A SYSTEM
OF
ELOCUTION,
WITH
SPECIAL REFERENCE
GESTURE,
TO THE TREATMENT OK
STAMMERING,
AND
DEFECTIVE ARTICULATION,
iOMPRISING NUMEROUS DIAGRAMS, A N D E N G.R-A, V E D
FIGURES, ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE SU '
^FI;
BY ANDREW COMSTOCK, M.D.
PRINCIPAL OF THE VOCAL AND POLYGLOTT GYMNASIUM.
Cnn Elucution be taught 7 This question has heretofore been Hsked through ignorance:
it shall hereafter he asked, only through folly. Rush's Philosophy of the Human Voice*
TWELFTH EDITION, ENLARGED.
PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY E. H. BUTLER & CO.
1853.
PA/4//!
Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1845, by
ANDREW COMSTOCK, M. D.,
In the office of the clerk of the district court of the United State* in and
for the eastern district of Pennsylvania.
STEREOTYPED BY J. FAGAN.
PRINTED BY C. SHERMAN.
THIS work is a system of Theoretical
and Practical Elocution. It is de-
signed for the use of Schools and Colleges,
as well as for the instruction of private
individuals who desire to improve them-
selves in the art of reading and speaking.
The arrangement of the several parts of
the work is strictly systematic: each is
discussed in its natural order, and with as
much brevity as consists with perspicuity.
The analysis of the vocal elements of
the English language, and the minute de-
scription which is given of their organic
formation, will be found important, not
only to the American who is desirous of
accurate knowledge upon this subject, but
also to the foreigner who is learning to
speak our vernacular tongue. And the
engravings, indicating the most favourable
postures of the mouth in the energetic
utterance of the elements, will be found
a valuable auxiliary in the acquisition of
this knowledge.
(3)
IV PREFACE.
In ordinary works on Elocution, the inflections of the
voice are given, but not the changes of pitch, which
constitute melody. In this work, however, not only are
the inflections and the melody given, but also those tran-
sitions in pitch, called modulation, or a change of key
My method of representing the melody and modula
tions of the speaking voice, is original ; and, I feel con-
fident, it will prove of singular advantage to the Stu-
dent in Elocution.
The part on gesture is extracted, principally, from
Austin's Chironomia, a work which is extremely rare,
and one whose great size and expense are insuperable
obstacles to its general introduction. All, however,
that is particularly valuable, which the Chironomia con-
tains on the subject of gesture, is here presented to the
reader in the compass of a few pages. Austin's system
of notation of gesture is of great practical utility.
This will appear evident to the reader when he shall
have learned that, by its application, all the gestures
which an orator makes, in the delivery of a discourse,
may be accurately recorded for his own practice and
improvement, as well as for the benefit of posterity.
In the practical part of this work, are Exercises in
Articulation, Pitch, Force, Time, and Gesture. These
are important, not only to the Student in Elocution, but
also to the Stammerer. In training the muscles of
speech, as well as those of gesticulation, I begin with
exercises of the most energetic kind; because these
only will produce the desired effect: by diligently prac-
tising energetic exercises, the Student soon acquires a
strength and compass of voice, a distinctness of utter-
ance, and a freedom and gracefulness of action, which
PREFACE.
he could not attain by practising those of an opposite
character.
The Exercises in Reading and Declamation have
been taken from some of the best ancient and modern
authors ; and they are well adapted to the purposes of
the Student in Elocution. They are divided into para-
graphs, and subdivided into sections. The latter divi-
sion is marked by vertical bars. In concert reading,
as soon as a section is pronounced by the teacher, the
members of the class should repeat it together, in the
proper pitch and time, and with the requisite degree of
force. When a paragraph shall have been pronounced
in this way, it should be read singly by each member
of the class. Sometimes it will be found advantageous
to let each pupil, in turn, give out a piece, and the other
members of the class repeat it after him ; the teacher,
meanwhile, making the necessary corrections. In fine,
the exercise of reading should be practised in a variety
of ways according to circumstances. When a piece
is given out with gesticulation, the members of the class
should rise simultaneously, immediately after the first
section is pronounced, and repeat the words and ges-
ture. As the organs of speech require much training
to enable them to perform their functions properly, the
pupil should repeat the same exercise till he can articu-
late every element, and give to each syllable the pitch,
force, and time which the sentiment demands.
The art of reading and speaking is not inferior in
importance to any branch of learning ; yet there is none
more generally neglected. While many of the merely
ornamental branches are cultivated with zealous assi-
duity, Elocution is allowed, at best, but a feeble sup-
1*
VI PREFACE.
port. Among the numerous colleges with which our
country abounds, there is not, perhaps, a single one
endowed with a professorship of Elocution ! And
among our numerous public speakers, how small a num-
ber can deliver a discourse without having half the body
concealed by a desk or table ! The orators of classic
Greece never ensconced themselves behind elevated
desks, nor " stood upon all fours," as some of our public
speakers do :* they \yere masters of their art. Hence
they needed no screen to conceal uncouth attitudes and
awkward gestures from the scrutinizing eye of criti-
cism ; nor had occasion to present the crown of the
head, instead of the face, to the audience, to hide the
blush of ignorance : they exposed the whole person to
the audience ; they stood erect, in all the dignity of con-
scious worth; their attitudes were fit models for the
statuary; their gestures were replete with grace and
expression ; their elocution defied criticism.
Let us endeavour to restore Elocution to its former
place in the department of useful instruction. Nothing
is wanted but a correct medium, laudable ambition, and
common industry, to enable our American youth to
rival those ancient orators whose eloquence, it is said,
" shook distant thrones, and made the extremities of the
earth tremble."
ANDREW COMSTOCK.
Philadelphia, November 20, 1841.
* See Figure 1, page 70.
NOTE. The Figures which illustrate the subject of this work,
were drawn and engraved by Croome and Minot; the Diagrams
were engraved by Mumford.
CONTENTS.
ELOCUTION.
Pag.
Introduction 11
Preliminary Observations 14
Elocution . 15
PART I.
VOCAL GYMNASTICS.
Vocal Gymnastics 15
Articulation 16
Elements of the English Language 18
Classification of the Elements 19
The Vowels 21
The Sub-vowels 23
The Aspirates 25
The Postures of the Mouth 27
Defective Articulation 30
Lisping 32
Stammering 33
Pitch 38
Keys of the Speaking Voice 46
Inflections 47
Melody 52
Modulation 53
Force 59
Time 63
PART II.
GESTURE.
Gesture 69
Postures of the Body 69
Postures unfavourable to Vocal Delivery 70
(7)
/ill CONTENTS.
Postures favourable to Vocal Delivery 71
Demonstrating on the Black-board 71
Manner of Holding the Book 72
Notation of Gesture 73
Positions of the Feet and Lower Limbs 76
Positions, Motions, and Elevations of the Arms 84
Postures and Motions of the Hands 93
The Head, the Eyes, the Shoulders, and the Body 104
The Stroke and Time of Gesture 105
The Classification of Gesture 108
The Preparation, Transition, and Accompaniment of Gesture. 113
The Frequency, Moderation, and Intermission of Gesture. . . . 123
The Qualities of Gesture, and the Gesture suited to different
modes of Public Speaking 125
Significant Gestures 129
Grace 131
Synoptical Arrangement of the Notation Letters 134
Application of the Notation Letters 136
Questions to be answered by the Pupil 159
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
PART I.
EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION, PITCH, FORCE, TIME,
AND GESTURE.
Exercises in Articulation, Pitch, Force, Time, and Gesture . . 167
Table of the Elements of the English Language 167
Emphasis Melodies 172
Interrogative Sentences 174
Force 176
Modulation 176
Tremour 177
Time and Gesture 178
Method of Beating Time with the Dumb-Bells 178
Syllable Rhythm 179
Poetry Rhythm 179
First Period of Gesture 182
Second Period of Gesture 183
Pronunciation 184
Declamation 184
Method of Teaching Declamation 185
Speech of Satan to his Legions, with Gestures 185
The Miser and Plutus, with Gestures 192
CONTENTS.
PART II.
EXERCISES IN READING AND DECLAMATION.
Account Current Anonymous 358
Adams and Jefferson Wirt 353
An Address to a Young Student Knox 356
Antony's Oration over Cffisar's Body Shakspeare 252
Apostrophe to Light Milton 228
Apostrophe to the Queen of Prance Burke 209
Battle of Hohenlinden Campbell 204
Battle of Warsaw Campbell 210
Battle of Waterloo Byron 211
Brutus's Oration on the Death of Caesar Shakspeare 250
Casabianca Mrs. Hemans 338
Cato's Senate Addison 235
Cato's Soliloquy Addison 248
Character of Pitt Robertson 286
Childe Harold's Address to the Ocean Byron 206
Clarence's Dream Shakspeare 287
Darkness Byron 232
Declaration of Independence Jefferson 306
Douglas's Account of Himself Home 304
Edward and Warwick 221
Elegy written in a Country Churchyard Gray 300
Extract from a supposed Speech of John Adams, in support of
American Independence Webster 363
Genius Akenside 321
God Derzhavin 267
Greatness Akenside 322
Hamlet's Soliloquy Shakspeare 249
Happy Freedom of the Man whom Grace makes Fiee.Cowper 279
Hyder Ali , Burke 230
Hymn to the Deity Thomson 262
Industry necessary to the Attainment of Eloquence Ware 333
Knowledge De Witt Clinton 364
Lines supposed to have been written by Alexander Selkirk, dur-
ing his solitary abode on the Island of Juan Fernandez Cowper 179
Lochiel's Warning Campbell 217
Lochinvar Scott 336
Marco Bozzaris Halleck 213
Mariner's Hymn Mrs. Southey 298
Meeting of Satan, Sin, and Death Milton 339
Moses Smiting the Rock Van Vranken 326
Motives to the Practice of Gentleness Blair 329
Night Thoughts Young 315
X CONTENTS.
Ode on the Passions Collins 256
Ossian's Address to the Sun 203
Paper Franklin 325
Perpetual Adoration Moore 294
Pitt's Reply to Walpole 319
Reception of Columbus on his return to Spain W. Irving 349
Scene from Pizarro Kotzebue 295
Schemes of Life often Illusory Dr. Johnson 359
Sincerity Tilhtson 343
Speech of Cicero against Verres 244
Speech of Lord Chatham 225
Speech of Patrick Henry 259
Speech of Rolla R. B. Sheridan 205
Speech of Satan to his Legions Milton 201
Speech of Satan, with Gestures 185
Tell's Address to the Mountains Knowles 203
Thanatopsis Bryant 241
The American Flag Drake <$> Hallcck 328
The Burial of Sir John Moore Wolfe 281
The Chameleon Merrick 275
The Exile of Erin Campbell 280
The Destruction of Senacherib Byron 335
The Grave of Franklin Miss C. H. Waterman 305
The Heavens and the Earth show the Glory and Wisdom of.
their Creator Goldsmith 282
The Hermit Beattie 220
The Importance of Order in the Distribution of our Time Blair 331
The Invocation Mrs. Hemans 278
The Journey of a Day Dr. Johnson 311
The Land that we Live in C. W. Thomson 316
The Mariner's Dream Dimond 265
The Miser and Plutus Gay 138
The Miser and Plutus, with Gestures 192
The Rose Cowper 181
The Three Warnings Mrs. Thrale 272
The Union of the States Webster 345
Time Van Vranken 327
To the Ursa Major Ware 290
Without God in the World Rev. Robert Hall 270
Wolsey's Farewell to Cromwell Shakspeare 318
Wolsey's Soliloquy Shakspeare 317
Woman R. H. Townsend 255
Woman Campbell 342
INTRODUCTIO
// >^ n> ^^. KS
te
x&
A N is designed for action. Na-
ture has so constituted him, that
both body and mind require
daily exercise to develope their
powers, and maintain them in a
vigorous and healthy condition.
The truth of this remark is
manifest from constant observation and experience those
who lead active, bustling lives, conjoined with temperance
and prudence, commonly possess robust frames, and healthy
constitutions; while the sedentary and the indolent are
enervated and sickly.
We find the same results from the exercise of the mental
faculties. He whose mind is constantly employed in the
acquisition of knowledge, usually retains his mental facul-
ties unimpaired to the last. But not so with the man of ease
and indolence. After the meridian of life, the powers of his
mind, with those of the body, become weaker, and weaker,
and he finally leaves the world as he entered it a child.
The health and strength of the body, therefore, mainly
depend on the number of muscles that are frequently called
into action, and the degree of rational exercise through
which they pass. Now there are few, if any, whose daily
avocations are so varied as to bring into requisition all the
muscles of the body : hence the necessity of gymnastic exer-
cises.
The term, gymnastics, in its widest sense, signifies all
bodily exercises; in a more limited sense, "exercises syste-
matically adapted to develope the physical powers, and pre-
serve them in perfection, which constitutes the art of gym*
nasties properly so called."
(ii)
12 INTRODUCTION.
These exercises, when commenced in youth, develope the
muscles, give agility to the limbs, and promote the various
lunctions of the animal system: in this way they impart
strength and consistency to the body, and lay the founda-
tion of lasting health : and even when commenced in man-
hood, they invigorate the frame, and brace it against the
infirmities of age.
By the frequent and energetic exercise of the muscles,
they are brought completely under the control of volition,
which is a powerful auxiliary to every variety of action.
Hence Gymnastics are not only useful because they exert a
healthful influence upon the body ; but because they lay a
good, foundation for the easy acquisition of every mechanic
art.
From what has been said of Gymnastics in general, it may
readily be conceived that very important advantages may
be derived from vocal gymnastics.
By the term, VOCAL GYMNASTICS, may be understood the
principles of the human voice as employed in speech and
song, as well as the training of the organs by which this
voice is produced. The principles are the science of the
voice the training, the exercise of the organs, necessary
to develope their powers, and enable them to act with rapid-
ity, precision, and effect.
Vocal Gymnastics give the pupil complete command of
the muscles of articulation, extend the compass of the voice,
and render it smooth, powerful, and melodious. They not
only call forth all the energies of the vocal organs, correct
stammering, lisping, &c. ; but they invigorate the lungs, and,
consequently, fortify them against the invasion of disease.
All the blood, in the course of its circulation, passes through
the lungs, where it undergoes a change, not only essential
to health, but also to life. Whenever their function, there-
fore, is interrupted by debility, or disease, the blood is dete-
riorated, and the whole system suffers; in fact, the very
citadel of life is sapped, and nothing but a restoration of
these organs to their natural condition, will effect a return
of general health. Indeed, the lungs are of so much impor-
INTRODUCTION. 13
tance in the animal economy, that the complete suspension
of their office is followed by speedy dissolution.
Hence such healthful measures should be adopted as are
calculated to invigorate the pulmonary apparatus, and ena-
ble it to maintain its integrity. One of the most hopeful
expedients for this purpose, is a well-regulated and perse-
vering course of vocal gymnastics.
Were we to exercise our voices a few minutes, every day,
according to just principles, the number of deaths from pul-
monary affections, especially consumption, I have no doubt,
would be greatly diminished.
While Vocal Gymnastics give a keenness to appetite, they
are a powerful means of promoting digestion. A young
clergyman entered my Vocal Gymnasium, for the purpose
of improving his elocution as well as his health. He laboured
under dyspepsia which was attended with loss of appetite,
general debility, languor, and dejection of spirits. But in
twelve days after he commenced the exercises, there was a
radical change in his mental and physical condition : he had
become very cheerful ; and, to use his own words, his appe-
tite was ravenous. Nor is this a solitary case numerous
others might be cited with the like happy result.
My pupils have frequently told me that they always feel
invigorated by the exercises. A gentleman who was for-
merly a pupil of mine, and who had been in the practice of
resorting to a common gymnasium for the benefit of his
health, assured me that he derived more advantage from his
vocal, than from his athletic exercises. Let the individuals,
therefore, who visit those gymnasia, designed only for the
exercise of the limbs, not neglect the equally important
gymnastics of the pulmonary organs.
2
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
As ELOCUTION is intimately connected with the voice, and
as every reader may not be prepared to enter upon a minute
development of its various principles, the following Prelimi-
nary Observations may be of some advantage.
Voice is sound, produced by the agitation of air when
forcibly expelled from the lungs.
The attributes of the voice, are general and special. The
general attributes are pitch and force, and are common to
all voices. The special attributes are those peculiarities
which render one voice more agreeable, or disagreeable,
than another, as sweetness, harshness, &c.
The acuteness and gravity of the voice depend on the
contractions and dilatations of the vocal tube.
The degree of loudness of the voice, is in proportion to the
expulsive effort, and to the resistance which the air meets
on its passage through the glottis.
When air is forcibly expelled from the lungs, and not suf-
ficient resistance given to its egress to produce what is gene-
rally understood by the term voice, an aspirated, or whis-
pered sound is the result.
From voice articulated by the motions of the lips, tongue,
and other parts of the mouth, is produced oral language.
Hence oral language is not inaptly termed articulated voice.
There are two varieties of oral language song, and speech.
In several respects they resemble each other. Thus the
notes, both of song, and speech, var)*- in pitch, force, and
time. The most striking difference between them, is this :
a note of song is maintained in one range of pitch from its
commencement to its termination ; but a note of speech is
varied in pitch during its prolongation. If you prolong the
letter a, in one range of pitch, thus :
a
you will have an example of a note of song. If you Utter it
interrogatively, and affirmatively, thus :
a"\ d.
you will have two varieties of the note of speech : the voice
in the interrogation, moving from a grave pitch to one more
acute ; in the affirmation, from acute to grave.
Perhaps enough has been said by way of preliminaries.
The principles here mentioned, together with the various
others, are methodically presented, fully discussed, and dia-
gramically illustrated, in the course of the work.
(14)'
ELOCUTION.
LOCUTION is vocal delivery.
It may be said to comprise both a
science f and an art. The science
embraces the principles which con-
stitute the basis of reading and
speaking ; the art, the practical ap-
plication of these principles.
Elocution is naturally divided into two parts ; namely,
Vocal Gymnastics, and Gesture.
Vocal Gymnastics is the philosophy of the human
voice, as well as the art of training the vocal organs
in speech and song.
Gesture is the various postures, and motions, em-
ployed in vocal delivery.
PART I.
VOCAL GYMNASTICS.
IOCAL GYMNASTICSisthe
philosophy of the human voice,
as well as the art of training
the vocal organs, in speech and
song.
Vocal Gymnastics is subdi-
vided as follows :
1. ARTICULATION, 3. FORCE,
2. PITCH, 4. TIME.
ARTICULATION is the act of forming, with the organs
of speech, the elements of vocal language.
PITCH is the degree of the elevation of sounds.
16 ELOCUTION.
FORCE is the degree of the loudness of sounds.
TIME is the measure of sounds in regard to their
duration.
SECTION I.
ARTICULATION.
RTICULATIONistheactof
' c forming,with the organs of speech,
the elements of vocal language.
These elements may be formed
separately, as in the utterance of
the letters of the alphabet, as
well as conjunctively, as in the
pronunciation of words.
By the utterance of the letters of the alphabet is not meant the
pronunciation of the mere names of the letters, but the formation
of the various sounds which the letters represent.
A good articulation is the perfect utterance of the
elements of vocal language.
The first step towards becoming a good elocutionist,
is a correct articulation. " A public speaker, possessed
of only a moderate voice, if he articulates correctly,
will be better understood, and heard with greater
pleasure, than one who vociferates without judgment.
The voice of the latter may indeed extend to a conside-
rable distance, but the sound is dissipated in confusion.
Of the former voice not the smallest vibration is wast-
ed, every stroke is perceived at the utmost distance to
which it reaches ; and hence it has often the appear-
ance of penetrating even farther than one which is
loud, but badly articulated.
" In just articulation, the words are not to be hurried
over, nor precipitated syllable over syllable ; nor, as it
were, melted together into a mass of confusion : they
ARTICULATION. 17
should not be trailed, or drawled, nor permitted to slip
out carelessly, so as to drop unfinished. They should
be delivered from the lips as beautiful coins newly
issued from the mint, deeply and accurately impressed,
neatly struck by the proper organs, distinct, in due
succession, and of due weight."*
Without good articulation, it is impossible to be &
correct reader, or speaker. Those who have been ac
customed to pronounce their words in a careless or slo-
venly manner, will find it difficult, even with their
best efforts, to utter them distinctly. The organs of
articulation, for the want of proper exercise, become,
as it were, paralyzed. The pupil, therefore, at the
very commencement of his studies, should be conduct-
ed through a series of exercises, calculated to strengthen
the muscles of articulation, and render them obedient
to the will. The best method for effecting these pur-
poses, is to exercise the voice on the elements of speech ;
first, on each element separately ; f secondly, on va-
rious combinations.
Under the head, PRACTICAL ELOCUTION, will be found a variety
of Exercises on the Elements of the English language, which are
calculated to develope the voice, increase its compass, and give
flexibility to the muscles of articulation. In that part of this work
which consists of EXERCISES IN READING AND DECLAMATION, most
of the sounds liable to be omitted or imperfectly articulated, are re-
presented by italic letters. Hence the reader, if he pay proper
attention to the subject, will have no difficulty in correcting all
ordinary defects in his utterance.
The value of vocal gymnastics cannot be duly appreciated by
those who have not experienced, or witnessed, their beneficial re-
sults. But, I feel confident, the time is not far distant when these
exercises will be considered, by all intelligent persons, an essential
part of primary instruction.
* AUSTIN'S CHIRONOMIA, p. 37, 38.
t " When the elements are pronounced singly, they may re-
ceive a concentration of the organic effort, which gives them a
clearness of sound and a definite outline, if I may so speak, at their
extremes, that make a fine preparative for a distinct and forcible
pronunciation in the compounds of speech." Rush's Philosophy
of the Human Voice.
2* B
18 ELOCUTION.
CHAPTER I.
THE ELEMENTS OP THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.
THE Elements of vocal language are the Sounds of
which words are composed. These sounds are repre-
sented by graphic characters, called letters.
The number of letters in the English language, is
twenty-six ; but the number of elements is thirty-eight.
Hence, as the number of elements exceeds the number
of their literal signs, the same letter is employed, in
different situations, to represent different sounds/ Thus
a represents four different sounds ; e, two ; i, two ; o,
three ; u, three ; z, two ; and there are six sounds, each
of which is represented by two letters ou, ng, sh, wk,
th in then, and th in thin. - (See p. 19 and 20.) If we
had a perfect alphabet, every elementary sound would
be represented by its appropriate character.*
* That men have accomplished much by furnishing the world
with literature, art, and science, will be conceded by all. Nor will
it be denied by any that there remains much to be done to carry all
human institutions to their acme of excellence. Among the nu-
merous proofs that our institutions have not attained their highest
possible degree of perfection, is the fact that the world is now fur-
nished with as much genius for contrivance, wisdom for invention,
and judgment for application, as at any former period. He, there-
fore, who advocates the doctrine of present perfection in human
productions, suggests, at least, the possibility that that amount of
mind which is unnecessary to the successful application of the pre-
sent principles, means, and inventions to their respective purposes,
is rendered a redundancy by the want of appropriate subjects upon
which to operate. The English language, though by no means far
advanced in years, has already been the subject of much concur-
rent, and individual action ; yet there is hardly one part of it which
is not marred with defect, or deficiency. Even the English alpha-
bet suffers from both these imperfections. To attain perfection in
any thing, is, perhaps, beyond the power of man, especially in the
medium of communicating his ideas. But although perfection in lan-
guage can hardly be expected, yet, there is a degree of excellence
which is not so difficult of attainment as to render all exertion una-
ARTICULATION.
19
The elements, as well as the letters by which they
are represented, are usually divided into two classes,
Vowels and Consonants. A more philosophical divi-
sion, however, is into three classes, Vowels, Subvowels,
and Aspirates.
The vowels are pure vocal sounds ; their number is
fifteen.
The subvowels have a vocality, but inferior to that
of the vowels ; their number is fourteen.
The aspirates are made with the whispering breath,
and, consequently, have no vocality ; they are nine in
number.
Classification of the Elements.
VOWELS.
1
i
6
6
6
fc
ft
ou
English.
as heard in ale, day, fate,
arm, farm,
all, law, for,
an, man, idea,
eve, see, deed,
end, met, err,
ile, fly, pine,
in, pin,
old, no, more,
lose, too, move,
on, lock, not,
twbe, few, pupil,
up, her, Imrt,
full, pull, wolf,
our, now, flowr,
French,
and in eie.
arme, gaz, gaze.
aller.
tie,
elle.
~
eau.
vowte.
ecole.
.Europe.
ou.
vailing. There are thirty-eight elements in theEnglish alphabet, and,
to represent these elements by appropriate characters, we should
have thirty-eight letters. There is, then, a deficiency in our alphabet
of twelve letters and he who shall supply this imperfection, will
be one of the greatest benefactors of the human race. This work
must be done before our orthography can be rendered consistent,
our pronunciation natural and uniform, and our language easy of
acquisition. Until this is accomplished, words must be spelled one
way, and pronounced another indeed, two languages must be
learned, instead of one. Should the English language, as some
confidently expect, become the language of the world, the advan-
tages in which a complete alphabet would result, can be conceived
by those only who have duly reflected upon the subject
20 ELOCUTION.
SUBVOWELS. English. French.
b as heard in bow, or&, barb, and in bon.
d ......... day, bid, did, ..... Dieu.
......... Zight, all, lull, ..... Zoup
m ......... mind, storm, maim, ..... won.
n ......... no, on, nine, ..... won.
ng ......... song, think, ..... ag-weau (nearly).
r ...... . . roll, war, rare, ..... roue.
TH ......... i-nen, wiTH, ..... -
v ......... vile, Hue, value, ..... uil.
w ......... wo, went, w>orld, ..... oui (nearly).
y ......... yoke, yonder, ..... yacht.
is ......... zone, his, prism, ..... zone.
J ......... azure, enclosure, ..... jardin.
ASPIRATES.
f ......... fame, if, drift, ..... /emme.
h ......... hut, Aence, ..... -
k ......... /cite, wrecit, kick, ..... cor.
p ......... pit, up, ..... joapa.r
s ......... sin, nice, crisp, ..... soeur.
sh ......... shade, push, flushed, ..... chaise.
t ......... tin, it, tart, ..... tour.
th ......... thin, truth, months, ..... -
wh ......... what, when, which, ..... -
The reader may ask why C, J, Q, and X, have not been classed
with the elements. These letters have no sounds which are not
represented, in the above scheme, by other letters. C has three
sounds the sound of k, as in cat; that of s, as in cedar, and that
of sh, as in ocean. J expresses the combined sounds of d and z in
azure. Q has the sound of k. X, as in exercise, expresses the
combined sounds of A; and s ; in example, the combined sounds of
g and 2 in zone ; in anxious, the combined sounds of k and sh. In
Xenophon, x has the sound of z in zone.*
* X in Xenophon was pronounced by the ancient Greeks as we
pronounce x in exercise, thus Ksenophon; and 1 am informed by
Mr. Castanis, a native of the island of Scio, that the modern Greeks
BO pronounce it.
ARTIC LJLATION. 21
CHAPTER IL
THE VOWELS.
THE vowels are divided into Monothongs, Diph-
thongs, and Triphthongs.
The Monothongs consist of one kind of sound through-
out their concrete movement, and consequently are
simple elements ; they are represented by the italics in
the following words :
arm, all, an, eve, end, in, on, up, full.
The Diphthongs consist of two vowel sounds, which
coalesce so intimately that they appear like one uni-
form sound ; they are represented by the italics in the
following words :
ale, tie, lose, tube.
The diphthong a, as well as i, has a characteristic
sound for its radical, and the monothong, !, for its van-
ish. These diphthongs, under certain circumstances
(for instance, when they are carried through a wide
range of pitch, as in interrogation with surprise), are
converted into triphthongs, the third constituent being
the monothong, e.
The diphthong 6, as well as u, has a characteristic
sound for its radical, and the subvowel w, for its vanish.
The Triphthongs consist of three vowel sounds which
coalesce so intimately that they appear like one uni-
form sound ; they are represented by the italics, in the
following words :
old, our.
The first constituent of 6, as well as that of ou, is a
sound characteristic of this element; and the diph-
thong 6 constitutes the second and the third constitu-
ent of these triphthongs.
The following scheme is an analysis of the diph-
thongs and triphthongs. The reader will observe that
22
ELOCUTION.
the letters which are employed to represent the diph-
thongs and triphthongs, are used under the head, Con-
stituents, to represent their radicals only.
Diphthongs. Constituents.
cl A I
i 1 i
6 6 w
u ft w
Triphthongs. Constituents.
'k* i I fe
6
ou
6 6 w
ou 6 w
There is one diphthong, and three triphthongs, be-
sides those already noticed; they are represented by
the italics, in the following words :
oil, ay, boy, buoy.
But, as all their constituents are to be found among
the fifteen vowels before enumerated, they do not in-
crease the number of the elements. This may be seen
by the following analysis :
Diphthong. Constituents.
oi I
Triphthongs. Constituents,
ay & i
oy i I
uoy 6 1 &
During the utterance of a monothong, the aperture
of the mouth remains stationary ; but during that of a
diphthong, or triphthong, the aperture is gradually di-
minished till the commencement of the last constituent;
it then remains stationary till the sound is ended.
This is illustrated by the following diagrams :
Diagram 1. Diag. 2. Diag. 3.
The opening of the tube (Diag. 1,) represents the
aperture of the mouth in the utterance of the mono-
* I have said that & and 1 are sometimes diphthongs, and some-
times triphthongs ; hence, above, they appear under both heads.
ARTICULATION. 23
thong a, and the length of the tube represents the du-
ration of the sound.
The large end of Diag. 2 represents the aperture of
the mouth in commencing the utterance of the diph-
thong 6 the portion of the figure between 6 and iv,
shows the gradual diminution of the aperture of the
mouth during the utterance of the first constituent, and
the remaining portion shows the stationary position of
the aperture of the mouth during the utterance of the
second constituent.
The large end of Diag. 3, represents the aperture of
the mouth in commencing the utterance of the triph-
thong 6 the portion of the figure between 6 and 6,
shows the gradual diminution of the aperture of the
mouth during the utterance of the first constituent
the portion between 6 and w, shows the gradual dimi-
nution of the aperture of the mouth during the utter-
ance of the second constituent ; and the remaining por-
tion of the figure, the stationary position of the aperture
of the mouth during the utterance of the third constitu-
ent.
CHAPTER III.
THE SUBVOWELS.
B CONSISTS of a vocal sound and an aspirate. The
first constituent is formed with the lips closed ; the
second, by aspirating the vowel u, at the moment of
their separation.*
When B is doubled, as in rabbit, the second constituent of the
first B is omitted. When B is whispered, the second constituent
only is heard. When words in which B is doubled are whispered,
the first B is mute.
D consists of a vocal sound and an aspirate. The
first constituent is formed with the tip of the tongue
* Care should be taken not to make the second constituent vocal.
24 ELOCUTION
pressed against the gums of the upper incisory teeth ;
the second, by aspirating the vowel u at the moment
of its removal.*
When D is doubled, as in addition, the second constituent of the
first D is omitted. When D is whispered, the second constituent
only is heard. When words in which D is doubled are whispered,
the first D is mute.
G consists of a vocal sound and an aspirate. The
first constituent is formed with the root of the tongue
pressed against the curtain, or vail of the palate ; f the
second, by aspirating the vowel u at the moment of its
removal.*
When G is doubled, as in haggard, the second constituent of
the first G is omitted. When G is whispered, the second constitu-
ent only is heard. When words in which G is doubled are whis-
pered, the first G is mute.
L is a vocal sound, made with the tip of the tongue
pressed against the gums of the upper incisory teeth.
M is a nasal sound, made with the lips closed.
N is a nasal sound, formed with the tip of the tongue
pressed against the gums of the upper incisory teeth.
NG, as in song, is a nasal sound, formed with the
root of the tongue pressed gently against the curtain
of the palate.
R is a vocal sound, of which there are two varieties.
The first is called the trilled R, and is made by caus-
ing the tongue to vibrate against the gums of the upper
incisor teeth, while the breath is propelled through the
mouth ; the second is called the smooth R, and is made
with the tip of the tongue elevated towards the centre
of the roof of the mouth. R should be trilled when it
precedes a vowel, as in roll, crush, &c, ; but when it
follows a vowel, as in air, orb, &c., it should be made
smooth.
I have met with a number of individuals who could not trill the
R, and others who did it with difficulty. Those who cannot trill it
Care should be taken not to make the second constituent vocal.
In the language of anatomy, velum pendulum palati.
ARTICULATION. 25
in a graceful manner, had oetter not attempt it in public ; let such,
however, not despair their vocal organs may be rendered flexible
by frequent and energetic exercise.
TH, as in then, is a compound of vocality and aspi-
ration, formed with the tip of the tongue resting against
the inner surface of the upper incisory teeth.
V is a compound of vocality and aspiration. It is
formed with the under lip pressed against the edge of
the upper incisory teeth.
W is a vocal sound, formed with the lips contracted
as in the act of whistling.
Y is a vocal sound, formed with the lips and teeth a
little separated.
Z, as in zone, is a buzzing sound, a compound of vo-
cality and aspiration. It is formed by pressing the
tip of the tongue gently against the gums of the upper
incisors, and forcing out the breath.
Z, as in azure, is a compound of vocality and aspi-
ration. It is formed with the tip of the tongue nearly
in the same position as is z in zone, though dra\vn a
little further back, and somewhat widened, so as to
enlarge the aperture formed by its upper surface and
the roof of the mouth, through which the breath is
forced.
CHAPTER IV.
THE ASPIRATES.
F, LIKE V, is formed with the under lip pressed
against the upper incisory teeth.
H is the inceptive part of a vowel sound, aspirated
in a particular way. H may be uttered in as many
varieties of ways a.s there are vowels in the language ;
each requiring the same posture of the mouth, which
the vowel itself requires.
K is formed by pressing the root of the tongue against
26 ELOCUTION.
the curtain of the palate, and then aspirating the
vowel u.
When this element is doubled, as infakle (pronounced flkkl) the
first k is mute.
P is formed by closing the lips, and then aspirating
the vowel u.
When this element is doubled, as in happy, the first P is mute.
S is a hissing sound, and, like z in zone, is formed
with the tip of the tongue pressed gently against the
gums of the upper incisory teeth. It is nearly the same
as z in zone aspirated.
SH is formed with the tongue in the same position
as is z in azure. SH is nearly the same sound as z in
azure, aspirated.
T is formed by pressing the tip of the tongue against
the gums of the upper incisory teeth, and then aspirat-
ing the vowel u.*
When T is doubled, as in attempt, the first T is mute.
TH, as in thin, like th in then, is formed with the
tip of the tongue pressed against the upper incisory
teeth. It is nearly the same sound as the subvowel
TH aspirated.
WH is the inceptive part of the vowel u aspirated
in a particular way. The sound which is produced,
in the formation of this element, is nearly the same as
hu, whispered. WH requires the s;i.me posture of the
mouth that the vowe* u requires.
That hu and wh are n t identical, may be proved by pronounc-
ing 1 , alternately, the wo ds hoom and whoom, and observing the
contrast between them.
* Although of no practical importance, it may not be uninterest-
ing to the philosophic reader to know that the, second constituent
of the subvowels B, D, G, and of the aspirnVt, K, P, T, is formed
by aspirating the vowel ft only when these elements are uttered
singly, when they are final, and when they .re followed by a con-
sonant. When they are followed by a t".\' < . their second consti-
tuent is formed by aspirating that vowel >s may be rendered
obvious by pronouncing forcibly, and del ly, the words, Bay,
Day, Gay, and Kay, Pay, Tay, or any oth^r words, in which B, D,
G, and K, P, T are followed by vowels.
ARTICULATION. 27
CHAPTER V.
THE POSTURES OF THE MODTH.
AN accurate knowledge of the positions which the
organs of articulation should assume in the formation
of the several elements of vocal language, is very im-
portant to those who would speak with ease and ele-
gance. To aid the reader still further in the acquisi-
tion of this knowledge, he is furnished with the various
postures of the mouth, required in uttering the elements
energetically, and singly.
The elements are grouped according to the posture
in which the mouth should be when they are formed.
It will be seen that the Diphthongs and Triphthongs
have each two postures of the mouth one at the
commencement, the other at the termination of the sound.
These postures are, of course, more or less modified,
when the elements are uttered in their various combi-
nations, and with different degrees of force.
The pupil should exercise his organs of speech, in the
most forcible manner, three times a week, and, if pos-
sible, even every day, on all the elements. The vow-
els should be exploded from the throat, both interroga-
tively and affirmatively, in every range of pitch within
the compass of the voice, and with every possible de-
gree of force.
The vowels are exploded in the following manner:
make a full inspiration, close the glottis, and contract
the muscles of expiration so as to condense the air in
the lungs, then utter the element with a sudden and
forcible emission of the breath. The sounds thus pro-
duced may be denominated vocal thunder; the effect
upon an audience! is electrical.
This exercise strengthens the vocal organs, and ena-
bles the speaker to be heard at a great distance, with
very little effort, pr expenditure of breath. It is also
beneficial to healli'.
28
ELOCUTION
yoke
azure 1
sha.de)
ARTICULATION.
29
30 ELOCUTION.
CHAPTER VI.
DEFECTIVE ARTICULATION.
ARTICULATION is defective when one or more ele-
ments of a word are omitted, or imperfectly formed ; or
when one element is substituted for another.
Defective articulation is exceedingly common : per-
haps there is not one individual in ten thousand whose
articulation is perfect. This arises from the neglect of
a proper gymnastic training of the organs of speech in
childhood. As soon as children are capable of imitating
sounds, they should be taught the elements of vocal
language ; and, to facilitate their acquisition of this
knowledge, they should be made to exercise before a
mirror, so as to compare the movements of their own
lips with those of the lips of their instructor. By pur-
suing this course, a good foundation will be laid for a
perfect and graceful articulation.
In that part of this work which ^-"insists of EXERCISES
IN READING AND DECLAMATION, all, or nearly all, the
letters representing sounds liable to be omitted, or im-
perfectly articulated, are italicised. Hence it. is not
necessary to furnish examples, ar reat of the subject
minutely, in this place. There a r v, however, some in-
stances of defective articulation, v aich are not pointed
out by the italic letters these are so important that
they deserve special notice. I allude to those cases in
which one element is substituted for another. The
remainder of this chapter will be devoted to their con-
sideration.
Children are apt to substitute the sound of d for that
of g in gay ; and the sound of t for that of k, or c in
cat. Thus, for gay, they say day ; for cake, tate> &c.
To enable the pupil to correct these faults, I explain
to him the manner in which the sou* ds of g and k are
ARTICULATION. 31
produced they are formed by pressing the root of
the tongue against the soft palate, and not, like d and
t by pressing its tip against the gums of the upper
incisors. I then direct him to pronounce, after me, the
elements, d, g, and t, k, and the syllables da, ga 9 and
ta, ka, thus :
d, g; d,g; d, g; d, g; d, g; d, g; d, g; d, g; d, g.
t, k ; t, k ; t, k ; t, k ; t, k ; t, k ; t, k ; t, k ; t, k.
da, ga ; d^, g. ; da, gi ; da, ga ; d&, g& ; d, g ; &c.
ta, ka; t^, ka; ta, ka; ta, ka; t, k& ; tfe, k ; &c.
The object of this exercise is to contrast the substituted
sound with the correct one.
When this plan does not prove successful, I open my
mouth as widely as possible, so that the tip of the
tongue cannot touch the gums of the upper teeth, and
request the pupil to open his in like manner. I then
direct him to pronounce, after me, the following sylla-
bles :
ga, ga, ga, g ; ge, g ; gl, gl ; g6, g6, g6 ; gu, gu, gu ; gou.
ka, ka, ka, k& ; kfe, k ; kl, kl ; k6, k6, k6 ; ku, ki, ki ; kou.
ag, feg, ig, 6g, 6g, oug ; ak, 6k, Ik, 6k, fik, ouk.
When neither of these schemes proves successful, I
request the pupil to press his tongue downwards, and
backwards, with his index finger, while I do the same,
and pronounce, after me, the syllables in the preceding
exercise. This I have never known to fail.
Some children omit the element z, when it follows d,
and the element . -h when it follows t ; for instance, they
pronounce John, ?, and Charles, tarles, &c.* My
method of corm i i ig these defects is to contrast the
false pronunciation with the true one, as in the follow-
ing exercise :
da, d*a; da, .iia : da, d2a; da, dSa; dfe, d2&; &c.
ta, tsha; ta, t?hA; ta, tsha; ta, tsha ; t, tsh&; &c.
* J is a compound of d and z in azure; and ch is equivalent to
t*h.
32 ELOCUTION.
The v and w are confounded by some perons ; for
instance, when they would say vine, they say wine, and
vice versa. An attention to the proper postures of the
mouth, in the production of these elements will soon
enable the pupil to correct this fault.* (See pos-
tures of the mouth, page 28.) The following exercise,
founded on the principle of contrast, should be fre-
quently practised by the pupil, in the most energetic
manner.
v, wi ; vS,, W& ; 4 V&, wli ; v&, wS. ; ve, we ; ve, we ; &c.
w&, v&; w&, v; w, va ; wa, va; we, ve ; we, ve ; &c.
In correcting faults in articulation, I often find it
advantageous to exercise the pupil before a mirror, that
he may observe the contrast between the movements
of his own mouth, and those of mine.
LISPING.
Lisping is the substitution of the sound of th for that
of some other letter, generally for that of s in sin.
Thus the words, sale, send, sight, song, &c., are pro-
nounced thole, thend, thigh t, thong ,, &c.
The lisper should be told, that, it forming the sound
of th, the tip of the tongue is pressed gently against
the inner surface of the upper incisor teeth ; whereas,
in forming that of s, it is placed, in like manner, against
the gums of the upper incisor teeth. Hence, to avoid
making th for s, the tongue should be drawn back a
little, and its point turned upwar ainst the gums of
the upper teeth. In the correction >f lisping, the fol-
lowing exercise may be practised with advantage :
tha, sa; tha, sa; tha, sa ; tha, sa; J.i , se ; th, th ; &c.
* A young gentleman recently entered my institution who had
many faults in his utterance. Among other? was the singular one
of pronouncing vw for v: for vine, he said vwine; for vale, vwale,
&c. This, as well as the other numerous faults with which his
pronunciation was marred, arose from th'-; want of proper instruc-
tion upon the use of the organs of speech.
ARTICULATION. 33
The defects of articulation, in which one element
is substituted for another, are numerous ; but, as the
method of treatment is similar in all, it is presumed
enough has been said to enable the teacher to manage
them successfully, particularly as appropriate exer-
cises, for most of them, will be found in the practical
part of this work.
CHAPTER VII.
STAMMERING.
STAMMERING is a functional derangement of the or-
gans of speech, which renders them incapable, under
certain circumstances, of promptly obeying the com-
mands of the will.
In a majority of cases, the cause of this affection
operates through the medium of the mind.
Stammering is cured by a regular course of hygienic
elocution. But, as the disease exists under a variety
of forms, it requires a variety of treatment. And, as
the treatment is medico-elocutional, he who would
apply it successfully, must unite the skill of the elocu-
tionist with that of the physician. The idea that non-
medical men are capable of discharging the duties of
applying the remedies to complicated complaints of
the human body, is a sui generis in logic, and a bane
in the practice of the healing art.
As a full consideration of the subject of stammering
is not compatible with the design of this work ; and, as
I am preparing for publication another which will
treat exclusively of impediments of speech, I shall con-
clude the present chapter with the following
Remarks on Stammering, from a Lecture on Elocution
delivered before the American Lyceum, May 6, 1837,
by Andrew Comstock, M.D.
For the last ten years the author of these REMARKS has
been engaged in an investigation of the philosophy of the
c
34 ELOCUTION.
human voice, with a view to the formation of a system of
just ELOCUTION, and to the discovery of the true means for
removing IMPEDIMENTS OF SPEECH IN STAMMERERS. How far
he has succeeded in his attempt, is not for him to say. His
system is the result of his own reflection and experience ;
and, as it is founded in philosophy, it is the only true system.
The following pages contain the mere outlines of the system.
The work itself will be presented to the public as soon as
the author's other labours will permit.
Stammering or stuttering is a hesitation or interruption of speech,
and is usually attended with more or less distortion of feature.
This affection presents itself under a variety of forms ; but my limits
will not allow me to give a particular description of them. I will
notice only the most striking.
In some cases, the stammerer makes an effort to speak, and all
his breath is expelled without producing vocality ; in others, the
lips are spasmodically closed : these two forms often occur in the
same case. Sometimes the stammerer, while speaking or reading,
loses all power over the vocal organs, and remains some moments
with his mouth open, before he can recover sufficient energy to
proceed. In many cases, the stammerer repeats the word imme-
diately preceding the one he is attempting to pronounce, or he re-
peats, in a rapid manner, the first element, or the first syllable, of
the difficult word.
CAUSES. The predisposing causes are nervous irritability and
delicacy of constitution.
The most usual exciting causes are diffidence, embarrassment, a
fear of not being successful when about to make an effort to speak,
an attempt to speak faster than the vocal organs can assume the
proper positions for utterance. Two or more of these causes often
occur in the same case. Sometimes the habit of stammering is
acquired by imitation.
The proximate cause of stammering is a spasmodic action of the
muscles of speech.
PROGNOSIS. The probability of a cure depends upon the follow-
ing circumstances : If the stammerer has a cheerful disposition, is
distinguished for energy of mind and decision of character, can ap-
preciate the variations of pitch in speech and song, or, in other
words, has an ear for music and a taste for elocution, the prognosis
is favourable. But if he is of a nervous temperament, subject to
melancholy, irresolute of purpose, incapable of imitation in speaking
and singing, the prognosis is unfavourable.
TREATMENT. The stammerer should be impressed with the
importance, nay, necessity, of giving exclusive attention to the sub-
ject ; arid he should not be allowed to converse with any one till
ARTICULATION. 36
he can speak without stammering. These rules cannot be too
strongly enforced. I am fully persuaded of this from my own ex-
perience. Several stammerers, who have placed themselves under
my care, taking but two or three lessons a week, and attending to
their usual avocations, have left me disappointed ; while those who
have given undivided attention to the subject, have been entirely
relieved. True, many are more or less benefited even by occasion
ally taking a lesson ; but it is very difficult, by any irregular course,
to effect a radical cure. The habit of stammering should be ar-
rested at once; for, while it is continued, how is it possible that the
habit of speaking correctly can be established ]
Great pains should be taken to inspire the stammerer with confi-
dence. He should be convinced that his success depends mainly
upon his own exertions : that he must pursue the various exercises
assigned him with indefatigable zeal, with untiring industry ; that
he has the same organs of speech as other people, and nothing is
necessary to enable him to use them as well, but a conviction in his
ability to do so. To think that one can do, gives almost the ability
to accomplish but to think that one cannot do, virtually takes
away the ability to do, even where it is ample.
Stammering is often continued by the subordinate estimation
which the stammerer puts upon himself. He is too apt to consider
those around him giants, and himself a dwarf. As this estimation
of himself serves to perpetuate his disease, it is clear that its reme-
dy must be found in making himself equal to any: if this mental
classification into giants and dwarfs must take place, let the stam-
merers make themselves the giants, and those around them the
dwarfs.
The teacher should study the disposition of his pupil : he should
persuade him to banish from his mind all melancholy thoughts
in short, he should do every thing in his power to render his pupil
cheerful and happy.
Various athletic exercises should be resorted to daily, to invigo-
rate all the muscles of voluntary motion, and diminish nervous irri-
tability. In some cases it may be necessary to have recourse to
tonics, anti-spasmodics, bathing in salt water, frictions over the
whole surface of the body, &c., &c. Electricity may be used with
advantage as a tonic, and also as a means of interrupting the spasm
of the vocal organs.
The vocal treatment is deduced from the following circum
stances :
1. An ability to sing.
2. An ability to speak when alone:
3. And if the stammerer must speak before an audience, the
smaller the audience and the farther he is removed from it, the
better.
38 ELOCUTION.
4. An ability to speak amidst a noise that is sufficient to render
the human voice nearly or quite inaudible.
5. An ability to speak better in the dark than in the light.
6. An ability to speak in a measured manner.
7. An ability to speak in a drawling manner.
8. An ability to speak with the mouth more or less distorted.
9. An ability to speak in any key, either higher or lower than
that in which the stammerer usually converses.
10. An ability to speak with a halloo.
11. An ability to speak when the attention is divided or arrested
by some object or circumstance more or less irrelevant to the sub-
ject.
12. An ability to speak in concert or simultaneously. Every one
who has learned to sing, knows how much easier it is to sing in
concert than alone. All the exercises, therefore, for the cure of
stammering, should, at first, be conducted in concert.
Stammering may be considered a fault in elocution, the result of
defective education, and is confirmed by habit. If children were
properly instructed in speaking and reading, this affection of the
vocal organs would, probably, seldom or never occur. Hence, no
mode of treatment that is not founded in just elocution or the cor-
rect exercise of the organs of speech for the purposes of vocal ex-
pression, can be relied on. This must appear obvious to every in-
telligent and reflecting mind. The stammerer must be taught how
to give language the pitch, time, and force which the sense requires.
To effect this, his muscles of speech, which have long been refrac-
tory, must be trained till they are brought under the control of
volition, and like a well-rnarshalled troop of soldiers, made to act in
harmonious concert.
Oral language may be resolved into certain sounds which are its
elements. Now there are certain positions of the organs of speech
more favourable than others for the production of the elements.
The stammerer should be made thoroughly acquainted with these
positions, and, in connexion with them, should be required to exer-
cise his voice in the most energetic manner upon all the elements
singly, till he can utter them without hesitation. He should also
utter them in various combinations, not only according to the laws
of syllabication, but in every irregular way. The vowels should
be exploded from the throat with great force ; and they should be
sung, as well as pronounced with the rising and falling inflection,
through every interval of pitch within the compass of the voice.
The pupil should be drilled in various exercises whose highest
peculiarity is time and force. Time may be measured by means
of the Metronome, by beating with the hand, and by marching.*
* Also by beating with the dumb-Dens.
