under these two leading terms, purpose 
and paraphrase. These constitute the rhetorical prep- 
aration for utterance; but these alone are not sufficient 
to convey thought in all its relations and in all its emo- 
tional and energetic properties. There must be a 
physical medium for communication. Such medium 
consists mainly in the properties of tone which we have 


considered; as, time, pitch, quality, and force, under 
the forms of movement, rhythm, inflection, melody, 
qualities general and special, general force and stress. 
It remains to show the connection between these 
rhetorical properties of utterance and special cultiva- 
tion of the voice. 

Every one has used his voice from infancy; and it is 
natural to assume that the action which has become 
habitual is the normal, or natural, action. This, how- 
ever, is often far from the truth. We must always 
discriminate between the natural and the habitual. 
The natural is that which works in accordance 
with the laws' of nature, and which justifies 
itself by the results of ease, durability, suita- 
bility, and unobtrusiveness of action. 

The normal action of the voice has been intimated 
in connection with the normal state of the emotions. 
It is that which constitutes the pure tone. The action 
of the different parts of the vocal apparatus according 
to the prescriptions of nature, and the establishment of 
such action and of the normal conditions upon which 
it depends, by the use of definite and systematic exer- 
cises,— this constitutes vocal technique. 

While it is true that there can be no really expressive 
utterance without an approximately normal vocal ac- 
tion, it is true, on the other hand, that the vocal tech- 
nique itself will best be developed and established under 
the guidance of the rhetorical spirit; that is, the spirit 
of genuine and untrammeled communication. 












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All the special exercises included in the accompany- 
ing vocal chart may be thought of in connection with 
the different moods of utterance. The exercises, while 
primarily physical, and designed specially to secure the 
right technical action of the parts, may yet be varied 
so as to fit the different moods of utterance; and they 
may be more intelligently practiced after the study of 
these expressional moods than before. This is true 
especially of the practical studies in sentences and par- 
agraphs, which close each list of exercises. 

Some further explanation may render more intelligi- 
ble the directions for the discipline of each organ. 

It is important to keep constantly in mind all parts 
of the vocal apparatus, in order to avoid ruts and hob- 
bies. The proper action of any one part alone will not 
secure good vocalization. All the parts are mutually 

In a system of voice culture we might commence 
with any one of the organs. Practically, it is perhaps 
most advantageous to begin with the development of 
the chest. 

I. The Chest performs a double office. It acts as 
an automatic bellows, and also as a resonance-chamber. 
The second office is practically the more important of 
the two. This indicates the necessity for securing per- 
fect openness. The air column is thus deepened and 
broadened; and, being held approximately quiet during 
speech, this enlarged air-chamber reinforces the vibra- 
tions of the vocal chords, much as the body of the 


violin enhances the vibrations generated by the string. 
It is the greatest mistake to treat the chest as merely a 
bellows. The purity as well as depth, resonance, and 
volume of the tone depends upon the skill with which 
the vocal chords and articulating organs play upon this 
quiet air-chamber. Such action produces musical 
(regular and periodic) vibrations. Such vibrations have 
the strongest transmitting power. The tone, as it were, 
radiates — it is propagated, rathe?' than propelled. The 
action by which such tone is produced depends upon 
skill rather than muscular strength. The greatest effort 
is put forth by the inspiratory muscles, not the expira- 
tory; the labor and skill both being directed to the 
problem of holding, during the utterance, the greatest 
practicable amount of approximately quiet air, which 
tends to expel itself by the natural contraction of the 
air-cells. The air-chamber thus becomes at the same 
time an automatic bellows and the great body of the 
tone-producing instrument. 

The physical sensations accompanying such use of 
the voice are most agreeable, producing a sense of 
activity without exertion; giving a buoyant, fresh, 
inspiring, enlivening sense, which well fits the normal 
attitude for communication. It is both cause and effect 
of such normal expressional mood. 

1. Poise. — This is vital in all vocal action, because 
without it there can be no free breathing. If the 
body is out of balance, all parts of the chest and waist 
will be in some measure constricted, thus destroying 


resonance, both by reducing the amount of air received 
into the lungs, and by preventing the vibration of the 
walls of the body, which form a part of the resonance- 

In securing poise, stand first on both feet, with the 
weight well toward the ball. "Let the hips be directly 
under the shoulders. A straight line should pass 
through the center of ear, shoulder, hip, knee, and in- 
step." Standing in position, rise elastically toward the 
toe, without any swaying of the body forward or side- 
wise. Each time the body rises, inhale deeply and 

2. Stretching of Chest. — Place the back of one hand 
just below the shoulders, with fingers of the other a 
little below the collar bone. Let the chest collapse, or 
fall in. Stretch against both hands, expanding the 
body in a diagonal line; outward and upward, down- 
ward and backward. 

The object in this exercise is twofold. First, it is 
designed to secure dignity and ease of bearing; and, 
second, to prepare for full respiration. 

3. Arm Movements. — (a) Drawing back. Extend 
both arms forward on a level with the shoulders, fingers 
extended, palms down. Turning the palms up and 
clenching the hands, draw the arms slowly and firmly 
backward until the fists reach the shoulders. Be care- 
ful that the back does not hollow more than is inevita- 
ble, and that the body does not lose its perfect poise. 
Repeat this exercise elastically and rhythmically, part 


of the time rising to the toe as the arms are drawn 
backward. Be careful also to breathe deeply, and by 
power of will expand the waist and back. 

(b) Setting back. Place the hands in front of the 
chest, palms outward; clenching the hands, pass them 
around in the arc of a circle, until they come in line 
with the shoulders, or, if possible, pass back of that 

Here there will be great danger of mechanically hol- 
lowing the back; prevent this by volitional expansion 
of the torso. As in (#), rise rhythmically and elasti- 
cally to the toe during a part of the exercise. 

(c) Spreading. Extend the arms in front on a level 
with the shoulder, touching finger-tips. Rising to the 
toe, spread the arms outward until they come upon a 
line with the shoulders, or, if possible, farther back- 
ward, even so as to touch the backs of the hands to- 
gether. As before, be careful to expand the torso, and 
prevent needless hollowing of the back. Be careful 
also that the hips do not sway forward when you rise. 
Move in a straight line upward, keeping perfect poise. 
Let there be no stiffness of the limbs or body. All must 
be firm, but perfectly elastic. Part of the time, in con- 
nection with the spreading, step forward, first in " ani- 
mation," then in full " explosion," lengthening the step 
till you secure the greatest stretch of the whole frame 
that is consistent with perfect comfort. 

4. Special Expansion of Parts. — (a) Diaphragm. 
Place the ends of the fingers just over the pit of the 


stomach, between the floating ribs; push inward, ex- 
haling; usually blow out through the lips. Exhaust 
the chest measurably, and you will perceive that the 
diaphragm has receded and moved upward. Now hold 
the shoulders and upper chest perfectly still, refill your 
lungs by bearing out upon your fingers. You will feel 
the diaphragm return downward and outward. Repeat 
this several times with slow breathings; then, as a mere 
muscular exercise without regard to breath, gain sepa- 
rate control of the diaphragm muscle. Remember that 
the diaphragm itself is, first and chiefly, an inspiratory 
muscle. Its action deepens the chest, assisting in the 
drawing and retaining of a full breath. It is not the 
office of the diaphragm, directly, to expel the air. When 
drawn downward and held somewhat tense, the dia- 
phragm becomes a part of the resonance-apparatus, 
somewhat analogous to the lower drum-head. 

Practice this action of the diaphragm, sometimes 
rapidly changing, and sometimes holding it for a few 
seconds, until it becomes an easy and agreeable exer- 
cise. The result will be an increase in depth, reso- 
nance, and elasticity of tone. Make no jerky, violent 
motion, and stop before any lameness or great weari- 
ness results. 

(b) Upper Chest. Place the tips of the fingers a 
little below the collar-bone, about the second or third 
rib, holding the shoulders, waist, and back quiet. Bear 
out against your fingers, inhaling all you can, until the 
chest is carried out to its fullest extent. Let it slowly 


recede, emptying the chest as nearly as possible. Re- 
peat this process several times with an elastic but full 
action. Continue this practice many times a day, un- 
til it becomes easy and habitual to carry the chest well 

(V) Sides. Place the hands upon the floating ribs, 
thumbs backward: holding all other parts as still as 
possible, push out against your hands, allowing the 
lungs to fill as much as they can. Mechanically push 
in upon the ribs and let the breath escape. Again 
push out, and continue the practice until you can, at 
will, expand at this point elastically and fully. 

(d) Back. Place the hands upon the sides as in (V); 
but with the thumbs now pointing forward, and the 
fingers passing backward around the body, till their 
tips nearly or quite touch each other. Now mechan- 
ically press in upon the body while expelling the 
breath through the lips. When the lungs are emp- 
tied (as nearly as they can be in this way), hold all other 
parts of the body as quiet as possible, and push out 
against your fingers. Repeat, and practice as in the 
other cases. 

The purpose in first making these separate expan- 
sions is, by giving the entire will-power to each one at 
a time, to gain perfect control over that particular part. 
The result will be that the chest will soon come to 
expand in all directions symmetrically and 
easily, and will be able to remain in this expanded con- 
dition during a reasonable sentence, say ten to twenty 


words. The gain will be apparent in increased fullness 
and ease of tone, as well as in repose of bearing. 

5. Chest Percussion. — Use this exercise moderately, 
and at first even cautiously. Filling the entire chest, 
hold it open for a few seconds, while you pat all parts 
of the chest with elastic and rhythmic strokes of the 
finger-tips. Let the wrists be perfectly relaxed, and 
depend more upon a great number of light strokes than 
upon a few heavy ones. A strong man may gradually 
become able to endure hard raps upon any part of the 
chest. This is, however, not necessary for the cultiva- 
tion of the voice, and is not here recommended. 

6. Breathings, slow and rapid. — (a) Slow. Place 
the hands upon the sides, fingers front, holding the 
shoulders still; expand the chest fully in all directions 
during a short time, say five or six seconds; then, dur- 
ing about an equal period, gradually diminish the chest 
and expel the breath. By practice this exercise may 
be gradually increased in length until you can easily 
hold the breath from twenty-five to fifty seconds. 

(J?) Rapid. Fill the lungs as quickly as possible, 
making a complete expansion of the chest. After hold- 
ing an instant, exhale as quickly as possible, nearly 
exhausting them. The exhalation may be mechan- 
ically assisted by pushing in the walls of the chest. 
This quick breathing is to be practiced very moder- 
ately, and in case of delicate persons may often better 
be entirely omitted. 

7. Counting. — For the merest mechanical vocaliza- 


tion, numerals are as good as anything. Place the 
hands on the sides, fingers front, upper chest well out, 
standing in poise, shoulders quiet, stretch the waist un- 
til you have a fairly full breath; count, at moderate speed, 
with distinct articulation, the numerals up to twenty. 
For the first twelve or fifteen there should be no per- 
ceptible diminution in the size of the waist. During 
the latter part of the breath the ribs will gradually fall 
in, and the diaphragm gradually retreat upward. It is 
not best to exhaust the chest completely. In practical 
speaking the chest is never empty during the utterance 
of a sentence. Sometimes at close of paragraphs, and 
usually at transitions, there may be a total change for 
an instant, the chest relaxing completely; but return- 
ing to w T hat is called the "active" condition, as soon 
as another sentence begins. 

The counting exercises may be gradually extended, 
until forty, fifty, or more numerals are spoken in one 
breath. There is no great virtue in being able to count 
the greatest number. People will differ greatly in 
length of breath. The essential thing is that the chest 
be trained to stay firmly but easily open, and that 
this condition shall last somewhat longer than will 
practically be required in ordinary speaking or reading; 
because if the greater can be done with ease, the less 
will do itself. 

8. Sentences and Passages. — Having secured the 
right mechanical condition and technical action by pre- 
vious exercises, apply this now to the utterance of 


actual thoughts and sentiments. In this part of the 
study the connection of technical development with 
rhetorical measurement may be made to appear. 

The voice has in general two elements, or, there are 
two general parts of the apparatus; the one muscular, 
generating vibrations, and the other resonant, reinforc- 
ing, modifying, shaping, coloring these vibrations. The 
first imparts to the tone force, energy, and is expres- 
sive of the will; the second imparts quality, or color, 
and is expressive of the sensibilities. The fine shadings 
thus imparted afford means for the most sensitive meas- 
urement of those subtile elements of imagination, emo- 
tion, and volition, which the human voice is so wonder- 
fully adapted to express. This remarkable power of 
expression is revealed in the structure of the organs. 
In the voice we find a combination — found in no man- 
ufactured instrument — of expansible and variable res- 
onators, together with great variability in .the muscu- 
lar, or generating, parts themselves. The resonance- 
chambers can be made relatively larger or smaller; 
also the muscular part can be made relatively tenser or 
more soft. This latter difference has its analogies in 
some of the instruments, especially in the violin, where 
different tension of the bow favors different qualities in 
the tone. The analogy would be closer if at the same 
time the body of the instrument could vary in the size 
of its air-chambers and in the tensity and vibratility 
of its walls. 


Adaptation of the Elements of Vocality to 
the 3Ioocls of Utterance. 

1. Deliberative Matter of the various kinds requires 
precisely the condition which the chest exercises are 
designed to secure. When one mind addresses another 
mind with the intent of presenting or unfolding ideas, 
or of informing the intellect, the mental attitude is 
best symbolized by that physical condition which brings 
the greatest ease, self-possession, self-forgetfulness, and 
the most normal and unobtrusive vocal action. By 
this is meant that in the mood of deliberation there 
shall be nothing to call special attention to the speaker 
as making any effort to be understood. Xow the 
most important technical element in this easy and auto- 
matic vocal action is the full, elastic chest. What is 
said here will apply to all the other elements of vocali- 
zation, but is perhaps specially noticeable in connection 
with the breathing. Observe its application to the 
three varieties of deliberative matter. 

For examples the student is referred to the corre- 
sponding points in the earlier portion of the work. 

(a) Introductory. — The truly introductory attitude 
always implies that some preparatory consideration is 
presented to the mind of the listener, and, as prepara- 
tory, it must not laboriously or too pointedly call at- 
tention to the thing said at the moment. Just here is 
one of the greatest weaknesses of public speakers. A 
great amount of physical energy on the part of the 
speaker, and of nervous energy on the part of the listener, 


is often wasted in merely introductory matter. There 
should always be such spontaneity, such natural, agree- 
able action of the voice, as will set both speaker and 
listener perfectly at ease, and so prepare for the pas- 
sages which may require more effort. 

It will be important here to observe what has been 
said with regard to rhythm. An unrhythmical utter- 
ance is always laborious. The particular character of 
the introduction will indicate the kind of rhythm to be 
employed. All the previous exercises for development 
of the chest, though essentially mechanical, may be more 
or less rhythmical; and when we come to drill on 
sentences and passages, the rhythm must be specially 

(b) Propositional Matter. Here there is more of 
weight and volume in the utterance. As we have seen, 
it is not energetic in the technical sense; that is, it 
does not bear directly upon the will, and especially it 
does not reveal any purpose on the part of the speaker 
to move the will. The intensity and fullness of the 
utterance, therefore, must be of this automatic and 
unobtrusive kind. The listener must feel that the 
thought is weighty in itself, and not that the speaker is 
attempting to make it such. Now this measurement 
of the thought as propositional may be in the speaker's 
mind, and yet his design may be utterly thwarted by a 
forced, mechanical, laborious utterance. It is abso- 
lutely vital to the true rhetorical interpretation of prop- 
ositional matter, that the body of the tone itself be 


such as to give a sense of weight and importance. It 
must have an easy and spontaneous fullness. 

(c) Transitional Matter. The rhetorical significance 
of a transition indicates always some change in the 
weight of the thought; that which merely connects 
being always less important than the things connected. 
Here a right government of breath and of the volume 
of tone depending thereon will obviously be the techni- 
cal requisite for expressive utterance. 

Recur to the examples in the chapter on deliberation, 
and practice them with special reference to the control 
of breath through the chest conditions here described. 
Add many other examples, original and selected. Care- 
fully measure the fullness and volume of the tone; and 
be very sure to avoid mechanical effort in any case of 
deliberative matter. 

2. Discriminative Matter. — In the broadest sense 
discrimination, as we have seen, is the pointing out of 
relations, particularly of contrasts. While inflection is 
the agent in particular and minute applications, every 
other element in the utterance may, in its place, assist 
in the expression of discrimination. Differences of 
volume, depth, and intensity, may often be the most 
effective means of opposing one element to another* 
This is notably true in antithesis, when a negative idea 
is opposed to a positive, the negative member naturally 
taking a lighter and thinner tone; the positive, a fuller 
and deeper. Refer to examples under Discrimination 
and, in connection with the proper inflections, study 


this element of volume, as developed in the chest ex- 

3. Emotion. — Emotion is directly and most sensi- 
tively connected with chest conditions. This fact led 
the ancients to place the soul, or seat of emotions, in 
the region of the diaphragm. This seems nature's 
automatic gauge of emotion. 

(a) Simply Normal feeling will express itself with a 
reasonably full and not greatly distended chest, and 
will employ an action that is the result of previous 
expansions, rather than the attendant of a present 
effort to expand. 

(/?) Enlarged, ennobled or deepened feeling will be 
attended with a present, and often conscious, expansion 
of the chest, and seemingly of the whole frame. The 
philosophy of this is hinted at in our word " aspira- 
tion." When one aspires to something high and 
worthy, his soul is filled with the appreciation of that 
object, and symbolically he fills his breast, as if draw- 
ing into himself, or breathing in, the thing to which he 
aspires. This is doubtless the fact underlying many 
expressions of the sacred writers; such as the following: 

"I opened my mouth, and panted: for I longed for 
thy commandments." — Ps. cxix. 131. 

" As the hart panteth for the water-brooks, so pant- 
eth my soul for thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for 
God, for the living God: When shall I come and appear 
before God?"— Ps. xlii. 2. 

In the last example, the figure of thirst further illus- 


trates this point. As the satisfaction of thirst fills one 
deeply and exhilaratingly, so does the gratification of a 
cherished desire, or the imagined enjoyment of a noble 
and lofty exercise. All this indicates the vital con- 
nection between the rhetorical spirit in its noblest 
exercise and the thoroughly trained exponent of the 

(c) Abnormal feeling. Suppression, oppression, se- 
verity, tremulousness, are all vitally connected with the 
breathing-apparatus. While the physical action that 
expresses these abnormal mental states is itself the 
result of an abnormal condition, still such deviation for 
purposes of expression can be safely and effectively 
made only after the natural action is understood and 

Perfect technical control of the breath will be found 
as necessary in these abnormal types as in the normal. 
For example, suppression is illustrated, rhetorically, by 
the figure of breathing out; as, 

"Saul yet breathing out threatenings and slaughter 
against the disciples of the Lord." — Acts xix. 1. 