ARTICULATION. 37
Pitch, time, and force, are the elements of expression, and a proper
combination of them in reading and speaking, constitutes good elo-
cution. When, therefore, the stammerer becomes master of these
elements, as well as the elements of the language, he may com-
mence speaking and reading. In his first attempts at conversation,
both teacher and pupil should speak in a deliberate manner, with a
full, firm tone of voice, and in a very low pitch.
The stammerer should now commit to memory a short piece
which requires to be spoken with explosive force; for example,
14 Satan's speech to his legions." The members of the class should
stand at a sufficient distance from each other to prevent their hands
coming in contact when their arms are extended. They should
then pronounce the speech in concert, after the teacher, and accom-
pany it with appropriate gesticulation. It should be repeated again
and again, till each pupil can give it proper expression, both as
regards voice and gesture. Each pupil should then, in turn, take
the place of the teacher and give out the speech to the class. To
prevent the pupil's stammering, while he is performing the teach-
er's part, the teacher himself should play an accompaniment on the
violoncello, violin, organ, drum, or some other instrument. At first
the notes should be made very loud ; but if the effort of the pupil,
standing out of the class, is likely to be successful, they should gra-
dually be made softer and softer, and, finally, the accompaniment
omitted altogether. This piece should be pronounced alternately
with one which requires to be spoken with long quantity and in a
low pitch, as " Ossian's Address to the Sun."
When the pupil has mastered these two kinds of reading, he may
take up dignified dialogue, and, lastly, conversational pieces. He
should drawl out difficult words, which are generally those having
short vowels preceded by labials, dentals, and gutturals.
In very bad cases of stammering, the pupil should first sing the
words, then drawl them, then pronounce them with very long quan-
tity, and thus gradually approximate to common speaking.
As soon as the pupils can speak without stammering, they should
recite singly in a very large room, or in the open air, at a distance
from the audience, which, at first, should consist of the members of
the class only. A few visiters should be occasionally introduced,
and the number should be gradually increased. In this way the
stammerer will soon acquire sufficient confidence to speak before a
large assembly. In some cases it may be expedient for the stam-
merer to recite before an audience in a dark room ; but as he ac-
quires confidence, light should be gradually admitted.
Stammerers, instead of speaking immediately after inspiration, as
they should do, often attempt to speak immediately after expiration,
when, of course, they have no power to speak. The lungs, like a
bellows, perform their part in the process of speaking, best, when
plentifully supplied with air. This is an important fact, and should
4
38
ELOCUTION.
be remembered, not only by stammerers, but also by those who have
occasion to read or speak in public. Loud speaking, long-continued,
with the lungs but partially distended, is very injurious to these
organs : it is apt to occasion a spitting of blood, v hich is not unfre-
quently a precursor of pulmonary consumption. But loud speaking,
with proper management of the breath, is a healthful exercise : be-
sides strengthening the muscles which it calls into action, it pro
motes the decarbonization of the blood, and, consequently, exerts a
salutary influence on the system generally. [See additional re-
marks, in Appendix at the end of the volume, where will be found
an account of the new surgical operation for the radical cure of
stammering, which has been performed, with more or less success,
both in Europe and in this country.]
SECTION II.
PITCH.
ITCH is the degree of the eleva-
tion of sounds.
As pitch regards the elevation of sounds,
it respects their acuteness and gravity. I
use the term pitch in its widest significa-
tion. In the science of music, it is used
not only in the sense in which I employ it,
but it also has a special application : in the
latter, it is applied to the medium note, the regulating note to
which instruments are brought by the act of tuning. When ap-
plied in this sense, it is termed concert-pitch. The note which has
been adopted, by common consent, as the pitch-note, is A, the open
note of the second string of the violin : it is written in the second
space of the treble staff.
A lax division of pitch is into high and low ; in other
words, into acute and grave ; (those notes being called
high, or acute, which are above the natural pitch of
the voice ; and those low, or grave, which are below it)
Strictly speaking, the application of high and low, to pitch, is
without philosophic foundation: it has originated, not from any
PITCH. 39
principles in the acuteness and gravity of sound, but from the rela-
tive position of the notes in the graphic scale. This is obvious
from the fact that the degrees of the scale may be exemplified in a
horizontal line, by varying the forms of the graphic notes, as was
done by the Greeks.
An exact division of pitch, as demonstrated by the
diatonic scale, is into tones and semitones.*
The word tone, as here employed, signifies a certain degree of
difference in pitch between two notes, as that between the first and
second note of the scale. But in some cases we use the word tone,
as synonymous with note; for instance, in some persons the tones
of the voice are more musical than in others that is, the notes
of the voice.
The diatonic scale consists of seven sounds, moving
discretely from grave to acute, or from acute to grave,
by different degrees of pitch, of which the semitone
may be the common measure, or divisor, without a
fraction. The scale, however, is not complete without
the octave, which is a repetition of the first note in the
eighth degree.
The notes do not ascend by equal degrees of pitch,
but by tones and semitones ; the semitones occurring
between the third and fourth, and seventh and eighth.
The order of the scale, therefore, is as follows : two
tones and a semitone, three tones and a semitone. And
should it be desirable to extend the series of sounds, the
eighth note of the first octave will become the first note
of the second octave ; the eighth note of the second oc-
tave, the first note of the third, and so on.
In teaching the pupil to " raise and fall the eight
notes," as it is called, the monosyllables, Do, Re, Mi,
Fa, Sol, La, Si,f may be employed.
Diag. 4 is a graphic representation of the scale. The
heavy, horizontal, parallel lines, represent the notes ;
and the spaces between them, the consecutive intervals
of the scale.
* DIATONIC [Greek, Sta, by or through, and fwoj, sound].
Ascending or descending by sounds whose proximate intervals are
not more than a tone, nor less than a semitone.
t Pronounced D6, RA, M6, Fa, S61, L, Sfe.
40
ELOCUTION.
THE DIATONIC SCALE. (Diag. 4.)
-8-
-7-
-6-
-5-
_4_
-3-
-2-
-1-
-Si-
-La-
-Sol-
-Fa-
-Mi-
Re
9
-Do--
An interval is a difference in pitch. Intervals are
either discrete, or concrete. A discrete interval is the
difference in pitch between any two notes which vary
from each other in acuteness and gravity. A concrete
interval is that portion of the scale through which the
voice slides on a concrete of speech.
The difference in pitch between the first and second
note of the scale, is called the interval of a tone, or
second ; between the second and third, a tone ; between
the third and fourth, a semitone ; between the fourth
and fifth, a tone ; between the fifth and sixth, a tone ; be-
tween the sixth and seventh, a tone ; between the se-
venth and eighth, a semitone.
The difference in pitch between the first and third
note of the scale, is called the interval of a third ; be-
tween the first and fourth, the interval of a fourth ; be-
tween the first and fifth, the interval of a fifth ; between
the first and sixth, the interval of a sixth ; between the
first and seventh, the interval of a seventh ; between
the first and eighth, the interval of an octave.
The intervals between the first and third, fourth and
sixth, and fifth and seventh, are called major thirds ;
because they contain two tones, or four semitones ; but
as the intervals between the second and fourth, third
PITCH.
4t
Diag. 5.
and fifth, and sixth and eighth, con-
tain but three semitones, they are de-
nominated minor thirds.
In the expression of our thoughts
by oral language, we employ three
sorts of voice the natural voice,
the falsetto voice, and the whispering
voice, which I shall now attempt to
describe.
The medium compass of the voice,
in those whose voices have been pro-
perly cultivated, is three octaves.*
There is, however, a point of pitch
at which the voice, in ascending
the scale, is said to break. This
point, in a majority of persons, is
about two octaves above the lowest
note of the voice. The natural voice
embraces all the notes below this
point ; the falsetto, all the notes above
it. (See Diag. 5.)
The Italians call the natural voice voce di
petto, and the falsetto voice voce di testa ;f
because they suppose the former to come
from the chest, and the latter from the head.
This error has arisen from a want of anato-
mical and physiological knowledge of the
vocal organs. Voice is never formed in the
chest, or in the head ; it is always formed in
the upper part of the larynx, at the aperture
of the glottis. It is, however, formed higher,
or lower in the throat, according to its de-
gree of acuteness, or gravity. At the command of the will, the
larynx may be elevated, or depressed, and the aperture of the glot-
tis enlarged, or diminished. The larynx is the most depressed, and
the aperture of the glottis the most dilated, when the gravest sound
is formed ; and the larynx is the most elevated, and the aperture
8,-Do-
7
-Si-
6
-La-
|
E>
5
-Sol-
d
,2
2
IS
4 -Fa-
^
'T-j
3 -Mi-
8
2
-Re-
o
P"
1
-Do-
s
7
-Si-
s
3
EC
G
-La-
5
-Sol-
1
W
4
-Fa-
,3
3
-Mi-
d.
J
[3
2
-Re-
P 1
3
"3
1
-Do-
H
_3
7
-Si-
^B
^
6
-La-
5
-Sol-
i
4
-Fa-
<s
3
-Mi-
2
-Re-
1
-Do-
* It is said that the ear is capable of perceiving nine octaves,
f Voce di petto (Ital.), voice from the breast. Voce di testa,
voice from the head.
4*
42 - ELOCUTION.
of the glottis the most contracted, when the acutest sound is formed.
Hence grave sounds appear to come from the chest, and acute ones
from the head, or roof of the mouth. From this circumstance, no
doubt, has arisen the error of calling the natural voice voce di petto,
and the falsetto voice voce di testa.
The whispering voice does not, like the natural voice
and the falsetto, owe its peculiarity to pitch, but to the
absence of what is generally understood by the term
vocality. The compass of the whispering voice is about
an octave. My own extends through ten degrees of
the scale.*
The natural pitch of the female voice is an octave
above that of the male voice. The pitch of the female
voice corresponds to that of the violin ; the pitch of the
male voice, to that of the violoncello. The voices of
boys are of the same pitch as the female voice one
octave above a man's voice. When boys are about the
age of fourteen, their voices undergo a change of pitch.
The notes of the falsetto voice are called treble ; the
upper notes of the natural voice, tenor; and the lower
notes of the natural voice, bass.-\ (See Diag. 5.)
The divisions of the voice, as given by Italian au-
thors, and adopted by many musicians of other coun-
tries, are as follows :
" There are three departments in the human voice,
viz., the high, the middle, and the low. These depart-
ments are in the female, as well as in the male voice.
Soprano, mezzo soprano, and contralto, are female voices.
Tenore, baritono, and basso, are male voices. "J
The reader will observe that the falsetto voice is not
included in the above division.
To a bass, a baritone, and a contralto voice, natu-
* Notes analogous to those of the whispering voice may be made
on the German flute, and some other wind instruments, through the
compass of an octave.
f When I speak of the voice, I speak of the adult male voice,
unless otherwise stated.
| Introduction to the Art and Science of Music, by Phil. Tra-
jetta.
PITCH. 43
rally good, or made so by cultivation, Dr. Rush applies
the term orotund.
The notes of music are named after the first seven letters of the
alphabet, and are represented by graphic notes, which are written
on five horizontal, parallel lines, and in the intermediate spaces.
These lines and spaces are called the staff. (See Diag. 6.) The
lines and spaces of the staff are counted upward, that is, the lowest
THE STAFF. (Diag. 6.)
(1= f-9=*-4')
LINES. < 3- 0--m dEI ~2 > SPACES.
C i=^~~*"* - 1=1 3
line of the staff is called the first line, the one above it the second
line, and so on ; the lowest space is called the first space, the next
the second space, and so on. (See Diag. 6.) Each line, and each
space, is called a degree. Hence, as there are five lines, and four
spaces, the staff includes nine degrees. (See Diag. 6.)
When it is desirable to extend the notes above or below the staff,
short lines, called ledger lines, are employed. (See Diag. 7.)
THE STAFF WITH LEDGER LINES. (Diag. 7.)
As the great scale of sounds, which includes all the notes that
can be made by instrumental means, is very extensive, it has been
found convenient to divide it into two parts, and allot a staff to each
part. The notes in the upper division of the great scale are writ-
ten on what is called the treble staff; those in the lower division,
upon what is denominated the bass staff.
To distinguish between the two staffs,* and to determine the
names of the graphic notes, and the sounds which they represent,
characters called cleffs are placed at the beginning of each staff.
The treble cleff is called G, because a particular TREBLE CLEFF.
G note is written upon that line of the staff on which
the main part of this character is placed. This note,
called the G cleff note, occupies that point of pitch
at which the falsetto voice generally commences.
The bass-cleff is called F, because a particular F note is written
* In pluralizing staf s is preferable to ves. (See Brown's Eng
list Syntax.)
44 ELOCUTION.
upon that line of the staff which this character crosses BASS CLEFF
as in the margin. The pitch of this note, called the
bass cleffnote, is nine degrees of the diatonic scale
below that of the treble cleff note, and one octave
above the lowest note of the majority of bass voices
which have been properly cultivated. (See Diagram 8.)
THREE OCTAVES OF THE FINGER-BOARD OF THE PIANO, AND THO
TWO STAFFS, WITH THEIR CLEFFS. (Diag.Q.}
FGABCDEFGABCDEFGABCDEF
2
EEp|p|EpiI
1
9*
Diag. 8. represents three octaves of the finger-board of the piano-
forte, and the two staffs, with their cleffs. The notes are written
upon the staffs opposite those keys of the piano by which they are
respectively produced.
The usual compass of a modern grand piano-forte, is six octaves.
The instrument extends one octave below, and two octaves above
that portion of the finger-board which is represented in Diag. 8.
The keys of the piano, like the notes which they severally pro-
duce, are named after the first seven letters of the alphabet : the
key which produces the F note is called the F Key; that which
produces the G note, the G Key ; that which produces the A note,
the A Key, and so on.
The finger-board of the piano consists of white and black keys.
The instrument is so constructed, that if you touch the white keys
in their consecutive order, a diatonic series will be produced* but
if you touch all the keys, white and black, in their consecutive
order, a semitonic series will be the result.
In the diatonic scale, as has been shown, there are five tones,
and two semitones. There are, however, two varieties of the scale :
one is called the major mode ; the other, the minor mode. In the
major mode, the first semitone is between the third and fourth de-
PITCH.
45
gree of the scale; the second, between the seventh and eighth.
(Diagram 4, p. 40, represents the major scale.) The minor mode,
in ascending, has the first semitone between the second and third
degree ; the second, between the seventh and eighth ; but in de-
scending, the second semitone is between the fifth and sixth. (See
Diagram 9.)
(Diag. 9.)
No. 1.
No. 2.
No. 3.
No. 4.
Dr.
|
i *-}
C,
o;
1 O
T.n
fi
\
T,a
,9
A
T,T
R
A
U
11
in
A# or Bb
A ....
Sol
-,
G
Sol
7
Gr
Sol
7 _
G
9
R
G# or Ab
G
Fa
|
F
Fa
6
F#
FTI
)
F
7
6
F# or Gb
F
Mi
s
F,
. .
Mi
5
F,
Mi
)
F,
s
E
T?P
9
D
T?P
4
r>
PP
|
ft
4
3
DfforEb
_ D
Do
1
C
...
Do
Si
La
3
2
1
B
A
...
Do
Si
La
!z
C
13
A
....
2
1
C# or Db
C
No. 1, in Diagram 9, represents the ascending and descending
major scale ; No. 2, the ascending minor scale ; and No. 3, the de-
scending minor scale.
There is another scale, called the semitonic, or chromatic. It is
formed by dividing the whole tones of the diatonic scale into semi-
tones, by five additional sounds. The chromatic scale may be il-
lustrated by touching all the white and black keys of a piano-forte,
in their consecutive order. (The chromatic scale is represented by
No. 4, in Diag. 9.)
The sounds which compose the diatonic scale, as I have said, are
named after the first seven letters of the alphabet. The five addi-
tional sounds, which, when added to the diatonic scale, divide it
into semitones, are called fiats, or sharps, according as they receive
the names of the notes immediately below, or of those immediately
above them. Thus, the second note of the chromatic scale of C, is
called C sharp, or Dflat; the fourth is called D sharp, or Eflat;
the seventh, F sharp, or G fiat ; the ninth, G sharp, or Aflat;
and the eleventh, A sharp, or Bflat. (See No. 4, in Diag. 9.)
When a note is to be sung, or played sharp, a character called a
sharp (it) is prefixed to it. When a note is to be sung, or played
46
ELOCUTION.
flat, a character called a flat (b) is prefixed to it. Sharps and flats
are generally placed at the beginning of a tune, or strain, immedi-
ately after the cleff. They are then called the signature ; because
they serve to point out the key.
By key is meant a scale of sounds, to the first of which all the
others bear a certain relation. This first note is called the key-
note, '.<' fundamental note, or tonic. As each note of the diatonic
sca.e ( f C (see No. 1), as well as its sharp and flat (see No. 4),
mfiy b'j assumed as a key-note of a series of seven, it follows that
there are twenty-one major, and twenty-one minor keys. And as
each note of the diatonic scale of C, as well as its sharp and flat,
rnay also be assumed as a key-note of a chromatic series, it follows
that there are twenty-one keys in the chromatic genus. These,
added to the forty-two keys in the diatonic genus, make the whole
number of keys in the musical system amount to sixty-three. Still,
as there are but twelve notes, there can be but thirty-six scales ;
and even this number may be resolved into three one major, one
minor, and one chromatic; all the others are transpositions of the
three primitive scales into different ranges of pitch.
The speaking voice, in good elocution, seldom rises
higher than a fifth above the lowest note of its com-
pass. Supposing the lowest note which can be made
with a full intonation, to be F, the following scheme
will show the relative pitch of keys, adapted to the
expression of different kinds of sentiments.
KEYS OF THE SPEAKING VOICE. (Diog. 10.)
G
F
E
Vociferation.
Very spirited declamation
. f Three millions of people,
I
I armed in the holy cause of liberty
- C -
A
- G -
_ F
Spirited declamation.
Ordinary declamation.
Modest declamation.
Ordinary narrative.
Dignified narrative.
Sublime description.
Very solemn discourse.
I, and in such a country as we possess.&c..
My hrave associates, &c.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, &c.
The tree of deepest root is found, &c.
He scarce had ceased, fcc.
I had a dream which was not all a, &c
O when shall day dawn, &c.
The majority of the people in this country pitch
their voices too high, not only when they read and
speak in public, but also in their colloquial intercourse,
PITCH. 47
We not unfrequently meet with individuals who always
speak in the highest key of the natural voice, and we
occasionally meet with some who even speak in the
ialsetto. A high pitch, in speech, is unpleasant to a
cultivated ear ; and though it may answer in the busi-
ness transactions of life, it is totally inadequate tc the
correct expression of sentiments of respect, venerauon,
dignity and sublimity.
CHAPTER I.
INFLECTIONS. \ v ^ Oj^
N FLECTIONS, in the science of
Elocution, are notes of speech notes
that, in regard to pitch, undergo a con-
tinual change during the time of their
pronunciation.
Writers on elocution describe six dif-
ferent notes of speech ; namely, the rising
inflection, the falling inflection, the acuto-
grave circumflex inflection, the gravo-acute circumflex
inflection, the acuto-gro ' co-acute circumflex inflection,
and the gravo-acuto-grave circumflex inflection.*
In the rising inflection, the movement of the voice is
from grave to acute ; in the falling inflection, from acute
to grave ; in the acuto-grave circumflex, from grave to
acute, thence back to grave ; in the gravo-acute cir-
cumflex, from acute to grave, thence back to acute ; in
the acuto-gravo-acute circumflex, from grave to acute,
thence back to grave, and thence again to acute ; in the
* Mr. Steele calls the inflections of the voice accents acute,
crave, and circumflex. Dr. Rush denominates the rising inflection
the rising concrete; the falling inflection, the downward concrete;
the circumflexes he calls waves.
48 ELOCUTION.
gravo-acuto-grave circumflex, from acute to grave,
thence back to acute, and thence again to grave.
In that part of this work which consists of EXERCISES
IN READING AND DECLAMATION, these notes of speech
are represented by the acute, grave, and circumflex
accents, thus ;
Rising inflection ('). Acuto-grave circumflex ( A ).
Falling inflection (). Gravo-acute circumflex (v).
Acuto-gravo-acute circumflex (/v).
Gravo-acuto-grave circumflex (v\).
In reading and speaking, each syllable has some one
of these inflections ; but, for practical purposes, it is
necessary to mark those only which are emphatic.
The various movements of the voice, in song and speech, may be
explained in the following 1 manner :
When the bow is drawn across an open string of the violin, or
any of its species, a sound is produced of a uniform pitch, from be-
ginning to end. This sound is a pure note of music, and, so far as
pitch is concerned, is identical with a note of song. When the
bow is drawn across the same string, while the centre of the string
is pressed down with the finger, a sound is produced similar to that
of the open string, but an octave higher. The intermediate notes
of the diatonic scale may be produced by pressing down the string,
at the proper places, and drawing the bow across it.
When a string of the violin is pressed down by the finger, and,
at the same time, the finger is made to slide upon it towards the
bridge of the instrument, during the drawing of the bow, a sound is
produced which gradually increases in acuteness from beginning
to end. When the finger is made to slide in the opposite direction,
during the drawing of the bow, a sound is produced which gradu-
ally increases in gravity during its prolongation. When the finger
is made to slide towards the bridge, and thence back again, during
the drawing of the bow, a simple circumflex note is produced.
When the finger is made to slide towards the bridge, thence back
again, and thence again towards the bridge, during the drawing of
the bow, a compound circumflex note is produced.
Other varieties of the slide might be given, but these are suffi-
cient to answer the purpose of explanation.
"The slide is a grace of much simplicity and beauty, evidently
drawn from nature. It expresses the most tender arid affectionate
emotions: we hear it in those little gusts of passion which mothers
use in caressing their infants; it is one of the most endearing tones
in the language of nature.
PITCH. 49
" The portamento, or carriage of the voice, as the Italians term
it, is an easy mode of sliding from one tone to another. Hence
second-rate singers find it a convenient method of encountering
those notes which lie at remote and awkward distances. In some
voices it is so fixed, by habit, that two bars cannot be sung without
it. When so used, it utterly destroys every pretence to good sing-
ing, by interposing an effect of the most sickening kind ; when used
with discretion, it adds much to the force of expression; and, in
Madame Caradori, it was a grace both tender and agreeable.
" The violinist, Paganini, the present wonder of the world, plays
an entire cantabile* upon one string, sliding through all the inter-
vals with a single finger the effect of which is so plaintive, and
desolate, as to move his audience to tears. Vellnti, the first singing-
master of the age, uses this grace with incomparable beauty ; in his
voice it imparts a tenderness not to be described."!
The sliding notes above described are analagous to drawling 1
notes of speech. Speech, to be natural, requires each syllable to
be uttered with a certain degree of force. This force is always in
proportion to the length of the syllable. A syllable is drawled
when it is pronounced with inadequate force in other words, with
force less than that which constitutes the minimum degree of natu-
ral speech.
The extent of the concrete intervals of the notes of
speech, is various under various circumstances. A
rising inflection may be carried through the whole
compass of the voice. But, in the most energetic in-
terrogation, the voice seldom rises higher than an oc-
tave; though sometimes it extends to a tenth, or a
twelfth. The smallest concrete interval does not, per-
haps, exceed a quarter tone.
The concrete intervals of rising inflections are
greater than those of their corresponding falling inflec-
tions. This may be illustrated by pronouncing the
letter a interrogatively and affirmatively, several times,
with increasing energy, making the intervals of each
succeeding pair greater than those of the preceding, as
shown by the following diagram :
* CANTABILE, a term applied to movements intended to be per-
formed in a graceful, elegant, and melodious style. Busby's Die-
tionary of Music.
f GARDINER'S Music OF NATURE, p. 164-5, London edition.
5 D
ELOCUTION.
K I SIN AND FALLING INFLECTIONS, THROUGH VARIOUS
INTERVALS OF PITCH. (Didg. 11.)
T~T
i=t
a ? a. a ? a. a? a. a? a. a? a. a ? a.
In the above diagram, each falling inflection com-
mences in a lower degree of pitch than that in which
its corresponding rising inflection terminates. Should
a falling inflection be made to extend through the same
interval as its corresponding rising inflection, it would
be a drawling note, and not a pure note of speech.
Falling inflections may be uttered with greater force
than rising inflections. This is shown, in Diag. 11, by
the relative widths of the notes.
Rising inflections are far more numerous than fall-
ing inflections : the former constitute the main body
of oral language, while the latter are employed for the
purposes of emphasis, and in the formation of cadences.
Rising inflections are often emphatic ; but their empha-
sis is weaker than that of falling inflections.
The circumflexes are used for the purposes of em-
phasis. The acuto-grave circumflex, when carried
through a wide interval, is employed for the expression
of irony and scorn.* When the circumflexes are pro-
perly introduced, they are very expressive. These
movements of the voice, however, are seldom required ;
when improperly employed, they affect the ear of! a
good reader as unpleasantly as the too frequent use of
the portamento does that of a good musician.
* " The circumflexes, acuto-grave" says Mr. Steele, " are cha-
racteristic of the Irish tone ; and the circumflexes, gravo-acute, are
characteristic of the Scottish tone." (See Steele's Prosodia Ra-
tionalis.)
PITCH. 51
Writers on Elocution have given numerous rules for
the regulation of inflections ; but most of these rules are
better calculated to make bad readers than good ones.
Those founded on the construction of sentences might,
perhaps, do credit to a mechanic, but they certainly do
none to an elocutionist.
The subject is of such a nature that it would be
difficult, if not impossible, to give rules for the regula-
tion of all the inflections of the voice, in reading and
speaking; and, as any rule on this part of elocution
must necessarily be limited in its application, I have
thought proper to dispense with them altogether. This
work, however, does not leave the reader without a
guide : in the practical part of it, numerous examples
are given, which, I trust, will have a tendency to form
a correct taste. When the student shall have acquired
a knowledge of the principles of elocution, he will have
no occasion for rules.
The reader should bear in mind that a falling inflec-
tion gives more importance to a word than a rising in-
flection. Hence it should never be employed merely
for the sake of variety ; but for emphasis and cadences.
Neither should a rising inflection be used for the sake
of mere " harmony" where a falling inflection would
better express the meaning of the author.
The sense should, in all cases, determine the direc-
tion of inflections. Hence the absurdity of the term
" harmonic inflection" as employed by Walker and his
disciples an inflection which, for the sake of harmony.
takes a direction contrary to that required by the sense :
If a sentence is pronounced so as to bring out the
sense in the most forcible manner, all the inflections
must necessarily be harmonic, or, more correctly speak-
ing, melodic.* Every modification of the voice, which
is not compatible with the sentiment, weakens the force
of the elocution by drawing off the attention of the
hearer from the sense to the sound.
See the note at the bottom of page 52.
ELOCUTION.
CHAPTER II.
MELODY.
E L O D Y is a series of simple
sounds, emanating from the
voice, or an instrument, so
varied in pitch as to produce
a pleasing effect upon the ear.
The series of graphic notes by
which these sounds are repre-
sented, is also called melody.
Melody is distinguished from harmony by not necessarily includ-
ing a combination of parts. The term harmony, as employed in
the science of music, signifies a union of melodies, a succession of
combined sounds, moving at consonant intervals, according to the
laws of modulation.*
NOTATION is the graphic representation of a melody
in other words, the expression of a melody by written
characters.
INTONATION is the act of sounding the notes of a me-
lody, either with the voice, or an instrument. When
each note is produced in its proper degree of pitch, the
intonation is true ; when the intervals are not observed
with exactness, the intonation is false. Correct into-
nation, in speech, is highly important ; in song, and in-
strumental music, it is indispensable ; for, if the intona-
tion is false, melody loses its charms, and harmony
becomes discord.
The melody of speech is founded on sense ; that of
song, generally, on sound. Words containing opposite
* The term harmonious is correctly employed when applied to
two or more sounds whose union is consonant, or agreeable; it is
incorrectly employed when applied to the notes of a single melody,
as is done by some authors, who confound it with the word melo*
dious.
PITCH. 53
sentiments may be sung to the same air, with effects
equally good, if the force and time be properly varied.
Tnus, if the two songs, March to the Battle Field, and
Oft in the Stilly Night, be sung to the same air the
former with great force, and in quick time the latter
with diminished force, and in slow time, there will be
as much difference of expression between them as there
is between that of joy and sorrow.* But speech is not
so accommodating. Here every sentence must not
only have its appropriate tune, but the tune must be
properly pitched.
The melody of song is graduated on a scale whose
degrees are as definite as those of the scale of Gunter.
But the melody of speech is not formed with such ma-
thematical exactness it has no scale of determinate
degrees. Hence it is difficult to represent it graphi-
cally to give to each note
" A local habitation and a name."
But even if an exact notation of the melody of speech
should be given, it is doubtful whether it would be of
much practical importance to the generality of man-
kind, as none but a Paganini would be able to read it.
Such a notation, however, is a desideratum it would
be highly interesting to the philosopher ; and I would
advise all elocutionists who have a good ear for music,
and can perform on stringed instruments of the violin
species, to direct their attention to the subject.f
For practical purposes, however, it is not essential
to present every syllable in speech under its proper
note, as is done in song : it is only necessary to give a
notation of the relative pitch of the emphatic syllables.
* The reader must not infer that I entertain the opinion that in
pong melody cannot be adapted to sentiment. I believe that if the
composers of music were elocutionists, they would always construct
their melodies with reference to the sentiments to be expressed.
f Any essays on this subject by one who cannot perform on a
musical instrument, must o-ove entirely abortive.
5*
ft4 ELOCUTION.
Such a notation may be read by those who have no
knowledge of music whatever, and, consequently, does
not require the aid of a Paganini. Besides, if the rela-
tive pitch of the heavy, or emphatic syllables, and their
inflections, are given, the light, or unemphatic sylla-
bles will naturally take their proper degrees of eleva-
tion.
The series of notes by which the relative pitch, and
inflections of the emphatic syllables are represented,
is denominated an emphasis melody. The emphasis
melodies are written on four horizontal, parallel lines.
These lines are called the staff of speech, in contradis-
tinction to the staffof music, which consists of Jive hori-
zontal, parallel lines, and the intermediate spaces.
"Ye are the things that tower, that shine, whose
smile makes glad, whose frown is terrible."
In the above sentence there are four emphatic points,
which are represented by the following
EMPHASIS MELODY. (DlOg. 12.)
f 4 CT
I o
STAFF OF SPEECH..
PITCH-NOTE LINE.
tower, shine, glad, terrible.
Each note in the above diagram has the falling inflec-
tion, and no two have the same radical pitch. There
is a gradual increase in the size of the notes from the
first to the last, \vhich represents a gradual increase of
force, forming a sort of climax.
In that part of this work which consists of EXER-
CISES IN READING AND DECLAMATION, the notes of the
emphasis melodies are represented by graphic inflec-
tions placed at different degrees of elevation, thus :
" Ye are the things that tower, that shine^ whose
mile makes glad', whose frown is terrible."
In reading and speaking there is one note which
PITCH. 55
predominates ; and in correct reading and speaking, the
pitch of this note is always in accordance with the
sentiment. This predominant, leading, or pitch-note
of speech, is written on the second line of the staff,
counting from below. To render the pitch-line con-
spicuous, it is made heavier than the other lines of the
staff. (See Diag. 12.) In the EXERCISES IN READING
AND DECLAMATION, the pitch-note is represented by the
graphic inflection which commences at the centre of
the body of the letter. (See the word shine, in the
foregoing example.) When one reads altogether in the
pitch-note, the reading is monotonous ; when the voice
is properly varied in pitch, it occasionally rises a de-
gree, or two degrees above, or descends a degree below
it, as represented by the staff.
The reader must not conclude that the melody of
speech is confined to four degrees of pitch, whose inter-
vals are as determinate as those of the diatonic scale.
The intervals between the several notes of an empha-
sis melody vary according to circumstances. In ener-
getic declamation, and in interrogative and exclamatory
sentences, they may be said to be at their maximum ;
in solemn, and in plaintive discourse, at their minimum.
Neither must the reader conclude that the melody of
speech consists solely of emphasis melodies. These form,
as it were, the grand outlines of the picture, and the
notes of the syllables not included in the emphasis
melodies, constitute the filling up and the shading of it.
The graphic notes of song represent absolute, as well
as relative pitch. But as the graphic notes of an em-
phasis melody of speech denote relative pitch only, two
emphasis melodies similarly constructed, though differ-
ent in their relative intervals, may be represented by
the same series of graphic notes.
In reading emphasis melodies, beginners are apt to
make the intervals too great. Care should be taken
to avoid this fault, or the melody will be caricatured.
A little practice, under a good teacher, will enable
56 ELOCUTION.
almost any one, who is not insensible to the changes
of pitch, to observe the proper intervals with tolerable
accuracy. And as these melodies are founded in the
nature of the subject, those who have a taste for elocu-
tion will scarcely require a teacher, for they will read
them, as it were, by intuition.
CHAPTER III.
MODULATION.
'ODULATION is a chang-
ing of the pitch-note to a
higher or lower degree of ele-
vation in other words, it
is the process of changing the
key, or of passing from one
key to another. This change
is sometimes made to a proxi-
mate key ; at other times, a bold and abrupt transition
to a remote key is necessary to produce the desired
effect. Modulation is generally attended with a change
of force, or time; and, not unfrequently, with a change
of both. There is not a more important requisite in
Elocution nothing which contributes more to the
pleasure of an audience nothing which gives stronger
proof that an orator is master of his art, than a well-
regulated and expressive modulation. Modulation,
however, should never be resorted to for the sake of
mere variety it should always be subservient to the
sense; for it is the province of modulation to mark
changes of sentiment, changes in the train of thought,
and parenthetical clauses.
Under ordinary circumstances, the various modula-
tions of the voice, in reading and speaking, may be
represented by a staff of four lines. That this staff
may not be confounded with the staff of melody, de-
PITCH.
57
scribed in the preceding chapter, it is made of lines
composed of dots, and called the staff of modulation.
The lines of this staff, like those of the staff of melody,
are counted from below upward. The second line is
called the pitch-note line of the staff of modulation.
A series of modulations, as represented by the fol-
lowing diagram, might, very appropriately, be termed
a melody of melodies.
A SERIES OF MODULATIONS. (Diag. 13.)
L
J
<?
^
i
d
!
This diagram shows the modulations of the voice in
the correct reading of the following extract from 0s-
sian's Address to the Sun.
(a) 2 The moon herself is lost in heaven ; | (b) 3 but
thou art for ever the same, | (c) 4 rejoicing in the bright-
ness of thy course. | (d) l When the world is dark with
tempests, | (e) 2 when thunder rolls, and lightning flies,
| (/) 3 thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, |
(g) 4 and laughest at the storm. | (h) 2 But, to Ossian,
thou lookest in vain.
Staff a, in Diagram 13, is designed for the first sec-
tion in the above extract ; staff 6, for the second sec-
tion, and so on. The transition from c to d is abrupt
also that from g to h. The pitch-note of staff a is
identical with that of staff e and that of staff h, and
corresponds to the pitch-note of modulation.
In that part of this work which consists of EXER-
CISES IN READING AND DECLAMATION, the modulations
of the voice are indicated by small numerals prefixed
58 ELOCUTION.
to the words where the transitions should take place.
These numerals are 1, 2, 3, 4, and represent, respec-
tively, the first, second, third, and fourth line of the
staff of modulation. This is shown in the preceding ex-
tract from Ossian's Address to the Sun. No. 2 is pre-
fixed to the first section, to show that this section is to
be read in the pitch-note of modulation ; No. 3 is pre-
fixed to the second section, to show that this section
should be read in the third degree of the staff of modu-
lation ; No. 4 is prefixed to the third section, to show
that this section should be read in the fourth degree
of the staff of modulation ; No. 1 is prefixed to the
fourth section, to show that this section should be
read in the first degree of the staff of modulation ; and
so on. (See the Extract, and Diag. 13.)
Some public speakers, who are ignorant of the principles of Elo-
cution, but who, nevertheless, are considered by the vulgar as
great orators, modulate their voices in the most erratic and hyper-
bolical manner. I once heard a clergyman pronounce the follow-
\ng sentence in the way which I shall describe :
" While God's omniscient eye passes from seat to seat, j and
ranges throughout the house, | he beholds what is passing in every
heart."
The first section, while God's omniscient eye passes from seal
to seat, he pronounced in the first degree above the lowest note of
his voice ; the second section, and ranges throughout the house, he
uttered with great force, in the highest note of his natural voice;
the third section, he beholds what is passing in every heart, he
pronounced with a mixture of vocality and aspiration, in the lowest
note of his voice. Such wild and extravagant transitions, though
they may astonish the ignorant, cannot but make the judicious
grieve." The manner in which the speaker pronounced the first
and third section in the above sentence, is good ; and had he pro-
nounced the second section in the same pitch and force with the
first, his elocution would have been faultless.
There are other public speakers who never modulate their voices,
however necessary it may be to give proper expression to their sen-
timents ; and, what is worse, they generally pitch their voices a
third, a fifth, or an octave too high. I once listened to an excellent
discourse, from a very learned man, which, however, was nearly
lost upon the audience from the disgusting manner in which it was
delivered. The lecturer pitched his voice an octave too high, and
FORCE.
59
spoke an hour and a half, without any variation in pitch, force, or
time ; and, what rendered his delivery still more offensive, every
syllable was marred with an intolerable drawling. Such elocution
i.s discreditable to any man who speaks in public, and ought not to
be tolerated by an educated community.
SECTION III.
FORCE.
O R C E is the degree of the loud-
ness of sounds. It is also the
degree of exertion with which
sounds are made.
A lax division of force is into
loud and soft : those sounds are
called loud, which are made
with greater effort than the or-
dinary tones of conversation ; and those are called soft,
which are made with less effort.
Some use the terms high and low, as synonymous with loud and
soft. But this is an improper application of these words. High
and low regard the acuteness and gravity of sounds only, and not
their force : a sound may be high and soft, as well as high and loud
a sound may also be low and loud, as well as low and soft.
For convenience, force is divided into nine degrees.
These degrees are expressed by the following abbre-
viations :
ppp (pianissimo), .
pp (piit, piano},
p (piano},
mp (mezzo piano), .
m (mezzo),
mf (mezzo forte), .
/ (forte)
ff (piu forte),
fff (fortissimo), ..
. as soft as possible.
more soft, very soft.
soft.
. middling soft, rather soft.
half, middle, mean.
. middling loud, rather loud.
loud.
more loud, very loud.
. as loud as possible.
ELOCUTION.
The nine degrees of force are represented by Diag.
1 4. The upper line of the diagram contains notes of
song ; the lower one, notes of speech.
FORCE, OR STRESS. (Diag. 14.)
2
PP
4
mp
6
mf
8
//
Force may be considered in reference to its applica-
tion to sentences and paragraphs, as well as in refe-
rence to its application to syllables. The application
of force to sentences may be varied in the following
manner :
1. A sentence may be pronounced with uniform
force.
2. A sentence may be pronounced with a gradual
diminution of force.
3. A sentence may be pronounced with a gradual
increase of force.
4. The first part of a sentence may be pronounced
with a gradual increase of force, and the second part,
with a gradual diminution of force.
5. The first part of a sentence may be pronounced
with a gradual diminution of force, and the second part,
with a gradual increase of force.
Force, however, is generally applied to sentences in
a more irregular manner. It should always be varied
according to the varying demands of sentiment.
Force, applied to a note, or syllable, is denominated
stress.
Radical stress is the application of force at the be-
ginning of a note, or syllable ; it corresponds to the
diminuendo, in music.
Median stress is the application of force at the middle
of a note, or syllable ; it corresponds to the swell, or
crescendo et diminuendo, in music.
FORCE.
61
Final stress is the application of force at the end of
a note, or syllable ; it corresponds to the crescendo, or
ratner, rinforzando,* in music.
Explosive stress is the abrupt application of force to
a note, or syllable; it corresponds to theforzando, in
music.f
Diagram 15.
d? H. d? &. d? a.
Tremour is iterated stress on a note, or syllable.
Examples of the tremour are given in the following
diagram :
(Diag. 16.)
d? it.
The tremour, in all its forms, may be illustrated on
the violin by sounding the notes with a vibratory mo-
tion of the bow.
Great attention should be paid to the subject of
force, as much of what is called expression, depends on
some modification of this attribute of the voice. In-
* RINFORZANDO is a sudden increase of sound from softness to
loud ness.
f NATHAN, in his Essay on the History and Theory of Music,
has given diagrams representing sixty modifications of force appli-
cable to the voice of song.
6
62 ELOCUTION.
deed, force may be considered the light and shade of
elocution.
" Mr. Alison observes, that loud sounds are connected with ideas
of power and danger; and that many objects in nature, which have
such qualities, are distinguished by such sounds. On the contrary,
soft sounds are connected with ideas of gentleness and dalicacy.
The contrasts produced by the different degrees offeree with which
sounds are uttered, form the most prominent effects of musical ex-
pression. The rushing of the fortissimo brings with it dread and
alarm ; but in the pianissimo, the chiaroscuro* of the art, we feel
the opposite sensation. The indistinctness of sounds apparently
removes them to a distance like the faint touches in painting,
they seem to retire from us. Upon this principle, the ventriloquist
deceives the ear, by directing the attention to a point from which
the voice may be supposed to proceed ; and effects the deception by
reducing it to the exact degree of softness that it would seem to
possess had it really proceeded from the spot."
CRESCENDO AND DIMINUENDO.
" What is more alarming than the gradual increase of a mighty
sound, when it pours upon the ear from a distance ; whether it
proceeds from the roar of a multitude, or the raging of a storm, the
auditory sense is overwhelmed, and the mind is filled with imagi-
nary danger ! When the increasing force accumulates to excessive
loudness, the vibrations become too great for the soul to bear.
There is also a sublimity in the gradual decrease of sounds.
*' It is equally sublime to listen to sounds when they retire from
us. Handel has aimed at this poetic effect in the ' Messiah,' when
he pictures the ascent of the heavenly host, giving an idea of theii
distance and flight.
"There is no accomplishment in the art of singing more fascinat-
ing than the swelling and dying away of the voice ; when used
with taste and judgment, it never fails to delight us. The perform-
ance of the ' Miserere,' in the Sixtine Chapel, in Rome, so often
described by travellers, owes its shadowy effect to this approaching
and retiring of the sounds. Farinelli moved his audience to a state
of ecstasy by the manner in which he commenced his famous song,
1 Son qual nave' ' the first note of which was taken with such deli-
cacy, swelled by minute degrees to such an amazing volume, and
afterwards diminished in the same manner to a mere point, that it
was applauded for five minutes.' Beethoven is the only composer
who has introduced this effect into choral music : we find it applied
at the termination of some of the choruses in his posthumous Mass;
here the voices alone pour upon the ear with an effect like tho
swelling and dying away of the storm.
* CHIAROSCURO (Italian), the light of a shade of a picture.
TIME.
63
PORZANDO.
" Explosive force forms a strong feature in the character of mo-
dern music ; we never find it expressed in any author before the
time of Haydn. It may be described as a forcible expression of
sound which is no sooner uttered than it drops into the utmost de-
gree of softness. It has its origin in the ebullition of our passions.
We hear it in the expressions of joy, rage, despair, &c. Indeed
it is natural to persons under any violent emotion. It properly
belongs to the sublime, although it may be so burlesqued as to as-
sume a ridiculous character. Like all other forcible expressions,
its meaning will depend upon the situation and manner in which it
is used."*
SECTION IV.
TIME.
I M E is the measure of sounds in
regard to their duration.
Time, in song, and instrumental
music, is divided into equal mea-
sures by rhythmical pulsation in
other words, by a periodical return
of similar accents.f In graphic
music, these measures are rendered conspicuous to the
eye by vertical bars, as in the following line of poetry :
| Hail to the | chief who in | triumph ad- | vances. J
In speech there is also a return of similar accents;
but they do not always occur at regular intervals of
* GARDINER'S Music OF NATURE.
f It is rhythmical pulsation which enables a band of musicians
to perform in concert. It is this also which enables a company of
soldiers to march synchronously, and which governs the movements
of the feet in dancing.
64
ELOCUTION.
time. Hence the rhythm of speech, like its melody, is
more or less irregular.
The time of a note, or syllable, is called quantity.
The time of a rest is also called quantity ; because
rests, as well as notes, are a constituent of rhythm
Hence the characters used for the expression of quan-
tity, are either of sound or silence. The former are
called notes ; the latter, rests. These characters, and
their relative lengths, are as follows :
N
OTES.
c=> =
=
r =
i
i =
I-
4
2
1
I
t
i
ff
RESTS.
4
2
1
|
1
1
Crotchet
Crotchet Rest . . .
t
Semiquaver Rest.
. .. . . (
i
Demi-Semiquaver .
Demi-Semiquaver
1
Rest. 3 =
Hence, a semibreve is equal to two minims; equal to
four crotchets ; equal to eight quavers, <fcc.
A dot following a note, or rest, increases its length
one-half in other words, increases its length in the
ratio of 2 to 3. Thus, a dotted semibreve ( Q* ) is
equal to a semibreve and a minim (&p), or to three
minims (pflP); a dotted minim (P') 9 to a minim and
a crotchet , or to three crotchets ? ; and
so on.
There are two general modes of time common and
triple. In common time each measure is divisible by
2 ; in triple time each measure is divisible by 3.
There are several varieties of each of these modes
of time. When a piece is in common time, and each
measure contains two quavers, or their equivalent, the
TIME. 65
figures f are prefixed to the words, or the music ; when
each measure contains two crotchets, the figures 4 are
prefixed ; and when each measure contains four crotch-
ets, a capital C, or the figures \ are prefixed. When
a piece is in triple time, and each measure contains
three quavers, the figures I are prefixed to the words,
or the music; when each measure contains three crotch-
ets, the figures I are prefixed; and when each mea-
sure contains six quavers, the figures I are prefixed to
the words, or the music. The upper figure, in each of
these cases, shows how many notes of a certain descrip-
tion there are in each measure ; and the lower figure,
how many of these notes are equal in value to a semi-
breve.
EXAMPLES.
Common Time ; two Quavers in a Measure.
2 i* N i j* r* r* ~i R i F i
Oft has it been my lot to mark
/ I / ?/ I//; // l/i I
A proud, con - ceited, talking spark.
Common Time ; two Crotchets in a Measure.
!/ IJ JUI-ln J I J. / U.J U.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day.
Triple time ; three Quavers in a Measure.
3 h I h M h *i h I h ** & fc I hfc
e J I J. * J I J. *! J i J -i /* 0* I J s
The rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower.
MOVEMENT.
MOVEMENT is the velocity with which a sentence is
read or sung, or a strain of instrumental music is played.
The rate of movement should be such as the senti-
6* *
36 ELOCUTION.
ment demands. Solemn discourse requires a slow
movement ; simple narrative, a medium rate of utter-
ance; animated description, as well as all language
expressive of any sudden passion, as joy, anger, &c., a
movement more or less rapid, according to the inten-
sity of emotion. In the science of music, various terms
have been employed to denote the rate of movement,
the principal of which are the following :
ADAGIO, very slow ; the slowest time.
Largo, slow time.
Larghetto, . slow, but not so slow as largo.
ANDANTE,. .
Andantino,
Allegretto,.
ALLEGRO, . .
medium time.
a little quicker than andante.
rather quick, but not so quick as allegro.
quick time.
Presto, very quick.
Prestissimo. . as quick as possible.
Adagio, andante and allegro, are the three chief di-
visions of time ; the other terms mark the intermediate
degrees.
In addition to the foregoing terms, which mark the
movement, there are others, which indicate the style
of performance. Some of these are as follows :
Affctuoso, . . affectionate a soft and delicate style of performance.
Brilldnte,. . shining, sparkling a gay, showy style.
Furioso,. . . fierce, mad a vehement style.
Spiritoso, . . spirited a spirited style.
Sometimes these terms are used in connexion with
those which express the rate of movement, thus :
Allegro con spirito, quick with spirit in a quick and spirited
manner.
The rate of movement is not definitely marked by
the terms Adagio, Largo, Larghetto, &c. ; it may, how-
ever, be designated with precision by means of the
METRONOME OF MAELZEL.
This instrument has a graduated pendulum, to which
is attached a sliding weight. The higher this weight
TIME.
67
is moved upon the pendulum, the Diag. 17.
slower are its vibrations ; and the
contrary. When the weight cor-
responds to the number 50, the vi-
brations of the pendulum are the
slowest; when it corresponds to
160, they are the quickest. All
the numbers on the instrument
have reference to a minute of time.
Thus, when the weight is placed
at 50, fifty beats, or ticks, occur
in a minte ; when at 60, sixty beats
in a minute; when at 100, one'
hundred beats in a minute, &c.
The engraving in the margin represents the instrument
in action.
In reading, as a general rule, the time should be
marked on the metronome by whole measures in
other words, each measure should correspond to one
tick of the instrument.
In music, it is most convenient to mark the time on
the metronome in adagios, by quavers ; in andantes, by
crotchets ; in allegros, by minims ; and in prestos, by
whole measures.
EXAMPLES OF THE SEVERAL MOVEMENTS.
In the following Examples, the words which indi-
cate the movement and the corresponding numbers on
the metronome, are both employed.
Adagio. Metronome 60 two beats in a measure.
JJ.I J. J* J
O when shall day
dawn on the night of the grave 1
Largo- Metronome 56 one beat in a measure.
O I have
J.
pass'd
mis-er-a-ble
j
night.
68 ELOCUTION.
Larghetto. Metronome 66 one beat in a measure,
\t\ J .PI ft . fc l J 1 I J ^ JS.I
thou that rollest a bove, round as the
j J* JM JV
shield of my fathers!
Andante. Metronome 76 one beat in a measure.
JJ ^ .M J i J- i J J I J.^js| J
1 had a dream which was not all a dream.
Jlndantino. Metronome 100 one beat in a meaeure.
2 fci is fc i p r* i r* ^ fc i v* * \
s J* I J. / I J J I j * / I J. -i I
The tree of deepest root is found
=3j? i f r i jr ^i jr ^ i jr
Least willing still to quit the ground.
Allegretto. Metronome 112 oe 6eat in a measure.
2 h h
jvj;r i / f ; .-'i ^ ; i jr
Shivering in thy playful spray.
* NOTE. The figure 3 over the three quavers which compose the first measure,
signifies that they are to be pronounced in the time of two.