Shylock, hissing out his hatred, illustrates this, when 
he savs, aside: 

"These be the Christian husbands." — Mer. Veil. IV. f i. 

Here, obviously, we have uncontrolled breath, phys- 
ically speaking; but rhetorically it must be managed 
from the point of control. 

Again, take oppressed feeling, as in the muffled or 
shuddering sound of the pectoral quality. This also, 


in order to be rhetorically expressive, must first be 
technically mastered; and the chief element in the 
technical control will be full, deep breathing. 

The stern or hard tone, as previously said, does not 
depend alone upon the changed condition of the throat. 
Severity may be mingled with a certain nobility of self- 
respect; in that case we must have the full and well 
controlled breath to support it. In meaner or more 
malicious uses, there will be corresponding changes in 
the breath element. 

The tremulous or agitated tone will depend, princi- 
pally, upon the condition of the breath. Physically, a 
laugh and a sigh are closely akin. In either case, there 
is an interrupted action of the breathing muscles. 
These agitated feelings can never be fully expressed 
without the right condition of the breathing-apparatus. 
For artistic uses there must be the ability to hold a full 
column of air and yet allow the diaphragm and all 
parts of the chest to partake in the thrilling, shivering, 
throbbing, or bubbling character of the emotion. 

For illustrations of abnormal feeling recur to Chap- 
ters XIII.-XVI. 

4. Energy. — All the types of energetic communica- 
tion will easily be seen to have direct connection with 
the control of breath. 

(a) Abruptness. The prompt, decided, sudden ac- 
tion must have well controlled breath, else it will lose 
all dignity and effect. Moreover, without a good sup- 
port of breath, the suddenness of initial stress will 


prove wearisome, and injurious to the vocal organs. 

(/;) Insistence. Here the cumulation of power es- 
sential to the rhetorical expression will absolutely de- 
mand a full supply of breath. If the chest is exhausted, 
or is poorly controlled, there can be no full final stress. 

(V) Energy of Uplift. Like the emotion of nobility, 
of which it largely partakes, this phase of energy will 
demand such full breathing as to support and swell the 

(d) Energy of Establishment. This will require 
the fullest chest, most evenly held. There must be no 
jerky, thumping motion, else the dignified and exalted 
effect will instantly be destroyed. The best mechanical 
preparation for this type of energy may be secured by 
counting the numerals in a full and evenly sustained 

(e) Energy of Violence or Perturbation. While this 
seems to demand uncontrolled breath, its artistic use 
implies a control. The rider's horse may, indeed, rear 
and plunge; but he is curbed by the skilled hand of his 

Study all types of energy through examples given 
in Chapters XVII.-XXI., with special regard to the con- 
trol of breath. 

Artistic Study. — Art being the combination of 
mental measurements with physical control, it becomes 
obvious that full expression can be prepared only by 
keeping in mind both of these elements, and by focus- 
ing them upon the rendering of varied passages. Let 


there be, first, the accurate and sensitive measurement 
of the significance of the passage; then consider na- 
ture's means for portraying, or symbolizing, that mean- 
ing; then, keeping the thought uppermost, sensitively 
and perseveringly measure in your own voice the phys- 
ical symbol of that spiritual conception. The most 
gratifying results and the most practical outcome of 
the study will be just at this point, at which the mental 
and physical perfectly unite. 

The union of these two elements has been specially 
emphasized in connection with breathing, because this 
comes first in our scheme of technical study, and may 
thus illustrate what is true, in a measure, of all the 
other elements. Another reason for specially develop- 
ing this thought here is this: the breath is, of all the 
vocal elements, most expressive, and most immediately 
connected with the rendering of thought. The breath 
is more positive, other elements more negative; the 
breath produces the effect in proportion as the other 
organs present no hindrance or obstruction. We shall 
speak of the remaining elements of vocalization some- 
what more briefly, assuming that all which has been 
said of the harmonious action of mind and body in 
the matter of breath is to be applied in large measure 
to all the following elements. 

II. Throat. — As all vibration starts with the action 
of the vocal chords, they themselves and all their im- 
mediate connections must be rendered flexible, and be 
prepared for easy, prompt, and vigorous action. To 


secure this, practice constantly the following list of 

1. Relaxation of neck muscles. — Sit, leaning well 
forward; drop the head until the chin rests upon the 
chest; raise it; now slowly draw it down, slightly stiff- 
ening the muscles of the neck; again raise it. Now by 
contrast see what the condition of the neck muscles is 
when the' head is perfectly " surrendered to gravity;'" 
that is, given up. " Let go" the neck. Do not draw 
the head down, but allow it to drop. Test the condi- 
tion of the neck muscles, both by the general feeling of 
the neck, and by the sense of touch. Laying the hand 
upon the sides of the neck, you can easily detect the 
difference between the partially contracted and the 
wholly relaxed condition of the muscles. Now rise 
and stand at ease, or walk leisurely, retaining the same 
relaxed condition of the neck. Count numbers, speak 
conversational sentences, and sing easy passages, being 
careful to keep the same relaxation of muscles. Utter 
sentences and passages in different moods, preserving 
the same general condition of relaxation and ease. 

2. While rocking the head and neck, loosely shake 
the larynx. This will be done by moving the back of 
the tongue upward, and allowing it to fall. There 
should be a soft, jelly-like condition of all the sides of the 
neck, which may easily be perceived by the tips of the 
fingers. The larynx should oscillate freely, as a pass- 
ive hand would be shaken by taking hold of the cuff 
with the other hand, and flinging it up and down. 



3. Make the sound of initial k; that is, of k with- 
out the emission of any breath. It is a simple mechani- 
cal movement, striking ther back of the tongue upon 
the soft palate. Do this in different rhythms, as if 
beating a tattoo with the back of the tongue. 

4. Sing the syllable koo in even notes; thus: do, re; 
do, re; do, re; do, re; do. The first eight are short 
notes, the last one a long note, which is to be held 
smoothly and evenly. Accent slightly the lower note 
each time. Practice this up and down the scale. 



do, re, do, re, do, re, do, re, 


-A ^ 













J v 


re, mi, re, mi, etc. 

— 1- 


mi, fa, mi, fa, etc. up the scale. 

5. Sing koo in triplets; thus: do re do; re do re; re 
mi re; mi re mi; mi fa mi; fa mi fa; fa sol fa; sol fa 
sol; sol la sol; la so la; la si la; si la si; do. The last 
tone, "do," may be a whole note with a hold on it, if 
there is sufficient breath left. 

Koo, koo, koo ; Koo, koo, koo ; etc. 


Take all these singing exercises at easy natural 
pitches. The best average for all voices will be about 
the key of A or B flat. Bass and alto voices might 
begin as low as G, or even F. Tenors or high sopranos 
need not practice them higher than C or D. 

6. Passages in different rhythms, especially poetry 
in different metres, will be best to practice first. Use 
especially the lighter and more flexible movements, as 
dactylic and anapestic verses. 

Among many that will easily be found, the following 
may be named: " Lochinvar," by Scott; " How They 
Brought the Good News," by Robert Browning; "The 
Battle of Ivry," by Macaulay; "The Boys," by Holmes. 

Drill for Flexibility: — 

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee 

Jest, and youthful Jollity, 

Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles, 

Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, 

Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 

And love to live in dimple sleek; 

Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 

And Laughter, holding both his sides. 

Come, and trip it as you go 

On the light fantastic toe. — Milton, 

Has there any old fellow got mixed with the boys? 
If there has, put him out without making a noise. 
Hang the almanack's cheat and the catalogue's spite; 
Old Time is a liar! we're twenty to-night. 
We're twenty ! we're twenty! W 7 ho says we are more? 
He's tipsy — young jackanapes; show him the door. 
Gray temples at twenty? Yes, white if you please; 
When the snow-flakes fall thickest, there's nothing can freeze. 

— Holmes. 


I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris and he; 

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three. 

" Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; 

" Speed! " echoed the wall to us galloping through; 

Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, 

And into the midnight we galloped abreast, 

— Robert Browning. 

III. The Jaw. — One of the greatest hindrances to 
easy and effective utterance is a stiff and inflexible jaw. 
It must first be liberated mechanically, and then be 
taught to move in flexible, elastic, but not extravagant 
action, and in all sorts of rhythm. For this the follow- 
ing simple order of exercises is suggested: 

1. Sit leaning forward, as in preparation for throat 
exercises; drop the head allowing the jaw to hang down, 
"as if falling asleep." Repeat this until you can feel a 
slight " sense of weight " in the lower jaw, as you can feel 
in the fingers when you draw the hand and arm up, 
allowing the fingers to hang down. When this slight 
sense of weight is perceived, then 

2. Shake the jaw by the head and by the hand, 
moving it vertically and laterally. The important thing 
is, to gain such flexibility as shall insure prompt, elastic 
action. Relaxation is the prerequisite of elasticity. 
Having thus secured a mechanical freedom, or libera- 

3. Sing fo, fa, fa, up and down the scale; then^fr, 
fa, fa, fa; then in triplets, fa, fa, fa; three triplets to 
each degree of the scale. 


fo, fa, fa, fo, fa, fa, etc. fo, fa, fa, fa, fo, fa, fa, fa, etc. 

IIJ ^.-^.-y — ^._ N — N — !\-hv — ft- p — ^ — ^ — N — ^--^ — j* — V- N— N- 


Pro, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta ; ta, ta, ta, la, la, la, etc. (front 1 ) 

Take every rhythm you can remember or devise; al- 
ways allowing the jaw to hang and vibrate with per- 
fect freedom. Remember it is not essential to pull 
the jaw down as far as you can. The point we are 
seeking is flexibility, rather than wide opening. 