Allegro con spirito. Metronome 104 one beat in a measure.
I / I J* J* J*l J* J* J*l jy.TI JTq
And darkness and doubt are now flying a - way.
Animato. Metronome 100 one beat in a measure.
3 i I I I M f* M I *
8 ! J K r | j j 1 J. y. I J *]
Sylph of the blue and beaming eye !
.M JTJ: I JTJ: I J j* i j i i
The muses' fondest wreaths are thine.
PART II.
GESTURE.
ESTURE is the various pos-
tures and motions employed in
vocal delivery : as the postures and
motions of the head, face, shoul-
ders, trunk, arms, hands, fingers,
lower limbs, and the feet.
Graceful and appropriate ges-
ture renders vocal delivery far more pleasing and effec-
tive. Hence its cultivation is of primary importance
to those who are ambitious of accomplishment in Elo-
cution.
CHAPTER I.
POSTURES OF THE BODY.
postures of the body, with respect to vocal
delivery, may be divided intoJa^ouEaJple and unfavour-
able ; and, the better to suit my purpose in giving their
illustration, I shall first treat of the unfavourable.
The most unfavourable posture is the horizontal. If
a reader or a speaker should lie prone, or supine, he
would not be likely to deliver a discourse with energy
and effect. I have never known an orator to deliver
a discourse in the horizontal posture ; but I have known
individuals to speak in public in postures almost as in-
appropriate.
As impressions communicated through the medium
of the eye, are the most lasting, two series of figures are
(69)
70
ELOCUTION.
here introduced, the former of which are unfavourable,
and the latter favourable, to vocal delivery.
POSTURES UNFAVOURABLE TO VOCAL DELIVERY.
GESTURE. 71
POSTURES FAVOURABLE TO VOCAL DELIVERY.
10 11 12
DEMONSTRATING ON THE BLACK-BOARD.
Absurd as are the unfavourable postures on page 70,
I have known readers to adopt not only all these, but
others equally inappropriate and ridiculous. This is
too much the case, particularly in seminaries for young
7X1 ELOCUTION.
gentlemen, in a number of which it has fallen to- m *
lot to give instruction in Elocution.
The human mind is so constituted, that, in its edu-
cation, order becomes almost indispensable. Hence,
any thing that interrupts methodical instruction, is a
serious obstacle to the growth of intellect. Nor is
order more necessary than perseverance ; consequently
all postures of the body which are calculated for re-
pose, should be avoided by the student in elocution.
And as grace and dignity are of primary importance
in vocal delivery, all postures which are inconsistent
with these attributes should also be avoided.
The erect posture of the body is the best for vocal
delivery ; the trunk and limbs should be braced in pro-
portion to the degree of energy required by the senti-
ments to be delivered. The right foot should be from
two to four inches in advance of the left, and the toes
turned a little outwards ; meanwhile the body should
be principally sustained by the left foot.
The next best is the erect sitting posture, in which
the shoulders do not rest against the back of the seat,
and in which the body is retained in its proper posi-
tion by muscular action. (See Ornamental Letter,
page 11 and 16.)
The next best is the erect sitting posture in which
the shoulders rest against the back of the seat.
These are the only postures which are at all favour-
able to vocal delivery.
t
MANNER OF HOLDING THE BOOK.
The book should be held in the left hand, from six
to eight inches from the body, and as high as the centre
of the breast, so as to bring the face nearly perpendi-
cular. It should not, however, be held so high as to
prevent the audience from having a view of the reader's
mouth, as his voice would thereby be more or less ob-
structed. The fingers of the right hand may take hold
of the margin of the book lightly (see Fig. 10, and Orna-
GESTURE. 73
mental Letter, page 16), so as to be ready to turn over the
leaves, as occasion may require ; or they may be placed
upon the page, just below the line the reader is pronounc-
ing, to aid him in keeping his place ; or, particularly
if the reader is pronouncing an original composition,
the right hand may be employed to illustrate and en-
force the sentiments by appropriate gesticulation. (See
Fig. 11.) ^If the reader be a lady, the right hand may
support the left arm. (See Fig. 12.) I do not, how-
ever, advise ladies to adopt this posture exclusively,
but deem it not ungraceful for them.
The eyes should occasionally be directed from the
words of the discourse to the audience. (See Fig. 11.)
^In demonsj:ating^pn_the black-board, the face, and
not tfie~Tt>ack, should be turned to the audience. (See
Fig. 13 and 14.)
CHAPTER II.
NOTATION OF GESTURE.
want of a language for expressing the different
Nations of gesture with brevity and perspicuity,
fis the principal cause of the general neglect with which
the cultivation of this art has hitherto been treated.
For this desideratum the world is indebted to the Rev.
Gilbert Austin, of London. In 1806, this distinguished
elocutionist published a quarto volume of six hundred
pages ; and from that work I have taken the system
of notation of which the following is a specimen :
When the right arm is elevated backwards, and the
left extended forwards, in a horizontal direction, he
calls the posture of the former elevated backwards, and
notes it eb ; and the posture of the latter, horizontal
forwards, and notes it hf. Now the abbreviations eb
and hf are placed over any word which requires these
postures of the arms, thus :
7
74 ELOCUTION.
eb-hf
Jehovah's arm
Snatch'd from the waves, and brings to me my son !*
Douglas, Act 111
For an illustration of these gestures, the reader is
referred to the ornamental letter on page 69.
The original idea of this system of notation, says Mr.
Austin, was suggested by the labour of teaching decla-
mation in the usual manner. During this labour, which
for many years constituted a part of his duty in his
frammar-school, the author having often found that he
>rgot, on a following day, his own mode of instructing
on a former, wished to be able to invent some perma-
nent marks, in order to establish more uniformity in
his instructions, for the ease both of himself and of his
pupils. The mode of instruction is not so liable to
change, with respect to the expression of the voice, and
countenance, for this is always pointed out by the sen-
timent. But the great difficulty lies in ascertaining
and marking the suitable gesture ; and for these ob-
vious reasons ; because a language of gesture was want-
ing, and because gesture may be infinitely varied, and
yet, perhaps, be equally just. To leave the pupil to
choose for himself would but distract him, and, instead
of giving him freedom and grace, would deprive him
of both. On his commencement as' a public speaker
(which cannot be too early), it is necessary to teach
him every thing, and to regulate, by rules, every pos-
sible circumstance in his delivery ; his articulation,
accent, emphasis, pauses, &c., and along with all, his
gesture. After sufficient instruction and practice, he
will regulate his own manner, according to the sugges-
tions of his judgment and taste.
Among the higher objects of this system of notation,
may be reckoned its uses as a record, whence the his-
* Although an explanation of the gestures on Jehovah's arm t in
the above sentence, is sufficient to answer my present purpose, it
may not be improper to inform the reader that another gesture ia
required on the word son.
GESTURE. 75
torical painter may derive the materials of truth, and
whence the orator and the elocutionist may not only
obtain the instructions of the great men who have pre-
ceded them in the same career, but by which also they
may secure, unalterably, their own improvements for
the advancement of their art, and for the benefit of
posterity. A scene of Shakspeare, or a passage of Mil-
ton, so noted, after the manner of a great master of
recitation, or an oration so noted as delivered by an
admired speaker, would prove an enduring study of
truth and nature combined with imagination. And the
aspiring orator would not be obliged, as at present, to
invent for himself an entire system of action. He might
derive light from the burning lamps of the dead, and
proceed at once, by their guidance, towards the highest
honours of his profession.
Had the ancients possessed the art of notating their
delivery, such was the unwearied diligence of their
great orators, Demosthenes and Cicero, that we should,
most probably, at this day, be in possession of their
manner of delivery, as well as the matter of their ora-
tions ; and not be limited to conjecture relative to a
single sentence of these eminent speakers, on the great
occasions which called forth their powers.
76 ELOCUTION.
CHAPTER III.
POSITION OF THE FEET AND LOWER LIMBS.
THE parts of the human figure which are brought
into action, in gesture, cannot, in truth, be considered
separate ; for every muscle, over which men can exer-
cise voluntary action, contributes, in some measure, to
the perfection of gesture. For, convenience, however,
we may enumerate and class the most distinguished
parts of the body, which effect the principal gestures.
These are :
1. The HEAD. 5. The HANDS and FINGERS.
2. The SHOULDERS. 6. The LOWER LIMBS and
3. The TRUNK. KNEES.
4. The ARMS. 7. The FEET.
I shall begin, as it were, with the foundation of the
building, and shall first consider the positions and
motions of the feet and lower limbs ; since without the
stability and ease of these, neither grace nor dignity
can consist in the standing figure.
As the object of the orator is to persuade, and as
prejudice against his person or manners may greatly
impede him, he must recommend himself by every at-
tention to his external deportment which may be
deemed correct and proper ; and guard against every
species of inelegance that may prove disadvantageous.
He must, therefore, even in his posture as he stands,
prefer manly dignity and grace to awkward rusticity
and rude strength. Rude strength may suit him who
wishes to terrify, or to insult ; but this is rarely the
purpose of a public speaker. Grace and decorum win
favour ; and this is the general object. Rude strength
stands indeed with stability, but without grace.
The gracefulness of motion in the human form, or
perhaps in any other, consists in the facility and secu-
GESTURE. 77
rity with which it is executed. And the grace of any
postures (except such as are manifestly designed for
repose), consists in the apparent facility with which
they can be varied. Hence, in the standing figure, the
posture is graceful when the weight of the body is
principally supported by one limb, whilst the other is
so placed as to be ready to relieve it promptly, and
without effort. And as the limbs are formed for a
mutual share of labour and of honour, so their alterna-
tion in posture, and in motion, is agreeable and grace-
ful.
The body must then be supported, if grace be con-
sulted, on either limb, like Apollo, Antinous, and other
beautiful and well-executed statues.
The positions of the feet are expressed by the nota-
tion annexed, which is to be written under the word
where the speaker is to assume such position. They
are the following :
First Position of the Right Foot, noted R. 1. (See Fig. 15).
The upper part of the figure represents the eleva-
tion of the position ; the lower, the plan.
In this position the right foot (advanced before the
eft about the breadth of the foot),
orms, with the left, an angle of
about seventy-five degrees, as may
be seen in the plan. The lines
which form this angle, passing
through the length of each foot,
meet its" vertex under the heel of
the left. The principal weight of
the body is sustained by the left
foot ; the right rests lightly, but in
its whole length, upon the floor.
This fact is shown in the plan by deeply shading the
left foot, and lightly shading the right.
7*
78 ELOCUTION.
Second Position of the Right Foot, noted R. 2. (See Fig. 1 6.)
In this position, the right foot sliding forward about
half its length, receives the principal
weight of the body, the left being
raised, and turning as far inwards
towards the right ; the ball of the
left great toe only lightly touching
the floor, to keep the body from tot-
tering. In the plan, the right foot,
by which the weight of the body is
principally sustained, is all shaded,
while that part only of the left is
shaded which rests upon the floor.
The angle formed by lines drawn through the length
of the feet, in this position, is about ninety degrees.
In this position, when the feet are near together, the
entire sole of the left foot may lightly touch the floor ;
but when the feet are separated about their own length,
or more, the left should touch only near the great toe ;
the knee should be bent, and the heel turned inward,
as in Fig. 24 and 26.
First Position of the Left Foot, noted L. 1. (See Fig. 17).
This position of the left foot is, in
all respects, analogous to the first
position of the right. The left foot
is advanced, and the body is princi-
pally supported by the right. The
shading of the plan is similar to that
in the first position of the right, and
for the same purposes.
The first position of the right foot
17 x is the proper reading position, when
no gesture is employed ; but it should be occasionally
alternated with the first position of the left, for the
relief of the supporting muscles.
GESTURE.
79
Second Position of the Left Foot-noted L. 2. (See Fig. 18).
This position of the left foot is, in
all respects, analogous to the second
position of the right; and, in the
figure, it is represented in the same
manner, only reversed.
Figure 19 is a better plan of the
feet than that annexed to the eleva-
tions. In both positions the right
foot advances about half its own
length, as may be seen by comparing 18
it with the equidistant parallel lines. In the first posi-
tion of the right foot, the lines ff, ff, passing through
the centre of the feet,
make an angle of 1-
about seventy-five de-
grees ; and in the se-
cond position, the
lines SS make an an-
gle of about ninety
degrees. These an-
gles are nearly bi-
sected by the line
EE, which goes to
the eye of the person
addressed. In the
first position, the lines
c,f, q, a?, 6,* annexed
to the dotted prints of both the feet, mark the manner
in which they are shifted, without altering their own
angle, according as the gesture is directed. In the
plan the gesture is supposed to be directed forwards.
This figure may be supposed to be reversed for the first
and the second position of the left foot.
The first position of either foot, but particularly that
* These are notation letters, which will be explained in their
place.
80
ELOCUTION.
of the right (because the more graceful), is the proper
reading position. It is also the proper rising position
of the orator. But should he stretch forth his arms
towards the audience, when he begins to speak, he
should take the second position.
Besides the four positions above mentioned, there are
two others, which may be called positions in front.
The heels are placed nearly together, and the body is
supported, alternately, on the right and left foot, whilst
the toes of the other lightly touch the floor. The angle
formed by the feet, in these positions, is somewhat
greater than a right angle. In other respects they
are similar to the ordinary positions. The right po-
sition in front, noted R. F., is when the body is sup-
ported on the left foot. The left position in front,
noted L. F., is when the body is supported on the right
foot. The position in front is used when persons are
addressed alternately, on either side, whilst the audi-
tors are in front, as on the stage. It is not graceful,
and should not often be used ; it is too stiff and formal,
like the military figure, and presents the body with too
much uniformity and flatness.*
* This appears to be the position condemned by Quintilian :
" The swing of those who balance their body to the right side and
loft, upon the alternate feet, is very ungraceful."
GESTURE. 81
Connected with these positions which express the
moderate state of the feet, are marked the same posi-
tions in the extended state. (Fig* 20.) These differ
from the moderate, principally, in the greater separa-
tion of the feet. The second position extended, en-
larges the angle a few degrees by drawing up the heel
of the retired foot. (See Fig. 46 and 89.) The first
extended position is made when a person retires in any
degree of alarm ; and the second, when he advances
with boldness. (See Fig. 106 and 108.) An x is added
to the notation to express the extended position, thus ;
R. 1. x; R. 2. x; &c.
The contracted position may be easily understood by
supposing the heels to be brought close together. A c
is added to the notation, to express the contracted
position, thus : R. 1. c.
The attitude of the orator should not be like that of
the affected dancing-master, which is adapted to spring-
ing agility and conceited display. The orator should
adopt such attitudes and positions only as consist with
manly simplicity and grace. The toes should be turned,
not inwards, like those of the awkward rustic, but
moderately outwards ; and the limbs should be so dis-
posed as to support the body with ease, and to change
with facility. The sustaining foot should be planted
firmly; the leg braced, but not contracted; and the
knee straightened (contraction suits the spring neces-
sary for the dancer, and bent knees belong to feeble-
ness, or timidity) ; the other foot and limb should press
lightly, and be held relaxed, so as to be ready for im-
mediate change and action, except in very energetic
delivery, where both limbs should be braced. The
trunk of the body should be well balanced, and sus-
tained erect upon the supporting limb, except in such
instances as particularly require its inclination, as
veneration, supplication, &c. The orator should face
his audience. Whatever his position may be, he should
present himself, as Quintilian expresses, cequo pectore
(Fig. 13), and never in the fencer's attitude.
62 ELOCUTION.
In changing the positions of the feet, the motion*
should be made with the utmost simplicity, and free
from the parade and sweep of dancing. All changes,
except where particular energy requires the speaker to
stamp, start back, or advance with marked decision,
should be made almost imperceptibly. The changes
should not be too frequent : frequent change gives the
idea of anxiety and instability, which are unfavourable
to an orator.
The several acts resulting from the changes in the
positions of the feet, are, advancing (noted a) ; re-
tiring (r) ; traversing (tr.) ; starting (s. or st.) ; stamp-
ing (sp.),&c.
If more steps than one are to be expressed (as in the
business of the theatre) the number may be introduced
in a parenthesis, after the letter marking the step, and
then the position follows which finishes the movement ;
thus, a (2) R. 2, means, advance two steps to the se-
cond position of the right foot. In private declama-
tions, or recitations on a platform, or rostrum, these
figures are not necessary, as a single step, in advancing
or retiring, is sufficient.*
Changes of position, or steps, are considered to be
made only by the foot on which the body is not sup-
ported, for that alone is free. Should it be required to
move the foot which supports the body (suppose the
left, in the first position of the right, Fig. 15), two mo-
* I have frequently seen college students take three steps to the
right, then three to the left, then three again to the right, and so
on, till they had changed their position fifteen times during the de-
livery of a discourse which did not occupy them more than ten
minutes. And I have known a clergyman to traverse the whole
length of his pulpit twenty-three times during the delivery of a ser-
mon. Such erratic movements in a public speaker are undigni-
fied : tiiey betray a want of judgment, and are exceedingly annoy-
ing to an audience. An orator should "keep in his place:" he
should perform all the movements of his feet within the limits of
thirty-six inches square, and not be continually running about the
room as if labouring under the effects of nitrous oxide.
GESTURE. 83
tions are necessary ; in the first the position must be
changed to R. 2. (Fig. 16), so as to throw the weight
of the body on the right foot, then the left may be
moved as required.
According to this principle, it will be found that
from each original a.R.2 >
position four steps ^. M
may be made. (See V<> '
Fig. 21 and 22.) *
The plan of the
steps, in the origi- M ~~lK~~~2r * -J$J
nal position, is in ^V ^ (P\ <\w
the centre, and
drawn larger; the
plan of the steps,
made from that ori-
ginal position, is re-
presented smaller.
The line of motions
of the feet, is repre- 21
sented by a line of dots, nearly of the same form which
each foot should trace ; the line of the free, or first-
moving foot, is marked with a star. In the figures, it
will be observed, that from each position four steps
may be made the speaker may advance, retire, tra-
verse, and cross. In
advancing and tra-
versing, each step
finishes on the second
position of the ad-
vancing foot ; and,
in retiring from the _
first position, the step
finishes on the first
position of the con-
trary foot; but, in
retiring from the se-
cond position, it fin-
ishes on the first
64
ELOCUTION.
position of the same foot. In crossing from the first
position, the free foot passes before the other, and
finishes on the second position ; but, in crossing from
the second position, it passes behind the planted foot,
and finishes on the first position.
The steps from the two positions of the left foot are
similar to those of the right, and do not require to be
explained by another figure.
CHAPTER IV.
THE POSITIONS, MOTIONS, AND ELEVATIONS OF THE ARMS.
Fig. 23 represents a person standing with his arms
hanging unconstrained. Now, if from this position the
arm be raised as high as it can be, as in Fig. 24, the
extremity of the fingers will describe, in the vertical
direction, a semicircle, which, in the figure, is marked
at five points,
R, d, h, e, Z, at
intervals of for-
ty-five degrees.
If, in the trans-
verse direction,
the arm be ex-
tended across
the body, as far
as convenience
will permit, and
then swept hori-
zontally round,
and outwards,
the extremity of
the fingers will
describe a semi-
circle, which, in
Fig. 25, is also
marked at five points, c,/, q, x, b, at intervals of forty-
24
GESTURE
five degrees.* Upon
these principles is
built the present sys
tern of gesture, which
is exemplified in the
following diagram :
Fig. 26 is a sphere,
consisting of the pri-
mary circle, Z e h d
R d h e Z, the right
circle, Z/R (crossing
the primary at right
angles), the two ob-
* The eye of the spectator is supposed to be above this figure.
8
86 ELOCUTION.
lique circleSjZ&R^Z, and ZcR&Z (crossing the right
and primary circle at an angle of forty-five degrees),
the horizontal circle bhcfqhb (the plane of which
passes through the projecting point), and the two smaller
circles b e qfc e b, and b d cfq d b, parallel to it,
above and below, at the distance of forty-five degrees.
The human figure is so placed within this sphere, that
the internal central point between the shoulders, is the
centre of the sphere. The postures and motions of the
arms are referred to, and determined by, the points at
which the circles intersect each other.* The circle
marked q, for the right arm, becomes c for the left, and
the contrary. According to this scheme, the postures
of the arms are determined, and noted as follows :
First) in the Vertical Direction.
When the arm hangs down, at rest, Fig. 23, it
is noted R.
When directed downwards, within forty-five
degrees of the nadir, Fig. 27 to 31, it is noted - d.
When directed towards the horizon, Fig. 32 to 36 h.
When elevated forty -five degrees above the ho-
rizon, Fig. 37 to 41 e.
When pointing to the zenith, Fig. 24 - - - - Z.
Second, in the Transverse Direction.
When the arm is extended as far as convenient,
across the body, say forty-five degrees from the
right circle, Z/ R, Fig. 27, 32, 37, it is noted - c.
When extended in the plane of the right circle,
or directly forward, Fig. 28, 33, 38 /.
When directed forty -five degrees obliquely from
this position, Fig. 29, 34, 39 q.
When in the plane of the primary circle, Fig.
30, 35, 40 x.
* In speaking of angles and elevations, determined by degrees,
mathematical precision is not intended, and is not necessary : it is
sufficient for the present purpose that the position described should
be nearly in the angle or direction mentioned.
GESTURE.
87
When forty-five degrees backwards of this posi-
tion, Fig. 31, 36, 41 b.
From the combination of the three vertical and five
transverse positions (Fig. 24 and 25), exclusive of the
positions R and Z, fifteen primary positions of the arms
are formed. In the illustration of these primary posi-
tions of the arms, all the figures in the upper line (Fig.
27 to 31), direct the arm downwards, but to different
points in the transverse circle ; all the figures in the
second line (Fig. 32 to 36), direct the arm towards the.
horizon ; and all those in the third (37 to 41), elevate it
towards the upper transverse circle. If they are taken
in the vertical direction, those in the first column (27
32, 37), point across ; those in the second (28, 33, 38),
forwards ; those in the third (29, 34, 39), oblique ; those
in the fourth (30, 35, 40), extended ; those in the fifth
(31, 36, 41), backwards.
28 " : "
29 " "
30 " "
31 " "
The Fifteen Primary Postures of the Arms more
ticularly noted.
Fig. First Line.
27 directs Ithe arm downwards across, - - -
downwards forwards, - -
downwards oblique, - - -
downwards extended, - -
downwards backwards, - -
Second Line.
horizontal across, - - - -
horizontal forwards, - - -
horizontal oblique, - - -
horizontal extended, - -
39 " " " horizontal backwards, - -
Third Line.
37 directs the arm elevated across, - - - -
38 " elevated forwards, - - -
39 " " " elevated oblique, - - - .
40 " " elevated extended, - - .
par-
Noted.
dc.
df.
32 directs the arm
33 " "
34 " "
35 " " "
41
elevated backwards, -
dx.
db.
he.
hf.
hq.
hx.
hb.
ex.
eb.
88
ELOCUTION.
39
GESTURE
41
These are
the simple
primary pos-
tures of the
whole arm,
which, with
the latitude
allowed, will
be found suf-
ficient to re-
present most
of the ordi-
nary ges-
tures. Bythe
latitude al-
lowed, the
reader is to
understand
that deflex-
ion from the
true point in
reference to
which the
posture is
named: since
a near ap-
proach to the
proper point
is sufficient
to give the
posture the
name of that
point.
Thecoilo
quial eleva-
tions of the
arm (Fig. 42,
43, 44), are
90
ELOCUTION.
less bold than the primary postures. The fore arm, in
the horizontal elevation, instead of being raised to the
tamer
height of the shoulder, points
about as high as the middle
of the breast; the hand, in
the elevated position, is not
raised above the eyes ; and
in the position downwards,
it is held but little below the
waist.
In delineating the primary
postures, the boldest and most
decided action has been cho-
sen, which is suited to the
epic style; because, in this
style, the different postures
are the most strongly discri-
minated. The colloquial
44 elevations are similar, but
In them the distinctive character is, that the
GESTURE.
91
arm, at the elbow, is bent, and the upper arm held
closer to the side.
The degree of energy proceeding from the sentiment
of desire, or aversion, with which a passage is delivered,
influences much the character of the gesture, in the
same manner that it does the tones and expressions of
the voice ; the language still remaining unaltered. If
the passage to be delivered may properly be illustrated
by the arm in the posture horizontal extended (hx), the
degree of that extension should vary with the spirit of
the passage. If an object is
simply pointed to in the hori-x
zon, the arm should be mode-
rately extended (Fig. 45), and
slightly bent at the shoulder,
the elbow, and the wrist. If
the object is highly interesting,
and supposed to be in the same
situation as if a general pointed
to those troops which he re-
quired to be instantly sustained,
the arm should be extended to
the utmost, the wrist thrown
no, and the fingers down, whilst
the whole body should be projected forwards.
92
ELOCUTION.
46.) The arm, in this posture, as in the last, is con-
sidered still to be horizontal extended, but in the ex-
treme degree, and is marked with an additional x (hxx).
If the object in the same situation as before be sup-
posed something producing disappointment, or horror
the arm should be contracted, and the whole person
should recoil. (Fig. 47.) And this also is considered
horizontal extended; horizontal, because the hand is
directed towards the horizon; and extended, because
the arm continues in the same plane as in the former
instances. But the character of this gesture differs ;
and, in order to express it by the notation letters, a c
is added, thus, hxc. This notation is read, horizontal
extended contracted.
49
50
There are other postures of the arm, which require
?i separate consideration. These postures are named
from the manner of holding the arm, or resting it upon
the body. They admit of considerable variety ; but
the description of the following, will suffice to explain
the class to w r hich they are to be referred.
Encumbered, or folded, noted en.* (Fig. 48.) When
the arms are crossed, and enclose each other, the left
* With arms encumbered, thus. Hamlet.
I
GESTURE. 93
hand holding the upper right arm, and the right hand
passing under the upper left arm.
Kimbo, k. The posture into which the arm is thrown
by resting the hand upon the hip, as in Fig. 49.
Reposed, pd. When one fore arm rests upon the
other, as in Fig. 50. This posture is peculiar to ladies.
CHAPTER V.
POSTURES AND MOTIONS OF THE HANDS.
THE Roman critics and orators attributed consider-
able importance to the manner of disposing the fingers,
in delivery, ascribing to each particular disposition of
them, a significancy, or suitableness for certain expres-
sions, of which we do not always see the force. Seve-
ral of these dispositions of the fingers are employed by
our speakers, but without attaching to them any par-
ticular significancy. Either they are natural gestures,
or they are imitations, of which the origin is not re-
membered, or regarded, as many of our apparently
original actions are.
The postures of the hand are determined by four
different circumstances :
1. By the disposition of the fingers.
2. By the manner of presenting the palm.
3. By the combined disposition of both hands.
4. By the part of the body on which they are occa-
sionally placed.
First Class of the Postures of the Hands, depending on
the Disposition of the Fingers.
The natural state, noted n., Fig. 51. The hand,
when unconstrained, in its natural, and relaxed state,
either hanging down at rest, or raised moderately up
has all the fingers a little bent inwards towards the
94 ELOCUTION.
palm ; the middle and third finger lightly touch ; the
fore-finger is separated from the middle finger, and less
bent, and the little finger separated from the third, and
more bent. The extremity of the thumb bends a little
outwards; and, in its general length and disposition, is
nearly parallel with the fore-finger. When the arm is
raised horizontal, the hand is held obliquely between
the postures inward and supine. Cresollius recom-
mends the public speaker to adopt this posture of the
hand, and for this preference he adduces the authority
of Hippocrates and Galen. But it is not necessary that
a speaker should confine himself to any one posture of
the hand ; variety may often demand the contrary : if,
however, he should prefer using only
one, this posture merits the preference.
Clinched, c, Fig. 52. The fingers, in this disposition,
are firmly closed, and press their extremities upon the
palm ; the thumb aids the pressure, and is lapped, par-
ticularly, over the middle finger.
Extended, x,* Fig. 53. The fingers, in this state,
whatever may be the general position of the hand, are
separated from each other with energy in proportion to
the excitation of the speaker.
Index, i, Fig. 54, 55, 56. Pointing with the fore-
finger, and sometimes also with the middle finger ex-
tended, the other fingers turned inwards, and contract-
ed with more or less force, according to the energy of
* The letter chosen for the notation of a particular gesture, is
not always the initial letter, because the names of many of the ges-
tures begin with the same .letter. It becomes necessary, therefore,
to employ some remarkable letter in the word ; thus, x is used for
extended, and I for collected, which may be easily remembered.
Of the many names of gestures which begin with the same letter,
the gesture most used is marked by the initial letter.
GESTURE.
95
the speaker. This gesture is used in reproach and
indication, from the last of which it has its name, inde*.
56
Collected, I, Fig. 57 and 58. When the ends of all
the fingers are
gently inclined
towards, or touch
the end of the
thumb.
With the fin-
gers collected, as
in a, the hand is
brought near the
lips, or opposite
shoulder, then re-
moved in the contrary direction, with the fingers ex-
tended, as in b.
Holding, h, Fig. 59, 60, 61. The finger and thumb
are pressed together, either the fore
or middle finger, or both ; the other
fingers are contracted, more or less,
according to the degree of energy re-
quired by the sentiment.
Hollow, 10, Fig. 62. When the palm is held nearly
64
96
ELOCUTION.
supine, and the fingers turn inwards,
without touching.
Thumb, m, Fig. 63 and 64. Point-
ing with the thumb, the fingers being
clasped down, and the thumb ex-
tended.
Grasping, g, Fig. 65. The fin-
gers and thumb seizing the garments,
or the hair.
" That gesture," says Quintilian, " which urges on
the words, contract-
ing and opening the
hand with alternate
and rapid motion, is
rather admitted by
common usage, than according to art." (See Fig. 66.)
Second Class of the Postures of the Hands, depending
on the manner of presenting the Palm.
Prone, p t Fig. 67. The hand is prone when the
palm is turned
downwards.
Supine, s. The
68 hand is said to be
supine, when the palm is turned upwards, as in Fig. 68.
Inwards, n, Fig. 69. When the palm is turned to-
wards the breast
and the hand is
held on the edge.
70 Outwards, o,
Fig. 70. When the palm is turned from the body, and
towards the object, the thumb down-
wards, the hand held on the edge.
Vertical, v, Fig. 71 . When the palm is
perpendicular to the horizon, the fingers
pointing upwards.
Forwards,/. When the palm is pre-
sented forwards, the arm hanging down, or placed in
one of the extended, or backward positions.
GESTURE.
97
Backwards, b. When the palm is turned back-
wards, the arm hanging down, or placed in one of the
extended, or backward positions.
Third Class of the Postures of the Hands, arising from
the combined disposition of both Hands.
Of this class a few only are noticed, and those are
they which are most in use among public speakers;
others may be supplied as occasion may require. It is
found necessary to use two letters for the notation of
each of these postures.
74
Applied, ap, Fig. 72. When the palms are pressed
together, and the fingers and thumbs of each are mu-
tually laid against each other.
Clasped, Ip, Fig. 73. When all the fingers are in-
serted between each other, and the hands pressed
closely together.
Folded, Id, Fig. 74. When the fingers of the right
hand, at the second joint, are laid between the thumb
and fore-finger of the left, the right thumb crossing the
left.
98 ELOCUTION.
Crossed, cr, Fig. 75. When the left hand is placed
on the breast, and the right on the left, or the contrary.
Inclosed, in, Fig. 76. When the knuckles at the
middle joint of one hand, moderately bent, are received
within the palm of the other, the fingers of which stretch
along the back of the inclosed hand nearly to the wrist,
the thumbs crossing, or rather, laid at length over each
other.
Touching, tc, Fig. 77. When the points of the fin-
gers of each hand are brought lightly into contact.
Wringing, wr, Fig. 78. When both hands are first
clasped together, and elevated, then depressed, and
separated at. the wrists, without disengaging the fin-
gers.
Enumerating, nu, Fig. 79. When the index finger
of the right hand is laid suc-
cessively upon the index, or
the different fingers of the
left. If the number of divi-
sions be more than four, the
.enumeration should begin
from the thumb. Sometimes
the finger and thumb of the
right hand hold the finger of the left, which represents
the divisio.i.
Fourth Class of the Postures of the Hands, arising from
the Part of the Body on which they are occasion-
ally placed.
The fourth class of the postures of the hands arises
from the part of the body on which they are occasion-
GESTURE.
99
a.ly placed. The notation letter by which these are
represented, is a capital ; and it occupies the place in
the Systematic Ta-
ble (to be found in
another part of this
work), of those two
small letters which
represent the posi-
tion of the arm in
the vertical and
transverse direc-
tion. The parts of
the body and head
most remarkable, in
this respect, are, the
breast, noted B (Fig.
80); the eyes, E (Fig. 81); the lips, L (Fig. 82) ; the
forehead, F (Fig. 83) ; the chin, C (Fig. 84).
The Motions of the Arms and Hands.
In ascertaining the import of any posture of either
arm, or hand, it is important to consider the posture in
connexion with the action by which it is produced;
100
ELOCUTION.
for any posture of the arm, or hand, may sustain differ-
ent significant characters, because different actions give
the same posture an entirely different import. This
must be obvious to all who reflect that the effect of the
posture greatly depends upon the exact character of
the motion, which is produced partly by the direction
which the motion takes, partly by the force with which
it is commenced, and partly by the distance through
which it passes.
The motions of the hands and arms together, are,
therefore, considered ; first, as to their direction ; and,
secondly, as to their manner of moving. The energy
is not here taken into account. These motions are
noted by the fourth and fifth small letters, should so
many be necessary.
In the direction of the motion (Fig. 85), gestures are
considered as ascending, noted a ; descending, d ; to
the right, r ; to the left, I ; forwards, /; backwards,
b ; revolving, v. The stars, connected with the hand
by dots, show the various points from which the mo
tion of the gestures has commenced.
GESTURE.
101
As to the manner of motion, gesture may be consi-
dered as
Noting, noted n, Fig. 11, page 71. When the hand
is first drawn back and raised, and then advanced, and,
with a gentle stroke, depressed.
Projecting, or pushing, p, Fig. 86. When the arm
is first retracted, and then thrust forward in the direc-
tion in which the hand points.
Waving, w, Fig. 87. When
the fingers are first pointed
downwards, and then, by a
smart motion of the elbow and
wrist, the hand is flung up-
ward in a vertical direction.
The flourish, fl, Fig. 88. A
circular movement above the
head.
The sweep, sw, Fig. 89. A
curved movement, descending
from the opposite shoulder, and
rising with velocity to the
utmost extent of the arm, or
the reverse ; changing the position of the hand from
9*
102 ELOCUTION.
supine to vertical, in the first case, and from vertical
to supine, in the latter. The sweep is sometimes doubled,
by returning the arm through the same arch.*
Beckoning, bk. When with the fore-finger, or the
whole hand, the palm being turned inwards, a motion
is made in the direction of the breast.
Repressing, rp. The reverse of the preceding ges-
ture, when the fore-finger, or the whole hand, the palm
turned outwards, makes a motion in opposition to the
person addressed. The motions, in these last two ges-
tures, are often repeated.
Striking, st, Fig. 90. When the whole fore-arm, and
the hand along with it, descend from a higher elevation
rapidly, and with a degree of force like a stroke which
is arrested, when it has struck what it was aimed
against.
Recoiling, re, Fig. 91. When after a stroke, as in
the former gesture, the arm and hand return to the
position whence they proceeded.
* The late John Kemble, says Mr. Austin, used the double sweep,
with fine effect, on these words :
The play 's the thing
Wherein I '11 catch the conscience of the king. Hamlet.
GESTURE. 103
Advancing, ad. When the hand being first moved
downwards and backwards, in order to obtain greater
space' for action, is then moved regularly forwards, and
raised as high as the horizontal position, a step being,
at the same time, made in advance, to aid the action.
Springing, sp. When the hand, having nearly ar-
rived at the intended limit of gesture, flies suddenly up
to it by a quick motion of the wrist, like the blade of a
pocket-knife, when it suddenly and decidedly snaps into
its proper situation by the recoil of the spring.
Throwing, th. When the arm, by the force of the
gesture, is thrown, as it were, in the direction of the
person addressed.
Clinching', cl. When the hand is suddenly clinched,
and the arm raised in a posture of threatening, or con-
tempt.
Collecting, II. When the arm, from an extended
posture, sweeps inwards.
Shaking, sh. When a tremulous motion is made by
the arm and hand.
Pressing, pr. When the hand, already laid on some
part, the effort of pressing is marked by raising the
elbow, and contracting the fingers.
Retracting, rt. When the arm is withdrawn, pre-
paratory to projecting, or pushing, as may be imagined
in Fig. 47, if supposed to prepare to push towards the
star, and as in the dotted hand and arm of Fig. 91, or
in the right arm of Fig. 96 ; or, in order to avoid an
object either hateful or horrible, as in Fig. 95 and 105.
Rejecting, rj. Is the action of pushing the hand
vertically towards the object, and, at the same time,
averting the head, as in Fig. 97, for which Fig. 96 is
preparatory.
Bending, bn, is the gesture preparatory to striking.
It is represented by the uppermost dotted hand and
arm of Fig. 90, and by the strongly marked elevated
right arm of Fig. 91.
The gestures here given will suffice, as a specimen
104 ELOCUTION.
of some of the most useful in this class ; others may be
named, and marked by proper notation, as occasion
may require.
CHAPTER VI.
THE HEAD, THE EYES, THE SHOULDERS, AND THE BODY.
As the head gives the chief grace to the person, so
does it principally contribute to the expression of grace,
in delivery.
The head should be held in an erect and natural
posture ; for, when hung down, it expresses humility,
or diffidence ; when thrown back, arrogance ; and when
inclined to one side, languor or indifference. The
movements of the head should be suited to the charac-
ter of the delivery ; they should accord with the ges-
ture, and fall in with the action of the hands, and the
motions of the body.
The head is capable of many appropriate expres-
sions. Besides those nods which signify assent, or ap-
probation and rejection, there are motions of the head,
known, and common to all, which express modesty,
doubt, admiration and indignation. But to use the
gesture of the head alone, unaccompanied by any other
gesture, is considered faulty. It is also a fault to shake
or nod the head frequently, to toss it violently, or to
agitate the hair, by rolling it about.
The most usual motions and postures of the head,
are as follows. In the notation, the head and eyes
may, without confusion, be considered together.
Postures and Motions of
the Head.
Inclined, noted - - I
Erect, - - E
Assenting, " - - As
Direction of the Eyes.
Forwards, noted - - F
Averted, " - - A
Downwards, " - - D
GESTURE. 105
Denying, " - - Dn Upward, " - - U
Shaking, " - - Sh j Around, " - - R
Tossing, " - - Ts | Vacuity, or "
Aside, " - - S ! Vacancy,* " - - V
The motions of the trunk contribute much to the
effect in delivery. The gestures of the arms and hands,
therefore, should always be supported by the accom-
paniment of the body. Not by affected and ridiculous
contortions, but by the manly and free exertions of the
muscles of the body, the general consent of which is
indispensable to the production of graceful motion.
The raising up, or shrugging of the shoulders, in order
to express indifference, or contempt, is merely theatri-
cal, and should be sparingly used, even on the stage.
The postures of the trunk might also be enumerated,
and be subjected to the rules of notation ; but this would
be unnecessary, as they" are in general sufficiently un-
derstood, being the accompaniment of the motions of
the head, the arms and the hands.
CHAPTER VII.
THE STROKE AND TIME OF GESTURE.
THE arm, the fore-arm, the hand, and the fingers,
form the grand instrument of gesture, or, as Cicero
calls it, " the weapon of the orator." The centre of
motion of this compound instrument, is the shoulder.
These parts do not move together in the manner of an
inflexible line ; but each separate joint often becomes
a new centre of motion for the portion between it and
the extremity.
In gesticulating, this complex instrument does not
continue long in one direct line, nor in any particular
'* Queen. Alas! how is 't with you,
That you do bend your eye on vacancy,
And with the incorporeal air do hold discourse ? Hamlet.
106 ELOCUTION.
flexure, but changes every moment the angles formed
at the different joints, which adds grace and variety to
the motions. The farther any portion of this complex
line is from the centre of motion, the greater space does
it pass through. The least motion, therefore, is that
made by the upper arm, and the greatest, that made
by the hand : from this circumstance alone, the ges-
tures of the latter are conspicuous. In gesticulating,
the hand has not only the advantage of being placed at
the extremity of the line farthest from the centre of
motion ; but, by means of the joint at the wrist, it can
spring with increased velocity on approaching the point
to which its gesture is directed. This action of the
hand is termed the stroke of the gesture ; and it should
be marked by different degrees of force, according to
the energy of the sentiment. In high passion, it should
be distinguished by a strong percussion; and in the
more moderate state of the speaker's feelings, merely
by a turn of the hand, by a change of posture, or ele-
vation of the arm, or by a momentary arrest of the
motion of the gesture in its transitions.
The stroke of the gesture is analogous to the empha-
sis of the voice ; and they should both fall exactly on
the accented syllable of the emphatic word. In this
way the emphatic force of the voice, and the stroke of
the gesture, co-operate in presenting the idea in the
most lively manner, to the eye as well as to the ear.
There are other points of analogy between the voice
and gesture, which deserve consideration. In the sim-
ple and narrative parts of a discourse, there is little
effort or variety of expression, in the voice. Under
the same circumstances, the gesture, if any is used,
should be tame and simple ; but, in the more impas-
sioned parts, both should be equally exerted. The
gesture, also, in many instances, nearly imitates the
manner of the inflections of the voice. When the voice
rises, the gesture naturally ascends; and when the
voice makes the falling inflection, or lowers its pitch,
GESTURE. 107
the gesture follows it by a corresponding descent ; and,
in the level and monotonous pronunciation of the voice,
the gesture seems to observe a similar limitation, by
moving rather in the horizontal direction, without much
varying its elevation.
^ ! Some writers say, that, " in calm discourse, the
words and the gestures should generally accompany
each other; but, in impassioned discourse, the feelings
of the speaker should first be manifested in the eyes ;
then, by the countenance ; next, by the gesture ; and,
lastly, by the words." This is not just./ In^allflis^.
course, wliether calm or impassioned, the words and
the gestures should accompany each other. As, in
beating time in music, the beat is made on the accented
part of the measure, so in speaking, the stroke of the
gesture should fall on the accented syllable of the em-
phatic word. The emotion which calls forth the word,
at the same moment, prompts the gesture. Hence, the
muscles of gesticulation should move synchronously
and harmoniously with those of the voice. When ges-
ture is not marked by the precision of the stroke, in
the proper places, it is very offensive. The arms, like
those of a person groping in the dark, seem to wander
about in quest of some uncertain object ; and the ac-
tion is of that faulty kind which is called sawing the
air. Even graceful motions, unmarked by the pre-
cision of the stroke of the gesture, as sometimes seen,
particularly among singers on the stage, lose much of
their force, and very soon cease to afford pleasure.
All the unmeaning motions of public speakers are at-
tended with the same ill effect as a mouthing and cant-
ting tone of declamation, which lays no emphasis with
just discrimination, but swells and falls with a vain
affectation of feeling, and with absolute deficiency both
in taste and judgment.
108
ELOCUTION.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CLASSIFICATION OF GESTURE.
THE arms, as well as the hands, may be employed^
in gesticulation, separately, or together, each using
similar, or dissimilar actions. Each arm may perform
similar gestures when
the body of the speaker
is presented towards
the person addressed
precisely in front (Fig.
92); but when the
body is not so pre-
sented, the gestures
will not be similar
(Fig. 93) ; and, as such
posture and gestures
are not graceful, they
P are not frequently
used.
The advancement of one hand before the other is
an indication of precedence, as is, also, in general, its
higher elevation. The advanced hand, therefore, is
said to perform the principal gesture. In general, the
elevation of the retired arm is a whole position lower
than that of the advanced arm ; and, though the ges-
ture of the retired hand occasionally resembles that of
the advanced hand, yet its action is performed with
less energy and authority. For these reasons, the ac-
tion of the retired hand is called the subordinate ges-
ture.
There is a class of gestures called significant gestures :*
* As this word has long been applied to a certain class of ges-
tures, and as there is some difficulty in procuring a better, I have
followed my predecessors in its use. The objection to the word is
obvious it conveys the idea that all the gestures which do not
GESTURE. 109
the extending of the index-finger towards persons, or
things, points them out; the laying of the hand on the
breast refers to the feelings of the speaker ; the placing
of the finger on the lips signifies an injunction of si-
lence. &c.
But gestures, in general, are too vague to be com-
prehended under this description : they denote a sort
of general relation in the expressions their power to
do this is derived from the time and manner of their
application, from the place in which they are used, and
from their various combinations. Some are used at
the beginning of a sentence, merely to indicate a com-
mencement in action, as well as speech ; some are used
for description ; some, for explaining, extending, or
limiting ; and some, for enforcing the predominant idea;
some, for keeping the audience in suspense, till the
more decisive gestures ; and some, for marking the ter-
mination of the sense, and the final result of the reason-
ing. These various gestures may be divided into five
classes :
1 . Commencing gestures. 4. Suspending gestures.
2. Discriminating gestures. 5. Emphatic gestures.
3. Auxiliary gestures.
1. Commencing gestures are made simply by raising
the hand from rest; and that, in general, not higher
than the horizontal position. They are used at the
beginning, and at the divisions of a discourse.
2. Discriminating gestures comprehend all those ges-
tures which serve to indicate persons and objects, as
well as those which are used for explaining, extending,
limiting, or modifying the predominant idea, and those
which are employed in question and answer, when
made without vehemence. They are performed in the
intermediate degrees of the range of the gesture, with
fall into the class of which this is the distinctive name, are insigni-
faant, or unmeaning ; a conclusion by no means correct.
10
110 ELOCUTION.
moderate force, and at small intervals. In colloquial
intercourse they are frequently confined to the motions
of the head.
3. Auxiliary, or alternate gestures, serve to aid, or
enforce the gesture of the advanced hand. They are
performed as follows: after the advanced hand has
made its gesture on the emphatic word, instead of pass-
ing to another gesture, on the next emphatic word, it
remains in the attitude of the last stroke till the retired
hand is brought up in aid of it, either by a similar ges-
ture, or by a more decisive one. In this way, variety
and extraordinary energy are given, at once, to pas-
sages which admit of such gestures. Of course, these
gestures are used with great advantage in high passion ;
they are also frequently employed in description, where
they are executed more tamely.
4. Suspending, or preparatory gestures, are so called
because they hold the audience in suspense, by the
elevation or contraction of the arm, preparatory to the
stroke which is to fall on the emphatic word.
5. Emphatic gestures mark, with force, words op-
posed to, or compared with, each other ; and, more par-
ticularly, the word which expresses the predominant
idea. Their stroke is generally arrested on the hori-
zontal elevation. Sometimes, however, emphatic ges-
tures are directed to the highest point in their range ;
at other times, to the lowest. When they are directed
to a high point, they often serve as suspending, or pre
paratory gestures, to the next emphatic gesture ; and,
when made at the close of a sentence, they serve a;;
terminating gestures ; because, when the last important
idea is marked, no other gesture should be added, to
weaken its effect ; the arm should then fall to rest.
As a sentence is an epitome of a complete composi-
tion, having a beginning, a middle, and a conclusion,
among single sentences illustrations of these different
gestures may be found. In the following sentence the
gestures for the right hand, only, are noted.
GESTURE. Ill
shf nef shf st R*
No man is wise at all limes.
com. susp. emph. Sf ter.
The first is a commencing gesture ; the second, a sus-
pending gesture ; the third, an emphatic gesture ; and,
as it is the last, it is a terminating gesture also; and
the arm falls to rest. Should a deaf person observe
the gestures, as noted above, made by a speaker in a
public assembly, he would conclude that the orator
had performed what may be termed a regular period
of gesture, by the commencement, the suspension, and
the emphatic close of the action. Should the sentence
be rendered more complex by the introduction of other
members, discriminating gestures will be introduced.
8hf icf- iA/ Ti-
lt is an old observation, but not, therefore, the less true, that
com. dis. dis.
sJiq nef shf st R
no man is wise at all times.f
dis. susp. emph. Sf ter.
The beautiful reply of St. Paul to Agrippa, entering
as such, at once, into the subject abruptly, without
exordium, has no commencing gesture.
Bsef sp BsJif p q
I would to God, that not only thou, but also all that hear
emph. emph. dis.
x veq a br.
me this day, were both almost and altogether, such as I am,
dis. dis. dis. emph.
Bnef Bshfsh R
except these bonds.!
susp. emph. Sf ter.
* The notation letters, shf, signify, the hand supine, the arm hori-
zontal forwards ; nef, the hand natural, the arm elevated forwards ;
shf st, the hand supine, the arm horizontal forwards striking ; R,
rest, the arm in its natural position, by the side.
f The letters, shf, signify, supine horizontal forwards ; ief, index
elevated forwards; ihfn, index horizontal forwards noting; shq,
supine horizontal oblique; nef, natural elevated forwards; shf st,
supine horizontal forwards striking; R, rest.
I Bsefsp, both hands supine, the arms elevated forwards spring-
ing ; Jlshfp, both hands supine horizontal forwards pushing ; 9, ob-
112
ELOCUTION.
The five classes of gestures, above described, may
be used in any part of an oration. They are, as it were,
the elements of gesture, which, by their combinations,
produce its whole power of language and expression.
These elements are the component parts of every style
of delivery, whether tame or vehement, argumentative
or diffuse, ardent or indifferent, cold or pathetic.
It has been observed that the principal gesture is performed by
the advanced hand, and the subordinate gesture by the retired hand.
The best modern speakers use either the right, or the left hand, in-
discriminately, for the principal gesture, as occasion may require.
As this practice is altogether at variance with the opinions and
rules of the ancient critics and rhetoricians, it may be proper to in-
quire how far we are justifiable in our departure from their great
authority.
" The left hand," says Quintilian, " can never, with propriety,
perform gesture alone; but it frequently acts in support of the right
hand." The consideration of the dress of the
ancients, which differed so essentially from that
of the moderns, may be sufficient to account for
the difference between their customs and ours.
The form of the ancient dress obliged the speaker,
if not totally to disuse his left hand, at least to
restrain its action very considerably. (See Fig.
94.) The occasions on which the left hand may
perform the principal gesture, are the following :
1. When the persons addressed are on the left
side, the left hand naturally performs the prin-
cipal gesture, in order to avoid the awkward-
ness of gesticulating across the body. 2. The
necessary discrimination of objects opposed to
each other, requires the left hand alternately to
perform the principal gesture. 3. The advan-
tage of variety. 4. The power of giving, not
only variety, but force, by occasionally elevating the retired hand,
and bestowing upon it all the spirit and authority of the gesture.
But it is not only in the use of the left hand that modern speakers
differ from the ancients: they constantly violate another precept
enjoined by Quintilian and his followers, viz., that of speaking with
Jque position ; #, extended position ; veq, hands vertical, arms
elevated oblique; , ascending; 6r, breast the right hand is laid
on the breast; Bnef, both hands natural, the arms elevated for
wards; Bshfsh, both hands supine, arms horizontal forwards shak-
ing ; .R, rest, the hands fall to rest.
GESTURE. 113
the corresponding hand and foot advanced.* And yet, if the natural
emotions afford any just foundation for the manner of gesture, we
shall be inclined to give the preference to modern custom. Those
passions which incline us to advance towards their object, as love,
desire, anger, and revenge, naturally cause the corresponding hand
and foot to advance together with the head and body ; for, in this
way, the nearest approach is made to the object. And when pas-
sions of a contrary nature, as aversion and terror, affect us, still the
corresponding hand and foot are advanced ; as if the better to guard
the body and head, which are thrown back. In such cases, it would
produce unnatural- distortion to advance the contrary hand and foot.
Under tranquil circumstances, as when the speaker delivers narra-
tive, or reasons calmly, the contrary hand and footf may* advance
together with grace and propriety. Indeed, perhaps such posture
is preferable, as it presents the body more exactly in front towards
the persons addressed. It was, probably, such circumstances alone,
which Quintilian had in view when he pronounced his opinion, that
it is unbecoming to stand with the corresponding hand and foot ad-
vanced. This explanation will serve to reconcile the apparent
deviation of the moderns from the ancient practice.
CHAPTER IX.
THE PREPARATION, TRANSITION, AND ACCOMPANIMENT OP
GESTURE.
IN the transitions of gesture, the hand and arm should
not, in general, be precipitated to the intended position
by the shortest course ; but, in the calmer parts of the
oration, they should move in a sort of waving line, or
in one returning upon itself, somewhat in the manner
represented by the following diagram :
Diag. 18.
Let/ represent the position of the arm and hand for
wards, and let the place of the next gesture be q (ob-
* Right hand and right foot ; or left hand and left foot.
The right hand and left foot ; or the left hand and right foot,
10* H
114
ELOCUTION.
Diag. 19.
lique), and of a third be x (extended). The hand should
not move in the line of dots directly from /to q, and
from q to x ; but from / go back almost to c (across),
in order that it may traverse the greater space ; and
then proceed to q with an accelerated motion for the
stroke of the gesture. In the same manner, and for the
same purpose, it should return back almost to/, before
jt proceeds to x.
The ascending and descending gestures are performed
in the same manner, under simi
lar circumstances, as may be
seen in diagram 19, in which Z
is the zenith, and R the point of
rest, and where the hand, in
ascending and descending, is re-
presented as making returning
inflections at the principal points,
d, h, and e.
The line of preparation as-
sumes a variety of other curves,
fourteen of which are repre-
sented by Diagram 20.
Whatever form this indirect
line may be, it is used as a pre-
paration for the gesture to which
it leads; and the extent of the
return, or depth of the sweep or
indentation, is determined by
the character of the sentiments to be delivered. The
more magnificent they are, the greater is this parade ;
and the nearer to ordinary discourse, the less it is.
The preparation made by these different curves does
not suit every species of gesture ; it is adapted almost
solely to that kind which is termed discriminating
Another kind of preparation is made for emphatic ges-
tures. They are generally preceded by a suspending
gesture, which serves the double purpose of marking
some less important word, and of preparing for the
GESTURE.
115
stroke of the emphatic gesture. It will be recollected
that contracting and retracting gestures are reckoned
Diag. 20.
amongthe sus
pending ges-
tures, as be-
ing made pre-
vious to some
forcible ef-
fort, and are,
therefore, pre-
paratory to
the gestures
which ensue.
In order to il-
lustrate what
is here ad-
vanced, let it
be supposed
that the em-
phatic ges-
ture requires
a strong per-
cussion of the arm descending forwards, as shfst ,
the preparation for this is the suspending, or prepara
tory gesture nef bn , as in the following example :
nefbn sltf st
Hear me for my cause.* Shakspeare.
susp. emph.
An example of a preparatory contracting gesture :
vhfrt vhfrj
I hate the drum's discordant sound.f Langhorne.
A gesture across, which passes rapidly to the ex-
tended position, may also be used as a preparation foi
rejection :
* The letters, nefbn, signify, natural elevated forwards bending
f>hf st, supine horizontal forwards striking.
j" The letters, vhfrt, signify, vertical horizontal forward retract*
ing; vhfrj, vertical horizontal forwards rejecting.
116 ELOCUTION.
Who's here so base that would be a bondman?* Shaks.
Another example of a previous contracted gesture :
Bv hf rt p x
To hear the roar she sends through all her gates. Cowp.
In the passage from Cowper, the suspending, or previous gesture,
Bvhfrj, contains all the letters belonging to the subsequent em-
phatic gesture, except the last (;?). This new letter, only, is ex-
pressed, and is joined by a long dash, or mark of connexion, with
the notation letters of the preceding gesture : another line of con-
nexion, joining this letter to x, signifies that both hands continuing
in the same position, viz. vertical, the arms are to be extended. The
gestures, marked at large on this line, would be as follows :
Bvhf rt Bvhfp Bvhx
To hear the roar she sends through all her gates.f
But the former method is preferable, as it abridges the trouble ol
notation, and is equally intelligible.
The connexion of gesture is, therefore, the relation
which one gesture bears to another ; and it is shown
by the notation of the circumstances in which they
agree, and of those in which they differ. Thus, the
gestures noted in the foregoing line agree, first, in
being common to both hands (B), and then in the posi-
tion of each hand, v (vertical), and also in the elevation
of both arms, h (horizontal). So that it is unnecessary
to repeat those circumstances in which they agree, as
the connecting-dash expresses them with sufficient
clearness, and with greater brevity.
The connexion of gesture in the vertical direction,
when the hand, without altering its posture, merely
ascends by short intervals, in order to mark a succes-
sion of discriminating gestures, is noted by the usual
connecting-dash, and an a over the word where the
hand ascends.
* The letters, ohc, signify, the hand outwards, the arm hori
zontal across ; x rj, extended rejecting.
f Bvhfrt, both hands vertical, both arms horizontal forwards re-
tracting ; Bvhfp, both hands vertical, both arms horizontal forwards
pushing ; Bvhx, both hands vertical, both arms horizontal extended.
GESTURE.
I mourn the pride
nef ahfat
And avarice that make man a wolf to man. Cowper.
But this passage would perhaps answer better with
the auxiliary gesture, thus :
Bphfa vef
I mourn the pride
vef Bnef bn Bshf st R
And avarice that make man a wolf to man.*
The transition of gesture relates to the manner of
arriving at a gesture, arid to the changes of gesture ;
and signifies either the particular changes of the posi-
tion of the hand and arm, or the general change of the
principal gesture from one hand to the other.
A gesture may have a very different character and
effect, according to the manner in which the hand ar-
rives at its destined point. It may ascend, descend,
move towards the right, or towards the left, and may
also make the stroke with various degrees of energy,
and in various ways ; and these motions constitute, in
each, an absolutely different gesture, though, after the
moment of the stroke, which a painter might choose to
represent, the hand and arm of each should be in the
same precise position. (Fig. 85, p. 100.) As, however,
the emphatic ^stures are liable to ambiguity, on ac-
count of the various transitions which might be sup-
posed to bring them to their stroke, painters more fre-
quently choose to represent the suspending gestures,
which give an idea of action, and greater interest to
their principal figures.
But the transition of gesture particularly relates to
the change of the principal gesture from one hand to
* Bphf a, both hands prone horizontal forwards ascending ;
vef (followed by a dash), right hand vertical elevated forwards ;
vef (preceded by a daeh), left hand vertical elevated forwards;
Bnefbn, both hands natural elevated forwards bending; Bshfst,
both hands supine horizontal forwards striking.
118 ELOCUTION.
the other ; which may be regulated, in some measure,
according to the following principles. So long as there
subsists a strict connexion between the sentiments, un-
interrupted by any considerable pause, or change of
persons, no transition can take place in this last sense :
the same hand which began, continues to perform the
principal gesture. And the variety which it is always
desirable to produce, must not be attempted by the
change of the principal gesture : it must arise alone
from the graceful and well-regulated action of the ad-
vanced hand, supported by the combined assistance or
accompaniment of the other. If the passage to be pro-
nounced be of considerable length, the right hand should
perform the principal gesture throughout the whole of
it. For the left, though allowed to take its place oc-
casionally, according to certain rules, by no means
arrives at an equality of honour. The right hand
always continues the better hand, both from long pre-
scription, and the ability arising from use.
In the narrative parts of an oration, where different
persons or things are to be described as variously dis-
posed, or in the recitation of descriptive poetry, when
a picture, as it were, is to be represented by the speaker,
consisting of many natural objects in different parts of
a landscape, of which Gray's Elegy in a Country
Church-yard will afford many example^the right hand
having first pointed out those persons or objects sup-
posed to lie adjacent to itself, may yield to the left the
arrangement and ordering of those other parts, which
may be imagined to be at its own side. This inter-
change, judiciously regulated, produces a pleasing va-
riety in the gesture; and if the speaker possess the
imagination of a painter, his disposition and colouring
will produce the most distinct and vivid picture.
Variety, which is a most important object to be kept
in view by a public speaker, allows, with advantage,
an interchange of the principal gesture, even when the
subject may be of a more abstruse and demonstrative
GESTURE. 11!)
nature. When there is any opposition, or antithesis,
among the ideas, or even in the structure of sentences,
or where a new argument is introduced, after the dis-
cussion of a former is ended, as at a new division, or a
new paragraph, there may be a change of the principal
gesture. But it will be a point of judgment and taste
in the speaker not to carry this balancing, or alterna-
tion of gesture, to an affected extreme, and not, even in
allowable cases, to indulge in it overmuch ; nor will he
prolong too far the principal action permitted to the
left hand, which he will always remember is the weaker,
and admitted into the foremost place rather by courtesy
than of right ; and which he will, therefore, restrict
with discretion in the exercise of this occasional dis-
tinction.
In the changes made from one hand to the other, the
transition should be managed with ease and simplicity.
As soon as the advanced hand has made the stroke of
its last emphatic gesture, it should fall quietly to rest,
whilst, at the same time, the hand which is, in its turn,
to assume the principal action, commences its prepara-
tion for the ensuing gesture. It will be observed that
a commencing, or discriminating gesture, should be
gentle, as a modest beginning suits its first entrance
into authority. An emphatic gesture immediately after
one from the other hand, would be violent and out-
rageous ; something like the gesticulations of those
little wooden figures set up to frighten birds from corn,
or fruit, which have the arms fixed on an axis in such
a manner that they are alternately raised and depressed
with equal vehemence, according as they are blown
about by the wind.
When the orator finds it necessary to change the
position of the feet, so as to advance that which was
before retired, the general rule is that he should effect
it imperceptibly, and not commence the change till
after the hand has begun its change of action. Some-
times, however, in vehement passages, the oratoi i
120 ELOCUTION.
allowed, by the highest authority, to advance suddenly
and even to stamp.
The subordinate gesture, already mentioned, as performed by the
retired hand, will be found to bear a close analogy to accompani-
ment in music. A little observation will suffice for acquiring a
general knowledge of the accompaniment of gesture ; and after
attentively practising for some time, the inferior hand will as easily
fall into a suitable accompaniment of the principal gesture, as the
left hand of a performer on a keyed instrument, will strike correctly
the fundamental bass.
The general rule for accompaniment of gesture, in
calm and moderate speaking, when both hands do not
perform the same gesture, is that the retired arm should
be about one interval less raised than the advanced
arm, and that in the transverse position it should be
distant from it about two intervals, or a right angle.
Hence, if the right hand should perform the principal
gesture, and this gesture should be supine elevated for-
wards, the accompaniment would be expressed in the
second set of letters, for the left hand, thus : se f-~ shx
pnn. ac.
(Fig. 38) ; and again, vh f~~ pdx , (Fig. 33). When the
pnn. ac.
force of the expression is strong, the accompanying
hand is equally elevated with the principal. In this
degree of force, the gestures are thus : vhf vhx.
These circumstances afford convenient opportunities
for abridging the notation. When both hands perform
the same, or nearly the same gesture, a capkal B pre-
ceding one set of letters suffices for both hands, as Bvhf
And when the accompanying gesture follows the gene-
ral rule, and has nothing remarkable distinguishing it,
the gesture of the principal hand only need be noted;
the accompaniment is easily understood, and will fol-
low of course to the well-practised speaker.
But besides the motions of the subordinate gesture,
other very important accompaniments are to be at-
tended to; as those of the lower limbs, of the body,
and of the head : otherwise the performance will he
GESTURE. 121
igid and absurd, like that of a puppet. Indeed, not
only those more prominent and distinguished parts
must accompany the voice and principal action of the
speaker, but every muscle of the body, and every ex-
pression of the countenance, must join in harmony with
those gestures, in order to impress upon them the cha-
racter of nature and truth. There is no gesture, or
change of gesture, which is not meant to enforce or to
illustrate some new circumstance, which either calls
into action muscles before at rest, or into a change of
action those already in exertion. And this impression
and influence extend not only to those muscles which
are most strong and distinguished, but even to the most
delicate fibres of the human frame, such as those which
adjust the expression of the mouth, of the nostrils, of
the brows, and of that wonderful organ the eye.
An example may here be given of some of the stronger
changes of the head, body, and lower limbs, which ac-
company certain principal gestures. If the right hand
be forcibly withdrawn, and presented vhfc (vertical
horizontal forwards contracted), the left vdqc (vertical
do wn wards oblique contracted), the
feet will naturally retire, and be
rRlx (retire to the first position
extended of the right foot). The
body, at the same time, will be
thrown backwards, whilst the whole
countenance will express aversion,
or horror. (Fig. 95).
The gesture of the right, phf ad,
will be accompanied and noted thus:
the head, and consequently the body, ^ 95
leans forwards, and that the eyes are turned earnest!)'
in the same direction. This evident desire of inspect
ing the object more nearly, is also accompanied by an
advanced step of the right foot, the principal gesture
11
122 ELOCUTION.
being performed by the right hand. As the gesture
of the left hand could hardly be avoided, under the
circumstances mentioned, the notation of it might have
been omitted.
It will be observed, that if the hand, in its gestures,
at any time
approach
the head,
the head
bends to-
wards the
hand ; and
if the hand
presents its
palm, and
pushes, as it
were, an ob-
ject away
97 in disgust,
the head accompanies the action, not only by retiring
back, but by averting the face. And the motions ex-
pressing this aversion are ; first, the eye, directed to-
wards the object ; the approaching of the back of the
hand towards the face, and the head bending towards
the hand, and then the pushing forwards of the palm
of the hand, and the throwing back of the head, and
averting the face at the same time. The notation will
stand thus : F vh f c ~, (Fig. 96), and then, A
,
rH\x
(Fig. 97).
After the stroke of the emphatic gesture, if the
speaker has completely closed his remarks on a par-
ticular part of his subject, or if he has finished his ora-
tion, both hands should fall to rest, in a manner suiting
the last expressions which he has delivered. This
falling of the hand to rest is named the close and ter-
mination of gesture. It is contrary to the correct sim-
plicity of gesture to mark a single word or idea with
GESTURE. 123
more than one emphatic stroke ; any appendix of ges-
ture, after this, would only weaken its force, or render
it ridiculous.
The termination of gesture, or rather, the emphatic
gesture which terminates, should not be made across.
It is generally made about the horizontal elevation, but
sometimes it is made downwards, or elevated, according
to the sentiment. The horizontal termination suits
decision and instruction ; the downward, disapproba-
tion and condemnation ; the elevated, pride, high pas-
sion and devotion.
CHAPTER X.
,
THE FREQUENCY, MODERATION, AND INTERMISSION OP
GESTURE.
As gesture is used for the illustration or enforce-
ment of language, it should be limited, in its applica-
tion, to such words and passages only as admit, or
rather require, such illustration or enforcement. That
is, gesture should not be used by a public speaker on
every word where it is possible to apply it without
manifest impropriety ; but it should rather be reserved
for such passages as require to be rendered more pro-
minent than the others, and to be more highly coloured.
A judicious speaker will therefore reserve his gesture,
at least the force and ornament of it, for those parts of
his discourse for which he also reserves the brilliancy
of language and thought. Sometimes, the absolute
intermission of gesture is advantageous, as in the com-
mencement or opening of arguments. When an argu-
ment is nearly concluded, moderate gesture will give
it more force, and relieve the monotony of a mere dry
demonstration, should the spirit of the composition
admit such addition.
In all discourses, the frequency of gesture will be
124 ELOCUTION.
determined, in general, by the number, the novelty, and
the discrimination of ideas. In every well-constructed
sentence, some new idea is advanced, which may be
marked by a suitable gesture ; and possibly the various
limitations and modifications of it will also admit of a
similar distinction. Thus each separate clause, or
member of a sentence, may admit a distinct gesture on
the principal word ; arid as each epithet is a distinct
quality, added to the principal name, and as each ad-
verb has the same effect on the principal action ex-
pressed by the verb, a new gesture may be made on
each. But for this purpose, unless the word is empha-
tic, a turn of the hand, a small motion in the trans-
verse or vertical direction, or a slight inclination of the
head, is sufficient.
In a sentence where every word is emphatic, each
may be marked with a gesture. Sentences of this kind
generally condense, in a small compass, valuable infor-
mation, and should therefore be strongly enforced and
marked with precision. They should, however, be
delivered distinctly and deliberately, or the gestures
will confuse the sentiment, and even cast a degree of
ridicule upon it, as may be found by pronouncing the
following serious observation with different degrees of
rapidity.
shf nef shfst
Man is born to trouble.
com. susp. emph. $ ter.
Neither the emphatic gesture, nor the force of the
voice, always falls on those words which are the prin-
cipal, in a grammatical sense the nouns and verbs.
The gesture sometimes falls on the word which modi-
fies each on the adjective, which expresses the
quality of the noun, or on the adverb, which has a
similar effect upon the action or assertion of the verb.
The same notation, applied to a vehement passage
requires the arm to be raised higher than when it is
apolied to one of the contrary character. A judicious
GESTURE. 125
speaker will often omit his gesture altogether, and use
it only when absolutely necessary to illustrate, or to
enforce his sentiments. Gesture may be said to hold
the place of high seasoning; it must, therefore, be
managed with discretion, lest it should defeat its own
purposes, and create disgust. If a speaker proves
truly eloquent, he is sure of the most liberal and solid
approbation. But he should not hazard too much ; he
should be guarded in the commencement of his dis-
course, and should restrain his gesture in the calm and
reasoning passages, reserving its force and brilliancy
for the appropriate expression of his most earnest feel-
ings and boldest thoughts. His transitions from the
narrative parts to those which are most highly wrought,
and which require his utmost exertions, should be gra-
dual and just, and free from extravagance.
CHAPTER XI.
THE QUALITIES OF GESTURE, AND THE GESTURE SUITED
TO DIFFERENT MODES OF PUBLIC SPEAKING.
THE different qualities which constitute the perfec-
tion of gesture, and their opposite imperfections, are as
follows :
1. Magnificence. 5. Simplicity.
2. Boldness. 6. Grace.
3. Energy. 7. Propriety.
4. Variety. 8. Precision.
1. Magnificence of gesture. This is effected by de-
taching the elbow completely from the body, and
unfolding the whole oratorical weapon. In magnifi-
cent gesture, the action is flowing and unconstrained ;
the preparations are made in graceful curves; the
transitions are easy, and the accompaniments, in all
respects, illustrative of the principal action. The mo-
ll*
126 ELOCUTION.
tions of the head are free, and the inflections of the
body manly and dignified. The action of the lower
limbs is decisive, and a considerable space is traversed
with firmness and with force.
The opposite imperfections are short and constrained
gestures, rigidity of the joints, and stiffness of the body,
with short steps, and doubtful or timid movements.
2. Boldness of gesture. This arises from that ele-
vated courage and self-confidence which ventures to
hazard any action, however unusual, which is produc-
tive of a grand or striking effect. In this sort of ges-
ture, unexpected positions, elevations and transitions,
surprise at once by their novelty and grace, and thus
illustrate or enforce the ideas of the speaker with irre-
sistible effect.
The opposite imperfection is tameness.
3. Energy of gesture. This consists in the firmness
and decision of the whole action ; and in the precision
of the stroke of the gesture, which aids the emphasis
of the voice.
The opposite imperfections are feebleness and inde-
cision.
4. Variety of gesture. This consists in the applica-
tion of different, but appropriate gestures, to the same,
or analogous sentiments, so as to avoid recurring too
frequently to one favourite gesture, or set of gestures.
The opposite imperfection is monotony- of gesture,
analogous to that of the voice.
5. Simplicity of gesture. This is such a character
of gesture as appears the natural result of the situation
and sentiments ; which is neither carried beyond the
just extent of the feeling, through affectation of variety,
nor falls short of it through want of confidence.
The opposite imperfection is affectation.
6. Grace of gesture. This is the result of all other
perfections, arising from a dignified self-possession of
mind, and the power of personal exertion, practised
into facility after the best models, and according to
GESTURE. 127
true taste. To the more particular investigation of
this quality a Chapter is devoted.
The opposite imperfection is awkwardness.
7. Propriety of gesture, called also truth of gesture,
or natural gesture. This consists in the judicious use
of gestures best suited to illustrate or to express the
sentiment. Propriety of gesture is generally founded
on some natural connexion between the sentiment and
the action. Significant gestures are strictly connected
with the sentiment.
The opposite imperfections are false, contradictory,
or unsuitable gestures.
8. Precision, or correctness of gesture. This arises
from the just preparation, the due force, and the cor-
rect timing of the action : when the preparation is nei-
ther too much abridged, nor too pompously displayed ;
when the stroke of the gesture is made with such a
degree of force as suits the character of the sentiment ;
and when it is correctly marked on the precise syllable
to be enforced. Precision of gesture gives the same
effect to action, as neatness of articulation gives to
speech.
The opposite imperfections are the indecision, un-
certainty, and incorrectness arising from vague and
sawing gestures, which, far from illustrating, render
doubtful the sense of the sentiments which they accom-
pany, and distract the spectator.
There are three general modes of public speaking,
each of which requires a different style of gesture ;
namely,
1. The Epic. 3. The Colloquial.
2. The Rhetorical.
1. Epic gesture demands every natural and acquired
power, on the part of the speaker : to it belong Magni-
ficence, Boldness, Energy, Variety, Simplicity, Grace,
Propriety, and Precision. The compositions which
require epic gesture, in delivery, are tragedy, epic
poetry, lyric odes, and sublime description.
128 ELOCUTION.
2. Rhetorical gesture requires, principally, Energy
Variety, Simplicity, and Precision. Grace is desirable ;
Magnificence is rarely wanting, but may sometimes
have place. Propriety, in a limited sense, should be
observed. Boldness is inadmissible ; because the ora-
tor is not, like the player, subjected to any unexpected
circumstances. He is not, therefore, at liberty to ex-
press surprise, or any other passion, by bold gestures
or attitudes.
3. Colloquial gesture, when concerned in the higher
scenes of polite life, requires, principally, Simplicity
and Grace ; Precision will follow of course ; it may oc-
casionally demand something of Energy and Variety
Magnificence and Boldness are inadmissible.
The gesture of the public speaker must vary con-
siderably with the different circumstances of his situa-
tion, of his sentiments, and of his audience. If the
mere information or instruction of his audience be his
sole object, as when the evidences of religion and the
grounds of Christian duties are to be explained from
the pulpit, or when the details of calculation and finance
are to be laid before Congress, or when facts are
weighed and laws are argued in the courts of justice,
his gestures should be of that class which is called dis-
criminating gestures. These -he should exercise with
simplicity and precision. He should strip them of all
the parade of preparation, and of the graces of transi-
tion, and give them only that degree of variety which
shall guard them against disgusting sameness. This
is far removed from theatrical gesture ; it rather ap-
proaches the colloquial style. Nothing could be more
incongruous than for a public speaker, in either of the
foregoing situations, to introduce the parade and mag-
nificence of theatrical gesture. The charge which is
sometimes made against public speakers, of being thea-
trical in their gesture, probably arises more from some
unsuitableness in their manner to the matter, than from
any thing of uncommon majesty, boldness, or grace in
their action.
GESTURE. U9
When the public speaker aims at persuasion, as in
discourses from the pulpit for public charities, or on
extraordinary occasions in Congress, or at the bar,
when the advocate desires to influence the opinions of
a jury, he will naturally use more graceful, more flow-
ing, and more varied gesture. But he should not fall
into the action of the theatre. He may be graceful,
but he should be simple ; he may be energetic, but he
should not affect gestures too strongly significant, much
less attempt surprise by attitudes. All his gestures
should be regulated by manly decorum, suitable to his
situation, to the character of his hearers, and to the
just expression of his sentiments.
CHAPTER XII.
SIGNIFICANT GESTURES.
THE most important of the significant gestures are
the following :
The Head and Face.
The hanging down of the head denotes shame, or
grief.
The holding of it up, pride or courage.
To nod forwards implies assent.
To toss the head back, dissent.
The inclination of the head implies diffidence or lan-
guor.
The head is averted, in dislike or horror.
It leans forward, in attention.
The Eyes.
The eyes are raised, in prayer.
They weep, in sorrow.
They burn, in anger.
They are downcast or averted, in shame or grief
i
130 ELOCUTION.
They are cast on vacancy, in thought.
They are cast in various directions, in doubt and
anxiety.
The Arms.
The placing of the hand on the head, indicates pain
or distress.
On the eyes, shame or sorrow.
On the lips, an injunction of silence.
On the breast, an appeal to conscience.
The hand is waved, or flourished, in joy or contempt.
Both hands are held supine, or they are applied, or
clasped, in prayer.
Both are held prone, in blessing.
They are clasped, or wrung, in affliction.
They are held forward, and received, in friendship.
The Body.
The body, held erect, indicates steadiness and courage.
Thrown back, pride.
Stooping forward, condescension or compassion.
Bending, reverence or respect.
Prostration, the utmost humility or abasement.
The Lower Limbs.
The firm position of the lower limbs signifies courage,
or obstinacy.
Bended knees indicate timidity, or weakness.
The lower limbs advance, in desire or courage.
They retire, in aversion or fear.
Start, in terror.
Stamp, in authority or anger.
Kneel, in submission and prayer.
These are a few of the simple gestures which may
be termed significant.
131
GESTURE.
CHAPTER XIII.
GRACE.
-
" GRACE," says lord Kames, " may be defined, that
agreeable appearance which arises from elegance of
motion, and from a countenance expressive of dignity.
Expressions of other mental qualities are not essential
to that appearance, but they heighten it greatly."
The gracefulness of rhetorical action depends partly
on the person, and partly on the mind. Some are so
happily formed that all their motions are graceful ;*
and some minds are so noble, that they impart genu-
ine grace to the most uncouth forms : both these cases,
however, are comparatively rare.
Grace, like the ideal beauty of the painter, and of
the sculptor, is not commonly to be found in the indi-
vidual living model, but to be collected from the various
excellencies of the many.
Neither true grace, nor consummate eloquence, can
be acquired by those who are totally deficient in natu-
ral qualifications; yet they to whom nature has not
denied some portion of talents, may improve in both,
precisely in proportion to the degree of their application.
The grace of oratorical action consists, chiefly, in
the facility, the freedom, the variety, and the simplicity
of those gestures which illustrate the discourse.
Action, to be graceful, should be performed with
facility ; because the appearance of great effort is in-
compatible with ease, which is a constituent of grace.
It should also be performed with freedom : no gestures
can be graceful which are either confined by external
circumstances, or restrained by the mind. If an orator
should address an assembly from a narrow window, it
* Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,
In every action, dignity and love. Milton.
132 ELOCUTION.
would be in vain for him to attempt graceful gesture.
Confinement, in any less degree, is proportionably in-
jurious to grace. Thus, the crowded courts, which
impede the motions of the advocate, and the enclosed
pulpit, which not unfrequently conceals more than half
the preacher's figure, are equally injurious to graceful
action. Greece, the native soil of manly eloquence
and true taste, was not the originator of the pulpit.
The restraint arising from diffidence is also prejudi-
cial to grace. It has, however, thts advantage : t
may be effectually corrected by perseverance.
For the maintenance of grace, in rhetorical action,
variety is indispensable. The iteration of the same
gesture, or set of gestures, however graceful in them-
selves, betrays a poverty of resource which is altoge-
ther prejudicial to the speaker.
Simplicity and truth of manner, if they do not con-
stitute grace in themselves, are inseparable from it.
Gestures which are manifestly contrived for the mere
display of the person, or for the exhibition of some fop-
pery, as, for instance, a fine ring, instantly offend.
To simplicity of gesture is opposed affectation, which
destroys every pretension to genuine grace. The more
showy the gestures are, unless they are adapted to the
subject, and to the character of the speaker, the more do
they offend the judicious by their manifest affectation.
When the profligate speaks of piety, the miser of gene-
rosity, the coward of valour, and the corrupt of integ-
rity, they are only the more despised by those who
know them.
The faults of manner are analogous to those of cha-
racter, and almost equally disgusting : such as the
assumption of dignity where there is none in the senti-
ment ; pathos, where there is nothing interesting ; vehe-
mence in trifles, and solemnity upon common-place
subjects.
It is an observation founded in fact, that the action
of young children is never deficient in grace ; for which
GESTURE. 133
two reasons may be assigned ; first, because they are
under no restraint from diffidence, or from any other
cause, and therefore use their gestures, with all sin-
cerity of heart, only to aid the expression of their
thoughts ; and, secondly, because they have few ideas
of imitation, and consequently are not deprived of
natural grace by affectation, nor perverted by bad
models.
The grace of action, according to Hogarth, consists
in moving the body and limbs in that curve which he
calls the line of beauty.* When action is considered
independent of language and sentiment, this definition
will, perhaps, be found generally correct. Rhetorical
action, however, derives its grace, not only from the
actual motions of the speaker, but also from the con-
gruity of his motions with his own character and situa-
tion, as well as with the sentiments which he delivers.
The dignity which is a becoming grace in a judge,
would be quaint affectation in a young advocate ; and
the colloquial, but graceful familiarity of action, even
of the most polished society, would be highly indeco-
rous in the pulpit. Hence, it must be admitted, ac-
cording to the just maxim of Cicero and Quintilian,
that decorum constitutes true oratorical grace ; and that
this decorum admits of great variety of action, under
different circumstances. Vehement action is sometimes
both decorous and graceful ; so also are abrupt and
short gestures, if they bear the impress of truth and
suitableness. Such are the gestures of an old man,
when he is irritated. But the most flowing and beau-
tiful motions, the grandest preparations, and the finest
transitions of gesture, ill applied, and out of time, lose
their natural character of grace, and become indeco-
rous, ridiculous, or offensive.
* See HOGARTH'S ANALYSIS OF BEAUTY.
* 12
134 ELOCUTION.
CHAPTER XIV.
SYNOPTICAL ARRANGEMENT OF THE NOTATION LETTERS.
Letters written above the Line, relating to the Fingers,
the Hands, and the Arms.
FIRST SMALL LETTER,
Noting the disposition of the Fingers.
n, natural. A, holding.
c, clinched. to, hollow.
x, extended. m, thumb.
t, index. g, grasping.
Z, collected.
Noting the Manner of presenting the Palm.
p, prone. , vertical.
, supine. /, forwards,
n, inwards. 6, backwards,
o, outwards.
SECOND SMALL LETTER, AND TWO CAPITALS,
Noting the Elevation of the Arms.
d, downwards. Z, zenith.
A, horizontal. U, rest,
c, elevated.
THIRD SMALL LETTER,
Noting the Posture of the Arms in the Transverse Direction.
c, across. a?, extended.
/, forwards. 6, backwards.
q, oblique.
FOURTH AND FIFTH SMALL LETTER,
Noting the Force of Motion of the Hands and Arms.
x, extreme. c, contracted. m, moderate.
Noting the Direction of Motion.
a, ascending. r, right.
d, descending. 2, left
GESTURE. 13fi
f, forwards. i, inwards.
b, backwards. o, outwards.
v t revolving.
Noting the Manner of Motion,
n, noting. pr, pressing.
p, projecting, or pushing. rt, retracting.
w, waving. rj, rejecting.
j0, flourish. bn, bending.
sw, sweep. re, recoiling.
bk, beckoning. sh, shaking.
rp, repressing. <A, throwing.
ad, advancing. cl, clinching.
sp, springing. II, collecting.
st, striking.
CAPITALS,
Noting the Posture of the Head, and Direction of the Eyes
I, inclined. F, forwards.
E, erect A, averted.
As, assenting. D, downwards.
Dn, denying. U, upwards.
Sh, shaking. R, around.
Ts, tossing. V, vacancy.
S, aside.
Letters written below the Line, relating to the Feet.
CAPITAL LETTERS AND NUMERALS,
Noting the Positions of the Feet.
Rl, right foot, 1st position. RF, right front position.
R2, right foot, 2d position. LF, left front position.
LI, left foot, 1st position. K, kneeling.
L2, left foot, 2d position. S, aside.
SMALL LETTERS AND ONE CAPITAL,
Noting the degree of Extension of the Feet.
x, extended. xx, extended extreme.
mx, moderately extended. C, contracted.
Letters noting Steps.
a, advance. s, start,
r, retire. sp, stamp.
tr, traverse. sk, shock.
c, cross.
136 ELOCUTION.
Letters relating to Parts on which the Hand may be
placed.
E, eyes. jP, forehead.
N, nose. C, chin.
L, lips. br, breast.
The Manner of combining the Fingers of both Hands
is noted by two Small Letters.
ap, applied. in, inclosed.
Ip, clasped. wr, wringing.
cr, crossed. tc, touching.
Id, folded. nu, enumerating.
The Combinations of both Arms.
en, encumbered. km, kimbo,
pd, reposed. (either one or both).
Jt capital B, preceding, and joined to a set of small let'
ters, signifies that both Hands, or both Arms, perform
the same Gesture.
B, both hands, or both arms.
Significant Gestures and Expressions of Countenance,
may be noted in the margin, after the manner of Mr.
Sheridan.
Ap, appealing. Av, aversion,
At, attention. Cm, commanding.
Vn, veneration. Ad, admiration.
Ls, listening. Hr, horror.
Lm, lamentation. Gr, grief.
Dp, deprecation. Fr, fear.
Pr, pride. En, encouraging ; and
Sh, shame. many others at pleasure.
CHAPTER XV.
APPLICATION OF THE NOTATION LETTERS.
THE most complicated gestures are those which
relate to the combined postures and motions of the
hands and arms; yet these are expressed with suffi-
cient accuracy by four, or fewer, notation letters for
GESTURE. 137
each movement. For this purpose they are divided
into four classes ; the notation letters of each always
preserve their own place, as to priority, or succession,
and derive their signification from it. The first four,
or the first three letters, taken together, are called a
set of letters. In a set, as phfd, or seq n,
The first letter relates to the posture of the hand.
The second, to the elevation of the arm.
The third, to the transverse situation of the arm.
The fourth, to the motion, or force of the gesture.*
Thus, phfd is to be read, prone horizontal forward
descending. Prone, is the posture of the hand ; hori-
zontal, is the elevation of the arm ; forward, is the pos-
ture of the arm in the transverse direction ; and de-
scending, means that the arm descends from a higher
elevation. The set, seq n, is read supine elevated oblique
noting. Supine, the posture of the hand ; elevated, the
arm, as to elevation ; oblique, the arm in the transverse
direction ; noting, the action of the hand and arm.
As both hands and both arms are equally capable
of executing any gesture, the letters, and sets of letters,
relate to both indifferently. But they are thus distin-
guished : when there are two sets of small letters, the
first set denotes the gesture of the right hand and arm ;
the second, those of the left. The two sets are sepa-
rated by a short dash, thus : phq pdb, prone horizon-
tal oblique, the right hand; and prone downwards back-
wards, the left.
When only a single set of three, four, or five small
letters is marked, the gesture of one hand only is ex-
pressed ; that of the other is presumed to be easily
supplied, according to the rules of accompaniment. A
short dash always accompanies a single set of small
letters when the dash follows the letters, they denote
the gesture of the right hand ; when the dash precedes
the letters, they denote the gesture of the left hand.
* This last letter is often omitted.
12*
138 ELOCUTION.
When a set of small letters is preceded by a capital
B, the gesture which they represent is to be performed
by both hands.
When a long dash follows the small letters, connect-
ing them with other small letters, or with a single one,
farther on, a change of gesture is marked, which is to
take place on the word over which such letter or let-
ters are placed ; and the commencement and termina-
tion of the dash mark the commencement and termina-
tion of the gesture.
When a set of small letters, having a dash, is con-
nected by a line of dots with another set of small letters,
having a contrary dash, the gesture made by the first
hand is to be followed and supported by another ges-
ture made by the other hand, which is to take place
where the second set of letters is marked. This is
called alternate gesture, and noted al.
In order to prevent confusion, the postures of the
head, and the direction of the eyes, are indicated by
capital letters near the beginning of the sentence, or at
some distance from the letters relating to the hands
and arms.
The letters which mark the positions of the feet, and
the steps, are placed below the line, and under the word
where they should take place.
THE MISER AND PLUTUS.
(GAY.)
R Bvhfr - q peq npdq
1 . 2. The wind was high I the window shakes ; |
m,
veq c vhx c
3. With sudden start the miser wakes ! |
sRlx
F pdc ad -- phq
4. Along the silent room he stalks ; |
aK2
B vhx vhqe Bvhftr
5. 6. Looks back, | and trembles as he walks I |
sRlx
GESTURE. 139
vhq vhx
7. Each lock, and ev'ry bolt he tries, I
aLS.
shq o she i
8. In ev'ry creek, and corner, pries ; |
9. Then opes his chest with treasure stor'd,
D Bseq
10. And stands in rapture o'er his hoard : I
ja
Bvhfe
11. But now with sudden qualms, possest, I
rRl
Idbr
12. He wrings his hands ; he beats his breast |
13. By conscience stung he wildly stares; |
Bshf sh
14. And thus his guilty soul declares: |
Bsdf d-
15. Had the deep earth her stores confin'd, I
aR-2
brR
16. This heart had known sweet peace of mind ; |
vhfvhx U Bsefsp-
17. 18. But virtue 's sold ! | Good gods ! what price |
aR2
FR
9. Can recompense the pangs of vice ? |
D Bsdf d -- - - n
20. O bane of good ! seducing cheat ! |
rRl
Bvhf - vef sJif at sdq
21.22. Can man, weak man, | thy power defeat? |
seb sw sdq
23. Gold banish'd honour from the mind, I
rLl
brR
24. And only left the name behind; |
Sphc
25. Gold sow'd the world with ev'ry ill; |
140 ELOCUTION.
ceb sh cdq
26. Gold taught the murd'rer's sword to kill : I
Llx
shfsh sdq
27. 'Twas gold instructed coward hearts |
aR-2x
Bvbfrj
28. In treach'ry's more pernicious arts. |
rRl
seq sdq
29. Who can recount the mischiefs o'er? |
R2
Bpdf d
30. Virtue resides on earth no more ! |
******
REMARKS ON THE NOTATION OF THE MISER AND PLUTUS.
For the convenience of reference, the piece is divided into sec-
tions, by vertical bars, and the number of each section is printed in
the margin.
(1.) The direction of motion, expressed by the 4th small letter,
r, means that from the position in which both hands are presented,
vhf, they should move towards the right, and stop at the position,
oblique, as noted by q, connected by a dash to the position mentioned.
(2.) The 4th small letter, n, signifies noting.
(12.) The posture of the hands is, at first, folded horizontal for-
wards, as expressed in the notation, Id hf. At the a, connected
by a dash, which signifies ascending, the hands are raised up, and
at the next notation, Id br, they are forcibly withdrawn back on the
breast.
(21.) This posture begins horizontal, as first noted, Bvhf, and
ends elevated, B vef; but the B is omitted over the word, weak,
being understood by the connecting dash.
(25.) The 3d small letter, relating to the transverse direction of
the arm, is often placed alone, but connected by a dash with a pre
ceding set of letters, as already observer (1.) In such case it is to
be understood that the posture of the hands remains as before, and
that the transverse direction of the arm only is changed. Here
each arm passes through the whole semicircle, from the position
across to extended.
The fourth, and the fifth small letter, which relates to the direc-
tion and manner of motion, are also often separated, in this manner,
from the position to which they belong, in order that the place of
the motion, or action, may be the more distinctly marked. (See 9,
GESTURE. 141
15 and 20, in which n is thus separated, to point out the particular
syllable on which the action of noting falls)
The action of the hands and arms, at No. 15 and 20, is the same,
but the general effect is different, in consequence of the difference
in the positions of the feet. In the preparation for these gestures,
the palms of both hands are raised so as almost to touch the fore-
head ; then they descen^ gradually, and when the arms are a little
below the horizontal elevation, the wrists make that particular
motion called noting, on the respective words, stores and cheat.
(26.) Left foot first position extended. To make this position
extended, the left foot is advanced, the body at the same time is
thrown back, and sinks a little, bending the right knee.
(28.) This gesture, Bvhf rj, both vertical horizontal forwards
rejecting, is thus made : both hands are drawn backwards, nearly
to the mouth, in the vertical position ; the eyes, at this time, are
directed forwards, the hands are then pushed forwards, while the
face is averted, and the feet retire, to a greater or less extent, in
proportion to the degree of disgust or abhorrence to be expressed.
AN ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD.
(GRAY.)
I-
La neq vhz a Bpef-
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day!
am
F phf q x
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea ;
rRl
-phf
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
V Bnef d BR
And leaves the world to darkness, and to me.
n.
R Bphc
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
Bvef
And all the air a solemn stillness holds
ice
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
vefrt phfp R
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds:
142 ELOCUTION.
ill.
ieqn
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower
HI
veq U seb
The moping owl does to the moon complain
rLl
shq
Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,
Molest her ancient, solitary reign.
IV.
shfn shfn
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew tree's shade,
Bbdf a v hf
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Bnefsp
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
F Bphf d BR
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
v.
shf veq w
The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,
rRl
teg
The swallow, twitt'ring from the straw-built shed,
idq veq w
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
a Bnef sp B sdf d
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed,
am
VI.
shf-
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burr;,
rRl
vhf
Or busy housewife ply her evening care,
Bshfp
Nor children run to lisp their sire's return,
aR2
Bnef a D F B shfn
Or climb his knees, the envied kiss to share
rRl
GESTURE. 143
VII.
phc
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield;
tdfst
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ;
gee sw phq up
How jocund did they drive their team afield I
eeb bn ckfst
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke .
vni.
irf ihf n -
Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
rLl
pef pdfd-
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure:
Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,
rRl
a - ve f - d - R
The short, and simple annals of the poor.
IX.
vef sp ieffi
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
B vhq sh
Await, alike, the inevitable hour
rRl
a - - vef - a - d sdq n R
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
M
X.
Bphe - q a -- shfn
Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,
rLl
If mem'ry o'er their tomb no trophies raise,
2
vhfp see q
Where, thro' the long-drawn aisle, and fretted vault,
a B nef a d BR
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
144 ELOCUTION.
XI.
ihf vhg n
Can storied urn, or animated bust,
rRL
BL tc
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ?
veq - d sdf R
Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust,
aP2
Bshfsh a - vef --- vdfp
Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death?
XII
idf -
Perhaps in this neglected spot, is laid
rRl
br R veq w
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;
B nef - B stfst
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd,
pec SID -- veq sw
Or wak'd to ecstasy the living lyre.
XIII.
Skfd - : -- q
But knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
pftc -- -- x
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll;
Bvhfrt
Chill penury repressed their noble rage,
BvJiqc B nhfp B br
And froze the genial current of the soul.
XIV.
ihf
Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
Bpdfd.
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear;
aR2
shq p
Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen,
phc q x
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
GESTURE. 145
XV.
vef- br-R
Some village Hampden that, with dauntless breast
rLl
ihf veq v,
The little tyrant of his fields withstood ;
a - B nef - d -- B sdf
Some mute, inglorious Milton, here may rest;
Bvhfrt - p Ji Bvhc
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.
r/H
XVI.
B shfp q x
The applause of listening senates to command,
phfp a a vef rj
The threats of pain and ruin to despise,
Bphc q Bvhx sp
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,
B she q x
And read their history in a nation's eyes,
XVII.
phfst R phc q
Their lot forbade nor circumscrib'd alone
Bvhfrt
Their growing virtues ; but, their crimes confin'd,
B bdf ad vhf eb
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,
Bvhfp- a d BR
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind.
*********
REMARKS ON THE NOTATION OF GRAY'S ELEGY.
(STANZA I.) First Line. Ls, listening. (See complex signifi-
cant gestures.) The small a, over knell, is connected with the set
of letters, B pef, over parting ; and the small d, over day, is also
connected with the same set. Each is considered a fourth small
letter, separated from its set ; a denotes the preparation, and d, the
termination of the motion of the gesture. Second line. The set
of letters, phd, relates to the right hand, which finishes its action
at x, and falls slowly to rest. Third line. Here the left hand
13 K
146 ELOCUTION.
takes up the principal gesture. This is called alternate gesture.
Both hands unite their action on weary. Fourth Line. V, the
eyes bent on vacancy.
(STANZA II.) The several gestures which are connected toge-
ther by long dashes, are to be considered as the flowing variation of
continued motion, till either one, or both hands fall to rest. Ges-
tures, thus connected, may be called continuous ; they are gene-
rally of that kind which are styled discriminating gestures. First
line. The posture, Bphc, on fades, is the preparation for sweep-
ing round the horizon. Whilst the hands are proceeding to the
position, Bphc, the head and eyes should turn towards either ex-
treme ; and whilst the arms are moving from this to the different
positions, q and x, the head and eyes should move to the other ex-
treme. In cases where the right hand performs the principal ac-
tion, the head should follow its motion ; in other words, it should
turn from left to right, and vice versa. Third line. The left hand
drops here, and the index-finger of the right hand is prepared to
point across. The eye should follow the object at which the finger
seems to point, as at a flying beetle.
(STANZA III.) In order to vary the gestures, and the better to
distribute the objects in the picture, the tower is supposed to be
placed on the left side, and the left hand assumes the principal ges-
ture ; this is indicated, in the notation, by the short dash which
precedes the set of letters. Fourth line. " Ancient, solitary."
Nouns, or, substantives, may be considered as the outlines, or im-
ages of things ; adjectives, as the colouring, or circumstances added
to those images, or limitations deducting something from them. In
poetical language they are called epithets. Gray has indulged in
the use of them, perhaps to a fault. But however that may be,
whenever they occur, they almost constantly rob the principal image,
or substantive, of its emphatic distinction, and claim it for themselves ;
perhaps, because the circumstances alone give individuality to the
image, which, in itself, is a general term. For these reasons, the
action, or gesture, falls rather on the epithet ; and, if two, or more
epithets are added to the same image, each should be distinctly
marked, both by emphasis and action : if so pronounced, they serve
to illustrate the idea ; but if they are hurried over, they cause only
confusion. Therefore, the words ancient solitary reign, require
two gestures, one on each epithet. But, to avoid affectation, the
transition should be the easiest possible ; and this will be when the
gesture on the preceding word is made the preparation for that on
the subsequent. When two epithets are applied to a name, the
latter should be the stronger ; and in this view, also, it is proper to
reserve the emphatic gesture for it, as the principal.
(STANZA IV.) First line. On elms, the right hand again re-
sumes the principal gesture. It is here alternate, or auxiliary, as
appears from the dotted line of connexion. Second line. On heaves
GESTURE. 147
the backs of the hands are presented forwards, the hands hanging
down, and in the action they ascend gradually towards vertical eleva-
ted^ on the word mouldering. Third line. " Each in his narrow cell
for ever laid ;" the arms gradually ascend to the highest point, on the
word ever, and then, in the same manner, descend, to rest on the
word sleep, making, in their progress, a momentary arrest on the
word forefathers. It seems to be an incongruity to raise the arms,
in speaking of the grave, which is below ; but this is removed by
the downward inclination of the head, and look of the eyes, as noted ;
and it is not uncommon to elevate the arms in looking into any
thing dreadful below. This is also the preparation for the following
gesture, which requires the arms to fall to rest. From the third
line to the end of the stanza the gestures are continuous.
(STANZA V.) First line. On breathing the graceful wave is
marked. The wave may be considered of three kinds, the graceful,
the wave of triumph (which, in a less degree, is also the wave of
joy], and the wave of scorn, or contempt. The subject will always
sufficiently determine the character to be adopted, though the no-
tation is the same for all. Second line. On swallow, the index is
raised, to point out the object ; on twittering it ascends to the high-
est point in the range of gesture, or is retracted, so as almost to
touch the head, and then on the word straw-built it makes the ac-
tion of noting. Third line. The joyful wave, approaching to tri-
umph, should be made on echoing ; the voice should here mark the
crescendo, which will be contrasted with the gravity of the follow-
ing line. Fourth line. In order to perform the action of springing,
indicated by sp, the arms begin to ascend from more, and having
arrived at the word rouse, the wrists make on it the stroke of the
gesture by springing suddenly into the elevated position.
(STANZA VI.) Fourth line. The gesture on climb is a suspend-
ing gesture, preparatory to that on kiss. The eyes look downwards
on climb, and forwards on kiss. The ends of the fingers approach
the mouth a little on kiss, after which the hands are advanced su-
pine noting.