Sing up and down the scale the syllables, do, re, mi, 
fa, sol, la, si, do, and the numerals one, two, three, four, 
five, six, seven, eight, pronouncing all to each degree 
of the scale. 


% y_ 


— :_^ 

— fV 

\ — 


9 » 





do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do, 

1, 2, 3, etc. 

do, re, me, etc. 
1, 2, 3, etc. 

This exercise can be coupled with the breathing ex- 
ercises, by singing an entire scale, or even both the 
ascent and descent of the scale, to a single breath. 

4. Practice Selections. — Let these be chiefly those 
of a glib and spirited nature, with varied rhythms. The 


following will be found helpful: " The Falls of Lodore," 
by Southey; "Old Fezzwig's Ball," from the "Christ- 
mas Carol," by Dickens; the auctioneer passage in 
"Cheap Jack," by Dickens; the list of subscribers in 
"Father Phil's Collection," by Samuel Lover. 

Such passages as the following will be good for flex- 
ibility of jaw. Let them be given very freely and 

" I don't know what to do!" cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in 
the same breath; and making a perfect Laocoon of himself with his 
stockings. "I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I 
am as merry at a school-boy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A 
merry Christmas to everybody ! A happy New Year to all the world ! 
Hallo here ! Whoop! Hallo! ... I don't know what day of 
the month it is. I don't know how long I have been among the Spir- 
its. I don't know anything. I'm quite a baby. Never mind. I 
don't care. I'd rather be a baby. Hallo ! Whoop ! Hallo here !" 

He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out the lust- 
iest peals he had ever heard. Clash, clash, hammer; ding, dong, bell. 
Bell, dong, ding; hammer, clang, clash ! Oh, glorious, glorious ! 

Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. No 
fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold; cold, piping for the 
blood to dance to; Golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; 
merry bells. Oh, glorious. Glorious ! — Dickens. 

IV. Tongue. — This must be trained to keep out 
of the way, and yet to come to its place at every spot 
in the mouth where articulation shall demand it, and 
to act always with promptness, flexibility, and ease. 
The first thing to secure is what we have called, on the 
chart, a " yielding" condition. 

I. Place the tip of the tongue against the lower 
front teeth; let it lie loosely, but it must stay there. 


2. Place the finger and thumb under the chin, about 
an inch back from the front; bear down, not by the 
jaw, but by the hypoglossal muscle, upon your finger 
and thumb. 

3. Keeping the same conditions, lift the uvula and 
soft palate. A mirror will be needed until one becomes 
familiar with the sensation. Be careful also that in 
lifting the uvula the tongue does not draw back; let it, 
rather, press lightly forward and downward. Now, ob- 
serving these conditions, yawn fully, expanding the 
whole oral and pharyngeal cavity. After full yawning, 

4. Sing the vowel ah up and down the scale grad- 
ually, keeping this depressed condition of the tongue, 
which should all the time be in the shape of a trough, 
or of a spoon right side up. 

5. Unite the tongue exercises with those of the jaw, 
singing, fa, fa, etc., with flexible jaw and depressed 

V. Oral Cavity. — Under this head are included 
all the air-chambers above the larynx. They are the 
pharynx, the nasal passages, and the mouth cavity. 
When we speak of opening the mouth freely, we do 
not mean a nervous working of the exterior facial mus- 
cles, nor a violent jerking or spreading of the exterior 
mouth. We mean the free opening of all those interior 
cavities in which the vowels are tuned, and in which 
the voice as a w r hole receives the shaping that gives it 
true resonance and carrying power, as well as agreeable 
and expressive qualities 


I. Placing the tongue down and yawning, as in the 
previous exercise, quietly close the lips over the parted 
teeth and delicately hum. Represent this sound by the 
letter m rather than " hm," because there is to be no per- 
ceptible escape of breath. By the direct act of the will 
the vocal chords will start the vibration, w T hich is com- 
municated to all the air-chambers, and which will be 
felt, when the lips are closed, most perceptibly through 
the bones of the face, at the one extreme, and against 
the diaphragm, at the other. Test the relaxation of all 
the neck muscles; test also, by thumb and finger, the 
depression of the tongue, as before described. Keep- 
ing all these conditions, hum, at first lightly, then with 
delicately increasing swells, up and down an octave in 
the middle of your voice. 

When the humming exercise is mastered, 

2. Add, in order, these vowels: 

oo y as in food, which will be made by the slightest 
parting of the lips at the center, all other parts re- 
maining as they were; 

u } as in the German word fuhl; 

a, as in great, but better represented in the German 
o, as in sc/wn; 

i, as in high, wide, bright; 

o y as in noble; 

d. as in far. 



-u-6-ai-o-a m-oo-ii-6-ai -o-ii etc, 

e, a, I, oh, ah. 


These are not, indeed, all the vowel sounds, but they 
are typical ones, and give, with sufficient exactness for 
vocal culture, all the elements needed. Practice these 
up and down the scale; also in the speaking voice, with 
all sorts of rhythm. 

3. In connection with this drill on the vowel ele- 
ments take the following on semi-vowel consonants : 
Hum first the m in every case; then, in alphabetic 
order, all these consonants, &, d, g,j\ I, m, /z, ng y r, s 
(as z), th y v, w y y % prolonging the sound considerably, 
and adding in each case a word, line, or sentence con- 
taining the consonant. The diphthong^/ will be spec- 
ially favorable; thus: 

Drill for Semi-Vowel Elements: — 
b — found — Bow down thine ear. 
d — down — Deep calleth unto deep. 

g — ground — O great is the depth ! * 

J— Joy — I?eJ oice, again I say, re/oice. 
/ — /oud — Zift up your heads and be ye lifted up. 
m — mount — They shall mount up on wings. 
n — ;ww — iVo o;ze of these shall fail. 
ng — ring — He is the YJ\?ig of glory. 
r — round — Let the sea roar and the fullness thereof. 
s — rewound — The floods have lifted up their voice. 
th — thou. — Thine O Lord is the greatness. 
v — 0OW — His z/oice as the z'oice of many waters. 
w — wound — There's a wideness in God's mercy. 
y — yon — In Him is the yea.. 

Add such lines as the following, rich in semi-vowel 

" Helon!" The vo\ee was /ike the master-tone 
Of a rich instrument, most strangely sweet. 

— Willis. 


By iVe^o's lonely mountain, on this side Jordan's wave, 
In a vale in the land of Moab, there lies a lonely grave. 

— Mrs. Alexander. 

4. Read lutes of poetry in different metres and with 
different types of feeling — the calm, the deep, the gen- 
tle, the bright, the lofty. Use also prose of a dignified 
and noble nature. 

It is not to be thought that good expression requires 
absolutely the maximum of vocal fullness in every syl- 
lable. These exercises are given rather as a means of 
developing the whole capacity of the voice in this re- 
spect, any part of which is to be used in any given ut- 
terance, according to a wise and moderate judgment as 
to effects. 

The thing to be studiously avoided is any approach 
toward mouthing. All the vowels are to be free, 
pointed, easy, round, resonant. In practice considera- 
ble prolongation may be required on each vowel and 
semi-vowel element, in order to measure the sound, as 
well as the sensation accompanying the action which 
produces it. The student will need to be specially 
careful that school-room prolongation does not become, 
in practice, an affected or elocutionary drawl. 

Such as the following will be serviceable for technical 
practice in cultivating purity and resonance: " The Day 
is Done/' by Longfellow; "Thanatopsis," by Bryant; 
"The Vision of Sir Launfal," by Lowell, especially the 
" preludes," and Part First. Refer also to Chapter XL 

VI. Vocal Chords. — The generating source of 


vibration can itself be trained. The elastic action of 
the vocal chords constitutes what is technically called 
the "touch" of the tone. Upon this depends the purity, 
ease, elasticity, and, in some measure, the fullness of 

I. With the oral cavity well opened and teeth slightly 
parted, but lips loosely closed over them, repeat the 
hum in short, detached impulses, but with no emission 
of breath (m-m-m). 

- ^~ 4 9 9 i 

m — m, m — m — m — m, 


m — m — m — m. oo, u o, a oo, u, o, a. 

The vibration should be felt, as before, in the face 
and against the diaphragm; and while each impulse is 
to be short and instantaneous, there is to be no press- 
ure to produce it. It starts with no perceptible me- 
chanical action. The vocal chords by the sheer act of 
the will, stimulated by the thought of the tone, and 
perhaps acting in " reflex" connection with the dia- 
phragm, approach each other, closing the glottis, and 
so give the beginning of vibration. This is the vital 
element in the touch. The automatic contraction of 
the lung-cells which have been distended in the act of 
inhalation, will be sufficient to support this beginning 
of the tone, called the " touch." If all the other con- 


ditions are observed, especially those of the chest, there 
will thus result what seems a merely automatic action 
of the voice. In its finest working, there will be no 
sensation except that which results from the vibration 
of the air-chambers. 

In a healthy voice the vocal chords have almost no 
sensation. At all events, the jar given to the air-cham- 
bers and communicated to the more sensitive parts of 
the frame, so greatly transcends any feeling in the vocal 
chords themselves that the latter is practically nothing. 

Practice these exercises most diligently, as upon this 
depend the ease, elasticity, and freedom, which should 
characterize the great bulk of our conversational utter- 

2. Use the vowels oo, as in foot ; o, as in bold; u, as in 
tub; a, as in far, as shown in (b) of the last exercise. 
Take these in all possible rhythms, the air-chambers 
being held quiet. A lighted match held before the 
mouth should not flare, even when these vowels are 
given with full, strong sound. 