(STANZA VII.) Second line. The preparation for the gesture
on stubborn is neq rt, and would fall on oft, but is here omitted as
taking place, of course, when the gesture marked on stubborn is
executed. It will be observed that several emphatic gestures im-
ply a proper suspending, or preparatory gesture, and reciprocally,
the latter the former. Thus, when a stroke is required to be made,
the arm must, of course, be raised ; therefore, shf st must necessa-
rily imply nefbn, inwards elevated forwards bending ; veq w im-
plies, bhfa, backwards horizontal forwards ascending ; and vhx rj,
implies, vhx rt, vertical horizontal extended retracting. In the
notation, the preparatory gestures are often omitted, when they are
not required to make a preceding less emphatic word ; in which
case they are prepared with less decision, and their stroke is soft-
148 ELOCUTION.
ened. When the suspending, or preparatory gesture is used as the
principal, as in terror, where the arms are retracted violently, and
in surprise, where they are elevated forcibly, the subsequent ges-
ture is also softened ; and the emphasis of its stroke is remitted.
Fourth line. Should woods not be pronounced with a strong em-
phasis, the notation over this word might be omitted.
(STANZA VIII.) The first gesture in each of the first three
lines of this stanza, is a preparatory gesture, of the decisive kind,
and the last, in each, emphatic. As all the words which are noted
are important, each requires the enforcement of gesture; and the
connexion of suspending, or preparatory and emphatic gestures,
renders the transitions easy and unaffected. Second line. The
noun, destiny, being here placed before its adjective, or epithet,
may obtain both the emphasis and action ; they might, also, be re-
served for the epithet obscure. Fourth line. " Short and simple ;"
the first epithet is distinguished by a slight discriminating gesture,
produced by a small change in the elevation of the arm and hand,
marked a. This is made the commencement of the gesture re/",
which is completed by a suspending gesture on simple, and which
descends to rest on the word poor, with an emphatic and terminat-
ing gesture.
(STANZA IX.) First line. The flourish is marked on power.
The flourish, as expressed in Fig. 88, is performed principally by
the wrist. In order to perform this action, the hand, with the in-
dex-finger, is dropped down a little above the head, nearly at right
angles with the fore-arm, and is then thrown forcibly upwards, and
sweeps round as marked by the line of dots in the figure. To ad-
vance boldly, indicates confidence, pride, &c. ; to advance slowly,
implies solemnity, grief, resignation, &.c. The notation is the same,
in each case, as the sentiments sufficiently show in what manner
the speaker should advance. Of the former (bold advance), an in-
stance is observed on the word power, in this line; of the latter
(slow advance), an instance is seen on the word grave, in the last
line. Third line. The shake, sh, is marked on inevitable. It
should not comprise many tremulous motions, lest it appear ridicu-
lous ; it is sufficient that the hand move twice suddenly backwards
and forwards. Fourth line. The gestures in this line are continu-
ous. The first, on paths, is a discriminating gesture, leading to
the suspending gesture, on glory. The gesture on lead, is the pre-
paration for that which descends to the word grave, on which falls
the emphatic and terminating gesture. The advance, noted in this
line, aR2, for the step, combines with the descending arms, and aids
in looking down with resignation. But it might be rRl, or rZd,
which would express terror, or alarm. I prefer aR2.
(STANZA XL) Second line. From back, both hands (the palms
inwards), move inwards, so that at mansion they nearly touch the
GESTURE. 149
lips, as noted ; they then move outwards to the position oblique, on
the wordjleeting.
(STANZA Xll.) Third line. There is a suspending gesture on
hands, which is the preparation for the subsequent gesture. It
might have been omitted, as it is obviously implied, were it not
thought proper to mark the word hands with some force ; and, in
this way, it obtains the distinction of gesture without extravagance
or unnecessary waste of gesture. Were this preparatory gesture
not marked, the hands would ascend, by a uniform motion, to rod,
then make the stroke on empire, which would be feeble, and, if
noted at large, would be thus :
a Bshfst
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd.
Fourth line. The double sweep is here performed first inwards,
on ecstasy, and then outwards, on lyre.
(STANZA XIII.) The gesture on penury is a suspending one ;
its fourth and its fifth letter, rp, which express the manner of mo-
tion, being separated, in order to place them over their proper syl-
lable. The notation, at large, would be as follows :
Bvhfrt * Bvhfrp
Chill penury repressed, &c.
The first retracting, the last repressing ; this, however, is under-
stood from the nature of the emphatic gesture. Fourth line. The
fourth small letter, c, over froze, signifies contracted. The gesture
on current serves as a preparation for placing the hands on the
breast This gesture, Bnhfp, begins on genial, and the arms are
stretched out, with some force, on current.
(STANZA XIV.) Third line. On the wordjlower, shfrt might
be placed, as the preparation for the gesture on blush; but as the
word does not require a strong emphasis, the notation is omitted ;
however, the gesture is implied. (See remarks on Stanza VII.)
(STANZA XV.) Fourth line. When from the transverse posi-
tion, c, the arms move directly to x, without noting the interme-
diate position, q, as here, on country's blood, the motion is under-
stood to be rapid, and decisive, expressing vehemence or horror.
(STANZA XVI.) Second line. The gestures necessary to be
marked, on this line, are four, of which the second, on pain, and
the third, on ruin, are made by the momentary arrest of the hand,
in its ascent to vef, on the first syllable of despise , rj, rejecting, on
the last syllable, finishes the whole with the emphatic stroke.
Thus sufficient discrimination is made, without falling into quaint-
ness of gesture, or affectation. These small discriminating ges-
tures, produced by a slight arrest of motion, and often by merely
changing the posture of the hand, are more frequent, and more im
portant to the orator, than the more showy gestures, and should be
particularly attended to.
13*
150 ELOCUTION.
(STANZA XVII.) The last two lines have each a series of con-
tinuous gestures.
From the preceding analysis and notation, it will be observed that
the discriminating gestures are principally requisite for the recit-
ing of this poem. The suspending and the emphatic are frequent ;
but the last seldom require to be strongly marked, as the general
character of the sentiments is calm and tender. Of significant
gestures there are very few. The first, marked Ls, listening, over
curfew, is of this class, and perhaps a few others may also be
reckoned to belong to it, as when the hand is laid on the breast ; but
there are not many more.
As these gestures may be varied, it may be said, infinitely, so
there can be no fixed standard, as to the manner of delivering this,
or any other poem, or oration, which should be considered exclusively
appropriate. The sentiments require, indeed, to be delivered with
suitable tones of voice, and expression of countenance ; but great
variety of gesture may be consistent with propriety, provided gene-
ral rules are not violated : as, that decorum and simplicity be ob-
served ; that the transitions, connexions, the time of the gesture,
and precision in the stroke, be attended to, and other obvious precau-
tions, of general import, already sufficiently detailed. The notation
will accommodate itself to every variety in the speaker's manner;
and this must prove a recommendation to its use.
THE SPEECH OP BRUTUS ON THE DEATH OF C^SAR.
(SHAKSPEARE.)
B zhfp q vex sp B nef
Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for
al& rRl
B shf st P/ phz phf st R
my cause ; and be silent that you may hear.
Bshfp br R br pr veq sp
Believe me for mine honour; and have respect unto
aR2
Bshfn DBpef
mine honour that you may believe. Censure me
B tihx Bvefsp
in your wisdom; and awake your senses that you
rRl
B shf n B she x
may the better judge. If there be any in this
0JB
sdfd vefsp
assembly, any dear friend of Cresar's, to him I
GESTURE. 151
br-R
say that Brutus' love to Caesar, was no less than
rRl
ahfst ief n veq
his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose
BaJtfp q
against Ca3sar, this is my answer: not that I loved
nef shfst B veq w
Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had
shfp peq^ sp phfst
you rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves,
rLl
B shfst B nhx
than that Caesar were dead, and live all freemen?
aR2
sef E R veq iD-
As Caesar loved me, I weep for him ; as he was for-
rLl
br veq vhq B sdf d
tunate, I rejoice at it ; as he was valiant, I honour
cef chfst ^ D
him ; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There <
L2 am
B nef shf d Ubr R veq w D Bpef
are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honour
rRl
Bveqsp ceb chfsk BR shf
for his valour, and death for his ambition. Who's
rLl
p ohc * rj pef
here so base that would be a bondman ? If any,
aR2
pdfst ihfre R
speak ; for him have I offended. Who's here so
rRl
pkc z sfif n
rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak;
vef sp B vhfp
for him have I offended. Who 's here so vile that
rLl
Bveqw B shfn A
will not love his country ? If any, speak ; for
152 ELOCUTION.
BvJifsh BR veq v>
him have I offended. I pause for a reply. None'
she sw
Then none have I offended. I have done no more
aR-2
shfn nef br R
to Csesar, than you should do to Brutus. The
rLl
ieb n
question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol;
his glory not extenuated wherein he was worthy ;
ihf-
nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered
phfst B ihb she Fshc^shb
death. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark
rRl
n shfR
Antony, who, though he had no hand in his death,
nef shf n
shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in
Bshc q i
the commonwealth ; as which of you shall not ?
Bnef B R cef
With this, I depart : that, as I slew my best
rRl rLl
Bshfn chfsh
lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger
br st R a B pef
for myself, when it shall please my country to
d B R st
need my death.
rRl
REMARKS ON THE NOTATION OF THE SPEECH OF BRUTUS.
I have introduced this speech, and noted it, for the purpose of
showing that the gestures necessary for delivering it in the true
spirit, are principally the suspending and the emphatic. These are
suited to the vehemence of the speaker's manner, which seeks no
ornament, but hastens to produce the main impression on his hearers,
by the most direct method. An inspection of the notation will make
this evident ; for, even though the reader may wish tr alter many
GESTURE. 153
particular gestures which are here noted, he must change them for
others of the same nature, if he would preserve the character of the
speech. The suspending and the emphatic gestures must still
abound, and he will find little opportunity for introducing the other
descriptions, which are, in general, too tame for the abrupt and ve-
hement style of this speech.
" Be silent that you may hear" On these words I have marked
the gesture for the left hand, as well as that for the right, and also
on the words, " have respect unto mine honour." This last is an
auxiliary gesture, but of the vehement kind. The exordium of this
singular oration ends at * better judge ;" after which, the arms
should fall to rest, and there should be a considerable pause. An-
other division, which may be called the proposition, takes place at
"live all freemen ,-" another, the narration, at "death for his am-
bition ,-" and that which may be called the pathetic, or appeal to
the passions, finishes at "I pause for a reply." The argument, or
reasoning, ends at "suffered death;" and the peroration follows.
" / weep for him." This is noted E R, the right hand on the
eyes, the left at rest.
" Him have I offended " noted on "him" ihfrc, recoiling. In
this action the finger is pointed suddenly, and scornfully ; then im-
mediately withdrawn.
Frequent changes in the positions of the feet indicate anxiety ;
they are, therefore, noted, in this speech.
"His body, mourned;" auxiliary gesture. When the right
hand is brought up on "mourned," both hands become supine; and,
on the next words, " by Mark Antony" they make the action of
noting. At " Here comes" noted JB, the speaker looks back ; at
" Mark Antony" noted F, he looks forward to those whom he ad-
dresses. It would be tedious to point out all the suspending ges-
tures, succeeded immediately by the emphatic, for they abound.
In all the antitheses, which are numerous, the suspending will be
found over the first member, and the emphatic over the last.
EXTRACT FROM YOUNG'S NIGHT THOUGHTS.
U vefn F Bnef
The bell strikes one. We take no note of time
aK2, rR\
Bshfst U ief-
But from its loss : to give it then a tongue
shfn r B phq
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke,
U br R ihf
I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright
154 ELOCUTION.
ief idq R at
It is the knell of my departed hours.
RBvhc q rt Bvhfp
Where are they ? With the years beyond the flood
V ieq phfst
It is the signal that demands despatch:
Bphfx Bvhq a
How much is to be done ! My hopes, and fears
sp-
Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge
B phfst Bnefsp
Look down on what? A fathomless abyss,
rRl
B vefp a B R at
A dread eternity ! how surely mine
vef br..
And can eternity belong to me,
vef Bnef BR
Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour?
U nefc F shfst A ohc vhfc F B veq w
How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
B vhc x
How complicate, how wonderful is man !
U a Bvefsp d B R
How passing wonder he who made him such!
B tc br B nhxsp
Who center'd in our make such strange extremes !
B vhc q
From different natures, marvellously mix'd,
B nef rt pefp
Connexion exquisite of distant worlds !
shfp a nefsp
Distinguish'd link in being's endless chain !
idf n iZ
Midway from nothing to the Deity!
U shf^ vhf vef
A beam etherial, sullied, and absorpt !
d phfst a vefsp vkf
Though sullied, and dishonour'd, still divine!
GESTURE. 155
vtfc U veqw
Dim miniature of greatness absolute !
Bne f d- Bsdfn
An heir of glory ! a frail child of dust !
FBphf U Bveqsp D idf Uveqw
Helpless immortal ! insect infinite !
idfn U refsp Bshfsfi
A worm! a God! I tremble at myself,
r Bbr vefbr
And in myself am lost. At home, a stranger,
UFst R r vefsp vfixsp
Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast,
V BvJifsh Bvec x
And wond'ring at her own. How reason reels !
vefe phfn br R
O what a miracle to man is man,
Bvefv> BR vefsp vhfsh--
Triumphantly distressed ! what joy ! what dread !
Bshfp Bvhfrt
Alternately transported, and alarm'd!
rRl
B br Bvhc z
What can preserve my life? or what destroy?
a nefsp d pdfn
An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave ,
Bveqw Bnef Bscffst
Legions of angels can't confine me there.
REMARKS ON THE EXTRACT FROM YOUNG'S NIGHT-THOUGHTS.
The peculiarities of Young's style, especially in his Night-
Thoughts, render his poetry particularly difficult for recitation.
His use of epithets is faulty to excess. He heaps them profusely,
and in every manner, on the principal idea. Man is here his sub-
ject, which he colours with every variety of tint, exhibits in every
light, and touches and re-touches almost to disgust. And yet he
has here produced many sublime images ; and his very faults, his
labour, his antitheses and his catachreses,* are the source of his
beauties. This passage is particularly difficult to recite. The dif-
* Catackresis, a figure of speech by which one word is abusively
put for another.
156 ELOCUTION.
ficulty arises chiefly from the multiplicity of the images, and the
hrevity of the expression ; consequently, if the speaker is not care-
ful to pronounce every line with due deliberation, his gesture makes
confusion only, and gives an air of mummery to his recitation.
This condensation of images occurs in almost every line; but the
twenty-sixth line, which consists of only four words, is remarkable.
" Helpless immortal ! insect infinite !"
To give force and variety, and, at the same time, simplicity and
gracefulness to gestures so heaped on each other, is attended with
no inconsiderable difficulty. But even should the speaker's manner,
in the recitation of these lines, prove unexceptionable in this re-
spect, the difficulty is but half conquered. They do not, indeed,
require any considerable variety of voice ; but the eye and the coun-
tenance of the speaker must be full of expression and intelligence:
he must appear to be rapt in meditation, which rises into sublimity
as it proceeds, and inflames, as it catches the rapid succession of
thought. On these accounts, this passage is seldom recited suc-
cessfully.
After what has been said in the analysis of the other pieces, a
few observations will suffice for this.
Line 4, " aright," continuous gesture to the end of the 5th line,
where the hand falls to rest with some degree of force, noted R st,
rest, striking. The hand, generally, in falling to rest, drops quietly
and imperceptibly by its own gravity, and it is then noted with a
simple R ; but sometimes the hand is struck down forcibly, and then
it is noted, as above, R st.
Line 8. " How much ;" the x, in the fourth place, means that
the arms are to be extended forwards eagerly.
Line 14, 15, 16, six epithets, antithesis, and a climax: the voice
and gesture must increase in energy, and on " he," in the 16th line,
complete the climax. The first, in each pair of gestures, is pre-
paratory to the subsequent, in the antithesis.
Line 23 to 25. Antitheses and catachreses heaped on each
other, each requiring a separate gesture, strongly contrasted with
that to which it is opposed.
Line 29. F st, the hand striking the forehead.
GENERAL REMARKS.
In order to render every circumstance perfectly intelligible, I have
marked with the notation letters the gestures in the preceding ex-
amples more minutely than is necessary for general use. For gene-
ral use, it is sufficient to note the most important circumstances,
leaving the filling up to the judgment of the speaker.
GESTURE. 157
In the recitation of descriptions of any kind, the speaker must, in
imagination, have the picture before his eyes, and each object must,
be disposed in the same order as if actually painted. If this imagi-
nary picture be faulty in the composition, confused, or ill-grouped,
the gesture will perplex, rather than enlighten ; but, if well con-
ceived, and well disposed in its parts, the speaker will seem to give
it the interest of life by his skilful gesture and recitation ; and the
auditor will almost imagine that he actually contemplates all that
the speaker describes.
Impassioned compositions, delivered with proper feeling and ex-
pression, open, in like manner, to the view of the hearer, the inter-
nal operations of the speaker's mind, a contemplation still more
interesting than any scenes of external nature which can be pre-
sented in description.
As, in writing, even an appropriate term must not be used too
frequently, so in this art, the same gesture, however expressive,
must not be too often repeated. Variety is graceful, and requires
that similar gestures, as well as similar words, should be separated
by those which are diverse.
In oratorical action, it is a general rule that each new idea requires
a new gesture. But important ideas, only, require distinguished
gesture. For these last, therefore, should be reserved the species of
gestures named emphatic; for the former (which are the most nu-
merous), the discriminating will be sufficient. As to frequency, the
propriety of gesture will be found to depend on the deliberation and
expression of the speaker. If the feelings are not alive, and if the
lines are not pronounced with due deliberation, the gestures will
appear to be too numerous. In the preceding examples they may
seem to have this fault, from the circumstance that it is my object
to exhibit at large the greater part of their minute connexions and
transitions. A little attention, however, will show, that much,
still, has been left to be supplied by the judgment of the reader.
The notation, and the analytical observations on the foregoing
pieces, will, it is conceived, afford sufficient information to such as
may desire to assist their rhetorical studies by this system. I would
not recommend that the young speaker, in using this notation, should
mark every possible passage in his discourse, in the manner of these
examples; for such minuteness would lead to embarrassment, un-
less preceded by much labour. The utmost advisable notation
should not exceed a few marks on particular passages, and those
separated from each other ; the filling up of which should be trusted
to the feelings of the moment. But the best method, in all re-
spects, for acquiring a finished rhetorical delivery, is the private
practice of declamation, which is supported on the authority of the
great masters and models of oratory, Demosthenes and Cicero. The
aspiring rhetorical student should select one or more celebrated
orations, couched in the style that he wishes to adopt ; these he
14
158 ELOCUTION.
should carefully subject to all the rules of notation ; he should study
them, and commit them to memory ; he will exercise on them all
the powers of his voice, his countenance and gesture ; and, like De-
mosthenes, consult his mirror, and obtain the opinion of a judicious
friend on his performances. The knowledge and facility, which,
by repeated exercises of this kind, he will acquire in rhetorical
delivery, may be transferred, with advantage, to his own composi-
tions which are to be delivered in public; and, without hazarding
the inconveniences of particular notation, he will find himself pos-
sessed of such a store of various, forcible, and expressive action,
that, whatever his feelings shall suggest at the moment, he will be
able to execute in a satisfactory manner.
GESTURE. 159
QUESTIONS
TO BE ANSWERED BY THE PUPIL.
ELOCUTION.
Page 15. What is Elocution 7 What does Elocution comprise 7
What does the science of Elocution embrace 7 What does the art
of Elocution embrace ? How is Elocution divided ? What is Vo-
cal Gymnastics 7 What is Gesture 7 How is Vocal Gymnastics
subdivided 7
ARTICULATION.
Page 16. What is Articulation] What is Pitch? What is
Force 1 What is Time 7 Can the elements of vocal language be
formed separately 7 What is good articulation 1 What advantage
results from good articulation 1 ?
Page 17. Can one be a good reader, or speaker, whose articu-
lation is imperfect? What is the condition of the organs of articu-
lation in those who have never been in the practice of pronounc-
ing their words distinctly 1 What is the best method for rendering
the muscles of articulation obedient to the commands of the will 7
Page 18. What are the elements of vocal language 7 What
is the number of letters in the English language? What is the
number of elements in the English language 7
Page 19. How are the elements divided 7 Describe the vow-
els the subvowels the aspirates. Pronounce the vowels the
subvowels the aspirates.
Page 20. Why are not C, J, Q, and X, classed with the ele-
ments?
Page 21. How are the vowels divided 7 What is a monothong ?
By what letters are the monothongs represented 7 What is a diph-
thong? By what letters are the diphthongs represented? What
are the constituents of the diphthongs? What is a triphthong?
By what letters are the triphthongs represented ? ' What are the
constituents of the triphthongs ?
Page 22. Are there any other diphthongs and triphthongs ?
By what letters are they represented 7 Do they increase the num-
ber of the elements? Give an analysis of them. What is the
condition of the aperture of the mouth, during the utterance of a
monothong ? a diphthong 7 a triphthong 7
160 ELOCUTION.
Page 23. Of what does B consist, and how is it formed 1 Of
what does D consist, and how is it formed 1
Page 24. Describe G. What is L? What is Ml What is
N 1 What is NG 1 What is R, and how many varieties are there
of this element? When should R be trilled, and when made
smooth ?
Page 25. What is TH, in then, and how is it formed ? What
is V, and how is it formed 1 Describe W. Describe Y. What kind
of a sound is Z, in zone, and how is it formed 1 What is Z, in
azure, and how is it formed] How is F formed'! What is H?
In how many ways may H be uttered ? How is K formed 1
Page 26. How is P formed 1 Describe S. Describe SH. How
is T formed? Describe TH, in thin. What is WH, and what
posture of the mouth does it require 1
Page 27. Are there any elements that require more than one
posture of the mouth'? How is a vowel exploded? What advan-
tage results from exploding the elements?
Page 30. What is defective articulation ? Is it common ? From
what does it arise? Children are apt to say day for gay ; tate for
cake, &c. how may these faults be corrected ?
Page 31. Some children pronounce John, don ; Charles, tarles,
&c. how may these faults be corrected ?
Page 32. Some persons confound V and W what exercises
will be found beneficial in correcting these faults? In correcting
errors in articulation, why is it advantageous to practise the exer-
cises before a mirror ? What is lisping ? What is the remedy for
lisping ?
Page 33. What is stammering? How does the cause operate ?
How is stammering cured? Does every case require the same
treatment ? Can any one treat stammering successfully 1
PITCH.
Page 38. What is pitch 1 There are two divisions of pitch
what are they ?
Page 39. What is the Diatonic Scale ? What is the order of
the scale ? What is the octave ?
Page 40. What is an interval ? What is a discrete interval ?
What is a concrete interval? Name the principal intervals.
What is the difference between a major third and r a minor third ?
Page 41. How many sorts of voice do we employ in the ex-
pression of our thoughts ? Describe them. What, do the Italians
mean by the terms voce di petto and voce di testa ?
Page 42. Describe the whispering voice. In what respect
does the female voice differ from that of the male? Describe the
voices of boys. How is the voice divided? What is the orotund
voice ?
Page 46. To what range of pitch is the speaking voice mostly
QUESTIONS. 161
confined, in good elocution ? There is a very common fault, in re-
gard to pitching the voice what is itl
Page 47. What are inflections 1 How many different inflec-^
tions are described by writers on Elocution ? In what respect does
a rising inflection differ from a falling inflection ?
Page 49. What is the extent of the concrete intervals of the
notes of speech ? Do falling inflections traverse the same range of
pitch as their corresponding rising inflections?
Page 50. In what other respect do these inflections differ ?
Give some account of the circumflexes.
Page 51. Why should not a falling inflection be used for the sake of
mere variety ? W T hat should determine the direction of inflections 1
Page 52. What is melody 1 ? How is melody distinguished
from harmony 1 What is notation ? What is intonation ? On
what is melody founded 1
Page 53. In what respect does the melody of speech differ from
that of song ? Is it necessary, for practical purposes, to present
every syllable in speech under its proper note, as is done in song ?
Page 54. What is an emphasis melody? Describe the staff
of speech. Give an example of emphasis melody. What is the
pitch-note of speech?
Page 55. On which line of the staff is the pitch-note written ?
What is the effect of reading altogether in the pitch-note ? How
is the voice properly varied in pitch ? Is the melody of speech con-
fined to four degrees of pitch, whose intervals are as determinate as
those of the Diatonic Scale ? Does the melody of speech consist
solely of emphasis melodies ? Mention some points in which the
graphic notes of song, and those of an emphasis melody, differ.
What care is necessary to be taken in reading emphasis melodies ?
Page 56. What is modulation ? How is modulation effected,
and with what is it generally accompanied ? What is the province
of modulation ? Describe the staff of modulation.
Page 57. Give an example of modulation.
FORCE.
Page 59. What is force 1 How is force divided 1 How are
the terms high and low, and loud and soft, applied to force ? By
what are the nine degrees of force expressed ?
Page 60. In what way should force be varied ? What is stress ?
What is radical stress 1 ? What is median stress?
Page 61. What is final stress? What is explosive stress?
What is tremour ? How may tremour be illustrated ? Why is it
necessary to pay attention to the subject of force ?
TIME.
Page 63. What is time ? How is time, in music, divided ?
How does the time of speech differ from that of song ?
14* ' L
162 ELOCUTION.
Page 64. What is quantity 1 By what characters is quantity
represented ] What is their relative value 1 What is the effect
\>f a dot, when affixed to a note, or rest 1 How many general
modes of time are there 1 How are they distinguished "? Name
some of the varieties of the two general modes of time.
Page 65. What is movement ? How should the rate of move-
ment be regulated ?
Page 66. What terms are employed to denote the rate of move-
ment] What are the three chief divisions of time ? Name some
of the terms which indicate the style of performance. Are not
these terms sometimes used in connexion with those which express
the movement 1 Give an example. Is the rate of movement de-
finitely marked by the terms, Adagio, Largo, &c. ] How may it
be designated with precision "? Describe the Metronome.
Page 67. How should the time be marked on the Metronome, in
reading ? How should it be marked in music 1
GESTURE.
Page 69. What is gesture ] How may the postures of the
body, with respect to vocal delivery, be divided ? Describe some
of the unfavourable postures.
Page 72. What postures are favourable to vocal delivery 1 In
$hat manner should the book be held, in reading ]
Page 73. In demonstrating on the black-board, should the faco,
or back, be turned towards the audience 1 What is the cause of
the general neglect with which the cultivation of the art of gesture
has hitherto been treated ] To whom is the world indebted for a
system of notation of gesture ? Give an example of the notation.
Page 74. What suggested the idea of this system of notation 1
What may be reckoned among the higher objects of this system of
notation ?
Page 76. What parts of the body are brought into action, in
gesture ? What should be the external deportment of the orator ]
In what does the gracefulness of motion, in the human form, consist?
Page 77. How should the orator stand, to be graceful 1 How
are the positions of the feet expressed ? Describe the first position
of the right foot.
Page 78. Describe the second position of the right foot. What
is the first position of the left foot ?
Page 79. Describe the second position of the left foot. Which
is the proper reading position ?
Page 80. Which is the proper rising position of the orator 1
Describe the positions in front.
Page 81. Describe the positions of the feet in the extended
state. Describe the contracted position. What attitudes and po-
sitions should the orator adopt ?
Page 82. In changing the positions of the feet, how should the
QUESTIONS. 163
motions be made? Why should an orator not change his position
frequently 1 What are the several acts resulting irom the changes
in the positions of the feet, and how are they noted ? How are two
or more steps expressed ? How are changes of position, or steps, to
be madel
Page 83. How many steps may be made from each original
position 1 Describe them.
Page 84, 85. By what sort of a diagram is the present system
of gesture exemplified 1
Page 86. To what are postures and motions of the arm referred,
and how are they noted 1
Page 87. How many primary postures of the arm are there?
How are the fifteen primary postures of the arm more particularly
noted ?
Page 89. In referring gestures to certain points in a sphere, is
mathematical precision necessary ? What is there peculiar in the
colloquial elevations of the arm 1
Page 91. How does the degree of energy, proceeding from the
sentiment of desire, or aversion, influence the character of gesture 1
How is the notation varied, to mark the different degrees of exten-
sion of the arm ?
Page 91. Enumerate some of the postures of the arm which
are named from the manner of holding the arm, or resting it upon
the body.
Page 93. By what circumstances are the postures of the hand
determined ? Describe some of the postures belonging to the first
class.
Page 96. Describe the postures of the second class, which de-
pend on the manner of presenting the palm.
Page 97. Describe the postures of the third class, arising from
the combined disposition of the hands.
Page 98. Describe the fourth class.
Page 100. Why may any posture of the arm, or hand, sustain
different significant characters 1 How are the motions of the hands
and arms considered, and how are they noted 1
Page 101. What is noting 1 What is projecting, or pushing ?
How is waving performed, and how is it noted 1 How is the
flourish performed, and how is it noted ? What is the sweep, and
how is it noted 1
Page 102. What is beckoning 1 What is repressing 1 What
is striking, and how is it noted ] What is recoiling 1
Page 103. How is advancing performed ? What is springing I
What is throwing ? What is clinching ? How is collecting per-
formed 1 What is shaking 1 What is pressing ? What is re-
tracting ? What is rejecting ? What is bending ?
Page 104. Why should an orator hold his head erect ? To
what should the movements of the head be adapted ? Name the
164 ELOCUTION.
principal postures and motions of the head, and direction of the eyes,
with their notation letters.
Page 105. In what manner should the motions of the body ac-
company those of the hands and arms'? What forms the grand
instrument of gesture 1 Where is the centre of motion of this com-
pound instrument] Do these parts move together in the manner
of an inflexible line ? In gesticulating, does this complex instru-
ment continue long in one direct line, or in any particular flexure?
Page 106. What is the stroke of the gesture? Should the
stroke of the gesture always be made with the same degree offeree ?
To what is the stroke of the gesture analogous 1 Are there any
other points of analogy between the voice and gesture ?
Page 107. Is it important that the stroke of the gesture should
fall precisely on the accented syllable of the emphatic word ? W 7 hat
kind of gesture is that which is called sawing the air ? With what
effect are all unmeaning motions of public speakers attended?
Page 108. What is meant by the terms principal gesture, and
subordinate gesture ? What are significant gestures 1
Page 109. Are the majority of gestures significant? What do
gestures, in general, denote ? Into how many classes are these
various gestures divided ! What are commencing gestures ? What
are discriminating gestures?
Page 110. What are auxiliary gestures? W 7 hat are suspend-
ing gestures? What are emphatic gestures?
Page 111. Give illustrations of these several gestures.
Page 112. May these five classes of gestures be used in any
part of discourse? Do modern orators ever perform the principal
gesture with the left hand ? Is not this practice at variance with
the rules of Quintilian ? How do you account for this difference
between the customs of the ancient and modern orators? On what
occasions may the left hand perform the principal gesture? Do the
moderns violate another precept of Quintilian ?
Page 113. Under what circumstances do the corresponding
hand and foot naturally advance together? When may the con-
trary hand and foot advance together? In the transitions of ges-
ture, should the hand and arm always be precipitated to the intended
position by the shortest course ? Describe some of these curves.
Page 114. For what purpose is this indirect line used? By
what is the extent of the return, or depth of the sweep, deter-
mined? Does the preparation made by these curves suit every
species of gesture? What kinti of preparation is generally made
for emphatic gestures?
Page 115. Illustrate it by examples.
Page 116. What is the connexion of gesture, and how is it
shown ? How is the connexion of gesture, in the vertical direction,
noted ?
Page 117. Illustrate the connexion of. gesture in the vertical
QUESTIONS. 165
direction by an example? To what does the transition of gesture
relate, and what does it signify ? May a gesture have a very
different character and effect, according to the manner in which
the hand arrives at its destined point? Why do painters generally
choose to represent the suspending gestures] To what does the
transition of gesture particularly relate?
Page 118. If the passage to be pronounced be of considerable
length, why should the right hand perform the principal gesture
throughout the whole of it) Under what circumstances may the
right hand yield to the left the performance of the principal gesture ?
Page 119. May not this balancing, or alternation of gesture, be
carried to an affected extreme ? How should the transition of ges-
ture, from one hand to the other, be managed ! What is the gene-
ral rule, in regard to changing the position of the feet 1
Page 120. What is the general rule for accompaniment of ges-
ture, in calm and moderate speaking, when both hands do not per-
form the same gesture? What important accompaniments are to
be attended to besides the motions of the subordinate gesture?
Page 121. Give an example of some of the stronger changes of
the head, body, and lower limbs, which accompany certain principal
gestures.
Page 122. Describe, in their natural order, the several motions
which may be employed in expressing aversion. What is the close
and termination of gesture, and '.n what manner should it be ef-
fected ? Should a single word, or idea, be marked with more than
one emphatic stroke?
Page 123. Is there any particular point of elevation at which
emphatic gestures should terminate ? Should gesture be limited,
in its application, to any particular words and passages ? For what
parts of the oration will a judicious speaker reserve the force and
ornament of gesture ? By what should the frequency of gesture be
determined ?
Page 124. In what kind of sentences may a gesture be made
on each word ? Why should a sentence be slowly delivered, in
which a gesture is made on almost every word ? Does the em-
phatic gesture always fall on those words which are the principal,
in a grammatical sense the nouns and verbs ? Under what cir-
cumstances should gestures, which are noted alike, be varied ?
Page 125. Should there be any cessation of gesture during the
delivery of a discourse ? What is gesture said to hold the place of?
How, then, should it be managed ? What are the principal quali-
ties which constitute the perfection of gesture ? How is magnifi-
cence of gesture effected ?
Page 126. What are the opposite imperfections ? From what
does boldness of gesture arise ? What is the opposite imperfection ?
Of what does energy of gesture consist ? What are the opposite
imperfections ? Of what does variety of gesture consist ? What
166 ELOCUTION.
is the opposite imperfection 1 What is simplicity of gesture ?
What is the opposite imperfection ? What is grace of gesture 1
Page 127. What is the opposite imperfection ? What is pro-
priety of gesture? What are the opposite imperfections? From
what does precision of gesture arise ? What are the opposite im-
perfections 1 What are the three general modes of public speak-
ing ? Does each require a different style of gesture ? What does
epic gesture demand ?
Page 128. What does rhetorical gesture require ? What does
colloquial gesture require ? Under what circumstances should the
gestures of the public speaker be principally of that class which is
called discriminating gestures 1 How should he perform them ?
From what does the charge, which is sometimes made against pub-
lic speakers, of being theatrical in their gesture, probably arise ?
Page 129. On what occasions should the public speaker use
more graceful, more flowing, and more varied gesture ? What
should he guard against, and how should all his gestures be regu-
lated ? What are the most important significant gestures of the
head and face ? What are the most important significant gestures
of the eyes 1
Page 130. What are the most important significant gestures
of the arms ? Name some of the most important significant ges-
tures of the body. What are some of the most important signifi-
cant gestures of the lower limbs 1
Page 131. What is Lord Kames's definition of grace? On
what does the gracefulness of rhetorical action depend ? Where is
grace to be found ? Can true grace and consummate eloquence be
acquired by every one 1 In what does the grace of oratorical ac-
tion consist ? Why should action, to be graceful, be performed
with facility? Why should it be performed with freedom?
Page 132. What are some of the situations in which it would
be impossible for an orator to be truly graceful ? Is the restraint
arising from diffidence prejudicial to grace ? How may it be cor-
rected ? What is indispensable for the maintenance of grace in
rhetorical action ? Do simplicity and truth of manner constitute
grace ? What effect have gestures, which are contrived for the
mere display of the person, or for the exhibition of some foppery,
as, for instance, a fine ring ? What effect has affectation upon ora-
torical grace ? What are some of the faults of manner ?
Page 133. Why is the action of young children never deficient
in grace 1 In what does the grace of action consist, according to
Hogarth ? Is his definition correct ? From what does rhetorical
action derive its grace ?
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
HAVING treated of the principles of Reading and
Speaking, it is now necessary, in order to render this
Work an entire System of Elocuti(5ri, to furnish the
pupil with appropriate Exercises for the practical
application of these principles.
The Exercises are divided into two Parts. Part I.
consists of Exercises in Articulation, Pitch, Force,
Time, and Gesture. Part II. consists of Exercises in
Reading and Declamation.
PART I.
EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION, PITCH,
FORCE, TIME, AND GESTURE.
FIRST EXERCISE.
Table of the Elements of the English Language.
VOWELS. SUBVOWELS. ASPIRATES.
ALE BOW FAME
ARM DAY HUT
ALL GAY KITE
AN LIGHT PIT
EVE MIND SIN
END NO TIN
ILE SONG SHADE
IN ROLL THIN
OLD ORB WHAT
LOSE THEN
ON VILE VOWEL COMPOUNDS
TUBE WO OIL
UP YOKE AY
FULL ZONE BOY
OUR AZURE BUOY
This Exercise should be practised as follows : 1. Utter each ele-
ment with the falling inflection, the vowels with explosive force.
(167)
168
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
2. Utter each vowel and subvowel, alternately, with the rising 1 and
falling inflection. 3. Utter the vowels with the falling inflection,
alternately, in a high and low pitch. 4. Utter each vowel in the
medium pitch of the natural voice, then in the falsetto, and lastly,
in the lowest note of the natural voice. 5. Pronounce every word
under the head Subvoivels, as well as under the head Aspirates, in
the following manner: make a full inspiration, and dwell for two
or three seconds on tine initial element ; then utter the remainder
of the word with a sudden and forcible expulsion of the breath.*
SECOND EXERCISE.
In this Exercise, every vowel is preceded by every subvowel,
nnd by every aspirate.
iiii|eelll|666 |ddd|ou.
bi bi bi bi | be be | bl bl | b6 b6 b6 | bd bd bd | bou.
di
di di
di
|de
de |
dl
dl
d6 d6 d6 |
dd dd dd |
dou.
g^
ga gi
&
Igfe
&
|g*
gl
|g6
g6 g6
|gu
gd gd
|gou.
li
li li
li |
le
le |
11
li
1 1&
16 16
1 1"
Id Id ]
lou.
mi mi mi ma
mu md md | mou.
| me me
| ml ml
m6
m6 m6 |
ni
ni ni
ni
|nfe
ne|
nl
nl
j n6
n6 n6
| nd
nd mi
nou.
ri
ri ri
ri
re
re
| rl
rl
| r6
r6 r6
| rd
rd ru
| rou.
TJfH, TITct, THcl THcl 1 THC TUG 1 Till Till
THd THd THU j THOU.
TH6
TH6 TH6 j
vi
vi vi
vi
| ve
ve \
vl
vl |
v6 v6 v6 |
vu vd vd
vou.
wi
wa wi
wa
j w
we
wl
wl
| w6 w6 w6
wu wd wu j
wou.
yi
yi yi
yi
|ye
ye|
yi
yi
|y6
y6 y6
yd
yd yd
you.
4i
4i 4i
4i
4e
4e |
41
41
| 46
46 46
| 4d
4d 4u
| 4ou.
2i
2i 4i
2i
4e
4e|
41
21
26
46 26
ad
2d 2u
2ou.
fa
fi'fi fa |
fe
fe |
fl
fl
1 f6
f6 f6
fd
fd fu
fou.
hi
hi hi
hi
| he
he- |
hi
hi
| h6
h6 h6
hd
hd hd
hou.
ki
ki ki
ki
|ke
ke
kl
kl
| k6
k6 k6
kd
kd kd
kou.
pi
pi pi
pi
|pe
pe|
Pi
Pi
1 Pi
p6 p6
pu
pd pu
pou.
si
si si
si
se
s
si
si
| s6
s6 s6
|sd
sd su
sou.
* As song and orb do not begin with a subvowel, they should
be omitted in this exercise. And as it is impossible to dwell on the
aspirate, A, the word hut may also be omitted.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 169
shi shi shi shi | she she | shl shi | sh6 sho shd j
shii shu shu | shou.
ti ti ti ti | te te | tl tl | t6 td t6 | tu tu tu | ton.
Mi Mi Mi Mi | Me Me | Mi Mi | M6 Md M6 |
Mil Mi Mu | Mou.
whi wha whi whi | whe whe | whl whi | whd wh6 wh6 j
whu whu whu | whou.
THIRD EXERCISE.
The object of this Exercise is to bring into proper play the
muscles of the lips, and enable the pupil to pronounce with facility,
v, w, and wh, in certain situations, and to distinguish between them,
wi - vi vi - wi 6v - wi wi - whi
Wi
-vi
vi -
wi
dv -
wi
wi -
whi
wi
-vi
vi -
wi
dv -
wi
wi -
whi
wi
-vi
vi -
wi
dv -
wi
wi -
whi
we
-ve
v -
we
dv-
we
we -
whe
we
-ve
ve -
we
dv -
we
we -
whe
wi
-vi
vi -
wi
dv -
wl
wi -
whl
wi
-vi
vi -
wi
dv
wi
wi -
whl
wd
-vd
vd -
wd
dv -
wd
wd -
whd
wd
-vd
vd -
wd
dv -
wd
wd -
whd
wd
-vd
vd -
wd
dv -
wd
wd -
whd
wu
-vu
vi -
wi
dv -
wi *
wi -
whi
wu
-vu
vi -
wi
dv -
wi
wi -
whi
wu
-vu
vi -
wi
dv -
wi
wi -
whi
wou-vou
vou -
wou
dv -
wou
wou-
whou
FOURTH
EXERCISE
.*
di
-gi
ti -
ki
THi
- 4i
Mi -
si
di
-ga
ti -
ki
THi
- ii
Mi -
si
da
-ga
ti -
ki
THi
- ii
Mi -
si
di
- ffi
ti -
ki
THi
- ii
Mi -
si
de
- g^
te -
k6
THe
- ie
Me -
se
de
* g e
te -
ke
THC
- ie
Me -
se
di
gi
ti -
kl
THi
- il
Mi -
si
dl
gi
ti -
ki
THi
- 41
Ml -
si
dd
-go
td -
kd
THd
- id
Md -
sd
dd
-go
td -
kd
THd
- id
Md -
sd
dd
-go
td -
kd
THd
- id
Md -
sd
du
-gu
ti -
ki
THi
- ii
Mi -
si
du
-gu
ti -
ki
THi
- ii
Mi -
si
du
-gu
ti -
ku
THi
- ii
Mi -
si
dou
- gou
tou -
kou
THOU
- iou
Mou -
sou
* The design of this exercise is to bring into proper action the
15
170
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
FIFTH EXERCISE.
The object of this Exercise is to enable the pupil to utter per-
fectly the subvowels and aspirates, when they are the final elements
of words.
ab eb ib ob ub
ad ed id od ud
ag eg ig og ug
al el il ol ul
am em im om urn
an en in on un
ang eng mg ong ung
ar er ir or ur
aTH CTH iTH OTH UTH
av ev iv ov uv
ai ei ii ob ui
a e2 12 o2 u4
af ef if of uf
ak ek ik ok uk
ap ep ip op up
ash esh ish osh ush
at et it ot ut
nth eth ith oth uth
N, and NG, contrasted,
an, ang; en, eng; in, ing; on, ong; un, ung.
SIXTH EXERCISE.
This Exercise exhibits the analysis of words in which there are
easy combinations of elements. In the first column the words are
presented as they are usually spelled ; in the second, their elements
are separated by hyphens. The pupil should spell the words, ut-
tering, separately, each element, and not the name of the letter, as
is generally done in the schools.
ale
a-1
end
-n-d
dav
d-i
savs
.. s-e-i
d-2-a-n
said
s-fc-d
arm . . .
a-r-ni
isle
1.1
baa
b-a
cart ...
k-a-r-t
ink
. i-nff-k
all
4-1
oak
.... Lk
law
1-a
.... b-6
orb
a-r-b
lose ....
1.6-i
awe
i
d-i-6-n
morn
m-a-r-n
few
f. U
muscles which move the tip, and root of the tongue, and to contrast
the elements, d and g, and t and A;, which, by children, are some-
times confounded. The want of entire command of the muscles of
the tongue and lips, is the reason why some persons speak thick, as
it is called. A part of this Exercise is adapted to the case of lispers,
those who substitute the subvowel TH for i ; and the aspirate J&,
for*.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
171
add .
lamb
eve .
pea.,
key .
field ,
people
1-a-m
view v-a
suit s-u-t
feud f-u-d
her h-u-r
sir s-u-r
wolf w-u-l-f
now . . . n-ou
SEVENTH EXERCISE.
This Exercise exhibits the analysis of words in which there are
difficult combinations of elements,
worlds w-u-r-1-d-i
tracts t-r-a-k-t-s
friendship f-r-e-n-d-sh-i-p
attempts eUt-t--m-p-t-s
exhausts e-g-2-h-a-s-t-s
precepts p-r-e-s-e-p-t-s
themselves TH-e-m-s--l-v-z
suspects s-u-s-p-e-k-t-s
resolves r-e-i-6-l-v-i
exists
thousands
thousandth
objects 6-b-d-2--k-t-s
EIGHTH EXERCISE.
This is an Exercise in Pitch. The first four notes, counting
from below, belong to the natural voice ; the fifth, to the falsetto.
The pupil should pronounce the letters, a, e, i, a, in the ascending
and descending order of the scale, and with the rising and falling
inflection, as represented by the notes. He should then, in like
manner, pronounce each vowel element ascending and descend-
ing, as before.
Diag. 2.
6
months
m-ft-n-JA-s
rhythm
T-l-th-m
twists
t-w-i-s-t-s
breadths
b-r-k-d-th-s
tasks
t-&-s-k-s
acts
&-k-t-s
shrinks
sh-r-1-ng-k-s
hands
h-a-n-d-i
mists
m-i-s-t-s
truths
l-r-u-th-8
baths
b-i-TH-i
paths
p-a-TH-i
sixths
s-1-k-s-th-s
-a-a-
-a-a-
i r
-v u
u u
mi. jnesiuem,
-e-e-
-i-i-
-6-6-
-U-U-
Mr. President,
P-P-
-i-i-
-6-6-
-U-U-
Mr. President,
^ I/
-e-e-
-i-i-
-6-6-
-u-d-
Mr. President,
-e-e-
-i-i-
-6-6-
-u-u-
Mr. President,
172
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
NINTH EXERCISE.
The pupil should pronounce all the vowels, which admit of long
quantity, alternately with the rising and falling inflection, through
various intervals of pitch, as shown by the Diagram.
Diag. 22.
ill
4? 4.
41 4.
4? 4.
fcl 6.
I? i.
6? 6.
6! 6.
ul u.
41 4.
41 4.
1 1 1.
6? 6.
6? 6.
i? u.
ou? ou.
41 4. 41 4. 41 4. 41 '4.
41 4. 41 4. 41 4. 41 4.
41 4. 41 4. 41 4. 41 4.
61 6. 61 6. 61 6. 61 6.
il 1. 111. 11 1. 11 1.
61 6. 61 6. 61 6. 61 6.
61 6. 61 6. 6? 6. 6? 6.
ul u. ul u. ul u. ul u.
ou 1 ou. ou 1 ou. ou 1 ou. ou 1 ou.
TENTH EXERCISE.
EMPHASIS MELODIES.
Diag. 23.
Diag. 24.
V
A
f
V
m
field, house, temple. thunder, battle, heaven,
A storm of universal fire, blasted every field*, con-
sumed every house', and destroyed every tem x ple.
Then shook the hills with thunder riv'n,
Then rush'd the steed to battle driv'n,
And louder than the bolts of heaven,
Far flash'd the red artiMery.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 173
Diag. 25. Diag. 26.
?
V
) 1
a
tower, shine, glad, terrible, man, woman, child, beast.
Ye are the things that tow v er, that shinev, whose
smile makes glad', whose frown is terrible.
They did not see one manv, not one wo^man, not one
child x , not one four-footed beast', of any description
whatever.
Diag. 27. Diag. 28.
(J)
V
V
v
A
A _
exulting, trembling, raging, fainting, disturbed, delighted, raised, refined.
Exulting, trembling, ra ging, faint ing,
Possess'd beyond the Muse's painting.
By turns they felt the glowing mind,
Disturb'dv, delight'ed, rais'ds refin'd x .
Diag. 29.
fl
f,
V
A
1
A
V
m
seasonless, herblesa, treeless, manless, lifeless, death, clay.
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Sea x sonless, herbJess, treeless, man'less, li
A lump of deatb a chaos of hard clay x .
Diag. 30.
poor, rich, abject, august, complicate, wonderful.
15*
174 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
How poon, how rich x , how abject, how august*
How complicate, how won v derful is man !
Diag.31.
time, wrong, contumely, love, delay, office, spume,
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time x ,
The oppressor's wrongv, the proud man's contumely,
The pang of despised love v , the law's delays
The insolence of office, and the spurns/
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bod\kin 1
INTERROGATIVE SENTENCES.
There is nothing peculiar in the melody of interrogative sentences,
when they are pronounced with the falling inflection ; but, when
they are pronounced with the rising inflection, they are character-
ized as follows:
When a question is asked simply for information, and there is
but one emphatic syllable in it, this syllable rises concretely from
the pitch-note line, through the interval of a third, or fifth (or there-
abouts), according to the degree of energy with which the sentence
is pronounced. And the syllables which follow the interrogative
note (if I may so call it), are pronounced in the pitch of the upper
extreme of this note, thus :
Diag. 32.
A
- w-
m
A
With
you,
and
quit
my
Su
- san's side 1
When
)effins a (3
a question
esrree belo\
is asked
v the pitc
with
h-not
surprise,
e, and ris(
the interrogative not
js, concretely, about
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
4
A
33.
4
A 4
A
4.
With you ! and quit my Su - san's side.
renounced w
iclody would
Diag. 34.
Should Susan's also be pronounced with emphatic force, but with
less energy than you, the melody would be as follows:
I 4
A
A
v v
A I *
! 1
With you! and quit my Su - san's side!
Susan's, be
Diag. 35.
Should side, instead of Susan's, be made emphatic, the melody
would be thus :
i
4
A
A
A
t 1
4
1
9
V 1
1
-1
With you ! and quit my Su - san's side !
And should you, Susan's, and side, be all pronounced with empha-
tic force, the melody wonld be as follows :
Diag. 36.
I
With you! and quit my Su - san's side!
is apt to be
ir, be read U
Diag. 37.
The following- sentence is apt to be read to the melody of dia-
gram 33 ; it should, however, be read to that of Diagram 37.
A
-A .
4
A 4
A
With you! the hap - less bus - band cried,
176
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
The phrase, " the hapless husband cried" is not a part of the
interrogation, but is parenthetical, and should be read one degree
lower than the pitch-note.
ELEVENTH EXERCISE.
FORCE.
The pupil should utter all the vowel sounds with the rising and
falling inflection, in each of the nine degrees offeree. He should
then read, or recite, some passage in each of these degrees, begin-
ning as soft as possible, thus :
ppp
Diag. 38.
PP
4
mp
6
m/
I a a
I
a a
J=
s*
a a
a a
.2
a a
a a
a a
.2
I
TWELFTH EXERCISE.
MODULATION.
There are many persons who do not vary the pitch and force of
their voices according to the varying demands of sentiment. They
read every thing alike ; and they do not appear capable of imitating
a correct manner of speaking. In such cases, I have found it ne-
cessary, in order to break up established habits, and direct the voice,
as it were, into a new channel, to institute exercises in which the
pitch and force of the voice are varied in the wildest and most ex-
travagant manner. For instance, I select some piece, and divide it
into sections. The first of these sections I pronounce in the falsetto
voice, and request the pupil, or, what is better, the whole class, to
pronounce it in like manner; the second section I pronounce in the
jowest note of the natural voice, and it is immediately repeated by
the class ; the third, in the highest note of the natural voice ; the
fourth in a whisper ; the fifth, in the medium pitch of the natural
voice; and so on. After exercising awhile in this manner, the
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
177
pupil is able to appreciate smaller intervals of pitch ; and the voices
of the whole class are ultimately brought into the same key, as is
done in singing. The following is an exercise of the kind to which
I allude.
Falsetto.
My brave associates,
Lowest note of the natural voice.
partners of my toil, |
Highest note of n.v. Whispering voice. Medium note of natural voice
my feelings, | and my fame ! | can Holla's words |
Highest note n. v. Lowest note of the natural voice. Falsetto.
add vigour | to the virtuous energies | which inspire
Lowest note.
your hearts? | No!
THIRTEENTH EXERCISE.
TREMOUR.
The pupil should pronounce all the vowels which admit of long
quantity, with a tremulous movement of the voice, as shown by the
following diagram :
Diag. 39.
(
|
I
i !
4 > 1 k i i
The vowels, &., &, &, 1, 6, 6, u, and ou, should be pronounced in
the same manner.
The accented syllable of the words printed in italics, in the fol-
lowing passages, may be pronounced with the tremour.
That wash thy hallow'd feet, and warbling flow.
Greece nurtured in her glory 9 s time.
And the complaining brooks, that make the meadows
green.
The tremour heightens the expression, even of opponent passions,
as j ' nd sorrow. It may be occasionally introduced with great
effect, v -oth in song and speech, as well as in instrumental music.
M
178
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
FOURTEENTH EXERCISE.
TIME AND GESTURE.
A rhythmical ear is essential to the public speaker who would
gesticulate with gracefulness, precision and effect. The subject of
time, therefore, should claim his particular attention. Those who
have not a rhythmical ear, may acquire one, by practising faithfully
the following progressive Exercises :
1. Raise the arms, with the hands clinched, to the position ele-
vated forwards (Beef} , and then bring them down, with great force,
to the position downwards forwards (Bcdf^on the energetic utter-
ance of each of the elements of speech.
2. Clinch the hands, then retract one arm, and project the other,
alternately, horizontal forwards, on each of the elements.
3. Clinch the hands, and make a beat, horizontal forwards, on
the first element ; strike the palms of the hands together on the
second; with the hands clinched, make a beat horizontal forwards
on the third ; strike the palms of the hands together on the fourth ;
and so on.
4. Beat time on the elements with the dumb-bells. Make the
first beat by bringing the bells in contact, horizontal forwards ; the
second, by bringing them in contact elevated forwards ; the third,
by bringing them in contact downwards forwards ; the fourth, by
bringing them in contact downwards backwards, thus :
Diag. 40.
METHOD OF BEATING TIME WITH THE DUMB-BELLS.*
* Dumb-bells are commonly made of lead. Those
used in the author's Vocal Gymnasium are turned
out of lignum vitce. They are one foot long, and
four inches in diameter. (See the cuts in the
margin.)
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 179
. 6. Mark the time by inarching. The class should march, in file,
on a line, in the form of the figure eight (8), and pronounce, after
the teacher, an element at every step. Should the class be large,
two columns may be formed, which should march in opposite direc-
tions. Meanwhile, two, or more tmpils, standing oat from the class,
may keep time with the dumb-bells.
SYLLABLE RHYTHM.
6. When the pupil cannot mark the rhythm of poetry, he should
first beat time on every syllable, in either, or in all, of the ways
which have been described.
| | I r | am r- I mon- <~ | arch p. | of r- I all r* j I r- I
sur- r* | vey r- | my r* | right r* | there r* | is r I
noner- | to r | dis- * | pute r | fromn* | the r- |
cen- c* | tre r* | all r | round r- | to r- \ the r- | sea r- |
I r- | am r- j lord p. | of r- | the r- | fowl r* | and r |
the r* brute r~ &c.
, POETRY .RHYTHM.
7. The rhythm of poetry should be marked by a beat on the ac-
cented part of the measure, which, in the following examples, is the
first syllable after each vertical bar.
Lines supposed to have been written by Alexander Sel-
kirk, during his solitary abode on the Island of Juan
Fernandez.
(COWPER.)
I am | monarch of | all I sur- | veys
My | right there is | none to dis- | pute* ;
From the | centre all | round to the | sea',
I am | lord of the | fowl and the | brute .
| solitude! | where are the | charms
That | sages have | seen in thy | face*?
Better | dwell in the | midst of a- | larms 1 ,
Than | reign in this | liorniblc | place'.
1 nm | out of hu- | inanity's | rcaclr;
I must | finish my j journey a- J lone* ;
Never | hear the sweet | music ot | speech',
I start at the | sound of my | own,.
180 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
The | beasts that roam | over the | plain', *
My | form with in- j dirferencel see*:
They are | so unac- | quainted with | man',
Their | tameness is | shocking to | me % .
So- | ciety, | friendship, and | love*,
Di- | ym*ely be- | stow'd upon | mm,
O I had I the | wings of a | aove',
How | soon would I'j taste you a- | gainj
My | sorrows I | then might as- | suage
In the | ways of re- | ligion and | truth* ;
Might | learn from the | wisdom of (.age*,
And be | cheer'd by the | sallies of | youth,
Re- | Irgion! what | treasure un- | told', - *
Re- I sides in that I heavenly I word v I
' * . "
More | precious than | silver or | gold',
Or | all that this | earth can at- | ford % .
But the | sound of the | church-going I bell',
These | valleys and | rocks, never | neard*;
Ne'er | sigh'd at the | sound of a | knell',
Or | smil'd when a | sabbath ap- | pear'd % .
Ye | winds that have | made n%* your | sport',
Con- | vey to this I desolate | shore/,
Some | cordial en- | clearing re- | port',
Of a | land I shall | visit no | more % .
My | friends* do they | now and then | send
A | wish or a | thought after | me'?
O | tell me I | yet have* a | friend,
Though a | friend I am | never to | see r
How | fleet is a | glance of the | mind* 1
Com | par'd with the | speed of its | flight',
The | tempest it- | self lags be- | hind',
And the | swift-winged | arrows of | light.
When I | think of my | own native | land',
In a 1 moment I | seem to be | there*;
But, a- I las ! rccol- | lection at | hand',
Soon | hurries me | back to de- | spair .
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 181
But the | sea-fowl is I gone to her | nest*;
The I beast is laid (down in his | lain ;
Even I here is a | season of | rest',
Ana | I to my | cabin re- | pair % .
There's | mercy, in I every | place;
And | mercy en- [ couraging | thought 1 1
Gives | even af- | fliction a | grace*,.
And | reconciles | man to his | lot,.
THE ROSE.
(OOWPBK.)
The | rose had been | washes jus* | washVf in a | shower,
Which I Mary to I Anna con- | vey 9 d* ;
The | plentiful | moisture en- ! cumberW the | floWer,
And | weighV/ down | its beautiful | hea/^.
The 1 cup was all I fillW, and the I leaves were all | weA;
And it I seemV, to a"| fanciful | view,
To i weep for the | buds it had j left with re- 1 gref,
On the | flourishing | bush where it \ grew.
1 1 hastily I seiz'd* it, un- 1 fit as it | was,
For a I nosegay, so j dripping, and \ drownW*,
And | swinging it | rudely, too T rudely, a- 1 las 1
1 1 snapp'd* it it | fell to the | groun<f % .
And | such, I ex- | claimV, is the I pitiless | part',
Some, 1 ac by the I delicate | mind\
Re- ! gardless of | wringing, and \ breaking a | heart',
Al- 1 ready to I sorrow re- 1 signV % .
This | elegant 1 rose, had 1 1 shaken it | less,
Mighi have I bloom 'd with its | ow'ner a- | while ;
And the I tear, that is | wipVZ with a | little ad- 1 dress',
May be | follow'^ t per- 1 haps, by a j smile % .
R Accompany the pronunciation of the elements with gesture.
In the following series of figures, there are two periods of gesture.
The first gesture should be made during the pronunciation of the
four sounds of a ; the second, during the pronunciation of the two
sounds of c; and so on. The whole of the SECOND EXERCISE (p.
168), should be practised in this way. The stroke of the gesture
should be made on the last element in each group.
10
183 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION,
ruuerr PERIOD.*
96
&,&,&,&;
f pkx
4,6;
JH
100
r Jl
1,1;
* These two periods of gesture are intended as examples; others
may be supplied by the teacher, as occasion shall require. Every
variety of action should be practised, in .connexion with the ele-
mentary exercises of the voice; and the pupil should be careful to
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 183
BlBuONl> PERIOD.
rLlr
mark the stroke of the gesture with precision. These exercises
are introductory to declamation. They should be practised in the
most energetic manner, and be persevered in till the muscles of the
trunk and limbs act harmoniously with those of the voice.
184 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
'FIFTEENTH EXERCISE.
PRONUNCIATION.
The article a should have the sound of a in an, thus He was
A. man; not & man. When, however, this article is emphatic
(which is seldom the case), it should have the sound of a in ale,
thus Did you say a man, or the man 1
When the article the precedes a word beginning with a vowel, it
should be pronounced the ; when it precedes a word beginning with
a consonant, it should be pronounced the, thus The arts and th6
sciences. But, when the precedes a word beginning with a conso-
nant, and is emphatic, it should be pronounced the, thus Did you
say a man or the man T
The pronoun my, when emphatic, is pronounced mi ; when not
emphatic, it is generally pronounced me. Sometimes the perspi-
cuity of a sentence requires mv to be pronounced ml, when this ,
pronoun is not emphatic, as in the following example : /
" And the pale stars shall be at night, f
The only eyes that watch my rite."
Should my, in the above example, be pronounced me, by a public
speaker, the auditors might suppose the meaning of the passage to
be as follows :
And the pale stars shall be at night,
The only eyes that watch me right.
Euphony sometimes requires my, when not emphatic, to be pro-
nounced mi. The following passages are example**
" My brave associates." " Hear me for my cause." ** When it
shall please my country to need my death."
Mine should always be pronounced mine, not mean; by should
always be pronounced bl, not bee ; to should be pronounced t6, not
tu ; of should be pronounced 6v, not uv ; and from should be pro-
nounced fr6m, not frum.
The pronunciation of many other words, liable to be pronounced
wrong, is given in the foot-notes under the EXERCISES IN READING
AND DECLAMATION.
SIXTEENTH EXERCISE.
DECLAMATION.
Before the student attempts to declaim, he should learn to stand
erect ; to hold his book in a proper manner, and to read correctly.
He should then select some short piece, and learn a set of gestures
for its illustration by practising them in pantomime, after the
teacher. Lastly, he should learn to combine the words and ges-
tures, by repeating them together, after the teacher.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 186
;OD OF TEACHING DECLAMATION. (ZJiOg'. 41.)
SPEECH OF SATAN TO HIS LEGIONS.
16
vl pki
Princes,
Bnu,
potentates,
186
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION*
Btdq
\varriors,
Bvtq
the flower of heaven,, ]
/.: *once yours, |
i
vdq vde
now lost,
m
if such astonishment
ns this
Kl
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION
187
can seize
eternal spirits: |
or have yc chosen this
place, after the toil of
battle,|
to rejK)se your weary
virtue, I for the case you
find to slumber here, I
188
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION
V dc vdq
as in the vales of heaven 1 Or in this abject posture
vcq-phx
have you sworn to adore
L2
the Conqueror? |
B veq
who now beholds cherub
and seraph |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
189
scattered arms and en- from heaven gates,
signs, | till anon, his j * l
swift pursuers, |
190
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION
Bveq
discern the advantage,
R3
and descending, |
Btdq
tread us down, thus
drooping, |
\
eef cdx
or, with linked thunder-
bolts, I
cdb
transfix us to the bot-
tom of this gulf, j
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 191
Awake, |
\
Btdq
or be for ever
192
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION,
THE MISER AND PLUTUS.
R Brkfr f
The wind was high | the window shakes'; |
with sudden start the
Ms
miser wakes ! I
pile ad-
% AUng the silent ream
he stalks ; |
M
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
193
B vkx-rkqc
Looks back, |
Bvkftr
and trembles as
Rlx
he walks! I
Each lock, | and ev'ry
bolt he tries, I
M
17
and corner, pries ; j
aff2
194
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
144
145
B,eq
Then opes his chest, | And stands in rapture /
with treasure stor'd, | o'er his hoard : |
146
But now with sudden He wrings his hands ; |
Bvhfc
qualms possest,
rR\
Idbr
he beats his breast |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
105
By conscience stung, |
lie wildly stares ; |
Btkfik
And thus his guilty
soul declares : I
Btdfd-
Had thfc deep earth
This heart had known
m
her stores confin'd, | sweet peace of mind; |
196
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
153
But virtue's seldl I
gds !- 1 what pri
JB
rice
Can recompense the
Btdfd
O bane of good 1 I
rRl
FR
pangs of vice ?
seducing cheat 1
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
197
i
Can man, | weak man, | thy power deieat ( |
158
teb no tdq
Gold banishM honour
rLl
from the mind, |
17*
And only left the
br R
name behind ; |
108
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
160
Gold sow'd the
world with ev'ry ill ; |
Gold taught the
cebtk edq
murderer's sword to kill : j
Liz
/
162 1G3
'T was gold instructed In treach'ry's more
coward hearts | pernicious arts. 1
rRl
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
109
Who can recount
a
eq tdq
the mischiefs o'er? |
Virtue resides on
Bpjfd
earth no more ! |
EXPLANATION
OF THE CHARACTERS USED IN THE EXERCISES IN READING
AND DECLAMATION.
( | ) A vertical bar, employed to divide each paragraph into sec-
tions of a convenient length for concert reading. [See tlic PRE-
FACE.]
d) A separation mark. It signifies that the words between
which it is placed, should not coalesce.
(M) A rest. Where this character is employed there should be
a slight suspension of the voice.
(-) A hold. The vowels over which this character is placed,
should have an unusual prolongation.
(o)' A pause, called also a suspending pause. When placed over
a rest, it signifies that this rest should have two or three times' its
usual length. It is called a suspending pause, because it keeps
the mind of the hearer in suspense. [See an example on page 221,
seventh line from the bottom.]
( /x / " ' ) Acute ntid grave accents. They are employed to
represent the rining and fulling inflections, and also the emphasis
melodies. [See page 48 and 54.]
(*) Acuto-grave accent, or acuto-grave circumflex. [Sec p. 48.]
(") Gravo-acute accent, or gravo-acute circumflex. [Sec p. 48. J
(tr) Irony. The passage to which these letters arc prefixed, is
ironical.
(r;>) Reproach. When those letters nrc prefixed to a passage,
it contains the language of reproach.
(wh) Whisper. The passage to which these letters nrc prefixed,
should be whimpered.
(1, 2, 3, 4) These numbers represent the degrees of modulation.
[See p. 57.]
The italic letters represent sounds which arc liable to be omitted,
or imperfectly articulated. When all the letters in a word arc
italic, the word is emphatic. The emphatic words, however, are
seldom, in this work, marked by italic letters.
In designating the pronunciation of words, in the foot-notes, I
have used the letters which, on page 19, and 20, represent the ele-
ments of the English language. No superfluous letters arc em-
ployed, as is done by lexicographers. The pronunciation of each
word is determjned by the letters which represent the sounds of
which it is composed, and by the situation of the accent.
(*)
PART II.
" *
EXERCISES IN READING AND DECLA
MATION.
SPEECH OF SATAN TO HIS LEGIONS.
(MILTON.)
Narrative,
He scarce had ceas'd, | when the superior fiend I
Was moving tow'rd the shore* ; | his ponderous shield, I
Etherial temper, mas'sy, large', and round', \
Behind him cas* v ; I the broad circumference* |
Hung on his shoulders liAc the moon* | \vhosc orb
Through optic glass I the Tuscan artist views
At evening | from the top of Fes'o-le, I
Or in Valdarno, c l to descry new lands', |
Riv'ers, or mount*ains, d |in Aer spotty globe t . 1
His spear' I (to equal which | the tallest pine, I
ITcvvn on Norwegian hills, I to be the mas*
Of some grca* amiral, B jwere but a wand') |
He walk'd* with, | to support uneasy steps |
Over the burning marL, | (no* like those steps
On heaven's a'zure ! f ) | and the torrid clime |
Smote on Aim sore besides*, j vaulted with fire t : |
Nathless* he so endur'd, | till on the beach
Of tha* inflamed sea he stood, I and call'd
His le'gions, | angel-forms | who lay entranced |
Ser-kftn/ffc-rens. fc Gallilco. He was born at Florence, the
capital of Tuscany, in Italy. Valdarno, Vdllc'di Arno (Italian),
the vale of the Arno, a delightful valley in Tuscany. a Moun'tlnz.
Am'i-ral (French), admiral ' A'iur. * N&UY16s.
(201)
202 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Thicfc as autumnal 11 leaves j that strow the brooks
In Vallombro'sa b j where the Etrurian shades, |
High over-arch'd, imbow'n ; j x>r scatter'd sedge,
Afloat, | when with fierce winds, I Orion," arm'd, |
Hath vex'd the Red-Sea coast | whose waves overthrew
Busiris, d |and Ais Memplu'an 6 chiv'alry/ j
While with perfidious* hatred | they pursu'd
The sojourners h of Go* shen, I who beheld
From the safe shore, I their floating carcasses, |
And broken chariot wheels : | so tnicfc bestrown, |
Abject, and lost, | lay these,, | covering the flood, |
Under amazement' 1 of their hideous j change^. |
He call'd so loud, I that all the hollow deeo
Ofhellresound,ed/|
Speech
^Priaces, | po'tehta^s, |.
War x riors, k l the flow'r of heaven,! onceyoufss InowlosA, 1
If such astonishment 1 as this' | can seize. |.
Eternal spinits : | tV or have ye chosen this place, |
After the toil of battle, | to repose
Your wearied virtue, | for the ease you find
To slunvber here, | as in the vales of heaven ? |
Or, in this abject posture, | have ye sworn
To adore the Conq x 'ror ? | who now beholds
Cherufr, and seraph, | rolling in the flood |
With scattered arms, and en x signs ; | till anon |
His swift pursuers, | from heaven-gates | discern
The advantage, j and descending, I tread us downs |
Thus droopang ; I or, with linked thunderbolts, j
Transfix* us | to the bottom of this gulf. |
//7 AwaAe x 1 1 arise' ! | or be for ever fallen, 1 1
b Vallombrosa (ydlle, a vale; ombrdso, shady), a
shady valley in the Apennines, fifteen miles east of Florence.
Orl'on, a constellation, in the southern hemisphere. d Busi'ris,
Pharaoh. Memphian, from Memphis, ancient capital of Egypt
' Tshlv'al-rfc. P6r-nd'yfis. * SA'd4urn-6r4. A-mii'mtnt Hld'-
e-&8. kWAr'yiri. > As-t6n'l 8 h-ment.
not burholds. Dlz-z6rn'.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 203
OSSIAN'S ADDRESS TO THE SUN.
O thou thai rollesi above, I round as the shield of my
fathers ! | Whence are thy beams', O sun', I thy ever-
lasting HghA ? | Thou comesi forth in thy awful beau v ty; |
the stars hide themselves in the skyx; \ the moon, cold,
and pale', | sinks in the western wave*. | Bui thou thy-
self movesi alone* : | who can be a companion of thy
course x ? |
The oaks of the mountains a falb ; I the mountains
themselves' , decay with years* ; | the ocean shrinks,
and grows x again ; | the moon herself, 6 is lost in heaven ; j
but thou ari for ever the same v , I rejoicing in the bright-
ness of thy course*. I
1 When the world is dar& with tempests', | 2 when
thunder rolls, and lightning flies', 1 3 thou lookesi in thy
beauty from the clouds', 1 4 and laugh esi at the storiru |
2 Bui, to Ossian, thou lookesi in vain x ; | for he beholds
thy beams no more*, d | whether thy yellow hairs | flow
on the eastern clouds', | or thou tremblesi at the gates
of the wesi x . |
Bui thou ari perhaps like me' I for a season : |
thy years will have an end.. I Thou shali sleep in the
clouds', | careless of the voice of the morning. | 4 Ex-
ult\ then, O sun', | in the strength of thy youth v ! I 1 Age,
is dar/c, and unlovely: | 2 it is like the glimmering lighi
of the moon', | when , it shines through broken clouds'; |
and the misi is on the hills*, I the blasi of the north is
on the plain', | the traveller shrinks in the midsi of 7iis
jour v ney. |
TELL'S ADDRESS TO THE MOUNTAINS.
(KNOWLES.)
7/ Ye crags, and peaks', 6 | I'm with you once again* ; f j
I hold to you the hands you firsi' beheldi, |
Moun'tlnz. b Moon herself, not moo'-ner-self. c He , beholds
thy beams; not He'be holds thy beams. d Ossian was blind.
* Crags and peaks ; not cragz'n peaks, nor crags Ann Peaks. f Agn'.
204 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
To show they still are a free*. | Rethinks I b hear
A spirit in your echoes, anWer me, |
2 And bid your tenant welcome to his homes
Agairh ! c | O sa\cred forms, | how proud v - t you looA d ! |
How high you lift your heads into the sky' ! |
How huge. , you 6 are ! | how mighty, | and how free, ! |
Ye are the things thaUow'r |tha shine^ | whose smile
Makes glad' | whose frown is terrible I whose forms
Robed, or un x robed, | do all the impress wear |
Of awe divine v . | Ye guards of liberty, |
I 'm with you once again* ! c j-^I call to you |
With all my voice' ! 1 1 hold my hands to you I
To show they still are free* 1 1 rush to you I
As though I could embrace* you f ! |
BATTLE OF HOHENLINDEN.
(CAMPBELL.)
On Linden, 8 when the sun was low, |
All bloodless lay the untrodd'n snow\, |
And dar& as win'ter, was the flow' |
Of Iser h rolling rapidly. |
Bu Linden* saw another sigh, |
When the drum bea at dead of nighZv, I
Commanding fires of death* ( to light' \
The darkness of her scenery 1 . |
By torch, and trumpet fas* array 'd', \
Each horseman k drew his bat v tle blade ; |
And furious every charger neigh'd', |
To join the dreadful revelry. |
a Still , are; not stillar. b Methinks , I; not me-think'si.
Ag&n. d Proud , you look ; not prow'jew-look. Huge , you
are ; not hew'jew-are. t Embrace you ; not embra'shew. * Lin'
d&n ; not Lindun. b E'sftr. * S^n'fer-^; not sce'nury. J Trfimp'it.
k H^rs'mcin ; not hosmun.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 205
Then shook the hills with thunder riv'n ; |
Then rush'd the steed to bat'tfe driv'n ; |
And louder than the boks of heaven, |
Far flash'd the red artiMery a . I
And redder yer those fires shall glow |
On Linden's b hills of blood-stain'd snowv ; |
And darker yet, shall be the flow I
Of Iser rolling rap x idly. |
'Tis morn x , | but scarce yon lurid sun' ( I
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dum, |
Where furious Fran/c, and fiery Hun' |
Shout in their sulph'rous can v opy. I
The combat deepens I ff On, ye braves '
Who rush to glory, or the grave* ! 1
fff W&ve, Munich, d | all thy banners , wave' ! j
And charge with all thy chiv v alry e ! |
mp Few, few shall part where many mee^ ! |
The snow shall be their windxing-sheeZ, |
And every turf beneath f their fee*', |
Shall be M a soldier's sepulchre. I
SPEECH OF ROLLA TO THE PERUVIAN ARMY.
[From Kotzebue's Pizarro.]
(R. B. SHERIDAN.)
My brave associates ! I partners of my toil', | my
feel'ings, | and my famev ! | Can RollaV words add
vigour | to the virtuous* 1 energies 1 1 which inspire your
hearts' ? I No t ! | you have judged as L have, | the
foulness of the crafty plea 7 | by which these bold in-
vaders would deludev you. I Your generous spirit | has
compared as mine x has, | the motives | which, in a
war , li^e this', | can animate their minds, and ours v . j |
Artll'l&r-re. b Lln'd^n; not Lindun. c Kam'b^t. <i Mi'nlk.
e Tshlv'al-r. f Be-n^TH 7 . e R61'liii ; not Rolluz. Vfer'tshu-
fts. > En'fer-dzei. J And ours ; not Ann Dowerg.
18
*
206 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
They, by a strange frenzy driven, | fighZ for pc vv x er, '
for plun'der, | and extended ruta | We, for our coun-
try, | our al'tars, | and our homes x . | They follow an
adventurer | whom they fean, | and obey a power )
which they hate\. I We serve a monarcA 3 1 whom we
lovev | a God | whom we adore, ! \
Whene'er they move in an ; ger, b | desolation traces
their progress ; | where'er they pause in am'ity, c | af-
fliction mourns their friendship. | They boast | they
come but to improve our state', | enlarge our thoughts', j
and free us from the yoke of er.ror ! | Yes' d I they
will give enlightened freedom to our minds, | who are
themselves* ] the slaves of passion, | av'arice, | and
pride^. |
They offer us their protection. I Yes v d I such pro-
tection j as vultures give to lambs', | covering, and
devouring them ! | They call on us | to barter all of
good | we have inherited, and proved*, | for the despe-
rate chance of something bet\ter | which they prom -
ise. |
Be our plain answer 6 thisx : | The throne we honour |
is the people's choice | the laws we reverence 1 " | are
our brave fathers' legacy | the faith we follow ]
teaches us | to live in bonds of charity with all man-
kindv, | and die with hopes of bliss | beyond the grave v . j
Tell your invaders this' ; | and tell them too', | we seeA:
no x change ; | and least of all 1 , | such change as they v
would bring us. |
(BYRON.)
O thaZ the desert were my dwelFing-place, [
With one fair spirit for my minister, |
Tha I migh all forged the human race', j
And, hating no one, | love but only her x ! |
M6n'n^rk ; not monnuck. b Move in anger ; not mo-vin-nang'
grer. <= Pause in amity ; not paw-zin-nam'ity. d Yis. e Plain an-
swer; not plain-nan'swer. f RSv'^r-fens; not revurunce.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 207
Ye elements ! | in whose ennobling stir j
I feel myself exalted | can ye not |
Accord* me such a being 1 \ Do I err i
In deeming such inhabit ma*ny a spo? |
Though with them to converse, can rarely be our 1
There is a pleasure* in the pathless woods ,
There is a rap'ture on the lonely shore*, J
There is society, where none intrudes |
By the deep sea*, | and music in its roar x . |
I love not man the less, | but nature more*, |
From these, our interviews, | in which I steal |
From all I may be, | or have been before,, |
To mingle with the u'niverse, | and feel |
Wha I can ne'er express*, j jet cannot all conceal v . ]
Roll on', a | thou deep, and dar^-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 shad*ow of man's ravage, | save Ais own*, |
When, for a moment, | like a drop of rain', |
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan*, |
Without a grave*,| unknell'd*,| uncof fin'd,| and unknown .|
His steps are not upon thy paths*, | thy fields |
Are not a spoil for Aim*, j thou dost b arise, |
And shake Aim from' thee ; | the vile strength he wields J
For earth's destruction, | thou dost all despise*, |
Spurning Aim from thy bosom to the skies', |
And send'sZ Aim, | l shivering in thy playful spray, |
And howling to Ais gods', | 2 where haply lies |
His petty hope*, | in some near port, or bay*, c |
Then dashesZ Aim again d to earth' : | there let Aim lay v .|
Roll on; not roll-Ion'. b D&st. c Port, or bay; not Porter
Bay. d AgSn'.
208 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
The armaments which thunderstri&e the walls |
Of rock-built cit'ies, | bidding nations qua&e, |
And monarchs a tremble in their capatals, |
The oak leviathans whose huge ribs ma/ce |
Their clay-creator the vain title take \
Of lore? of thee', | and arbiter of war ; |
These are thy toys\, | and, as the snowy fla&e'. |
They melt into thy yest b of wavesv, | which mar, |
Ali&e, the Armada's pride, | or spoils of Trafalgar/ |
Thy shores are em'pires, | changed in all save thee x |
Assyraa,! Greece x ,| Rome',| Carthage,] wha are theyj |
Thy waters wasted them while they were free', |
And many a tyrant since v ; | their shores obey |
The stranger, slave', or sav v age; | their decay |
Has dri'd up realms to desserts : not so thou', j
Unchangeable, | save to thy wild waves' play v |
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow* |
Such as creation's dawn' beheld, | thou rollesZ now v . |
Thou glorious mir'ror, | l where the Almighty's form |
Glasses itself in tenrpesZs ; | 2 in all* time, |
Calm, or convuls'd x | in breeze', or gale' 1 , or storm*, |
Icing the pole', | or in the torrid clime, |
Dar/c-heavang; | boundless, |end'less, |and sublime\ |
The image of eternity | l the throne j
Of the Invisible; | 2 e'en from out thy slime* |
The monsters of the deep are made v ; | each zone |
Obeys^ thee ; I thou goesZ forth,ldread',l fath'omless, lalone^l
sp And I 7mve lov'd' thee, o'cean ! | and my joy |
Of youthful sports, j was on thy breast to be j
Borne, li&e thy bubbles, on v ward : | from a boy' |
I wanton'd with thy breakers : | they to me, |
Were a delight ; | and, if the freshening sea |
Made them a terror | 't was a pleading fear, |
For I was as iZ were a child' of thee, |
And trusted to thy billows, far, and near, |
And Jaid my hand upon thy mane' | as I do here x . |
a M6n'narks;notmon'nucks.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 209
APOSTROPHE TO THE QUEEN OF FRANCE.
(BURKE.)
It is now sixteen, or seventeen years*, | since I saw
the queen of France, | then the daiiphiness, | ai Ver-
sailles' ; | and surely, never lighted on this orb, | (which
she hardly seemed to touch) | a more delightful vis Jon. |
J saw her jusi above the horrzon, decorating, and
cheering the elevated sphere | she jusi began to move*
in | glittering like the morning star' | full of life', |
and splen'dour, | and joy x . | l Oh whai a revolution ! |
and whai a heari musi I have, ] to contemplate without
emotion, | thai elevation, | and thai fall x ! |
2 Little did I dreamy when she added titles of vene-
ration | to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, |
that she should ever be obliged | to carry the sharp an-
tidote againsi disgrace', | concealed in thai bo\som |
little did I dream | that I should have lived | to see such
disasters fallen upon her \ in a nation of gallani men x , J
in a nation of men of honour, | and of cavaliersv. | I
thoughi ten thousand swords musi have leaped from
their scabbards | to avenge even a look' | thai threatened
#er with insuli. | Bui the age of chivalry is gonev. |
That of soplristers, | economists, | and calculators, | has
succeeded; | and the glory of Europe n { is extinguished
for ev x er. |
Never, never more, | shall we behold thai generous
loyalty to ran& and sexv, | thai proud submission, |
thai dignified obedience, j thai subordination of the
heari' | which kept alive, | even in servitude itself, | the
spirii of an exalted free*dom. | The unboughi grace of
lifev, | the cheap defence of nations, | the nurse of manly
sentimeni, | and heroic enterprise, | is gone\ ! | It is
gone, | thai sensibility of principle, | thai chastity
of hon'our, | which feli a stain Me a woundv, j which
inspired courage | whilsi ii mitigated fero'city, |
which enno'bled whatever ii touched; | and under
which, | vice itself | losi half its evil, | by losing all its
grossxness. | o
18*
210 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
BATTLE OF WARSAW.
(CAMPBELL.)
O sacred Truth ! | thy triumph ceas'd v awhile, J
And Hope, thy sister, ceas'd with thee to smile v , |
When leagued Oppression pour'd to northern wars, ]
Her whisker'd pandours, a and her fierce hussars x , b |
Wav'd her dread standard to the breeze of morn, |
Peal'd her loud drum, | and twang'd ^er trumpet-horn ;j
Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van' |
Presaging wrath to Poland, and to man^ ! |
Warsaw's las* champion, from ^er height, survey'd, |
Wide o'er the fields,! a waste of ru'in laid |
O Heav'n ! he cried,|my bleeding country, save^ ! |
Is there no hand on high to shield the brave' 1 \
Wha* though destruction , sweej9 x these lovely plains |
Rise', fellow-men ! | our country ye* remains^ ! |
By thai dread name,! we wave the sword on high, |
And swear for her to live | with her to die ! |
He said | and on the rampart-heights, array'd |
His trusty war'riors, | few, but undismay'd^ ; |
Firm-paced, and slow, | a horrid front' they form ; |
Still as the breeze^, | but dreadful as the storm v ; |
Low, murmuring sounds along their banners fly, |
Revenge 7 , or death x , | the watchword, and reply x ; |
Then peal'd the notes, omnipotent to charnr, |
And the loud tocsm told their las* alarrn . j
In vain, alas ! | in vain, ye gallan* few ! |
From rank to ran/e, your volley'd thun'der flew : j
O bloodies* picture in the boo/c of Time x ! |
Sarma^tia fell, | unwept, | withou* a crime v ; |
Found no* a generous friend^ | a pitying foes |
Strength in her arms, | nor mercy in her \\ 7 o x !
a Pandour (French), Hungarian soldier. b Hfiz-z&r, one of the
Hungarian horsemen, so called from the shout they generally make,
at the first onset.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 211
Dropp'd from her nerveless grasp, the shatter'*/ spear, .
Clos'd her bright eye, | and curb'd her high career v : |
Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell |
And Freedom shriek'd, as Koscius'ko fell v ! |
The sun went down* ; | nor ceas'd the carnage there*, j
Tumultuous murder shook the midnight ain : |
On Prague's proud arch a | the fires of nrin glow, |
His blood-dy'd waters murmuring far below % : |
The storm prevails 1 , | the rampart yields away 1 , |
Bursts the wild cry of horror, and dismay* ! |
HarA: x ! | as the smouldering piles with thunder fall, |
A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call ! |
Earth shoo/c', ] red meteors flash'd along the sky, |
And conscious Nature shudder'd at the cry v ! |
Departed spirits of the mighty dead' ! |
Ye thai at Marathon, and Leuc*tra bled / |
Friends of the world'! | restore your swords to man*, |
Figh* in his sacred cause, I and lead the van, ! |
Ye for Sarmatia's tears of blood', atone*, |
And make her arm puissant as your own*, |
O ! once again to Freedom's cause returns |
Thou patriot Teir | thou Bruce of Ban v nockburn ! j
BATTLE OP WATERLOO.
(BYRON.)
There was a sound of revxelry by nigh** ; |
And Belgium's capital | had gather'd then |
Her beauty, and ^er chiv\alry; | and bright |
The lamps shone o'er fair women, and brave men x ; }
A thousand hearts beat hap'pily ; | and, when j
Music arose, with its voluptuous swell, |
Soft eyes b look'd love' | to eyes which spa&e again* ; |
And all vrejit merry as a mar'riage-bell |
'But hushJ|har&*!|a deep sound strikes like a rising knell' !|
* Proud arch ; not prow-darch'. b Soft eyes ; not sof-ties.
212 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Did ye not hear it? | No v ;| 'twas but the wind*, j
Or the car' rattling o'er the stony street |
On with the dance' ! | let joy be unconfin'd x ; |
No sleep till morn', | when Youth, and Pleasure meet |
To chase the glowing hours, with flying fee^ |
"But hark' ! | that heavy sound breaks in once more x , |
As if the clouds its echo would repeal ; |
And nearer, | clearer, j deadlier than before ! |
Arar ! | arm' ! it isx | it is x the cannon's opening roar. ! |
Within a window'd niche of thaZ high hall, |
Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain ; | he did hear |
That sound the firs^, amidst the festival, |
And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ean; |
And, when they smil'd,] because he deem'd it near, |
His heart more truly knew thai peal too welb, |
Which stretch'd Ais father on a bloody bier, |
And rous'd the vengeance, blood alone could quell : |
He rush'd into the fields | and foremost fighting, fell v . j
Ah! then, and there was hurrying to, and fro, |
And gathering tears, | and tremblings of distress', |
And cheeks all pale x , | which but an hour ago, j
Blush'd at the praise of their own loveJiness. |
And there were sudden parsings, | such as press |
The life from out young hears v , j and choking sighs x |
Which ne'er might be repeated ; | who could guess j
If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, |
Since upon nigh so swee | such awful morn could risej
And there was mounting in hot haste v : | the steed, |
The mustering squadron, land the clattering car, |
Wen^ pouring forward with impetuous speed x , |
And swiftly forming in the ranks of wan ; |
And the deep thunder peal on peal afar 1 ! j
And near | the bea of the alarming drum* |
Rous'd up the soldier ere the morning star' ; |
While throng'd the citizens with terror dumbv, j
Or whispering, with white lips, [**" The foe\' | They
come x ! | they come' !" % |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 213
1 And wild and high the " Cameron's gathering" rose^! |
2 The war-note of Lochiel', | which Albyn's hills |
Have heardx,| and heard too, have her Saxon foes x : ]
How in the noon of nighi thai pibroch thrills, |
Savage, and shrill ! | Bui with the breath which fills[
Their mountain-pipe, | so fill the mountaineers', |
With the fierce native daring | which instils |
The stirring memory of a thousand years. ; |
And Ev x an's,|Don'ald's fame, | rings in each clansman's
ears v ! |
And Ardennes waves above them Aer green leaves', |
Dewy with nature's tear-drops, | as they pass v , |
Grieving, if aughi inanimate e'er grieves, |
O'er the unreturning brave v , ) alas ! |
Ere evening to be trodden like the grass* , |
Which now beneath' them, | but above shall grow, |
In its nexi x verdure, | when this fiery mass |
Of living valour, | rolling on the foe, |
And burning w ith high hope, | shall moulder cold, and low t . |
Lasi noon beheld them full of lusty life' ; |
Lasi eve, in Beauty's circle proudly gay v ; |
The midnight brought the signal sound of strife* ; |
The morn,|the marshalling in arms', | the day, |
Battle's magnificently-stern arrayv ! |
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, \ which when rent, \
The earth is cover'd thicA; with other clay |
Which her own clay shall cover, | heap'd and peni\, |
Rider, and horse v , | friend*, | foe', | in one red
burial bleni v ! |
MARCO BOZZARIS. a
(HALLECK.)
At midnight, in his guarded tent, \
The Turk was dreaming of the hour |
When Greece, | ^er knee in suppliance ben, j
Should tremble ai his powder : |
Marco Bozzaris, the Epaminondas of modern Greece. He fell
in a night attack upon the Turkish camp at Laspi, the site of the
214 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
In dreams, through cam/), said court, he bore |
The trophies of a con'queror; |
In dreams his song of trrumph heard ; a |
Then ( wore his monarch's 11 sig\ne-ring ; |
Then , press'd tha monarch's thrones | a king' ; |
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, |
As Eden's garden c -bird. |
l At midnight, in the forest-shades^ |
2 Bozza'ris rang'd his Suliote band* |
True as the steel of their tried blades v , |
Heroes in heart, and hand v . |
There had the Persian's thousands stood; |
There had the glad earth drunk their bloods |
On old PlatreVs day |
And now ( there breath'd that haunted air, J
The sons of sires who con'quer'd there, |
With arm to stride, | and soul to dares |
As quicA, as far' as they. |
'An hour pass'd on x d J 2 the TurA; awo&e v \
Thai bright dream was his las v ; |
He wo&e to hear his sentries shriek |
#"" To arms'! |they come> !|theGree&'! the^Gree& x ! |
He wo&e to die\ midst flame, and smokes j
And shout, and groan, and sa'bre-stro/ce, |
And death-shots falling thick, and fasZ, j
As lightnings from the moun'tain-cloud ; j
And heard, with voice as trunvpeZ-loud, |
Bozzaris cheer his bandv : |
fff " Stride till the last arm'd foe expires* ; |
Stride for your al'tars, and your fires x ; |
Stride for the green graves of your sires v |
Gods and your native land' !" |
ancient Platsea, August 20, 1823, and expired in the moment of
victory. His last words were " To die for liberty is a pleasure,
and not a pain."
a Triumph heard ; not tri-um'furd. b M6n'nrks. c G^r'dn.
d Pass'd on ; not pass-ton'.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 215
They fough* like brave v men | long, and well x ; j
They pil'd tha* ground with Moslem slain^; |
They con'quer'd | bu* Bozzaris fell*, |
Bleeding at every vein x . |
His few surviving comrades* , saw ( |
His smile when rang their proud hurrah', j
And the red field was won x ; |
Then saw in death 7/is eyelids close , ,
Calmly, as to a night's repose*, |
Li&e flow x ers at set of sun v . |
to the bridal b chanrber, Death ! |
Come to the mother's, | when she feels 1
For the firs* time, j her firstborn's breath j
Come when the blessed seals |
"Thai close the pestilence, are bro&e, |
And crowded cities wail its stro&e x |
Come in consumption's ghastly form, |
The earthquake shocA;', | the ocean-stornr |
2 Come when the hear* beats high, and warm, j
With ban x quet-song, | and dance', | and wine* |
l And thou ar* terrible | the tear', j
The groan/, | the knell', | the pall', | the bien ; |
And all we know, | or dream', | or fear' |
Of agony, | are thine x . |
4 Bu* to the hero, | 3 when his swore? !
Has won the battle for the free, |
4 Thy voice sounds like a proph'et's word; |
2 And in its hollow tones, are heard |
4 The thanks of millions ye* to be v . |
3 Come when ^is task of fame' is wrough* |
Come with her lau x rel-leaf, | blood.-bough* |
Come in her crowding hour | and then |
2 Thy sunken eye's unearthly ligh* |
To him is welcome as the sigh* |
Of sky, and stars to prison'd men t : |
, saw; not cum'rades-saw. b Brl'd&l; not brl'dle.
216 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
3 Thy grasp is welcome as the hand |
Of brother in a foreign land x ; |
Thy summons, welcome as the cry |
Thai told the Indian Isles' were nigh |
To the world-seeking Genoese, |
When the land-wind, ] from woods of palm, |
And orange-groves, ] and fields of balm, |
Blew o'er the Haytian seas v . |
4 Bozzaris ! | with the stori'd brave, |
Greece nurtur'd in Aer glo'ry's time, |
Res v thee | 2 there is no prouder grave, |
Even in her own proud clime x . |
She wore no funeral weeds for thee x , |
Nor bade the darA hearse wave its plume |
Li&e torn branch from death's leafless tree^ j
In sorrow's pom/>, and pa v geantry, |
The heartless luxury of the tomb t . |
'But she remembers thee as one |
Long lov'd', | and for a season gonev ; |
For thee her poet's lyre is wreath'dvj |
Her marble wrought, | her music breath'd^; |
For thee she rings the birtlr-day bellsx ; |
Of thee Aer babes' first listing tells : |
For thine Aer evening prayer is said |
At palace-couch, and cot x tage-bed ; |
Her soldier, closing with the foe, |
Gives, for thy sake, a deadlier blow* ; |
His plighted maiden, when she fears |
For him, the joy of Aer young years, |
Thinks of thy x fate, | and checks her tears\ j
And she, the mother of thy boys x , |
Though in Aer eye, and faded cheeA; |
Is read the grief she will not spea&', |
The mem'ry of Aer buried joysv, |
And even she who gave thee births |
Will, by their pilgrim-circled hearth, j
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 217
Ta.& of thy doom without a sigh' : |
m/ Tor thou art Freedom's now, | and Fame's ; |
One of the few, | the immortal names, |
Thai were not born to die v . |
(CAMPBELL.)
Wizard and Lochiel.
Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day |
When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array* ! j
For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight 1 , \
And the clans of Culloden are scatter'd in nght, : \
They rally, | they bleed', | for their kingdom and crown> ; j
Wo, wo to the riders thai trample them dowa ! |
Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain x , |
And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain v . |
Bui har/r / 1 through the fasi-flashing lightning of war, |
What steed to the desert flies frantic and far' ? |
'T is thines Oh Glenullin ! whose bride shall awaii', |
Like a love-lighted watch'-fire, all nighi at the gaie*. |
A steed comes at monring | no ri'der is there; |
Bui its bridle is red with the sign of despair^. |
Weep x , Albin ! | to death, and captivity led / |
O weep 1 / | but thy tears cannoi number the deadv : |
For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave 7 , |
Culloden thai reeks with the blood of the brave t . |
LOCHIEL.
Go, preach to the cow'ard, | thou deaths-telling seer ! ]
Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear, |
Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sighi, |
This man'tle, | to cover the phantoms of frigh v . |
WIZARD.
Ha v ! ! laugh'si thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn'? |
Proud bird of the mountain, | thy plume shall be torn! j
19
21S PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Say x , | rush'd the bold eagle, exultingly forth', ]
From his home in the dark-rolling clouds of the north'? |
Lo ! the death-sho^ of foemen out-speeding, he rode \
Compan'ionless, | bearing destruction abroad ; |
Bu down let him stoop from his havoc on higlr ! |
Ah ! home' let him speed, | for the spoiler is nigh. |
Why flames the far sunrmk ? \ Why shooZ to the blas j
Those em'bers, | like stars from the firmament, cast ? \
'T is the fire-shower of ru'in, | all dreadfully driven |
From his eyry, | thai beacons the darkness of heav v n. |
crested Lochiel ! | the peerless in might, |
Whose banners arise on the battlements' height, |
Heaven's fire is around thee to blasZ and to bum ; |
Return to thy dwelling: all lonely return ! |
For the blackness of aslres shall mark where it stood, I
And a wild mother scream o'er Aer famishing brood / j
LOCHIEL.
False Wizard, avaunZV 1 1 have marshall'd my clan x : |
Their swords are a thousand ; | their bosoms are one, : \
They are true to the lasZ of their blood, and their breathy |
And like reap'ers, descend to the harvest of death v . |
Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock'! \
Le Aim dash his proud foam like a wave on the rocA: / 1
Bu wo to his kindred, | and wo to his cause', |
When AFbin her claymore indignantly draws ; |
When her bonneted chieftains to victory crowd, |
Clanronald the dauntless, and Moray the proud; |
All plaided, and plum'd in their tartan array [
WIZARD.
Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day x ! |
For, dar/c, and despairing, my sight I may seal, I
Ye man cannot cover \vha.t God would reveal : |
'T is the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, \
And coming events cast their shadows before^. |
1 tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring |
With the bloodhounds tha bar/c for thy fugitive king 1 - 1
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 219
Lo ! anointed by heaven with the vials of wrath, |
Behold where he flies on Ais desolate path* ! |
Now in darkness, and billows, he sweeps from my sigh^ : ,
Rise*! RiseM ye wilt/ tempes/s, and cover his flight /
'Tis finish 'd. | Their thunders arehush'donthe moors v ;|
Culloden 1 is losi x , | and my country deplores v . |
Bui where is the iron-bound pris oner ? | Where x ? |
For the red eye of battle is shui in despair^. |
Says mounts he the ocean- wave, | banish'd, forlorn', |
Like a limb from his country, cast bleeding, and torn' ? |
Ah ! nb x ; | for a dark'er departure is near ; |
The war-drum is muffled, | and blacA; is the bien ; |
His death-bell is tolling ; | Oh ! mercy, dispel |
Yon sighi, that it freezes my spirit to tell* ! |
Life flutters, convuls'd in his quivering limbs, |
And Ais blood-streaming nostril in ag v ony swims. |
Accurs'd be the fagots thai blaze at his feet, \
Where his heart shall be thrown, ere it ceases to beai, |
With the smo&e of its ashes to poison the gale |
LOCHIEL.
Oown', soothless b insult x er ! I trusi not the talev ; j
For never shall Albin ( a destiny meet \
80 blac/ with dishonour | so foul with retrea^. |
Tho' his perishing ranks should be strow'd in their gore, |
Like o'cean-weeds , heap'd on the surf-beaten shore*, |
Lochiel, untainted by flight, or by chains*, |
While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, |
Shall victor exult, \ or in death be laid low, |
With his back to the field, \ and his feet to the foe* ! |
And, leaving in battle no b\ot on his name, |
LOO& proudly to heaven | from the death-bed of fame. J
; not Cdl-16'dn. b Sbth'tts.
220 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
THE HERMIT.
(BEATTIE.)