3. Alternately with (2) give the koo-koo exercise, to 
insure liberation of all the neck muscles in connection 
with the prompt action of the vocal chords. 


4 — ft * — -ft fr ft ft — - ft ft" nil* 




Koo,koo, etc. 00, u, o, 

F— qf==M=7^=A=T^= -3!-=Z=3!-r-+ — +.- 

Koo, koo, etc. o, u, a. 


Sing in thirds: do, mi, re, fa, mi, sol, fa, la, sol, si, 
la, do, si, re, do; mi, do, re, si, do, la, si, sol, la, fa, 
sol, mi, fa, re, do. Also this exercise, which employs 
different skips : sol, do, mi, sol, fa, la, re, fa, mi, sol, 
do, me, re, fa, si, re, do. (Seiler.) 



do, mi, re, fa, etc. 
oo, u, o, a, 

f~= — - — # •■ i\ - — —-^ _ -^ — N- 

FT— ' — ?— w— * — •— - — ■—*- 


- # — #- 0— 



sol, do, mi, sol, fa, la, re, fa, mi, sol, do, mi, re, fa, si, re, do. 

koo, koo, o, a, etc. 

In connection with each of these and with similar 
exercises which you can find or invent, put in promis- 
cuously the humming note (m), and the different open 
vowels, as oo, u, o. After you can give it as a whole, 
and with an easy rhythmic flow, slip in first one and 
then another of the different tests for the touch or 
stroke of the vocal chords. Such alternation will pre- 
vent the stiffening of throat and jaw, which might 
result if the attention were kept simply upon the ac- 
tion of the vocal chords. 

VII. Articulating* Organs. — These, of course, 
must be elastic and vigorous in their action, to secure 
distinctness of speech. They must not, however, be 
so strained or laborious as to call attention to their 
action. This would divert attention from the thing 


said to the mechanical means of saying it. One of the 
worst forms of elocutionary pedantry is a labored or 
noticeable articulation. The sounds are chiefly formed, 
as above described, in the oral cavity. They are 
shaped and communicated to the outer air by the assist- 
ance of the articulating elements; and these must be 
heard in connection with the vocal elements, and not 
seem to be a thing outside of the voice: they are a 
part of the voice. 

Each element of articulation must first be trained to 
individual, independent, free action; and must next be 
associated with its vowels in such a way that it shall 
help to shape and point those vowel elements, rather 
than cover or displace them. This makes it truly con- 
sonant, that is, sounding with the vowels. 

i. The lip stroke for labials. — Holding the breath 
quite still, tightly press the lips at the center, then let 
them suddenly open, making a slight popping sound. 

2. Lip stroke for w. — This is made, not at the 
center, but at the sides of the mouth. Put the lips 
forward, contracted as for a whistle: hold the breath 
perfectly quiet, and instantly draw the lips backward. 
If you do it rightly, you will hear a suction of the air, 
which constitutes the test. It may sound somewhat 
like the dropping of water into a deep can. When the 
technical action is secured, sing up and down the scale 
such syllables as: wai, wo, we, wah. Any blowing 
upon these syllables will vitiate the whole effect. 


( Stocca to.) ( Lega to . 

-f \- 

'- — A —, .- 

t^=? =2m 

wai, wo, we, wah ; wai, wo, wee, wah. 

3. Stroke for f. — Here the upper teeth are placed 
upon the lower lip, and suddenly parted as in the ele- 
ment p. Practice here the exercises given under devel- 
opment of jaw action. 

4. The stroke of the tip of the tongue. — Place the 
tongue firmly against the gum just over the upper front 
central teeth. Holding the breath, quite strongly press 
the tongue against the gum and instantly draw it back. 
The test will be a hollow, popping sound, somewhat 
like those given by p and w, though more pointed, and 
perhaps stronger. 

5. Initial I. — Put the tip of the tongue well up on 
the gum, as in /, but instead of drawing it back, move 
it quickly down, as if removing a sliver from between the 
front teeth. If the breath is held quiet, you will hear 
a slight impulse in the air. 

6. The front, or lingual, r. — This is almost exactly 
the reverse of /; the tongue placed loosely against the 
front, upper teeth, moves quickly upward against the 
gum, as if lapping-in the air. Here there will be more 
danger of blowing than upon the other elements. In 
order to secure the clean action of the initial r, the 
breath must be held still; neither must there be any 
vocalization. You are to hear only a little flap, the 
beginning of a trill. 

7. Combine the above motions in the following list 


of syllables: pa, ba, ma, fa, ta, la, ra, sa. These sylla- 
bles may be taken, at first, staccato and quite widely 
separated, but with no expense of breath upon them. 
Afterward they may be taken legato and quite rhyth- 
mically. The rhythms may be varied at pleasure. Fi- 
nally, practice selections containing many sharp and 
strong consonants. Controlling the breath perfectly, 
make the consonant elements very precise, very clear, 
and very elastic. Combine great rapidity and perfect 

(a) Staccato. 


\\*¥t jl «) N. [\ 

'S V l\ f\ P\ l> 1 

V*»J* £ r ! A 

«-»— = 3 ,- 

V 9 * 9 W m -\ 

pa, ba, 

ma, fa, ta, la, ra, sa, 
(b) Legato. 

^ f\ r \ h 

is K rs f\ 1 I ll 

1 i i i 1 II 


— - 1 — 2— 3 \— z> — F— ^— fl 

pa, ba, ma, fa, ta, la, ra, sa. (same syllables.) 
8. Find or make different combinations of syllables y 
seeking especially those that may present any special 
difficulties. First conquer the difficult element by slow, 
separate movements of the organ needed to produce 
that element, centering the will upon that definite, pre- 
cise and slow motion: then keeping the attention upon 
that element, repeat it more rapidly; and finally in 
rhythms of all sorts, until, as a separate element, there 
is no longer any difficulty in producing it in any form 
and with any degree of rapidity. Next couple this 
with other elements. 

Any good treatise on elocution or voice culture will 


have abundance of such exercises, and it is not thought 
necessary to give extended examples here. 

The matter of consonant action has been thus men- 
tioned, first, to show its place in the general scheme of 
voice culture, and, secondly, to remind the student that 
the rhetorical spirit is violated equally by a slovenly and 
by a laborious articulation. 

Drill for Articulation. — 

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 glancing and prancing and dancing, 
Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling, 
And thumping and flumping and bumping and jumping, 
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing, 
And so never ending, but always 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. 

— Southey* 

At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun, 
And against him the cattle stood black every one, 
To stare through the mist at us galloping past; 
And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, 
With resolute shoulders, each butting away 
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray; 
And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back 
For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; 
And one eye's black intelligence — ever that glance 
O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance; 
And the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon 
His fierce lips shook upward in galloping on. 


So we were left galloping, Joris and I, 

Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; 

The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 

'Neath our feet broke the brittle, bright stubble like chaff; 

Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, 

And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix*is in sight!" 

— Robert Browning. 

VIII. Abdominal Muscles, — These may be 
trained to a strong and most flexible action. The im- 
portance of the abdominal muscles in vocalization is 
often overestimated. Perhaps it would-be truer to say- 
that their real office is generally misunderstood. As 
here used, the term refers to the strong muscles sur- 
rounding the abdomen. The principal of these are: 
(i) the right abdominal muscle, the contraction of 
which may be observed about the median line of the 
body; (2) the oblique abdominal muscles, connecting 
the ribs and the inside of the hip bone, the action of 
which may be plainly perceived by laying the hand 
upon the side, the fingers pointing downward in front 
of the hip; and (3) the transverse abdominal muscle, 
whose action may be perceived in connection with that 
of the other two, by placing the hands across the abdo- 
men, the fingers touching, and the wrists lying across 
the hip bones. 

These different muscles in the abdomen may be 
somewhat trained separately, but practically*they work 
together. In vocalization their action is required usu- 
ually for one of two reasons: 

1. To make what is popularly called a "support" of 


the tone. The value of this support is seen thus: 
when the diaphragm is contracted, as above described, 
it moves downward and becomes more tense, serving as 
part of the resonance-apparatus, reinforcing the vibra- 
tions started by the vocal chords, much as the lower 
drum-head reverberates, and augments the vibrations 
produced by playing upon the upper drum-head. Now 
in order that the diaphragm may be held so firmly in 
its place as to assist in the vibration, there must be 
a somewhat firm condition of all the parts below it. If 
the whole abdomen were absolutely relaxed, there 
would be a muffy and unresonant action. The degree 
of contraction in the abdominal muscles necessary for 
this support is not so great as that required for the 
violent expulsion of air, as in a cough or sneeze; nev- 
ertheless the more moderate action required in vocali- 
zation may best be secured by first training these mus- 
cles to quite full and vigorous action, and then allowing 
only the needed part of their strength to be employed. 

2. The other vocal uses of the abdominal muscles are: 

(a) To sustain the expiration beyond the ordinary 
point, as in the case of long sentences during which 
one cannot recover full breath; and 

(d) To give a sudden and harsh impulse to the voice. 

Both of these uses (2, a and b) are very infrequent 
in normal utterance. The first use, that of giving a 
reasonably firm support to the tone, is in almost con- 
stant demand. It constitutes a part of the general 
condition indicated by the term " active chest." There 


is a flexible, and yet firm condition of the muscles of 
the entire trunk. 

It must be distinctly understood that the abdominal 
muscles are not to be used to pump the tone out of the 
chest, nor to give, ordinarily, any explosive, nor even 
expulsive, movement to the tone. They are usually to 
be so managed as to assist in the deep, full, sonorous, 
and musical vibration of the voice. 