At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still, |
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove ; |
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill, )
And nought but the nightmgale's song* in the grove* : j
It was thus, by the cave of the mountam afar, |
While his harp rung symphonious, | a her'mii began ; |
No more with /nmself, or with nature at war, |
He thought as a sage x , a though he kit as a man v b . |
Ah ! why all abandon'd to darkness, and wo x ? |
Why, lone Philomela, thai languishing fall '( \
For spring shall return, and a lover bestow, |
And sorrow ( no longer thy bosom inthral v . |
Bui, if pity inspire thee, | renew' the sad lay; |
Mourn, sweetesicomplainer,|man x calls thee to mourn;]
O soothe him whose pleasures like thine' , pass away; |
Full quickly they pass | but u they never return. |
Now ( gliding remote on the verge of the sky, |
The moon half-extinguish'^, her cres^ceni displays ; |
Bui lately I mark'e? , | when majestic on high\ |
She shone*, ! and the planets were losi in her blaze. |
Roll , on', thou fair ( orb, \ and with gladness pursue |
The path thai conduces thee to splendour again* : |
Bui manV faded glory j whai change shall renew^ 1 \
Ah fooF ! to exuli v in a glory so vain ! I
'T is nighi x I and the landscape is lovely no more* : |
I mourn ; I bui, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you x ; |
For morn is approaching, your charms to restore*, |
Perfum'dwithfreshfragrance,andglitteringwithdew.J
NFor jet for the ravage of win'ter I mourn ; |
Kind Nature, the embryo blossom will save* : I
Bui when shall spring , visii the mouldering urn ! I
O when shall day t dawn , on the nighi of the gravej ^
"Thong-ht as a sage; not thaw'taz-zer sage. D Felt as a man,
not fel'taz-zer man.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 221
'T was thus t by the glare of false science betray'd, |
That leads to bewilder, and dazzles to blind; |
My thoughts wont to roam from shade onward to shade, |
Destruction before me, and sorrow behind. |
O pity, greaJ Father of LighJ, | then , I cried, |
Thy creature who fain would not wander from theev ! '
Lo, humbled in dust, I relinquish my pride* : |
From doub,and from darkness,! thou only, canst free v .l
And darkness, and doub* are now flying away v ; |
No longer ( I roam in conjecture forlorn. : |
So breaks on the traveller, j fain and astray, |
The bright, and the balmy effulgence of morn v . |
See Truth, Love, and Mercy, in triumph descending, |
And Nature all glowing in Eden's first bloonr ! |
On the coldcheeA: of Death,|smiles and rouses are blending,]
And Beauty, immor'tal, | awakes from the tomfy. |
DIALOGUE BETWEEN KING EDWARD, AND TIIE EARL OF
WARWICK.
[Translated from the French, by Dr. Thomas Franklin.]
Edw. Le me have no intruders ; | above all,
Keep Warwick from my sigh^ |
[Enter WARWICK.]
War. Behold him here v |
No welcome gues, it seems, | unless I asA;
My lord of Suffolk's leave | there was a time |
When Warwic/c wanted not his' aid | to gain
Admission here. |
Ed. There was a time, perhaps, |
When Warwick more desired', | and more 7 deserved^ it.\
War. Never; | I 've been a foolish, faithful slavey j
All my best years v , the morning of my life', |
Have been devoted to your service : | wha^
Are now the fruits' ? j Disgrace*, and infamy |
My spotless name, | which never yet the breath
Of calumny had tainted, | made the moc&
19*
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
For foreign fools to carp ai : \ but 'tis fii,
Who trust in princes, | should be thus rewarded. |
Ed. I thought, my lord, \ I had full well repaid'
Your services | with honours, | wealth', | and power
Unlimited : | thy all-directing hand 1
Guided in se'crei | every latent wheel
Of government, | and mov'd the whole machine^ : |
Warwick was all in v all, \ and powerless Edward |
Stood like a ci'pher in the great account |
War. Who gave that cipher worth v ,| and seated thee
On England's throne' ? | Thy undistinguish'd name I
Had rotted in the dust from whence it sprang', [
And moulder'd in oblivion, j had noi WarwicA: |
Dug from its sordid mine | the useless ore', |
And stamp'd it with a di v adem. | Thou knowesi
This wretched country, | doom'd, perhaps, like Rome , ,
To fall by its own self -destroying hand, |
Tosi for so many years j in the rough sea
Of civil discord', | bui for me had per'ish'd. |
In thai distressful hour, 1 1 seiz'd the helm', |
Bade the rough waves subside in peace% | and steer'd
Your shatter'd vessel safe into the hanbour. I
You may despise, perhaps, | thai useless aid |
Which you no longer wani x ; | but know, proud youth, j
He who forgets a friend, | deserves a foe v . |
Ed. Know, too, | reproach for benefits receiv'd, |
Pays every debis | and cancels obligation. |
War. Why, thai indeed is fnrgal honesty,
A thrifty, saving knowledge : | when the debi
Grows burdensome, | and cannoi be discharg'd, |
A sponge will wipe oui alb, | and cost you nothing. |
Ed. When you have counted o'er the numerous train
Of mighty gifts | your bounty lavish'd on me, |
You may remember nexi | the injuries
Which I have done you ; | lei me know them all 1 , |
And I will make you ample satisfaction. |
War. Thou cansi' noi; |thou hasi robb'd me of a jewel 1
It is noi in thy pow er to restore : |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 223
I was the firsi, | shall future annals say, |
Thai broke the sacred bond of public trusi
And mutual confidence ; | ambassadors,
In after times, | mere instruments, perhaps, |
Of venal states'men, | shall recall my name |
To witness thai they wani not an exanVple, |
And plead my guilt \ to sanctify their own. |
Amidsi the herd of mercenary slaves
Thai hauni your court, | could none be found but War-
wick, |
To be the shameless herald of a lie' ? |
Ed. And wouldsi thou turn the vile reproach on me'? j
If I have bro&e my faith, | and stain'd the name
Of England, | thanA thy own pernicious counsels |
That urged* me to it, \ and extorted from me |
A cold consent to whai my heart abhorr'd*.
War. I Ve been abus'd v , | insulted, | and betray'ds ; J
My injur'd honour cries aloud for vengeance, |
Her wounds will never close* ! |
Ed. These gusis of passion I
Will but inflame x them ; | If I have been righi
Informed, my lord, | besides these dangerous scars
Of bleeding honour, you have other wounds
As deep', though not so fa v tal : | such, perhaps, i
As none but fair Elizabeth can cure. |
War. Elizabeth! |
Ed. Nay, start* not | I have cause
To wonder mosi' : | I little though/, indeed, |
When Warwick told me, I mighi learn to love, |
He was himself so able to instruct me: |
Bui I 've discovered alb |
War. And so have T |
Too well I know thy breach of friendship theres ]
Thy fruitless, base endeavours to supplant me. |
Ed. I scorn' it, Sir | Elizabeth hath charms x , |
And I have equal righi with you' to admire x them ; j
Nor see I aughi so godlike in the forms |
So all-comman'ding in the name of Warwick, |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
ThaZ he alone should revel in the charms
Of beauty, | and monopolize perfection. |
I knew not of your love.
War. 'Tis false! |
You knew it all', | and meanly took occasion, |
Whilst I was busied in the noble office, |
Your Grace thought fit to honour me withal, |
To tamper with a wea/c, unguarded wo'man, ;
And basely steal a treasure |
Which your kingdom could not purchase. J
Ed. How know you tha' ? \ but be it as it may*, |
I had a righ^, | nor will I tamely yield
My claim to hap'piness, | the privilege
To choose the partner of my throne' : |
It is a branch of my prerogative. |
War. Prerogative ! | what 's tha^ ? | the boasZ of ty
rants, |
A borrow'd jewel, | glittering in the crown
With spe'cious lustre, | lent but to betray\. |
You had it, Sir, | and hold' it, | from the people.
Ed. And therefore do I prize' it:\I would guard
Their liberties, | and they shall strengthen mine' : |
BuZ when proud faction, and her rebel crew |
InsuU their soveTeign, | trample on his laws', |
And bid defiance to his pow'er, | the people,
In justice to themselves', | will then defend
His cause', | and vindicate the rights they gave. |
War. Go to your darling people, then ; | for soon,
If I mistake not, | 't will be need v ful ; | try
Their boasted zeal', | and see if one x of them |
Will dare to lift his arm up in your cause, |
If I forbid' him. \
Ed. Is it so, my lord' ? \
Then mar& my wordsv : 1 1 've been your slave too long', |
And you have ruled me with a rod of rron ; |
Bu henceforth know, proud peer, 1 1 am thy mas'ter, |
And will' be so : | the king who delegates
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 225
His power to others' hands, | but ill deserves
The crowiv he wears. |
War. Loo/c well then to your own x :
1 1 sits but foose'ly on your headv ; | for, knows |
The man who injur'd War'wicA:, J never pass'd
UnpunishV yet. |
Ed. Nor he who threaten'd Ed^ward |
You may repent^ it, Sir | my guards' there j seize
This trartor, and convey him to the Tow er |
There let Aim learn obedience. |
SPEECH ON THE SUBJECT OP EMPLOYING THE INDIANS
TO FIGHT AGAINST THE AMERICANS. NOV. 18, 1777.*
(LORD CHATHAM.)
I carrno*, my lords, 1 1 will* not | join in congratula-
tion | on misfortune and disgrace^ | This, my lords, | is
a perilous, and tremendous moment ; | it is not a time
for adula uon : | the smoothness of flattery cannot save
us | in this rugged and aw x ful crisis. | It is now neces-
sary j to instruct the throne in the language of truths |
We musZ, if possible, | dispel the delusion, and darkness
which envelope it ; \ and display in its full danger, and
genuine colours, | the ruin which is brought to our
Can ministers still presume to expect support in their
infatua'tion ? | Can parliament be so dead to its dig-
nity, and duty,) as to gi ye us support to measures thus
obtruded, and forced' upon it ? \ measures, my lords, |
which have reduced this late flourishing empire | to
scorn, and contempt . | Bu yesterday, | and England
might have stood against the world'; | now, none so poor
as ^to do her revverence ! |
* Mr. Pitt delivered this speech in opposition to Lord Suffolk,
who proposed in Parliament to employ the Indians against the
Americans ; and who had said, in the course of the debate, that they
had a right to use all the means, thai God and Nature had put into
their hands, to conquer America.
226 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
The people whom we at first despised as rebels, | but
whom we now acknowledge as enemies, | are abetted
against us, j supplied with every military store', | their
interest consulted, | and their ambassadors entertained |
by our inveterate en^erny ; | and ministers do noi, | and
dare' not | interpose with dignity, or effect |
The desperate state of our army abroad, | is, in part,
known, j No man more highly esteems, and honours
the English troops than I x do : | I know their virtues,
and their valour ; 1 1 know they can achieve any thing
but impossibilities ; | and I know thai the conquest of
English America, | is' an impossibility : | you cannot, my
lords, | you cannot, conquer America. |
Whai is your present situation there ? | We do noi
know the worsi ; j but we know j that in three cam-
paigns | we have done nothing, and suffered much. |
You may swell every expense 1 , | accumulate every as-
sistance, and extend your traffic to the shambles of
every German des^poi, | yei your attempts will be for
ever vain and im'poteni ; j doubly so indeed j from this
mercenary aid on which you relyv ; | for it irritates, to
an incurable reseni'meni, | the minds of your adversa-
ries, | to overrun them with the mercenary sons of ra-
pine, and plunder, devoting them, and their possessions, (
to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. | If I were an
American, | as I am an Englishman, | while a foreign
troop was landed in my country, 1 1 nevxer would lay
down my arms | Nev v er ! | NeVer ! | Nev^er ! |
Bui, my lords, | who is the man | thai, in addition to
the disgraces, and mischiefs of the war, | has dared to
authorize, and associate to our arms j the tomahawk,
and scalping-knife of the savage | to call into civil-
ized alliance, | the wild, and inhuman inhabitant of the
W0 ods' j to delegate to the merciless Indian | the
defence of disputed rightSx, | and to wage the horrors
of his* barbarous war | againsi our brethren? My
lords, | these enormities | cry aloud for redress, and
punishment
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 227
Bui, my lords, | this barbarous measure has been de-
fended, j not only on the principles of policy, and neces-
sity, | bui also on those of morality; | "for it is per-
fectly allowable," | says Lord Suffolk, | " to use all the
means j that God, and nature have pui into our hands." |
I am astonashed, 1 1 am shocked', | to hear such princi-
ples confessed* ; | to hear them avowed in this house', |
or in this country ! ]
My lords, | I did not intend to encroach so much on
your attention ; | but I cannot repress my indignation : I
I feel myself impelled' to spea/c. | My lords, | we are
called upon as members of this houses | as men', | as
Christians, | to protest againsi such horrible barbar-
ity | " Thai God, and nature have put into our
hands x !" | Whai ideas of God, and nature | thai noble
lord may entertain, | I know* not ; \ but I know | thai
such detestable principles | are equally abhorreni to
religion, and humanity. |
Whai> / | to attribute the sacred sanction of God, and
nature, | to the massacres of the Indian scal'ping-knife ! |
to the cannibal savage, | torturing, | murdering, | and
devouring his unhappy vic'tims ! | Such notions shock
every precepi of morality, ] every feeling of human'ity, |
every sentimeni of honour. | These abominable prin-
ciples, | and this more abominable avowal of them, |
demand the mosi decisive indignation. |
I call upon thai righi reverend, | and this mosi learn'-
ed bench, | to vindicate the religion of their Gods | to
suppori the justice of their country. | I call upon the
bishops | to interpose the unsullied sanctity of their
lawns | upon the judges | to interpose the purity of their
er'mine, | to save us from this pollution. | I call upon
the honour of your lordships | to reverence the dignity
of your an'cestors, | and to maintain your own*. | I call
upon the spirii, and humanity of my coun'try, | to vin-
dicaie the national character : | I invoke the genius of
the British Constitution. |
To send forth the merciless Indian, | thirsting for
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
blood x / I against whom v ? | your protestaru brethren ! |
To lay waste their country, | to desolate their dweb-
lings, | and extirpate their race, and name', | by the aid,
and instrumentality | of these ungovernable savages, j
Spain can no longer boast pre-em v inence in barbarity. |
She armed herself with bloods-hounds | to extirpate the
wretched natives of Mex v ico ; | we, more ruthless, | loose
these x dogs of war | against our countrymen in Amer v -
ica, | endeared to us | by every tie thai can sanctify
humanity. |
I solemnly call upon your lordships, | and upon every
order of men in the state', | to stamp upon this infa-
mous procedure, j the indelible stigma of the public ab-
horrence. | More particularly, 1 1 call upon the vene-
rable prelates of our relrgion, | to do away this iniquity ;|
let them perform a lustration | to purify the country |
from this deep, and deadjy sin. |
APOSTROPHE TO LIGHT.
(MILTON.)
Hail ! holy Lights j offspring of Heaven, first born*, j
Or of the Eternal co-eternal beanh, |
May I express thee unblam'd' ? \ since God v ( is light',
And never but in unapproaclred ligh',
Dwelt from eter v nity, | dwek tljen in thee v , |
Bright effluence of bright essence invcreate ; |
Or hear's* thou rather, ] pure ethereal stream', |
Whose fountain who shall telL ? I Before the suns |
Before the heavens, thou werZ, | and at the voice
Of God, | as with a man'tle, | didst invest
The rising world of waiters, | darA;, and deep\, \
Won from the void, and formless infinite. I
Thee I revisit now with bolder wing v , |
Escap'd the Stygian pool, | though long detained
In tha^ obscure sojourn, | while in my flight, !
Through utter, and through middle darkness borne, j
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 229
With other notes than to the Orphean lyre, j
I sung of chaos, and eternal nigh^ ; |
Taught by the heavenly muse j to venture down
The dar& descend, I and up to re-ascend, |
Though hard, and rare* : I thee I revisit safes I
And feel thy sovereign, vital lamp* ; | but thou
Revisit'si not these eyes v | thai roll in vain, |
To fine? thy piercing ray, I and find no dawn* ; |
So thick a drop serene* I hath quench'd their orbsv
Or dim suffusion veil'd . |
Yei noi the more |
Cease , I , to wander where the muses hauni, )
Clear spring', | or shady grove', | or sunny hill*, )
Smii with the love of sacred song* ; | but chief
Thee, Sion, I and the flow'ry brooks beneath, I
Thai wash thy hallow'd fee*, and tr warbling flow, i
Nightly I vis,ii ; | nor sometimes forged
Those other two, j equall'd with me , in faies |
('So were I equal I'd with them in renown x ) I
3 Blind Thanryris, | and blind Maeon'ides, I
j^nd Tyre'sias, and Phin'eas, ! prophets old* ; |
Then feed on thoughts | thai voluntary move
Harmonious^ numbers ; j as the wakeful bird
Sings dark'ling, ! and in shadiest covert hid, 1
Tunes her nocturnal notes x . |
Thus with the year,
Seasons return ; bui noi to me returns
Days I or the sweetf approach of e'en', or morn* |
Or sigh* of vernal bloom', I or summer's rose x ,
Or flocks', ! or herdss i or human face divine* ; |
'Bui cloud instead, I and ever-during dar& x
Surrounds^ me, 1 2 from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, I and for the book of knowledge fair, |
Presented with a universal blan&
Of nature's worksv, | to me expung'd and raz'd v , j
* Drop serene, gutta serena, a disease of the eye, attended with
loss of vision, the organ retaining its natural transparency.
20
230 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
And wisdom, at one entrance, quite shut out . \
So much the rather thou, celestial LighZ, |
Shine inward, | and the mind through all her powers
Irradiate : ! there' plant eyes', 1 all mist from thence |
Purge, and disperses | thai I may see, and tell |
Of things invisible to mortal sigh^. |
HYDER ALL
[Extract from Mr. Burke's Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts.]
Among the victims to this magnificent plan of uni-
versal plunder, | pursued by the company in India, | so
worthy of the heroic avarice of the projectors, | you
Aave all heard | (and he has made Aimself to be well
remembered) | of an Indian Chief, called Hyder All
Khan. | This man possessed the western, | as the com-
pany under the Nabo6 of ArcoZ, | does the east'ern
division of the Carnatic.* I It was among the leading
measures in the design of this cabal | (according to their
own emphatic language) | to extirpate this Hyder Ali. |
They declared the Nabob of Arco to be ^is soveTeign, j
and himself to be a reb'el, I and publicly invested their
instrument | with the sovereignty of the kingdom of
Mysore. | BuZ their victim was not of the passive
kind : | they were soon obliged I to conclude a treaty of
peace, and close allrance with this rebel, | at the gates
of Madras. |
Both before, and since' that treaty, | every principle
of policy I pointed out this power as a natural allrance; |
and, on his part, | it was courted by every sort of ami-
* "The Carnatic is that portion of southern India which runs
along the coast of Coromandel. Its length is 500 miles, and its
breadth from 50 to 100, and it belongs to the East India Company.
Hyder Ali and the Nabob of Arcot were neighbouring princes,
but the Nabob held his power from the Company. The Company
lent themselves to the Nabob's schemes of ambition, the object of
which was (as usual), to enlarge his own dominion at the expense
of that of Hyder Ali." a Plant eyes ; not plantize.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 231
cable office. I Bu the cabinet council of English r ,ied-
itors | would not suffer their Nabob of Arco* to sign v
the treaty, | nor even to give to a prince', | at leasZ Ais
equal, 1 the ordinary titles of respect, and courtesy. |
From that time forward, | a continued plot' was car-
ried on within the divan, | blacA;, and white*, I of the
Nabob of Arcotf', I for the destruction of this Hyder Ali. |
As to the outward members of the double, | or rather
treble government of Madras, | which had signed the
treaty, | they were always prevented by some over-
ruling influence I (which they do not describe, | but
which cannot be misunderstood) I from performing wha
justice, and interest combined so evidently to enforce. |
When at length Hyder Ali | found that Ae had to
do with men | who either would sign no convention, |
or whom no treaty, and no signature could bind x , and
who were the determined enemies of human intercourse
itself, I he decreed to make the country I possessed by
these incorrigible, and predestinated criminals, | a me-
morable example to mankind. | He resolved, | in the
gloomy recesses of a mind, capacious of such things, ]
to leave the whole Carnatic | an everlasting monument
of vengeance, | and to put perpetual desolation, | as a
barrier between him, and those | against whom, | the
faith which holds the moral elements of the world to-
gether, | was no protection. |
He became at length so confident of his force, 1 and
so collected in his mighz, | that he made no secret what-
ever | of Ais dreadful resolution. I Having terminated
his disputes with every enemy, and every rival, I who
buried their mutual animosities | in their common in-
terest against the creditors of the Nabob of ArcoZ, I he
drew from every quarter, I whatever a savage ferocity |
could add* to his new rudiments in the art of destruc-
tion ; | and, compounding all the materials of firry, |
hav'oc, and desola'tion, | into one black cloud, 1 he hung
for a while on the declivities of the mountains. | Whilst
the authors of all these evils, | were idly, and stupidly
232 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
gazing on this menacing meteor | (which blackened all
the horizon) | it suddenly burs^, | and poured down the
whole of its contents I upon the plains of the Carnatic. |
Then ensued a scene of wo x ; | the \ike of which no
eye had seen, | nor heart conceived, | and which no
tongue can adequately tell. | All the horrors of war,
before known, or heard' of, | were mer cy to tha new
hav.oc. | A storm of universal fire', I blasted every
fields I consumed every house,' and destroyed every
tem\ple. | The miserable inhabitants, | flying from their
flaming villages, | in part, were slaughtered ; | others, |
without regard to sex', to age', to rank', or sacredness
of function | fathers torn from their chiPdren, | hus-
bands, from wives 1 , I enveloped in a whirlwind of cav'-
alry, | and amidst the goading spears of dri'vers. | and
the trampling of pursuing hor'ses, | were swept into
captivity | in an unknown, and hostile land. I Those
who were able to evade this tempest, fled to the walled
cities ; I but escaping from fire', sword', and exile, | they
fell into the jaws of famine.
For eighteen months', I without intermission, | this
destruction raged from the gates of Madras | to the
gates of Tanjorev ; I and so completely did these mas-
ters in their art, | Hyder Ali, and his more ferocious
son, | absolve themselves of their impious vow, I thaZ,
when the British armies traversed, as they did, | the
Carnatic for hundreds of miles in all directions, I through
the whole line of their march, | they did not see one
man\, I not one woman x , | not one child v , | not one four-
footed beast' of any description whatever. | One dead,
uniform silence u | reigned over the whole region. |
DARKNESS.
(BYRON.)
I had a drea.m | which was not all' a dream ,
The bright sun was extinguished ; I and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space, 1
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 233
Rayless, and pattvless ; I and the icy earth |
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air . |
Morn came, and wen^, I and came, and brought no day* ;|
And men forgot their pas'sions | in the dread
Of this their desolation ; | and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for lighZ v . |
And they did live by watcFT-fires ; | and the thrones, |
The palaces of crowned kings' I the huts', |
The habitations of all things which dwell', |
Were burn'd for bea v cons. I Cit'ies were consum'd* ; |
And men were gathered round their blazing homes |
To look once more into each other's face v . |
Happy were they | who dweU within the eye
Of the volcanoes, I and their mountain-torch. |
A fearful hope | was all the world contain'd ; |
Fores/s were set on fire x ; I and hour by hour
They fell and fa'ded | and the crackling trunks |
Extinguish'd with a crash', I and all was blac& x . |
The brows of men, | by the despairing ligh*, |
Wore an unearthly as'pec, | as by f ts
The flashes fell upon them. | Some lay down, |
And hid their eyes, I and wepZ x ; | and some did rest
Their chins j upon their clinched hands, I and smil'dv ; |
And others hurried to and fro, I and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, I and look'd up
With mad disquietude I on the dull sky, |
The pall of a pas world^ ; I and then again
With curses, I cas* them down upon the d\ist\ |
And gnash'd their teetlr, I and
The wild birds shriek'd, |
And, terrified, I did flutter on the ground, |
And flap their useless wingSv ; I the wildest brutes* |
Came tame, and tremulous ; I and vipers crawl'd, |
And twin'd themselves among the multitude, !
Hissing, but stintless. I They were slain for food^ ; |
And war | which, for a moment, was no more, I
20*
-234 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Did glut" 7/imself again : | a meal was bough*
With blood' ; I and each sat sullenly apar |
Gorging Aimself in gloom s . |
No love' was left ; |
All earth was but one thought ; | and thai was deat,h v , ,
Immediate, and inglorious ; I and the pang
Of famine I fed upon all entrails. | Men
Died, | and their bones were tombless as their fleslr ; j
The meager by the meager were devour'^. |
E'en dogs' assail'd their masters ; | all, save one, |
And he was faithful to a corse, | ant? kept
The birds, and beasts, | and famish'd men at bay', |
Till hunger clung them, | or the dropping dead
Lured their lanA; jaws v . I Himself sought out no x food, j
Bui with a piteous, and perpetual moan, |
And a quic&, desolate cry, | licking the hand
Which answer'd not with a caress, | he died x . |
The crowd was famish'd by degreesx ; | but two
Of an enormous city, I did survive v ; |
And they were enemies. | They met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place, |
Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things |
For an unholy u'sage : | they rak'd up,
And, shivering, scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands, |
The feeble aslres, I and their feeble breath |
Blew for a little life, I and made a flame |
Which was a mocLery. | Then they lifted up
Their eyes as \t grew lighter',] and beheld
Each other's as'pecZs | saw, | and shriek'd', | and died\ ; j
E'en of their mutual hid'eousness they died, |
Unknowing who he was | upon whose brow ]
Famine had written fiend . j
The world Was void^ ; |
The populous, and the powerful was* a lump, |
* Some, being 1 anxious to correct what is already right, have
substituted were for was.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 235
Sea^sonless, I herbJess, | treeless, | man'less, | lifejess j
A lump of deatlr | a chaos of hare? clay v . |
The rivers, lakes', and o'cean, I all stood still ; |
And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths^. |
Ships, sai'lorless, I lay rotting on the sea v ; |
And their masts fell down piecev-meal ; as they dropp'd,|
They slep on the abyss, without a surge . |
The waves were dead v ; | the tides were in their grave\, |
The moon, their mistress, | had expired before x ; |
The winds were withered in the stagnant air ;
And the clouds perish'd. | Darkness had no need
Of aid from theniv I she .. was the universe. I
(ADDISON.)
Lucius, Sempronius, and Senators.
Semp. Rome still survives in this assembl'd senate ! |
Let us remember we are Ca'to's friends, |
And ac like men who claim tha glorious title. |
Luc. Cato will soon be here*, ! and open to us
The occasion of our meeting. | Har& ! ) Ae comes x ! |
[Flourish ofTrumpets.
May all the guardian gods of Rome direct him ! |
[Enter CATO.]
Cato. Fathers, we once again are me in coun\cil j
Caesar's approach has summon'd us together ; |
And Rome attends Aer fate from our resolves x . |
How shall we treaZ this bold aspiring man x ? |
Success still follows Aim, I and backs Ais crimes^ : |
Pharsalia gave Aim Rome' ; I E v gyp has since
Receiv'd Ais yoke ; I and the whole Nile' is Caesar's. |
Why should I mention Juba's overthrow, |
And Scipio's death\ ? | Numidia's burning sands
Still smo/te with bloods I 'T is time we should decree
Wha course to ta&e. ! Our foe advances on us, |
And envies us e'en Libya's sultry desverts.
236 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Fathers, 1 pronounce your thoughts^ | are they still fix|
To hold it out, | and fight it to the lasZ' ? J
Or are your hearts subdu'd at length, | and wrought
By time, and ill success, | to a submission ? j
Sempronius, spea&. |
Semp. My voice is still for war. |
Can a Roman senate long debate |
Which of the two to choose | slav'ry, or death'? |
No^ | let us rise at onces | gird on our swords', j
And, at the head of our remaining troops, ]
Attac/t the foes | breaA; through the thicA: array |
Of his throng'd legions, | and charge home' upon Mm : |
Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest, }
May reach Ms hear^, | and free the world from bondage.!
Rises fathers, | rise' ! | 'T is Rome x demands your help; j
Rise, and revenge her slaughter'd citizens, |
Or share their fate* ! I The corpse of half Aer sen'ate, j
Manure the fields of Thessaly, | while we
Si* here | deliberating in cold debates, |
Whether to sacrifice our lives to honour, I
Or wear them out in servitude, and chain's*. |
Rouse up v , for shame' ! | our brothers of Pharsalia i
Point at their wounds x , | and cry aloud I to bat'tle ! |
Great Pompey's shade | complains that we are slow 1 ; |
And Scipio's ghost \ walks unreveng'd' amongst us ! |
Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal |
Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason : J
True fortitude | is seen in grea exploits |
That justice warrants, I and that wisdom guides v J
All else is tow'ring frenzy and distraction, j
Are not the lives of those I who draw the sword
In Rome's defence, I intrusted to our care ? |
Should we thus lead them to a field of slaughter, |
Mighz not the impartial world, I with reason, say, |
We lavish'd at our deaths | the blood of thousands, |
To grace our fall, | and ma&e our ruin glorious ? |
Lucius, | we next would know what's your' opinion. |
Luc. My thoughts, I must confess,|are turn'd on peace.)
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 237
Already have our quarrels fill'd the world
With widows, and with orphans : | Scythia mourns
Our guilty wars, | and earth's remotest regions |
Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome, |
'T is time to sheathe x the sword, | and spare mankind. |
It is not Caesar, | but the gods', my fathers, |
The gods declare against x us, and repel
Our vain attempts. I To urge the foe to battle, 1
Prompted by blind revenge, and wild despair, |
Were to refuse the awards of prov'idence, a |
And no* to rest in heaven's determination. |
Already have we shown our love to Rome, |
Now ( let us show submission to the gods. |
We took up arms, not to revenge' ourselves, |
But free the convmon wealth : j when this end fails, |
Arms have no further use. Our country's cause, |
Thai drew our swords, jnow wrests them from our hands,]
And bids us no* delight in Roman blood, |
Unprofitably shed. | Whai men could do, |
Is done already : | heaven, and earth will witness, |
If Rome must fall, | thai we are innocent |
Semp. This smooth discourse, and mild behaviour, I oft
Conceal a trartor | something whispers me
All is not righ^ I Cato, beware of Lucius. I
[Aside to Cato.
Cato. Let us be neither rash nor diffident |
Immod'rate valour swells into a fauli x ; 1
And fear, admitted into public councils, |
Betrays like treason. | Let us shun them both. |
Fathers, | I cannoi see that our affairs
Are grown thus desp'rate I we have bulwarks' 1
round us : j
Within our walls, are troops, inured to toil
In Afric's heai, I and season'd to the sun v |
Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind' us, |
Ready to rise at its young prince's call. |
; not prov'ur-dunce. b BAl'wftrks.
~38 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
While there is hope, I do not distrust the gods x ; j
But Mva.it. at leasZ, till Caesar's near approach |
Force' us to yield. | 'T will never be too late |
To sue for chains, | and own a conqueror. |
Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time v 1 \
No x , I let us draw her term of freedom out \
In its full length', | and spin it to the las^ j
So shall we gain still one* day's Ifberty : |
And let me perish, I but in Cato's judgment, |
A days I an hour', I of virtuous liberty, |
Is worth a whole eternity in bondage. |
[Enter MARCUS.]
Marc. Fathers, this moment, as I watch'd the gate, |
Lodg'd on my post, I a her'ald is arriv'd
From Caesar's cam// ; I and with Aim, comes old De'cius,|
The Roman knigl^ I he carries in his looks
Impatience, I and demands to spea& with Ca^to. |
Cato. By your permission, fathers j bid him enter. |
[Exit Marcus.
Decius was once my friend v ; | but other prospects
Have loos'd those ties, | and bound him fast to Caesar, j
His message may determine our resolves. |
[Enter DECIUS.]
Dec. Caesar sends health to Ca'to. |
Cato. Could he send it
To Cato's slaughter'd friends, I it would be welcome. |
Are not your orders to address the sen'ate ? |
Dec. My business is with Ca'to. | Caesar sees
The straits to which you 're driven ; | and, as he knows
Cato's high worth, I is anxious for your life. |
Cato. My life is grafted on the fate of Rome'. |
Would Ae save Cato, I bid him spare his country. |
Tell your dictator this v I and tell him too, I Cato
Disdains' a life I which he has power to offer. |
Dec. Rome, and her senators submit to Caesar ; )
Her generals, and her consuls are no more, |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 239
Who check W his conquests, I and denied his triumphs. |
Why will not Ca'to be this Caesar's friend ?
Cato. Those very reasons thou hast urg'd x , forbid if. |
Dec. Cato, I have orders to expostulate,
And reason with you, I as from friend to friendv ; I
Think on the storm that gathers o'er your head, ,
And threatens ev'ry hour to burs^ upon it ; \
Still may you stand high in your country's hon'ours, j
Do but comply, I and make your peace with Caesar, I
Rome will rejoice', ! and cast its eyes on Cato, |
As on the sec x ond of mankind.
Cato. No more' |
I must not think' of life on such conditions. |
Dec. Caesar is well acquainted with your virtues, |
And therefore sets this value on your life. |
Let him but know the price' of Cato's friendship, |
And name your terms. |
Cato. Bid Aim disband his le x gions, |
Restore the commonwealth to liberty, |
Submit his actions to the public censure, |
And stand the judgment of a Roman senate, j
Let him do this 1 , | and Cato is his friend. |
Dec. Cato, the world talks loud x ly of your wis'dom |
Cato. Nay, more* though Cato's voice | was ne'er
employ 'd
To clear the guilty, | and to varnish crimes, |
Myself will mount the rostrum in his faVour, |
And strive to gain his pardon from the people. |
Dec. A style like this becomes a con'queror. |
Cato. Decius, a style like this, becomes a Ro'man. |
Dec. What is a Roman , that is Caesar's foe x ?
Cato. Greater than Caesar : j he's a friend to virtue. |
Dec. Consider, Cato, you 're in ITtica. |
And at the head of your own little senate ; |
You don't now thunder in the Capitol, |
With all the mouths of Rome to second you. |
Cato. Le him consider tha, I who drives us hither. J
*T is Caesar's sword' has made Rome's senate little, I
240 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
And thinn'd its ranks. | Alas ! thy dazzled eye \
Beholds this man in a false glaring lighi, |
Which conquest, and success' have thrown upon Aim : |
Didsi thou bui view him right, \ thou 'dsi see him blacA
With murder, | treason, I sacrilege, | and crimes', |
Thai strike my soul with horror but to name v them, j
I know thou look'si on me, | as on a wretch |
Besei with ills, | and cover'd with misfortunes ; |
Bui n millions of worlds' |
Should never buy me I to be Me thai Csssar. |
Dec. Does Cato send this answer bacA; to Caesar, |
For all Ais generous cares, and proffer'd friendship ? \
Cato. His cares for me, are insoleni, and vain'. |
Presumptuous man ! I the gods' take care of Cato. |
Would Cassar show the greatness of 7ns soul, I
Lei him employ his care for these my friends' ; |
And make good use of his ill-gotten power, |
By sheltering men much better than Aimself. |
Dec. Your high unconquer'd heari | makes you forgei
You are a man. | You rush on your destruction. |
But I have done. | When I relaie hereafter ]
The tale of this unhappy embassy, |
All Rome , will be in tears. | [Exit.
Semp. Cato, we than&' thee. j
The mighty genius of immortal Rome', I
Speaks in thy voice : | thy soul breathes lib'erty. |
Caesar will shrin/r to hear the words thou utter'si, |
And shudder in the midsi of all Ms conquesis. |
Luc. The senate owes its gratitude to Cato |
Who, with so greai a soul, I consults its safety, j
And guards our v lives, I while he neglects Ais own. |
Semp. Sempronius gives no thanks on this* accouni. I
Lucius seems fond of life' ; | but whai is^ life ? |
'T is noi to stalk aboui, | and draw fresh air
From time to time, I or gaze upon the sun : |
'T is to be free'. I When liberty is gone, |
Life grows insipid, I and has losi its relish. I
O could my dying hand | bui lodge a sword
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 241
In Caesar's bosom, j and revenge my country, |
I could enjoy the pangs of deaths |
And smile in agony ! |
Luc. Others, perhaps, |
May serve their country with as warm a zeal, |
Though *t is not kindled into so much rage. |
Semp. This sober conduct | is a mighty virtue
In luke-warm patriots ! j
Cato. Come x no more', Sempronius, |
All here are friends to Rome, I and to each other )
Let us not weaken still the weaker side |
By our divisions. |
Semp. Cato, my resentments
Are sacrificed to Rome x 1 1 stand reprov'd. |
Cato. Fathers, 't is time you come to a resolve. |
Luc. Cato, we all go into your' opinion |
Cassar's behaviour has convinced the senate
We ought to hold it out till terms arrive. |
Semp. We ought to hold it out till death' I bu, Cato,|
My private voice is drown'd amidst the senate's. ] '
Cato. Then let us rises niy friends 7 , | and strive to fill
This little interval, I this pause of life, I
While yet our liberty, and fates are doubtful, |
With resolution, | friendship, | Roman bra Very, |
And all the virtues we can crowd in v to it, |
Thai heaven may say it ought to be prolonged, j
Fathers, farewell. | The young Numidian prince*
Comes forward, | and expects to know our counsels, j
THANATOPSIS.*
(W. C. BRYANT.)
To him who, in the love of Nature, | holds
Communion with Aer visible forms, I she speaks
A various language : | for his gayer hours, |
She has a voice of glad'ness, | and a smile,
* Thanatopsis (Greek), from thanatos, death, and opsis, sight
a view of death.
21 Q
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
And eloquence of beairty ; ] and she glides
Into his darker musings | with a mild
And gentle sympathy | that steals away
Their sharpness, | ere he is aware. |
When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour, I come like a blight
Over thy spirit ; ] and sad images*
Of the stern , agony, 6 | and shroud', | and pall', |
And breathless dark/ness, | and the narrow house', |
Make thee to shudder, | and grow sick at heart, |
Go forth under the open sky', | and list
To Nature's teachings, | while from all around |
Earth', and her wa'ters, ] and the depths of air' |
Comes a still voice\ !
Ye a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun | shall see no more' |
In all fas course^ ; I nor yet in the cold ground 1 , |
Where thy pale form | was laid with many tears,,
Nor in the embrace of o'cean, | shall exis
Thy image. ! Earth tha nourish'd thee, j shall claim
Thy growth | to be resolv'd to earth again^ ; |
And, lost each human trace, | surrendering up
Thine individual being, | shalt thou go |
To mix for ever with the elements, )
To be a brother to the insensible rock\ \
And to the sluggish clod x | which the rude swain |
Turns with fas share, | and treads upon. | The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, j and pierce thy mould. I
not to thy eternal resting-place, |
Shalt thou retire alone\ | nor coulds thou wish* |
Couch more magnificent | Thou shalZ lie down |
With patriarchs of the infant world | with kings*, |
The powerful of the earth | the wise x , | the good', |
Fair formsx, | and hoary seers' of ages pasP, \
All in one mighty sepulchre. |
a Sad images ; not sad-dim'a-ges. b Stern agony ; not stern-nag'
go-uj.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 243
The hills, |
Rock-ribb'd, and ancient as the sun' ; | the vales', |
Stretching in pensive quietness between* ; |
The venerable woods' ; | rivers thaZ move
In majesty, | and the tr complaining brooks' |
Tha make the meadows green* ; | and, pour'd round all j
Old ocean's grey, and melancholy waste', j
Are but the solemn decorations all', I
Of the greaJ tomb of man x . |
The golden sun*, |
The placets, | all the infinite host of heav'n, |
Are shining on the sad ( abodes a of death, |
Through the still lapse of ages. | All that tread
The glo&e , | are bu* , a handful 6 1 to the tribes
Tha slumber in its bosom. Take the wings
Of morn'ing, | and the Barcon dessert l pierce\, |
Or lose thyself in the continuous woods' |
Where rolls the Or'egon, | and hears no sound, |
Save ^is own dash\ings | yet the dead are there v ; [
And millions in those solitudes, | since first
The flight of years began, | have laid them down
In their las sleep* | the dead reign' there, alone v . |
So shalt thou' rest ] and \vha if thou shaU fall, |
Unno'ticed by the livdng ; and no friend
Take note' of thy departure ? | All tha* breathe
Will share thy destiny. | The gay will laugh
When thou ar gone ; | the solemn brood of care
Plod on', | and each one, as before, | will chase
His favourite phan*tom | ye all these | shall leave
Their mirth, and their employments, | and shall come,
And ma&e their bed with thee. |
As the long train
Of ages glides away, | the sons of men', |
The youth in life's green spring,, | and he who goes
In the full strength of years", | ma'tron and maid*, |
Sad abodes ; not sad'der-bodes. b But a handful ; not butter handful
244 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
The bow'd with age^, ] the inTan* | in the smiles
And beauty of its innocent age cut off, a |
Shall one by one | be gather'3 to thy side, \
By those who, in their turn, | shall follow them. I
So live, | tha when thy summons comes t | to join
The innumerable caravan I thai moves
To the pale realms of shade, [ where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death, I
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at nigh x , |
ScourgW to Ais dun x geon, j but, sustain'^, and sooth'd
By an unfaltering trust, \ approach thy grave, |
LiAe one who wraps the drapery of Ais couch
AbouZ AiTi, b | and lies down to pleasant dreams. 1
SPEECH OP CICERO AGAINST VERRES.
The time is come, fathers, I when that which has
long been wished for, | towards allaying the envy your
order has been subject to, | and removing the imputa-
tions against trials, | is effectually put into your power. |
An opinion has long prevailed, I not only here at home, j
but likewise in foreign countries, I both dangerous to
you, | and pernicious to the states | that, in prosecu-
tions, ! men of wealth are always safe', | however clearly
convicted. I
There is now to be brought upon his trial, before
you, I to the confusion, I hope, | of the propagators of
this slanderous imputation, I one whose life, and ac-
tions | condemn him in the opinion of all impartial per-
sons ; | but who, according to his own reckoning, | and
declared dependence upon his riches, I is already ac-
quitted : 1 1 mean Caius Verres. I
I demand justice of you, Fathers, I upon the robber
of the public treasury, I the oppressor of Asia Minor,
and PamphyHa, I the invader of the rights, and privi-
leges of Ro'mans, | the scourge, and curse of Srcily. |
Cut off; not cut-toff'. b About him ; not abow'tim. c F6r'rln.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 245
If that sentence is passed upon him, I which his crimes
deserve, I your authority, Fathers, j will be venerable,
ant/ sa'cred in the eyes of the public ; | but, if his great
riches should bias you in his favour, | I shall still gain
one x point, | to make it apparent to all the world, |
that what was wanting in this case, | was not a crimi-
nal, | nor a prosecutor; | but justice, and adequate
punishment. |
To pass over the shameful irregularities of his youth, |
what does his quaes'torship, | the first public employ-
ment he held, I what does it exhibit, I but one continued
scene of viHanies? I Cneius Carbo, 1 plundered of the
public money by his own treasurer, I a consul stripped,
and betrayed', | an army, deserted, and reduced to
want 1 , | a province, robbed, | the civil, and religious
rights of a people violated. |
The employment he held in Asia Minor, and Pam-
phyl'ia, I what did it produce but the nrin of those
countries, | in which houses, cities, and tenVples were
robbed^ by him ? | What was his conduct in his prae x -
torship here at home? I Let the plundered temples,
and public works neglects*/, | that he might embezzle
the money intended for carrying them on', I bear wit-
ness. | How did he discharge the office of a judge' ? |
Let those who suffered by his injus'tice, answer. |
But his praetorship in Srcily, | crowns air his works
of wickedness, I and finishes a lasting monument to his
infamy. | The mischiefs, done by him in that unhappy
country, I during the three years of his iniquitous ad-
ministration, | are such, that many years', I under the
wisest, and best' of praetors, | will not be sufficient to
restore things | to the condition in which he found x
them ; | for it is notorious, I that, during the time of his
tyranny, | the Sicilians neither enjoyed the protection
of their own original laws ; | of the regulations made
for their benefit by the Roman senate, I upon their
coming under the protection of the commonwealth ; }
nor of the natural, and unalienable rights of men. J
21*
246 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
His nocb | has decided all causes in Sicily | for these
three years. | And his decisions I have broken all law% |
all precedent, | all right. I The sums he has, by arbi-
trary taxes, |and unheard-of impositions, extorted from
the industrious poor, I are not to be computed. | The
most faithful allies of the commonwealth, | have been
treated as enemies. | Roman citizens, like slaves',
have been put to death with tortures. | The most
atrocious criminals I have been exempted, for money, |
from deserved punishments ; | and men, of the most
unexceptionable characters, | condemned, and banished,
unheard. |
The harbours, though sufficiently fortified, | and the
gates of strong towns', I have been opened to pirates,
and ravagers. | The soldiery, and sailors, | belonging
to a province under the protection of the commonwealth,!
have been starved to death ; | whole fleets v , | to the
great detriment of the prov'ince, suffered to perish, j
The ancient monuments | of either Sicilian, or Ro'man
greatness, I the statues of heroes, and prin v ces, | have
been carried off 1 ; | and the temples stripped of the
images. |
Having, by his iniquitous sentences, j filled the
prisons with the most industrious, and deserving of the
people, | he then proceeded to order numbers of Roman
citizens j to be strangled in the jaita ; I so that the excla-
mation, | " I am a citizen of Rome* !" | which has often,
in the most distant regions, | and among the most bar-
barous people, | been a protection, I was of no service
to them ; | but, on the contrary, | brought a speedier,
and more severe punishment upon them. |
I ask now, Verres, | what thou hast to advance*
against this charge? I Wilt thou pretend to deny' it? |
Wilt thou pretend that any thing false*. I that even any
thing aggravated, | has been urged against thee ? I Had
any princes I or any state', I committed the same out-
rage against the privilege of Roman citizens, | should
we not think we had sufficient ground for demanding
satisfaction? |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 247
What punishment ought, then, to be inflicted | upon
a tyrannical, and wicked praetor, I who dared, at no
greater distance than Srcily, 1 within sight of the Italian
coast', | to put to the infamous death of crucifixion, |
that unfortunate, and innocent citizen, I Publius Gavius
Cosa'nus, | only for his having asserted his privilege of
citizenship, I and declared his intention of appealing to
the justice of his country, j against the cruel oppressor j
who had unjustly confined him in prison at Syracuse, j
whence he had just made his escape? |
The unhappy man, | arrested as he was going to em-
bark for his native country, | is brought before the
wicked prastor. I With eyes darting fury, I and a coun-
tenance distorted with cruelty, I he orders the helpless
victim of his rage to be stripped*, | and rods' to be
brought | accusing him, | but without the least sha-
dow of evidence, I or even of suspicion, | of having come
to Sicily as a spy. I It was in vain that the unhappy
man cried out, | " I am a Roman citizen | I have
served under Lucius Pre'tius | who is now at Panor-
mus, | and will attest my innocence."
The blood-thirsty praetor, | deaf to all he could urge
in his own defence, I ordered the infamous punishment
to be inflicted. I Thus, Fathers, I was an innocent Ro-
man citizen I publicly mangled with scourging; | while
the only words he uttered, | amidst his cruel sufferings,
were, | " I am a Roman citizen !" I With these t he
hoped to defend himself I from violence, and infamy. |
But of so little service was this privilege to him, | that,
while he was thus asserting his citizenship, | the order
was given for his execution, I for his execution upon
the crossx ! |
O liberty ! | O sound once delightful to every Ro
man ear ! | O sacred privilege of Roman citizen-
ship ! | once' sacred ! | now tranvpled upon ! |
But what them ! | Is it come to this' ? I Shall an infe-
rior magistrate, I a governor, | who holds his whole
power of the Roman people, | in a Roman province, j
248 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
within sight of Italy, j bind, scourge, torture with fire,
and red hot plates of iron, I ana 7 at last put to the infa-
mous death of the cross, | a Roman citizen ? | Shall
neither the cries of innocence expiring in ag^ony, 1 nor
the tears of pitying spectators, I nor the majesty of the
Roman conVmonwealth, ! nor the fear of the justice of
his counvtry, restrain the licentious, and wanton cruelty
of a monster , | who, in confidence of his riches, | strikes
at the root of liberty, | and sets mankind at defrance ?
I conclude with expressing my hopes, I that your
wisdom, and justice, Fathers, | will not, by suffering the
atrocious, and unexampled insolence of Caius Verres j
to escape due punishment, I leave room to apprehend
the danger of a total subversion of authority, | and the
introduction of general anarchy, and confusion, j
CATO'S SOLILOQUY.
(ADDISON.)
SCENE CATO sitting in a thoughtful posture, with Plato's book
on the Immortality of the Soul in his hand ; and a drawn sword
on the table by him.
It mus^ be so I Plato, thou reasonesZ well ! |
Else whence this pleasing hopes I this fond desire*, |
This longing after immortality 1 \
Or whence this secret dread, | and inward horror, |
Of falling into nought ? I why shrinks the soul |
BacA; on herself, | and star'tles at destruction ? |
'T is the divin-ity thai stirs within us; I
*T is heaven itself I thai points out an hereafter, |
And intimates eter\nity to man. j
Eternity ! j thou pleas'ing, dreadvful thought ! 1
Through whai variety of untried beting, ]
Through whai new scenes, and changes must we pass v ! J
The wide', the unbounded prospect lies before me ; j
But shad'ows, clouds', and darkness res^ upon it. \
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 249
Here will I holrf . ] If there 's a power above us, |
Anc? thai there is | all nature cries alouc?
Through all her works, | he must delighi in virtue ; |
Anc? thai which he delights in, I musi be happy. |
Bui when* ! | or where x ! I this work? was made for
Caesar. |
1 'm weary of conjectures I this musi end, them. |
[Laying his hand on his sword.
Thus am I doubly arm'd: I my death, anc? life*, |
My bane', anc? an x tidoie | are both before me : )
This in a moment brings me to an end* ; |
Bui this informs me I shall never die*. !
The soul, secures? in 7*er existence, | smiles
At the drawn dagger, | anc? defies its point. \
The stars shall fade away*, | the sun Aimself
Grow dim with age x , I anc? nature sink in years x ; |
Bui thou shali flourish in immortal youth', |
Unhuri amidst the war of el'ements, |
The wrecA of mat'ter, | anc? the crush of worlds^. |
HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY.
(SHAKSPEARE.)
To be, or noi' to be | thai' is the question : \
Whether 't is nobler in the mind | to suffer
The slings, anc? arrows of outrageous fortune ; |
Or to take arms againsi a sea of troubles, |
Anc?, by opposing, end* them? | To die' to sleep* |
No more* | anc?, by a sleep, | to say we end
The heart-ache, j anc? the thousanc? natural shocks |
Thai flesh is heir to : | 't is a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. |
To die 7 to sleep* |
To sleep'/ 1 perchance to dreanr | ay, there 's the ru6 ; |
For, in thai sleep of death, | whai dreams may come, j
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, a
a Stir, bustle.