The following list of exercises will be sufficient for 
the development of this part. Some of these exercises 
can be practiced most profitably in private, rather than 
in class. 

i. Take slow, full inspiration, the abdominal mus- 
cles being as completely relaxed as possible, while the 
diaphragm and the rib muscles (intercostals) contract 
as strongly as possible. The purpose here is to deepen 
and broaden the thoracic cavity, or the chest proper. 
Just at this stage we give the entire attention to the 
filling of the lungs, and for the moment disregard the 
action of the abdominal muscles, except to relax them 
and let them be crowded out of the way by the dia- 

2. Slowly expel the air by first contracting the abdom- 
inal muscles. This may be felt very perceptibly by 
laying the hands upon the parts previously described. 
Toward the end of the expiration, the upper chest itself 
may be allowed to diminish in size, the ribs falling in 
upon the lungs. If the expiration has been complete, 
the whole trunk will have a shrunken or collapsed ap- 


pearance; but the chest muscles (intercostals and dia- 
phragm) will be passive; and the abdominal muscles 
will be strongly active; that is, the chest will have fallen 
in, and the abdomen will have been drawn or pushed 
in. Repeat these two exercises in alternation many 
times, observing and measuring by sensation the action 
of both inspiratory and expiratory muscles. 
3. Lie upon the back or sit reclining easily. 

(a) Depress the diaphragm and abdomen, the dia- 
phragm muscle being active, and the abdominal muscles 

(b) Contract the abdominal muscles, allowing the 
diaphragm to relax; (b) will exactly reverse the action 
of (a). Repeat (b), this time singing or speaking a 
staccato note, ah or oh. You will perceive that with 
the contraction of abdominal muscles and relaxation of 
diaphragm you have produced a breathy and unsubstan- 
tial sound. 

(V) Contract the diaphragm muscle, allowing the ab- 
domen to relax as in (a), this time singing or speaking a 
staccato note, ah or oh. Now you will observe that the 
breathiness has departed from the tone, and yet the 
sound is not so firm and resonant as it might be. 

(d) Silently contract the muscles, first separately, 
that is, diaphragm and ribs being active, while abdom- 
inal muscles are passive, and vice versa; and second, 
contract both together ; that is, let there be a firm 
holding down of the diaphragm and holding out of the 
ribs, and at the same time a moderately firm contrac- 


tion of the abdominal muscles; not amounting, how- 
ever, to a rigid or violent action. This united effort of 
pectoral and abdominal muscles will give the best con- 
dition for firm and easy vibration of tone. 

(e) Sing and speak vowels, oh, ah, a, e, ai, on, etc., 
keeping the simultaneous contraction of the thoracic 
and abdominal parts. If this is done moderately, it 
will soon induce a most comfortable condition of the 
whole body; a condition combining a healthful, an- 
imated, reasonably active state, with a sense of quiet 
and repose. 

The recumbent or reclining position has been as- 
sumed for the purpose of more minute and separate 
study of the muscles of the trunk; as the attention 
can be directed to these parts best when all the other 
parts of the body are perfectly relaxed. Now, having 
learned the delicate measurement of all these muscles, 

4. Stand, or walk quietly, singing and speaking the 
tones as above directed. Add short sentences indiffer- 
ent moods, but always within the sphere of normal 
utterance. Carefully measure the general sensation ac- 
companying this consentaneous action of all the parts. 

5. Hold the singing tone during one breath. Run up 
and down the scale to one breath. Sing all the sylla- 
bles, do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do, on each degree of the 
scale, ascending in one breath and descending in an- 
other. Now try all these eight syllables upon each of 
the sixteen notes; that is, ascend and descend to one 
breath. This will give sustaining power for long passages. 


6. Practice the "calling tone." Use words of mili- 
tary command and other shouting passages. In this 
be very careful that there is no straining or grating 
upon the throat. The action of the voice must be just 
as easy as in mild conversational utterance. There will 
be only fuller and broader action of the chest and ab- 
domen. This broader action will give you somewhat 
the feeling of comfortably stretching the muscles. 
There will be no jerking, no violent contortions. 

7. Practice f tell and sustained passages. Make the 
voice carry, during long periods, as if you were speak- 
ing to an out-door audience, or to a person across a 
field. In this avoid monotony of inflections and of 
cadences. Let the intonation be natural. The voice 
must be evenly sustained, deeply sonorous, and some- 
what slower than in ordinary speech. 

It must be remembered in connection with all the 
exercises suggested in this chapter, that each element 
is first to be separately mastered, and then employed 
in connection with the other elements of vocal action. 
During the process of separate study and mastery, 
there will often seem to be an exaggeration of the ele- 
ment under consideration. Do not be disturbed by 
this. In actual use, one part will so balance and sup- 
plement another that the united effect will be simply 
normal, comfortable, and easily efficient. 

To sum up, then, we would say, to have the perfection of 
action in his instrument the speaker must have a promptly 
and generously opening chest, working noiselessly 


and comfortably, supported and reinforced by firm ab- 
dominal action, a loose throat, a promptly dropping 
chin, a quickly yielding tongue, lips sensitive and nervy, 
delicate but strong; and, finally, that 'he must so train 
all the parts as to gain the maximum of vibratory, 
focusing, and tuning power, with the minimum of mus- 
cular and nervous effort; and especially that he must 
know and learn to feel the relations of the delicate and 
spiritually powerful element of resonance to the more 
homely and practical muscular part. Above all the 
speaker needs a quickened, exalted appreciation of the 
real significance, and the natural symbolism, of vibratory 

Note. — In addition to the acknowledgment in the Preface, the 
author desires here to make special mention of the late Madame 
Emma Seiler, whose personal instruction mainly gave the sub- 
stance of this chapter on vocal culture. The form, arrangement, 
and adaptation are believed to be the author's own: and in preparing 
this presentation of the subject no reference has been had to any of the 
publications of Madame Seiler. The ideas communicated in private 
lessons have here found shape and adjustment according to the pres- 
ent writer's conception of the needs of the speaking voice. That the 
esteemed teacher would accept or approve every item in this formula- 
tion, is not certain. Different teachers must use the same great staples 
of instruction according to their respective views and needs. It is 
alone the consciousness of a deep and lasting obligation for germinal 
ideas, that has made inevitable this full and hearty acknowledgment. 

As regards a few items in this chapter similar credit is due to 
Prof. S. S. Curry, Ph. D., of Boston. The application of " poise " 
to the development of the chest, and the special relaxation of neck and 
jaw preceding other exercises, have been in part suggested by that 
teacher's class-room work. There has been no intention to asso- 
ciate another teacher's name with ideas and methods that he could not 


indorse. No doubt Dr. Curry's use of these same elements would be 
very different. Those who may study or read this book are cordially 
commended to the works published, and to be published, by that scholar 
and author. 




By means of comparison, we arrive at the result through circuitous 
routes; judge the subject rather as it is, with its own inwa?"d reasons 
and counter-arguments. — Schumann. 

But they measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing them- 
selves among themselves, are not wise. — Paul. 

An art-product has its final test in a discerning criti- 
cism. The art student should himself become a capa- 
ble critic. The spontaneity which has been insisted 
upon is not antagonized by proper criticism. It is 
rather regulated and directed by the principles of criti- 
cism, to which art is naturally amenable. 

We say, "You should render the thought," "You 
must not be declamatory," etc., but what is declama- 
tion? What is it to interpret the thought? Unless we 
can find the processes of the thought and tell what is 
truly manifestive, what basis have we for criticism? 

Criticism ought to mean intelligent, thorough, and 
candid judgment. Practically it too often means mere 

Criticism may be divided into two classes: 

I. Popular, expressing a general approval or dis- 
approval, with no well defined or scientifically deter- 
mined judgment as to the merits of the work. It is a 

criticism. 355 

sort of feeling that the effect is right or wrong be- 
cause it agrees with or differs from a preconceived 
standard, or simply because it pleases or displeases the 

2. Technical or scholarly, the expression of a spe- 
cific judgment from which personal taste and feeling 
are largely eliminated. Such judgment is based upon 
definite knowledge of the laws of thought and of ex- 
pression, and upon a trained ability to discern whether 
the expression justly embodies the thought. It studies 
the thought from the writer's and speaker's point of 
view, rather than from the critic's personal view, recog- 
nizing the individuality of the speaker as an important 
element in the problem. 

Just here arises the question: What and how much 
in expression is legitimate subject of criticism? Broadly 
we may answer: Ail that has to do with the manifesta- 
tion of purpose is amenable to scientific criticism, be- 
cause it employs physical means which are subject to 
observation, classification, and generalization — in a 
word, to law; and because men do recognize certain 
forms of expression as symbolizing certain forms of 
thought, feeling, and purpose. On the other hand all 
that has to do with the formation of purpose on the 
part of the speaker belongs to his individuality, and is 
outside the pale of criticism. The view of fact or 
truth that one is able to obtain depends upon his tem- 
perament, his habits of mind and associations, his con- 
stitutional or accidental limitations — his personality; 


and the use of fact or truth which he chooses to make 
depends upon his ethical and sesthetical disposition. 
These qualities of the man, however, while not strictly 
subject to rhetorical criticism, may yet receive much of 
suggestion from a broad study of the properties of 
thought as related to utterance. 

Individuality in reading and speaking. — In 
what has been said in this book it has not been in- 
tended to erect any absolute or mechanical standard of 
expression. The elements that have been treated are 
always to be adapted to the individual, and always to 
be modified by personal properties, as temperament, 
natural voice, form, etc.; and also by special circum- 
stances, as relations of speaker and audience, occasion, 
and especially by the purpose in the utterance. 

Moreover, all the elements of expression represent 
relative effects, not absolute. People differ in their 
conception of thought, and consequently must differ in 
utterance. One is naturally calm, simple, and unim- 
passioned; another naturally sees things in sharp con- 
trast; while a third inclines to state fact or argument 
with great energy; and a fourth can never dissociate 
thought from emotion. 

To say that all these must speak alike, would be an 
attempt to destroy the very charm of speech, which is 
the expression of the individual's apprehension of the 
thought, or, the thought as measured by the com- 
municating mind. Scarcely less absurd would it be 
to assume that a person naturally deliberate needs 

criticism. 357 

no quickening of the other elements; or that one natur- 
ally intense and energetic should always employ force; 
or that a naturally emotional person should forever be 
showing his feelings. 

Every one needs such broadening- and symme- 
trizing as may be gained from a discerning study of 
the moods and means of utterance. Some need this 
much less than others. Such are naturally versatile, 
responsive, and well balanced. But this very versatility 
— a special gift to the few — is to be sought by the 
many through broad culture. 

The same is true in matters of physical endowments 
and acquirements, as voice, bodily bearing, action. No 
one can gain much by imitating another, or by seeking 
to acquire the same flexibility or elasticity of vocal ac- 
tion, the same volume of tone, or the same grace or 
fullness of gesture. But while not to be imitated, all 
these may be emulated, provided only that one follow 
nature, and carefully preserve his own individuality. 

The same is true of the special elements of expres- 
sion. There is no absolute length of pause, or degree 
of quantity; there is no arbitrary scheme of inflections 
or melodies which all are to use alike in all cases; nor 
is the degree of quickness of impulse, or intensity of 
pressure, or fullness of swell, the same for all. One 
may express feeling sufficiently with very slight varia- 
tion of quality, while another will need to make the 
differences quite marked. In one, the least gesture is 
sufficiently expressive, while the same amount would 


render another speaker stiff and constrained. Then, 
too, men will always differ as to the amount of deliber- 
ation needed in a given case ; as to what may be as- 
sumed, and what needs to be insisted upon; as to when 
and how feeling may properly be expressed. Yet 
within the limits of the most jealous individuality, there 
are to be found these relative measurements of thought- 
properties, and their corresponding exponents in ele- 
ments of tone and action. All these may be studied, 
not only without detriment to individual freedom, but 
even with positive gain; for through these each one 
may find his own way into the fullest, most varied, 
most natural expression of which he is capable. 

We may notice, first: 

Objective Properties of Delivery. — These 
will be, first of all, the Mood, as deliberative, discrim- 
inative, emotional, or energetic. One must judge 
whether the speaker or reader has apprehended rightly 
the general purpose of the article or passage, and must 
sustain his criticism by specific reasons. These rea- 
sons will be based upon the recognized laws of thought 
as related to delivery. 

After judging of the moods in general, and of the 
means by which they are expressed, as movement, key, 
melody, interval, general quality, general force, notice 
particular applications of pause, quantity, inflection, 
quality, and stress. If pauses are too frequent or too 
infrequent, too long or too short, show why. If a 
rhetorical pause is overlooked, point it out, suggesting 

criticism. 359 

what additional implied thought might have been 
recognized, and why. If an inflection is wrong, let 
that appear by showing what it is in the sentence or 
context that demands " incompleteness," " complete- 
ness," or some composite form. If stress has been 
wrongly applied, show why " abruptness," or ''insist- 
ence," or "enlargement" was needed. If qualities do 
not seem appropriate, show specifically why orotund is 
demanded, or guttural excluded. Do the same as to 

Criticism may notice also: 

Subjective Properties. — Be ready to point out 
the success or failure of the speaker in self-control and 
repose; in appreciation of subject and occasion; in 
animation and enthusiasm. Note his attitude toward 
the audience. Judge as to how well the speaker has 
preserved his individuality. Detect imitation, affecta- 
tion, and all unnatural effects. Give some practical 
suggestions as to personal peculiarities or tendencies 
in voice, action, facial expression, position, pronuncia- 
tion, or any unpleasant mannerism. 

The criticism of the class-room is not more severe 
nor more unnatural, nor need it be more diverting than 
the silent criticism to which the speaker is uncon- 
sciously subjected whenever he appears before an audi- 
ence. The friendly, judicious, thoughtful criticism, 
given in a scholarly way, even professionally, should be 
more grateful than the undiscerning and often irrelevant 
expressions of taste or whim which sometimes pass 


under the name of criticism. In as far as technical 
criticism assists in the correction of bad habits and in 
the formation of good ones while the student is under 
drill, in so far it forestalls and disarms much of the less 
helpful and more disagreeable criticism to which, if he 
becomes a public speaker, he will surely expose him- 

The two fundamental things in criticism, as in the 
study of one's own delivery, may be: Purpose and 
Paraphrase. The purpose must be made the basis 
of criticism, as it is of interpretation; and the para- 
phrase may be employed by the critic in explaining his 
positions, just as it may be used by the speaker him- 
self in reformulating the thought preparatory to utter- 
ance. If the criticism is given viva voce, as in case of 
teacher and pupil, or of general class criticism, or con- 
versation, the critic may ask the criticised to justify his 
rendering by paraphrase or restatement. 

It is always to be remembered that the object of 
criticism is neither fault-finding nor flattery, but the ex- 
pression of a judgment, unbiased and broad. It seeks 
to be useful to the one criticised, to the critic, and to 
listeners. The soul of true criticism is helpfulness. 



Abdominal muscles, 346-350. 
Action, suited to different moods, 

19, 20; subjective properties of, 

301 ; objective properties of, 302. 
Additional matter implied by 

tone, 6. 
Affirmation with incompleteness, 

129; inflection of, 129. 
Analysis of thought through 

tone, 2; governed by purpose, 

Anticipation, 95; slide of, 96. 
Antony's funeral oration analyzed, 

Ann movements, 314. 
Articulating organs, 34i~3455 li P s > 

342; tongue, 343. 
Artistic study of voice, 327. 
Assertion, 116; inflection of, 1 18; 

paraphrase for, 119. 
Assumption, 116; inflection of, 

116; paraphrase for, 119. 

Breathing, slow and fast, 318. 

Caution, in regard to study of 
emotion, 220. 

Chain of reasoning, 61. 

Chart, vocal, 310, 311. 

Chest, office in vocalization, 312- 
328; expansion of, 315-317. 

Chords, vocal, 337-341. 

Chromatic intervals, 268. 

Circumflexes, falling, 127; rising, 
129; wave, 128. 

Color, exponent of emotion, 17, 

College course, relations of ex- 
pression to, 2. 

Comparison or contrast, with af- 
firmation, 127; inflection of, 
127; with incompleteness, 128; 
inflection of, 128. 

Completeness of thought, 88; par- 
aphrase for, 98. 

Complex relations, 126-139; par- 
aphrase for, 130. 

Comprehensive thought, 61. 

Conclusive thought, 62. 

Condition, 95. 

Continuative falling slide, 118. 

Counting, 318. 

Criticism, 354-360: popular, 
354; technical or scholarly, 355; 
objective properties of, 358; 
subjective properties of, 359; 
purpose as related to, 360; par- 
aphrase as related to, 360. 

Degrees of pitch in inflection, 

Deliberation, defined, 54; ac- 
tion suited to, 19; relation to 
breathing, 321. 

Delivery, objective properties of, 


Diagram, for finality, 90; for com- 
plex relations, 130, 131; for 
melody, 269. 

Dialectic reading, 296. 

Diatonic intervals, small, 268; 
large, 268. 

Discrimination, defined, 86; 
action suited to, 20; relation to 
breathing, 323. 

Divisions, relation to moods, 297. 

Doubt, 108; inflection, 109; par- 
aphrase for, 109. 



Ear, limited receiving capacity, 4. 
Elocution, relation to thought, 2, 


Emotion, defined, 140; action 
suited to, 20; relations of, 141; 
means of expression, 142; par- 
aphrase for, 144; gesture of, 
303; relation to breathing, 324. 

Energy, defined, 202; action 
suited to, 20; paraphrase for, 
203; of abruptness, 209; para- 
phrase for, 212; of insistence, 
213; paraphrase for, 217; of up- 
lift, 219; paraphrase for, 224; 
of establishment, 227; para- 
phrase for, 229; of violence, 
231; paraphrase for, 232; ges- 
ture of, 303; relation to breath- 
ing, 326. 

Expansion, of chest, 315-317; 
symmetrical, 317. 

Feeling, normal, 147; paraphrase 
for, 151; elevated, 160; para- 
phrase for, 165; suppressed, 
168; paraphrase for, 170; stern, 
severe, or harsh, 174; para- 
phrase for, 178; oppressed, or 
covered, 188; paraphrase for, 
191; agitated, 193; paraphrase 
for, 194. 

Figurative language, relation to 
gesture, 299. 

Finality, 88. 

Force, exponent of energy, 18; 
general, 290-292; as affecting 
pauses, 292. 

Formulation, 54. 

"General force," defined, 20, 202, 

Generalized thought, 61. 
General properties of utterance, 

Gesture, as figurative language, 

299-307; proofs of relation to 

thought, 300; literal, 302; met- 
aphorical, 303; of ideal pres- 
ence, 303; of emotion, 303; of 
energy, 303; of intensity, 303, 
Groupings, 69. 

Ideal presence, gesture of, 303. 

Imaginative type, expression in, 

Impassioned type, expression in, 

Impersonation, 296. 

Incompleteness, grammatical and 
formal, 93-104; paraphrase for, 
98; indirect and inferential 
forms of, 105-115. 

Individuality in expression, 356. 

Inflection, definition and uses, 
87; of momentary completeness, 
90; of subordination, 93; of 
anticipation, 96; of negation, 
105; of supplication, 115; of 
degrees of pitch, 115; of as- 
sumption, 116; of assertion, 
118; of comparison or contrast 
with affirmation, 127; of com- 
parison or contrast with incom- 
pleteness, 128. 

Intellectual element, 54-139. 

Intellectual type, expression in, 


Intensity, gesture of, 303. 

Interpretation, office in reading, 

Interrogation, no; inflection of, 
no; paraphrase for, in. 

Intervals, in melody, 268; small 
diatonic, 268; large diatonic, 
268; chromatic, 268; minor, 
268; unusual, 268. 

Introductory uses, 55-58; explan- 
atory, 55; adaptive, 56; concil- 
iatory, 57; incentive, 57; move- 
ment, 58. 

Inversion as a test of emphasis, 



Jaw- uses and exercises. 332-334. 

Keys, 264; of different voices, 

Lip, 342. 

Literal gesture, 302. 

Literature, expression in differ- 
ent forms of, 293; intellectual 
type, 293; imaginative type, 
294; impassioned type, 294. 

Loose structure, 90. 

Marking analysis, 26. 

Marking of elements for group- 
ing, 69. 

Melody, 264; intervals in, 268; 
trend of, 268; diagramming, 
269; illustrations from music, 
273-277; illustrated by the 
" Erl-king," 277-280. 

Memory, relation to expression, 

Metaphorical gesture, 303. 

Minor intervals, 268. 

Modifications of thought by in- 
tonation, 6, 7. 

Momentary completeness, 89; 
slide of, 90. 

Mood of utterance, defined, 16; 
sequence of, 22; adaptation of 
elements of vocality to, 321- 

Movement, 67, 238; slow, 238; 
fast, 240; relation of to moods 
of utterance, 240-242. 

Negative statement 105; slide of, 
105; paraphrase for, 106. 

Objective vs. subjective paraphras- 
ing, 146, 203; in criticism, 358, 

Oral cavity, 335, 336. 
Overtones, 284. 

Pantomimic Expression, must 
precede vocal, 142, 175; of nor- 
mal feeling, 147; of elevated 
feeling, 160; of suppressed feel- 
ing, 169; of harsh feeling, 176; 
of oppressed ,or covered , feeling, 
190; of agitated feeling, 194; of 
abrupt energy, 212; of insistent 
energy, 216; of energy of up- 
lift, 224; of energy of establish- 
ment, 228; of energy of vio- 
lence, 231; by paraphrase, 303. 

Paragraphs, relation to memory 
and expression, 298. 

Paraphrase, expressional, 29; 
objective, 32; subjective, 34; 
expansive, 36; condensative 43; 
elliptical, 47; prosaic, 47; to re- 
veal completeness or incom- 
pleteness, 98; to reveal nega- 
tion, 106; for supplication, 113; 
for assertion and assumption, 
119; for complex relations, 130; 
for normal feeling, 15 1 ; for ele- 
vated feeling, 165; for sup- 
pressed feeling, 170; for stern 
feeling, 178; for oppressed, or 
co vered ,feelin g, 19 1 ; for agitated 
feeling, 194; for energy of ab- 
ruptness, 212; for energy of in- 
sistence, 217; for energy of up- 
lift, 224; for energy of estab- 
lishment, 229; for energy of 
violence, 232; pantomimic, 303; 
as related to criticism, 360. 

Pauses, 69; grammatical, 72; 
elliptical, 81; prosodial, 83; 
euphonic or rhythmic, 84; as af- 
fected by force, 292. 

Perceptive faculties concerned in 
deliberation, 19. 

Percussion of chest, 318. 

Periodic structure, 77, 96. 

Phrasing, 69. 

Physiology, relations to expres- 
sion, 1. 



Pitch, exponent of discrimination, 

17, 87. 

Poise, necessary for normal qual- 
ity, 149; definitions and exer- 
cises, 313. 

Proofs of relation between man- 
ner and matter, 9. 

Propagation of tone, 313. 

Property vs. quality, 143. 

Propositional use, 59-63; formal, 
59, definitive, 60; weighty, 60. 

Psychology, relations to expres- 
sion, 1. 

Purpose, relation to expression, 
16; special and general, 17; de- 
liberative, 17; discriminative, 
17; emotional, 17; energetic, 
18; final and immediate, as gov- 
erning analysis, 21; manifesta- 
tions of, 355; formation 0^355; 
as related to criticism, 360. 

Quality, exponent in emotion, 
17, 142; definition of, 143; pure, 
148, 282; expanded pure, 161, 
282; aspirated, 169, 283; rigid 
or tense, 176, 283; pectoral, 
192, 283; tremulous, or vibrato, 
194, 284; as general property, 
282; special, 284; as dependent 
upon overtones, 284; practical 
study of, 289. 

"' Radical " tone, 271. 

Rate, 69. 

Rational faculties, concerned in 

discrimination, 19. 
Rhetoric, relations to expression, 


Rhythm of speech, 243-263; 
poetic, 244-247; prose, 247- 
263; abrupt, 248; insistent, 250; 
gliding, 251; weighty. 252; ex- 
ample analyzed, 256. 

Sequence of dominant moods, 22. 

Slide, falling, 90; of momentary 
completeness, 90; of subordina- 
tion, 93; of anticipation, 96; 
of negation, 105. 

"Special force," 203. 

Stress, defined, 21; initial, 211; 
final, 215; median, 223; thor- 
ough, 228; compound, 231. 

Style, reaction of expression 

^ upon, 5. 

Subjective vs. objective paraphras- 
ing, 146, 203. 

Subordination, 93; slide of, 93. 

Supplication, in; paraphrase for, 
113; inflection of, 115. 

Suspense, 77. 

Technique, of expression, de- 
fined, 13; vocal, 308-353. 

Textures, relation to emotion, 20, 

"That" and "which," 74, 91. 

Thought through tone, 2. 

Thought, weakened, 7; intensi- 
fied, 7; subjective relation of 
speaker, 7; comments by de- 
livery, 8; proofs of relation of 
gesture to, 300. 

Throat, offices and exercises, 

3 2 9-33 2 - 
Time, exponent in deliberation, 

17, 69. 
Tongue, exercises, 334, 335, 343. 
Transitional use, 64-68. 

Unity, tested by condensative 

paraphrase, 297. 
Unusual intervals, 268. 

" Vanishing" tone, 271. 
Vocal chart, 310, 311. 
Vocal chords, 337-341 • 
Vocal Technique, 308-353. 
Volition, 202 235. 

"Which" and "that," 74, 91. 
Will, relation to expression, 24; 
relation to energy, 202. 


Alexander, Mrs., 33S. 

Beecher. 56, 119. 

Bible, 40, 44, 57, 64, 119, 123, 
124, 139, 164, 178, 188, 192, 
219, 220, 221, 222, 324, 325. 

Blaine, 48, 253, 254. 

Browning, Elizabeth, 305. 

Browning, Robert, 308, 332, 346. 

Bryant, 207, 305, 33S. 

Burke, 58, 

Byron, 89, 162 

177, 211, 214, 215, 

Carlyle, 74. 
Chalmers, 258. 
Clay, 37. 
Coleridge, 166, 220. 

Delsarte, 299. 

Dickens, 95, 100, 107, 114, 158, 
179-181, 240, 258, 334. 

Everett, 62, 91, 165, 304, 307. 

Genung, 293. 
Goldsmith, 108. 
Gough, 56. 

Henry, 57. 
Holmes, 73, 331. 
Hugo, 55, 99, 304. 

Irving, 108. 

Jonson, Ben, 86. 

Kingsley, 158. 

Lincoln. 42. 

Longfellow, 43, 78, 102, 103, 163, 

221, 224, 304, 305.338. 
Lowell, 304, 305, 338. 

Macaulay, 78, 79, 94, 157, 222. 
Mendelssohn, 273-276. 
Milton, 176, 331. 

Nott, 306. 

Phillips, 304. 
Pope, 16, 282. 
Prentiss, 56. 
Proctor, 171, 305. 

Quincy, 165. 

Ruskin, 60, 62, 77, 140. 

Schubert, 276. 
Schumann, 354. 
Scott, 95, 149-15 1 . 2 3 2 - 
Seiler, 238. 
Shakespeare — 

As You Like It, 195, 196. 
Hamlet, t, 29, 38, 39, 76, 109, 
132, 134, 136, 137, 139, 164, 
166, 171, 187, 188, 189, 256. 
Henry V. , 12, 227. 
Henry VIII., 202. 
Julius Caesar, 22, 27, 33, 45, 49, 
79, 107, 117, 121, 122, 133, 
166, 187, 204, 205, 239, 240, 
Macbeth, 191. 
Measure for Measure, 290. 
Merchant of Venice, 97, 107, 
151, 170, 171, 185, 187, 240, 
242, 325. 
Richard III., 181-185. 
The Tempest, 176, 264, 265. 
Southey, 345. 
Spencer, 56. 
Sprague, 101. 
Storrs, 153. 
Sumner, 88. 

Taylor, 155. 
Tennyson, 51, 193. 
Thackeray, 158. 

Webster, 57, 61, 66, 88, 156, 164, 

215, 223, 241, 257, 258, 304. 
Whittier, 305. 
Willis, 193, 337. 

Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Nov. 2007 



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