'-J50 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION
MusZ give us pause v . | There 's the respect |
Tha makes calamity of so long life' : |
For who would bear the whips, and scorns of time*, j
The oppressor's wrongv, | the proud man's contumely , b j
The pangs of despised lovev, | the law's delay v , |
The insolence of office, | and the spurns/
Tha patient meri of the unworthy takes, |
When he Aimself might his quietus ma&e |
With a bare bodvkin ? c |
Who would fardels d bear, |
To groan, and sweaZ under a weary life, |
But that the dread of something after death |
^ThaZ undiscover'd country from whose bourn 6
No traveller returnsx), 2 puzzles the will ; |
And makes us rather bear those ills we have x , |
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 greaZ pith, and moment, |
With this regard, I their currents turn awry v , I
And lose the name of action. I
BRUTUS* ORATION ON THE DEATH OF CAESAR.
(SHAKSPEARE.)
Ro'mans, coun'trymen, and lov\ers ! | hear me for
my causes I and be si'lenZ | that you may v hear. | Be-
lieve me for mine hon^our f ; ! and have respect unto
mine honour j tha you may v believe. | Censure me in
your wisdom ; and awa&e your sen'ses | thai you may
the better judge. |
Consideration. b K6n'tu-me-lfe, rudeness. c The ancient term
for a small dagger. d Packs, burdens. e B6rn, boundary, limit.
Mine honour ; not mine-non'nur.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. -251
If there be any in this assembly, | any dear friend ol
Caesar's, | to him I say | thai Bru'tus' love to Caesar, j
was no less than his. | If, then, thai friend demand J
why Brutus rose against Caesar, j this is my answer : I
Noi that I loved Caesar , less, 11 | but that I loved Rome ,
more. | Had you rather Caesar were living, I and die
all slaves', I than thai Caesar were dead, | and live all
free'men ? |
As Caesar loved me, | I weepv for him ; | as he was
fortunate, 1 1 rejoice' at it ; \ as he was valiani, | I hon--
our him ; I bui, as he was ambitious, 1 1 slew* him. \
There are tears' for Ms love*, I joy' for his for 'tune, |
hon'our for Ais valour, I and death for his ambition. |
Who is here so base thai [he] b would be a bondx-
man? | If any, I speaA;*; I for him have I offended. |
Who is here so rude I thai [he] would noi be a Ro x man? j
If any, I spea.L ; | for hinv have I offended. I Who is here
so vile | thai [he] will noi love his country 1 \ If any, |
speaks* | for him' have I offended. | I pause for a
reply. |
None' ! I Then none v have I offended. | I have done
no more to Caesar, | than you should do to Brutus. |
The question of his death I is enrolled in the Ca'pitol; j
his glory noi extenuated, | wherein he was worthy ; j
nor his offences enforced', | for which he suffered
death. |
Here comes Ais body, I mourned by MarA: An\tony |
who, though he had no hand in his death, shall re-
ceive the ben'efii of his dying, | a place in the conv-
monwealth : I as which of you' shall noi ? \ With this,
I depart : | Thai, as I slew my besi lover for the good
of Rome, I I have the same dagger for myself, | when
it shall please my country | to need* my death. |
Caesar less; not Cce'sar-less. b The words in brackets are not
in the original ; they are introduced to make the language good
English.
252 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
ANTONY'S ORATION OVER CAESAR'S PODY.
(SHAKSPEARE.)
Friends', Ro'mans, countrymen! 1 lend me your ears, j
I come to buVy Caesar, I not to praise* him. j
The evil thai men do, | lives after them ; |
The good | is oft interred with their bonesx : |
So let it be with Caesar. I The noble Brutus
Hath told you, | Caesar was ambitious. |
If ii were so, lit was a grievous faul^ ; |
And grievously hath Ccesar anvswer'd it. \
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the resi, I
(For Brutus is an honourable man; |
So are they all, | all honourable men) j
Come I | to spea/c in Caesar's funeral. |
He was my friendv, | faithful, and jusi v to me. |
Bui Brutus ( says, he was ambitious ; |
And Brutus is an honourable man. |
He hath brought many cap'tives home to Rome, |
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : |
Did this in Caesar seem ambi'tious ? |
When that the poor have cried, I Caesar hath weptf. J
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. |
Yei Brutus says, he was x ambitious ; |
And Brutus is an honourable man. ]
You all did see I thai, on the Lupercal, a |
I thrice presented him a kingly crown\ |
Which he did thrice refuse. I Was this x ambition ? |
Yei Brutus says, he was ambitious ; |
And Brutus is an honourable man. |
I speak not to disprove whai Brutus spoAe ; |
Bui here I am to speaA; whai I do know. |
You all did love him once, | noi without cause*, |
Whai cause withholds you then to mourn x for Aim ? I
O judgment/ j thou ari fled to brutish beasis v ; |
* Lupercalia, solemn sacrifices, and plays, dedicated to Pan, kept
the 15th of February. CICERO.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 253
And men have \ost their reason ! I Bear with me ; |
My heart is in the coffin there with Cosvsar ; |
And I must pause till it come bacfc to me. |
Bu yesterday, I the word of Caesar ( might
Have stood against the world' : I now lies he there' ; |
And none so poor a to do him reverence. |
masters 1 | if I were disposed | to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, |
1 should do Brutus wrong v , | and Cas'sius wrong, j
Who, you all know, I are honourable men. |
I will not do thenr wrong ; | I rather choose
To wrong the dead', | to wrong myself, and you', |
Than I will wrong such honourable men. |
"But here's a parch'mentf, | with the seal of Caesar, j
I found it in his clos'eZ : j 't is his will. |
Le but the commons hear this testament ; |
(Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) |
And they would go, and kiss dead Caesar's wounds*, j
And dijo their napkins in his sacred blood* ; |
Yea, beg a hair of Aim for memory, |
And, dying, mention it within their
Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy,
Unto their issue. |
If you have tears, | prepare to shed them now. |
You all do know this mangle : 1 1 remember
The first time ever Caesar put it on v ; |
'T was on a summer's eve'ning, | in his tent\ : |
Thai day he overcame the NerVii b |
Loo/r! | in this place, ran Cassius' dag-ger through: |
See wha a rent the envious Cas v ca , made : [
Through this, | the well-beloved Bru'tus ( stabb'd> ; |
And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, |
MarA how the blood of Caesar follow'd it ! \
This was the mosZ unkindesi cut of all ; |
For when the noble Caesar saw him sta6, |
The meanest man is now too high to do reverence to Caesar.
JOHNSON.
22
254 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Ingratitude, I more strong than traitor's arms, |
Quite van v quish'd him. \
Then burs* 7is mighty heariv/j
And, in Ais mantle muffling up his face, |
E'en ai the base of Pompey's statue, I
(Which all the while ran blood /) greai Caesar fell. |
O whai a fall was there', my countrymen ! |
Then I y , | and you\ | and alb of us, fell down*, |
Whilst bloody treason flourished 1 over us. |
now you weep; | and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity. I These are gra v cious drops. I
Kind, souls ! | whai v / | weep you when you but behold
Our Caesar's ves'ture wounded ? \ Loo/: you here v ! |
Here is Aimself , I marr'd, as you see, by traitors. |
Good x friends, | sweei x friends ! I lei me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny |
They that have done x this deed, j are honourable ! |
Whai private griefs they have, I alas ! I know noi, |
Thai made' them do it | they are wise and honourable: I
And will, no doubi, with reasons answer you ! |
1 come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : |
I am no orator, as Brutus is ; |
Bui, as you know me all, I a plain, bluni man, I
Thai love my friend x ; I and thai they know full weir, |
Thai gave me public leave to speaA; of him. |
For I have neither wii', nor words', nor worths |
Ac'tion, nor utterance, I nor power of speech', |
To stir men's bloodv : 1 1 only spea& righi oir. |
I tell you thai which you yourselves^ do know\ ; |
Show you sweei Caesar's wounds', I poor, poor, dumb
mouths*, j
And bid them speak for me. 1 Bui, were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, | there were an Antony |
Would ruffle up your spirits, I and put a tongue
In every wound of Caesar, | thai should move
The stones' of Rome I to rise in mutiny. |
* That is, flourished the sword. STEEVENS.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 255
WOMAN.
(R. H. TOWNSEND.)
Sylph of the blue, and beaming eye ! j
The Muses' fondest wreaths are thine* |
The youthful heart beats warm, and high, |
And joys to own thy power divine^ ! |
Thou shines* o'er the flowery path |
Of youth ; I and all is pleasure there ! I
Thou soothes* man, | whene'er he hath |
An eye of gloonv I a brow of care ( . |
To youth, thou art the early morns |
With " ligh*, and melody, and song*," |
To gild his path' ; each scene adorn', |
And swiftly speed Ais time along v . |
To man, thou art the gift of HeaV'n, |
A boon from regions brigh* above*;
His lo*, how dar/r, | had ne'er been giv'n |
To him the ligh* of woman's love t ! I
When o'er Ais dark'ning brow, | the storm |
Is gath'ring in its power, and migh*', |
The radian* beam of woman's form', |
Shines through the cloud', and all is ligh*' ! }
When dire disease prepares her wrath |
To pour in terror from above', |
How gleams upon his gloomy path', I
The glowing ligh* of woman's lovev ! |
When all around is clear, and bright, |
And pleasure lends her faires* charm* ; |
And man, enraptur'd with deligh*', |
Feels, as he views, Ais bosom warm 1 , I
Why glows Ais breas* with joy profuse 1 , j
And all Ais deeds, Ais rap'ture prove* ? ]
It is, because the scene Ae views']
Through the brigh* rays of woman's love v ! ;
256 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
O woman ! | thine is still the power, |
Denied to all but on v ly thee, |
To chase away the clouds tha* lower ( |
To harass life's eventful sea v . |
Thou ligh* of man^ ! | his on'ly joy , |
Beneath a wide, and boundless skyv, |
Long shall thy praise fas tongue ( employ,
Sylph of the blue, and beaming eye v ! I
ODE ON THE PASSIONS.
(COLLINS.)
When Music, heavenly maid, was young, |
Ere ye* in early Greece* she sung, |
The Passions oft, to hear her shell, |
Throng'd around her magic cell, |
Exulting, | trembling, | ranging, | fainHng, |
Possess'd beyond the Muse's painting. |
By turns they felt the glowing mind |
Disturb'ds I delighted, | rais'ds | refinU ; j
Till once, 't is said, when alb were fired, |
FilPd with fu'ry, | rap^, | inspir'd^ |
From the supporting myrtles round', |
They snatch'd her instruments of sound* ; j
And, as they oft had heard, apart, |
SweeZ lessons of her forceful art, |
Each (for Madness rul'd the hour) |
Would prove his own expressive power. |
First, Fear, | his hand, its skill to try, |
Amid the chords, bewilder'd, laid, |
And back recoil 'd, | he knew not why*, |
E'en at the sound himself* had made. |
Nex, An'ger rush'd x ; | his eyes on fire, |
In lightnings own'd Ais secret stingSv ; |
In one rude clash, he struck the lyre', |
And swepZ, with hurried hand, the stringy. [
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 257
With wo x ful measures, wan Despair, |
Low sullen sounds Ais grief beguil'dx ; |
A solemn', strange', and mirrgl'd air : |
'T was sad by fits ; I by starts, 't was wild, |
But thou, O Hope ! with eyes so fair, |
WhaZ was thy x delighted measure ? J
Still it whisper'd promised pleasure, |
And bade the lovely scenes a* distance hail ! j
Still would her touch the strain prolong' ; |
And, from the rocks', | the woods', I the vales |
She call'd on echo still, through all the song^ : j
And, where her sweetest theme she chose, |
A soft, responsive voice was heard at every close* ; |
And Hope, enchanted, | smil'd, and wav'dAer golden hair.)
And lon'ger had she sung; | bu, with a frown, |
Revenges impatient, rose^ : |
He threw his blood-stain'd sword in thunder down |
And with a withering loo/c, |
The war-denouncing trunVpe^ tooA;, |
And blew a bias* so loud, and dread, |
Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of wo ;
And ever, and anon, he beat \
The doubling drum with furious hea& : |
And, though, sometimes, each dreary pause between, |
Dejected Pity, at his side, I
Her soul-subduing voice, applied; |
Yef still he kept his wild, unalter'd mien, |
While each strain'd ball of sigh*, seem'd bursting
from his head. |
Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought, were fix'd |
Sad proof of thy distressful state ! j
Of differing themes the veering song was mix'd* ; ]
And now if courted Love x ; I now, raving, call'd on
Hate . |
With eyes, uprais'd, as one inspired, \
Pale Melancholy sa retir'd* ; j
22* R
258 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
And, from ^er wild, sequester'*/ sea^, |
In notes by distance made more swee, |
Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul;
And, dashing soft from rocks around, ]
Bubbling runnels join'd the soundx ; |
Through glades, and glooms, the mingl'd measure stole,)
Or, o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay, j
Round a holy calm diffusing, |
Love of peace, and lonely musing, |
In hollow murmurs, died away. |
But, O ! how alter'd was its spright'lier tone, |
When Cheerfulness, | a nymph of healthiest hue, |
Her bow across ^er shoulder flung, |
Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, |
Blew an inspiring air, | that dale and thicket rung*,|
The hunter's call', I to fawn and dryad known. I
The oak-crown'd sisters, and their chaste-ey'd queen 1 , |
Satyrs, and sylvan boys' were seen, |
Peeping from forth their alleys greeih |
Brown Exercise rejoic'd* to hear ; |
And Sport leap'd up, and seiz'd his beechen spear. 1
Las came Joy's* ecstatic trial |
He, with viny crown advancing, |
Yirst to the lively pipe, his hand addressed; |
Bu soon 7/e saw the bris&, awakening vrol I
Whose svseet, entrancing voice he lov'd the besL. I
They would /mve thought, who heard the strain,
They saw in Tempo's vale her native maids, |
Amidst the festal-sounding shades |
To some unwearied minstrel dan'cing, |
While, as 7ns flying fingers kiss'd the strings, |
Love fram'd with Mirth, a gay, fantastic round* ; |
Loose w r ere Aer tresses seen, I her zone, unbound ; |
And he, amidst the frolic play, |
As if he would the charming air repay', |
Shoo/* thousand odours from his dewy wings v . ;
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 259
SPEECH OF PATRICK HENRY.
Mr. Pres v iden | It is natural to man to indulge
in the illusions of hope. We are ap to shut our eyes
against a painful truth, | and listen to the song of tha
syren I till she transforms us into beasts. I Is this the
part of wise men, I engaged in a greatf, and arduous
struggle for lib'erty ? I Are we disposed to be of the
number of those who, having eyes, see no^, | and having
ears, hear not | the things which so nearly concern their
temporal salvation? | For my part, I whatever an-
guish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the
whole v truth to know the wors x , I and to provide*
for i*. |
I have but one lamp by which my x fee* are guided ; ]
and that is the lamp of experience. I I know of no way
of judging of the future, ! but by the pas^ : | and, judg-
ing by the pas, 1 1 wish to know | wha there has been
in the conduct of the British ministry | for the last ten
years' | to justify those hopes | with which gentlemen
have been pleased to solace themselves, and the house\? |
Is it that insidious smile ! with w r hich our petition has
been lately received' ? \ Trust it nofr, sir j it will
prove a snare to your fee v : | suffer not yourselves to be
betrayed with a kiss. |
Ask yourselves | how this gracious reception of our
petition, | comports with those warli/re preparations |
which cover our waters, | and darken our land. | Are
fleets, and armies I necessary to a work of love, and
reconcilia'tkm ? | Have we shown ourselves so unwil-
ling to be reconciled, | that force must be called in I to
win bacA; our love' ? | Le us no* deceive* ourselves,
sir : | these are the implements of wars I and subjuga'-
tion | the las* arguments 1 to which kings resort. |
I asA: gentlemen, sir, | wha* means' this martial ar-
ray | if its purpose be not to force us to submission ? |
Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? [
260 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Has Great Britain* any enemy in this quarter of the
work/ | to call for all this accumulation of navies, and
armies ? I No x , sir, 1 she has none'. | They are mean*
for us v : | they can be meani for no other. | They are
sent over to bind, and rivet upon us | those chains
which the British ministry have been so long forging. :
And what have we to oppose' to them ? I Shall we try
ar'gumeni ? \ Sir, | we have' been trying that I for the
last ten years*. I Have we any thing new to offer upon
the subject ? \ Nothing. ] We have held the subject
up 1 in every lighi of which it is ca'pable ; | but it has
been all in vain. |
Shall we resort to entreaty, and humble supplica'-
tion? | What terms shall we find, which have not
been already exhausted ? b \ Lei us noi, I beseech you,
sir, | deceive ourselves longer. | Sir, | W 7 e have done
every thing thai could' be done J to avert the storm
which is now coming on. | We have petitioned ; | we
have remon'strated ; | we have supplicated ; | we have
prostrated ourselves before the throne 1 , 1 and have im-
plored its interposition I to arresi the tyrannical hands
of the ministry, and parliament | Our petitions have
been sligh'ted; | our remonstrances I have produced
additional violence, and in'suli ; | our supplications have
been disregarded ; I and we have been spurned with
contempt, I from the foot of the throne. I
In vain, after these things, I may we indulge the fond
hope of peace, and reconciliation. I There is no
longer any room^ for hope. I If we wish to be free, | if
we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privi-
leges | for which we have been so long contending, | if
we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle | in
which we have been so long engaged, | 'and which we
have pledged ourselves nev<er to abandon I until the
glorious object of our contest shall be obtained', 1 2 we
must fight ! \ I repeat ii, sir, I we must fight ! \ An
appeal to arms, i l and to the God of Hosis, 1 2 is all that
is left us. |
* Brlt'in ; not Brlfn. b EgS-hist'fid ; not &
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 261
They tell us, sir, I tha* we are wea& x , I unable to
cope with so formidable an adversary. I Bu when
shall we be strong er ? I Will it be the nex weefc j
or the next year' ? | Will it be when we are totally
disarmed ; | and when a British guard shall be stationed
in every house* ? I Shall we gather strength by irreso-
lution, and inac'tion? I Shall we acquire the means of
effectual resistance I by lying supinely on our backs, |
and hugging the delusive phantom of hope I until our
enemies shall have bound us hand, and foot' ? \ Sir, |
we are no<* weaA; I if we ma&e a proper use of those
means | which the God of nature hath placed in our
power. |
4 Three millions of people, 1 3 armed in the holy cause
of liberty, I 2 and in such a country as tha which we
possess, | 4 are inviiVcible | under any force which our
enemy can send against us. I 2 Besides, sir, I we shall
not fight our battles alone* : | 'there is a jus Godx | who
presides over the destinies of nations ; 1 2 and who will
raise up friends' | to fight our battles for us. The bat-
tle, sir, | is not to the strong alone\ ; I it is to the vig*i-
lant, | the ac'tive, I the brave ( . | Besides, sir, | we have
no election. | If we were base enough to desire* it, \ it
is now too late to retire from the contest. | There is
no retread I but in submission, and slavery. | Oar chains
are forged I their clanking may be heard on the
plains of Boston. I The war is inevitable ; I and let it
come ! | I repeat it, sir I let it come ! ! |
It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. | Gentle-
men may cry peace ! peace ! | but there is. no peace. |
The war is actually begun* ! | The next gale that
sweeps from the north, | will bring to our ears the
clash of resounding arms\ ! I Our brethren are already
in the field. ! | Why stand we here idle ? | What is it
ihnt gentlemen wish* ? | What would they have* ? I Is
life so dear, I or peace so swee, ! as to be purchased at
the price of chains, and sla'very?^ I I know not wha
course ottrers may ta&e ; | but, as for me, | give me
liberty, | or give me death^ ! j
262 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
HYMN TO THE DEITY ON A REVIEW OF THE SEASONS
(THOMSON.)
These, as they change, | Almighty Father, | these
Are but the varied God. I The rolling year
Is fulb of thee. | Forth in the pleasing Spring |
Thy beau'ty walks, | thy tenderness and love. |
Wide flush the fields' ; I the soft'ning air is balm* ; |
Echo the mountains round v ; | the forest smiles* ; |
And ev'ry sense', 1 and ev'ry hear^ is joy. |
Then comes thy glo'ry I in the Sunrmer months, |
With light, and heat refulgent | Then thy sun |
Shoots Sill perfection through the swelling yean ; |
And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder, speaks ; |
And oft at dawn', j deep noon', I or falling eve', |
By brooks, and groves, | in hollow-whisp'ring gales.
Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfin'd% |
And spreads a common feast for all tha lives. |
In Winter, aw v ful thou ! I with clouds, and storms
Around x thee thrown, I tempest o'er tempest roll'd x , |
Majestic darkness ! | on the whirlwind's wing, |
Riding sublime, I thou bids the world adore'; j
And humblest Nature with thy northern blas^. |
Mysterious round / | wha skill*, j what force divine ,
Deep felt, | in these, appear* ! I a simple train, |
Ye so delightful mix'd, I with such kind art,* |
Such beauty, and beneficence combin'd v : |
Shade, unperceiv'd, so soft'ning into shade', |
And all so forming an harmonious whole', j
That, as they still succeed, they rav'ish still. |
BuZ, wand'ring oft, with brute unconscious gaze, |
Man marks not thee x , I marks not the mighty hand, |
That, ever busy, | wheels the silent spheres^, j
Kind art ; not kine dart. b Sl'l&nt ; not silunt.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 263
Works in the secret deep', | shoots, steaming, thence, I
The fair profusion thai o'erspreads the springv, |
Flings from the sun direct 11 the flaming days |
Feeds ev'ry crea'ture, I hurls the tenrpesi forth ; |
And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, |
With transport, touches all the springs of life. |
Nature, attend / | join ev'ry living soul,
Beneath the spacious temple of the sky', |
In adoration, join, | and ardent raise
One general song ! | To him, ye vocal gales, |
Breathe soft*; |\vhose spirit in your fresh\ness breathes :J
O tal/c of him in solitary glooms^ ! |
Where, o'er the roc&, | the scarcely waving pine |
Fills the brown shade with a religious awe. c |
And ye whose bolder note is heard afar', |
Who sha/re the astonish'd worldv, 1 lift high to heaven
The impetuous song v , | and say from whom you rage, j
His praise, ye brooks x , attune/ | ye trembling rilta, |
And let me catch it as I muse along. I
Ye headlong tor'rents, | rapid, and profound* ; |
Ye softer floods | thai lead the humid maze
Along the vale 1 , I and thou, majestic main v , 1
A secret world of wonders in thyself, |
Sound Ms stupendous praise, | whose greater voice, ;
Or bids you roar', 1 or bids your roarings fal! 4 . |
Soft roll your in x cense,|herbs/,and fruits', and flow'rs*, \
In mingled clouds to him | whose sun exalts' ; |
Whose breath perfumes^ you ; I and whose pencil
paints^. |
Ye forests, bendx ; I ye harvests, wave x to him ; |
Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart', I
As home he goes beneath the joyous moonv. |
a De-r&ct'. b Ar'dfent ; not ardunt. c Religious awe ; not reli'
gious-saw. d Brooks attune ; not brooks'sur-tune.
264 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Ye that keep watch in heav'n', | as earth asleep
Unconscious lies, | effuse your mildest beamsv, |
Ye constellations? | while your angels stri/ce, j
Amid the spangled sky, \ the silver lyre v . I
Grea source of day' ! | best image here below,
Of thy Creator, | ever pouring wide,
From world to world, | the vital ocean roundv, |
On Nature write with ev'ry beanr, his praise. |
Ye thunders, roll' ; I be hush'd the prostrate worldx, |
While cloud to cloud returns^ the solemn hymn. |
BleaJ out afresh, ye hills'; I ye mossy rocks,
Retain^ the sound ; | the broad responsive low,
Ye valleys, raise | for the Grea* Shepherd reigns* ;
And his unsuffering kingdom jet will come v . |
Ye woodlands, a all, awa&e' ! | a boundless song
Bursi from the grovesv ; | and, when the restless day,
Expiring, | lays the warbling world asleep, |
Sweetest of birdss | sweet Philomela, i charm
The listening shades', | and teach the nighi' fas praise.
Ye chief, | for whom the whole crea'tion smilesv, |
At once the heads the heart', the tongue x of all, |
Crown' the grea hymn. | In swarming cities vas, |
Assembled men, | to the deep organ, b | join
The long-resounding voices | oft breaking clear,
At solemn pauses, | through the swelling bassx ; |
And, as each mingling flame increases each, |
In one united ardour, rise to heaven.
Or, if you rather choose the rural shade, |
And find a fane in ev'ry sacred grove, |
There let the shepherd's flutes I the virgin's lay*, I
The prompting ser'aph, | and the poet's lyres |
Still sing the God of Seasons as they roll. |
For me, when I forgeZ the darling theme, |
Whether the blossom blowsv, I the summer ray
Russets the plain', | inspiring autumn gleamss |
* Wud'landi ; not wood'luns. b Deep organ ; not dee-por'gan.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 265
! Or winter rises in the blackening eas^, |
8 Be my tongue mutes \ rny fancy pain* no more*,
And, dead to joy, I forge* my heart to bea* x / 1
Should fate command me to the farthest verge
Of the green earth', a | to distant barb'rous climes x ]
Rivers unknown to songv, | where firs* the sun
Gilds Indian mountains, | or Ais setting beam
Flames on the Atlantic isles\. | 't is nought to me, |
Since God is ever pres*en*, | ever fel* N , |
In the void was*e | as in the city full ; |
And where he vital breathes, ! there must be joy. j
When e'en at las* the solemn hour shall come, |
And wing my mystic flight to future worlds', |
I cheerful will obey v ; | there, with new pow'rs j
Will rising wonders sing v : 1 1 canno* go |
Where Universal Love smiles no* around, |
Sustaining all yon orbs, b | and all their sunsv ; |
From seeming evil still educing good v , |
And better thence again N , 1 and better stuT, |
In infinite progresvsion. | Bu* I lose
Myself in Hinv, \ in Ligh* ineffable ! |
Come then, expressive SHence, | muse His praise. |
(DIMOND.)
lii slumbers of mid\nigh, the sai v lor-boy lay; |
His hammocA; swung loose at the spor* of the wind x ; |
Bu*, watch- worn, and weary, his cares flew away ; |
And visions of happiness danc'd o'er his mind v . |
He dream'd of his home*, | of Ais dear native bowers, |
And pleasures tha* waited on life's' merry morn\ ; |
While Memory stood side wise, half cover'd with flowers,|
And restor'd ev'ry rose 7 , | bu* secreted its thorn v . |
* Green earth ; not gree-nearth'. b Yon orbs ; not yon-norbs
23
266 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Then Faircy, Aer magical pinions spread wide*, \
And bade the young dreamer in ecstasy rise v |
Now far, far behind Aim, the green waters glide 1 ; 1
And the cot of Ais forefathers, blesses Ais eyes v . |
The jessamine clambers in flower o'er the thatch ; j
And the swallow sings swee^from Aernest in the wall ;
All trembling with transport, he raises the latch' ; |
And the voices of lov'd' ones reply to Ais calL. j
A father bends o'er him with looks of delight; |
His chee& is impearl'd with a mother's warm tear* ; j
And the lips of the boy in a love-kiss, unite' |
With the lips of the maid whom Ais bosom holds dear x .|
The heart of the sleeper beats high in Ais breast ; |
Joy quickens Ais pulse v | all hardships seem o'erx ; j
And a murmur of happiness steals through Ais res^ |
Kind Fate, thou hast bless'd x me II as&for no more v .)
Ah! | wha is tha flame which now bursts on Ais eyej |
Ah ! | wha is tha sound which now larums Ais ear 1 ? j
'T ib the lightning's red glare, painting hell on the sky! |
'T is the crashing of thun'ders,|the groan of the sphereJ
He springs from Ais hanrmock | he flies to the decA^ |
Amazement confronts Aim with images dire x |
Wild winds, and mad waves drive the vessel a wrecA; x |
The maste fly in splinters | the shrouds are on fire ! j
LiAe mountains the billows tremendously swelL |
In vain the lost wretch calls on Mercy to save* ; j
Unseen hands of spirits, are ringing Ais knelb ;
And the death-angel flaps Aj broad wing o'er the
O sailor-boy ! wo to thy dream of delight / |
In darkness dissolves the gay frost-wor/c of bliss 1 . |
Where now is the picture tha Fancy touch'd bright,
Thy parents' fond pressure, I and love's honied kiss.?
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 267
O sai'lor-boy ! sai'lor-boy ! | never again', |
Shall home', love', or kin v dred, thy wishes repay v ; |
Unbless'd, and unhon v our'd, | down deep in the main', |
Full many a score fath'om, | thy frame shall decay x . |
No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee x , |
Or redeem form', or frame' from the merciless surgev ; |
But the white foam of waves, shall thy winding-shee be',|
And winds, in the midnight of winder, thy dirge x ! |
On beds of green sea x -flow T ers, thy limbs shall be laid; |
Around thy white bones, the red coral shall grow ; |
Of thy fair yellow locks, threads of anYber be made ; |
And ev'ry part sui to thy mansion below^. |
Days/, months', years', and a v ges shall circle away; |
And still the vas waters above v thee shall roll |
Earth loses thy pattern for ever, and aye\ : |
O sai/lor-boy ! sai'lor-boy ! peace to thy soul ! ]
GOD.
[From the Russian Anthology.]
(DERZHAVIN.)
O THOU eter'nal One ! i whose presence bright j
All space doth oc'cupy, | all motion guide\ ; |
Unchang'd through time's all-devastating flight; |
Thou on'ly God / | There is no God beside x ! |
Being above all* beings ! | Miglrty One ! |
Whom none can comprehend, | and none explore' ; |
Who fill's^ existence with thyself alone* : |
Embracing alb | supporting | ruling o'er |
Being whom we call Godv I and know no more v ! \
In its sublime research, I philosophy
May measure out the o cean-deep | may count
The sands% | or the sun's rays' | buZ, God / | for thee
There is no weight, nor measure : | none can mounZ
Up to thy mysteries. 1 Reason's brightest spar/;, ]
268 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Though kindled by thy ligh, | in vain would try
To trace thy counsels, I infinite, and dark, ; \
And thought is los' | ere thought can soar so higlr,
E'en like pas moments in etennity. |
Thou from primeval nothingness, | didsZ call' |
FirsZ cha v os, I then existence | Lord, on thee
Eternity had its foundation: | all
Sprung forth from theex : | of ligh^, I joy', | harmony, |
Sole or\igin : I all life', | all beau v ty t thine, j
Thy word created alls | and doth' create ; j
Thy splendour fills all space with rays divine. |
Thou art', | and wer', | and shal^ be! I Glorious! |
Life'-giving, I life-sustairring Potentate* ! |
Thy chains the unmeasur'd universe surround: |
Upheld' by thee, | by thee inspir'd with breath* : |
Thou the beginning with the end' has* bound, |
And beautifully mingled life, and death v ! I
As sparks mounZ upwards from the fiery blazes \
So suns' are born ; | so worlds' spring forth from theev
And, as the spangles in the sunny rays i
Shine round the silver snows | the pageantry b
Of heaven's bright army, ! glitters in thy praise. 1
A million torches, lighted by thy hand, |
Wander unwearied through the blue abyssv : |
They own thy pow s er, | accomplish thy command', |
All gay with lifes | all eloquent with bliss x . |
P6'tn-tite ; not p6'tn-tte.
c " The force of this simile," says Bowring, in his Specimens of
the Russian Poets, " can hardly be imagined by those who have
never witnessed the sun shining, with unclouded splendour, in a
cold of twenty or thirty degrees of Reaumur. A thousand, and ten
thousand sparkling stars of ice, brighter than the brightest diamond,
play on the surface of the frozen snow; and the slightest breeze sets
myriads of icy atoms in motion, whose glancing light, and beauti
ful rainbow hues, dazzle and weary the eye."
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Wha* shall we call' them ? | Piles of crystal ligh*', J
A glorious company of golden streams', |
Lamps of celestial e'ther, | burning bright |
Suns', lighting systems with their joyous beams* ? |
Bu thou to these art as the noon to nigh x . |
Yes', as a drop of water in the sea\ |
All this magnificence in thee is los^ ! |
What are ten thousand worlds' compared to thee* ? |
And what am T then ? I Heaven's unnumber'd host, j
Though multiplied by myr'iads, | and array'd
In all the glory of sublimes^ thought. |
Is but an at om a in the balance, I weigh'd
Against thy greatness | is a cypher brought
Against infinity ! | Wha am T then ? Nought / |
Nought/ Bu the effluence of thy ligh* divine, |
Pervading worlds, j hath reach'd my bo'som too ; |
Yes' ! in my spirit doth thy spirit shine, |
As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew. I
Nought / | but I live, and on hope's pinions fly |
Eager towards thy presence ; ! for in thee
I live', I and breathe', i and dwell' ; | aspiring high*, |
E'en to the throne of thy divinity.
I am, O God/ | and surely thou mus be ! I
Thou art' / | directing, guiding all\, I thou art' / |
Direct my understanding, then, to theex ; |
Control my spirit, | guide my wandering heart : j
Though but an at v om a midst immensity, |
Still I am something fashion'd by thy hand / |
I hold a mid'dle ra.nk 'twix^ heaven, and earth', J
On the last verge of mortal being stand', |
Close to the realms where an'gels have their birth, |
JusZ on the boundaries of the spirat-land /
The chain of being is complete' in me, j
f n me is matter's lasZ gradation losZv ; |
" But an atom ; not but-ter-nat'tom.
23*
270 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
And the nex step is spirit | Deaty ! |
[ can command the lightening, j and am dust, ! \
A mon'arch, and a slave* ; | a worm', | a God v / |
Whence came x I here ? I and how so marvellously
Constructed, and conceiv'dv ? \ unknown v . | This clod
Lives surely through some higher energy ; |
For, from itself alone, | it could not be ! |
Creator, yes\ ! I thy wisdom, and thy word x
Created me ! ! Thou source of life, and goodv / |
Thou spirit of my spirit, I and my Lord x / |
Thy ligh^, I thy Jove x , I in their bright plenitude, |
Fill'd me with an immortal soul I to spring
O'er the abyss of death, | and bade it wear
The garments of eternal days I and wing
Its heavenly flight | beyond this little sphere, |
E'en to its source\ | to thee* I its Author there, j
O thoughts ineffable ! | O visions bles v / |
Though worthless, our conceptions all of thee 7 ; |
Ye shall thy shadow'd image fill our breast, |
And waft its homage to thy Deity. |
God, thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar* ; |
Thus seek thy presence, | Being wise, and good / |
Midsi thy vast works admire', | obey', I adore x ; |
And, when the tongue is eloquent no more, |
The soul shall speaA; in tears of gratitude. |
WITHOUT GOD IN THE WORLD.
(REV. ROBERT HALL.)
The exclusion of a Supreme Being, | and of a super-
/ntending providence, 11 I tends directly to the destruc-
tion of moral taste. I It robs the universe of all finished,
and consummate excellence, | even in idea. I The ad-
miration of perfect wisdom, and goodness I for which
we are formed, I and which kindles such unspeakable
" Pr6v'e-dns ; not provurdunce.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 271
rapture in the soul, I finding in the regions of scepti-
cism I nothing to which \t corresponds, | droops, and
languishes. | In a work? which presents a fair spec-
tacle a of order, and beauty, I of a vasZ family, nourished,
and supported by an Almighty Parent ! in a world
which leads the devout mind, step by step, | to the con-
templation of the first fair, and the firs good, I the scep-
tic is encompassed with nothing but obscurity, mean-
ness, and disorder. |
When we reflect on the manner in which the idea
of Deity is formed, | we must be convinced j tha such
an idea intimately present to the mind, I mus* have a
most powerful effect I in refining the moral taste. | Com-
posed of the richest elements, h |it embraces in the char-
acter of a beneficent Parent, I and Almighty Ruler, |
whatever is venerable in wis v dom, | whatever is awful
in authority, I whatever is touching in goodness, j
Human excellence is blended with many imperfec-
tions, | and seen under many limitations, j It is beheld
only in detached, and separate portions, | nor ever ap-
pears in any one character, whole, and entire. | So
that, when, in imitation of the Stoics, 1 we wish to form
out of these fragments, i the notion of a perfectly wise,
and good man, | we know it is a mere fiction of the
mind\ I without any real being in whom it is embodied,
and realized. I In the belief of a Deity, i these concep-
tions are reduced to reaHty | the scattered rays of
an ideal excellence, are concentrated, | and become the
real attributes of that Being i with whom we stand in
the nearest relation I who sits supreme at the head
of the universe, ! is armed with infinite pow er, i and
pervades all nature with his presence. I
The efficacy of these sentiments, | in producing, and
augmenting a virtuous taste, | will indeed be propor-
tioned to the vividness with which they are formed', :
and the frequency with which they recur\ ; | jet some
' Sp&k'td-kl. b El'-mnts; not elurmunts. c P&'rnt.
272 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
benefit will not fail to result from them | even in their
lowest degree. |
The idea of the Supreme Being, | has this' peculiar
property I that, as it admits of no substitute, I so,
from the first moment it is impressed, | it is .capable of
continual growth, and enlargement I God Aimself is
immutable ; 1 but our conception of his character, | is
continually receiving fresh accessions, | is continu-
ally growing more extended and reful'genZ, | by having
transferred upon it \ new perceptions of beauty, and
goodness ; | by attracting to itself, as a centre, | what-
ever bears the impress of dig'nity, or'der, or happiness, j
It borrows splendour from all that is fain, j subordi-
nates to itself all that is grea^, I and sits enthroned on
the riches of the universe. |
THE THREE WARNINGS.
(MRS. THRALE.)
The tree of deepest root, is found |
"Least willing still to quit the ground* ; |
'T was therefore said by ancient sages, |
Tha love of life increas'd with years |
So much, I that, in our latter stages, |
When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages, |
The greatest love of life appears . |
This grea* affection to believe, |
Which all confess, | but few perceive, |
If old assertions can't prevail, j
Be pleas'd to hear a modern tale x . |
When sports wen round, and all were gay, j
On neighbour Dodson's wedding-day, ]
Death call'd aside the jocund groom |
With him, into another roonr ; |
And looking grave I " You musZ," says he, \
"Quit your sweet bride', I and come with me/'
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 273
' With you' ! I and quit my Susan's side' ! |
With you'!" | 'the hapless husband cried/;]
2 " Young as I am, 't is monstrous hard* / 1
Beside, in truth, I 'in not prepar'd* : |
My thoughts on oth'er matters go ; |
This is my wedding-day, you know." |
What more he urg'd, I have no* heard*, |
His reasons could not well be stronger ; |
So Death the poor delinquent spar'dx, |
And left to live a little longer. |
Ye, calling up a serious IOO/D |
('His hour-glass trembled while he spo&ex) |
2 " Neighbour," he said, I " farewell. | No more i
Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour* ; j
And farther, I to avoid all blame |
Of cruelty upon my name, |
To give you time for preparation, |
And fit you for your future station, |
Three several warnings you shall have, |
Before you 're summon'd to the grave v . |
Willing for once, I '11 quiz my prey, |
And gran* a kind reprieve\, |
In hopes you '11 have no more to say* ; j
Bu, when I call again* this way, |
Well pleas'd the world will leave/' |
To these conditions both consented/)
And parted perfectly contended. |
What nex the hero of our tale befell, |
How long he liv'd v , | how wise x , I how well, |
How roundly he pursued his course, |
And smok'd his pipe', I and strok'd his horse', I
The willing muse shall telh : I
He chaf fer'd then, | he bought, | he soldx, !
Nor once perceiv'd* 7iis growing old', I
Nor thought of Death as near^ ; |
His friends not false', I his wife no shrew, |
Many his gains', | his children few/, |
274 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
He pass'd 7tis hours in peace,. |
Bu, while he view'd his wealth increase, j
While thus along Life's dusty road, |
The beaten tracA: contend he trod, \
O\d Time, | whose haste no mortal spares, |
Uncall'd', | unheeded, | unawares^,
Brought on his eightieth year x . |
And now, one nigttf, | in musing mood, \
As all alone he sate, \
The unwelcome messenger of Fate, |
Once more before him stood. \
Half kill'd with anger, and surprise, |
"So soon return'd'!" I 'old Dodson cries/, |
2 " So soon, d'ye call it?" I 'Death replies,: |
3 " Surely, my friend, | you 're but in jes2'/ a |
Since I was here before |
'T is six-and-thirty years' ( at leas, b |
And you are. now fourscore.")
" So much the worse'," | 'the clown rejoin'dv, j
2 " To spare the aged would be kind' : j
However, see your search be le'gal ; |
And your authority | is 't re'gal ? !
Else you are come on a fool's' errand, |
With but a secretary's warrant |
Beside', you promis'd me Three Warnings |
Which I have look'd for nights, and moorings!
BuZ, for thai loss of time, and ease, |
I can recover danrages." |
I know," cries Death, | " that, at the
I seldom am a wel'come guest; |
Bu donV be captious, friend, at leas*' : |
I little thought you'd still be able |
To stump abouZ your farm 7 , and stable ; |
Your years have run to a greaZ length' ; |
I wish you joy, though, of your strength* !" j
But in jest ; not button jest. b Years at least ; not years'at-least.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 275
" Hold'," says the farmer, I " no* so fas*> / |
I have been lame these four years pasi." |
" And no greai won'der," I Death replies* : |
" However, you still keep your eyes' ; '[
And sure, to see one's loves, and friends, |
For legs, and arms, would mae amends." |
" Perhaps," says Dodson, " so it migh^, |
Bui latterly, I Ve losi my sigh*,." |
" This is a shocking tale, 't is true, |
Bui still there 's comfort left 1 for you : |
Each strives your sadness to amuse |
I warrant you hear all the news." |
" There 's none'," cries he ; I " and, if there were, |
I *m grown so deaf, I could noi hear." I
" Nay x , then," | the spectre stern rejoin'd*, |
" These are unjustifiable yearnings ; |
If you are Lame', and Deaf, and Blind', |
You 've had' your Three sufficient Warnings. 1
So, come along', no more* we '11 part ;" 1
He said, | and touch'd him with Ais dart. |
And now, old Dodson turning pale, |
Yields to Ais fate* | so ends my tale v . \
THE CHAMELEON ; OR, PERTINACITY EXPOSED.
(MERRICK.)
Oft has it been my lot to mar& |
A proud, conceited, talking spar^, |
With eyes thai hardly serv'd at mos v , |
To guard their master 'gainsi a posi ( ; |
Yei round the world the blade has been, |
To see whatever could be seen* : |
Returning from his finish'd tour, |
Grown ten times perter than before x ; |
Whatever word you chance to drop, |
The traveled fool your mouth will stop* : |
276 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
" Sir, if my judgment you '11 allow |
I 've seen | and sure I ough to know." |
So, begs you 'd pay a due submission, |
And acquiesce in his decisaon. |
Two travellers of such a cas, |
As o'er Arabia's wilds they pass'd, |
And on their way, in friendly cha, |
Now talk'd of this', and then of thaZ', |
Discours'd a while, 'mongs other matter, |
Of the Chameleon's fornr, | and nature. |
"A stranger animal," cries one, |
" Sure never liv'd beneath the sum ! |
A lizard's body, | lean, and long*, |
A fish's heads I a serpent's tongue*, |
Its foot with triple claw disjoin'd j
And wha a length of tail' behind / |
How slow , its pace* ! | and then ( its hue v j
Who ever saw so fine a blue v ?" |
"Hold x there," I the other quick replies*, |
" 'T is green' I I saw i* with these eyes', |
As late with open mouth, it lay, |
And warm'd it in the sunny ray*; |
Stretch'J at its eases the beas I view'd', |
And saw it ea the air for food x ." I
" I 've seen i, friend, as well as you x , |
And mus^ again affirm it blue*. |
A^ leisure, I the beas survey'^', |
Extended in the cooling shade/' |
" 'T is green', 't is green', I can assure* ye." 1
" Green' !" | ! cries the other in a fury/ |
2 " Whys do you thin& I 've lost my eyes' ?" |
" 'T were no grea^ loss," the friend replies/, :
" For, if they always serve you thus', j
You'll find them bu* of little use/' |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 277
So high at las* the contest rose', |
From words they almost came to blowsv : |
When luckily came by, a third* |
To him the question they referr'dv; |
And begg'd he 'd tell them, if Ae knew, |
Whether the thing was green, or blue . |
" Sirs," cries the umpire, | " cease your pother; |
The creature's neither one nor t'other. |
I caught the animal las* nigh*, |
And view'd it o'er by can N dle-ligh* : |
I mark'd i* well | 't was blacfc as je** }
You stare | bu* I have got \t ye*', |
And can produce' it." \ " Pray then do* ; |
For I am sure the thing is blue*." |
" And I 'IP engage I tha* when you 've seen |
The reptile, I you '11 pronounce him green." |
" Well then, a* once to end the doub*," |
Replies the man, | " I '11 turn Aim ouA ; |
And, when before your eyes I've se* him, \
If you don'* find him blacfc, I I '11 ea*' Aim." I
He said* ; i then full before their sigh*, j
Product the beas* x , | an d lo ! 't was whi*e t ! j
Both stared x : | the man look'd wondrous wise |
"My children," | Hhe chameleon cries, j
(Then firs* the creature found a tongue) |
2 " You all are righ*, I and all are wrong* : |
When nex* you tal/u of wha* you view, j
ThinA others see as well as you x : |
Nor wonder if you find tha* none/ , |
Prefers your eye-sigh* to Ais own t ." |
24
278 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
THE INVOCATION.
[Written after the death of a sister-in-law. J
(MRS. HEMANS.)
Answer me, burning stars of night 1 ! \
Where hath the spirk gone, |
Tha, past the reach of human sighz, |
E'en as a breeze, hath flown*? |
And the stars answerW me, | "We roll
In ligh, and power on high* ; |
Butt of the never-dying soul', |
AsA; things that cannot die x I" |
O many-toned, and chainless wind x / |
Thou art a wanderer free 1 , | s n
Tell me if thou its place canst nnd' t \
Far over moun, and sea, 1 \
And the wind. murmur's? in reply, - \
11 The blue deep I have cross'd', |
And met its barks, and billows higlv, |
Bu not \\hat thou has* los v /" |
Ye clouds tha gorgeously repose |
Around the setting suns |
An'swer ! | have ye a home for those |
Whose earthly race is run'? |
The bright clouds answer'^, | " We depart, |
We van'ish from the skyv; |
AsA; wha* is deathless in thy hear^, |
For tha* which cannof die v !" |
SpeaA:, then, thou voice of God within* ! I
Thou of the deep low tone v ! |
An swer me ! I through life's restless din', |
Where hath the spirit flown? |
And the voice answer 5 ^, | "Be thou still! |
Enough to know is giv^'n; |
Clouds, winds, and stars their task fulfil, |
Thine is to trus in Heav/n I" I
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 279
HAPPY FREEDOM OF THE MAN WHOM GRACE MAKES FREE.
(COWPER.)
He is the freeman, whom the truth* makes free ; |
And all are slaves beside. | There 's not a chain |
That hellish foes, confederate for his harm, |
Can wine? around Aim, ! but he caste it off j
With as much ease as Samson Ais green withes. |
He looks abroad into the varied field
Of nature, j and, though poor, perhaps, j compared
With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, \
Calls the delightful scenery all Ais own. |
His are the mountains ; I and the vaHeys his ; |
And the resplendent riv'ers : | his to enjoy |
With a propriety thai none can feel, |
Bui who, with filial confidence inspired, I
Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, |
And, smiling, say, | " My Father made them all !" ;
Are they not his by a peculiar
And by an emphasis of in'teresi his,
Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy, |
Whose heart with praise', | and whose exalted mind
With worthy thoughts of thai unwearied love |
Thai planned, and buili, ! and still upholds a world j
So clothed with beauty, for rebellious
Yes* | ye may fill your ganners, | ye thai
The loaded soil*, | and ye may wasie much good
In senseless ri.oi ; I bui ye will noi find
In feasi', I or in the chase*, I in song', or dance', j
A liberty like his, I who, unimpeach'd
Of usurpation, I and to no man's wrong, |
Appropriaies nature as Ais Father's wor&, |
And has a richer use of yours than you. I
He is indeed* a freeman : I free by birth*
Of no mean city, I plann'd or ere the hills*
280 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Were built, | the fountains o^pen'd, | or the sea' I
With all his roaring multitude of waves. I
His freedom is the same in ev^ry state ; |
And no condition of this changeful life, |
So manifold in cares, | whose ev'ry day
Brings its own evil with it, \ makes it less^ ; |
For he has wings | thai neither sickness', pain',
Nor pen N ury | can cripple, or confine* : |
No nook so narrow | bui he spreads them there
With ease v , I and is at large* : | the oppressor holds
His body bound, | but knows not whai a range
His spirit ta&es, | unconscious of a chain* ; I
And thai to bind him, | is a vain attempt, j
Whom God delights in, | and in whom he dwells/ 1
THE EXILE OF ERIN.
(CAMPBELL.)
There came to the beach, a poor exile of E x rin ; |
The dew on his thin ro&e, was heavy, and chill ; j
For his country he sigh'd when at twilight repairing, J
To wander alone by the wind-beaten hilh |
But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion ; |
For it rose on his own native isle of the ocean, |
Wheve once, in the fervour of youth's warm emotion, |
He sung the bold anthem of Erin go bragh. |
Sad is my fate ! (said the heart-broken stranger) |
The wild-deer, and wolf to a covert can flee ; |
Bui I have no refuge from famine, and dagger : |
A home, and a country remain not to me 4 j
Never again in the green sunny bowers, |
Where my forefathers liv'd, I shall I spend the swee*
hourss |
Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers, ]
And stride to the numbers of Erin go bragh t ! ]
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 281
Erin, my country ! | though sad, and forsaken, |
In dreams' I revisit thy sea-beaten shore ; |
Bui, alas ! in a far foreign land, I awaken, |
And sigh for the friends thai can meet me no more t . |
O cruel fate ! I wili thou never replace me j
In a mansion of peace I where no perils can chase' me? j
Never again shall my brothers embrace^ me, |
They died to defend me, | or live to deplore, ! j
Where is my cab v in-door, | fast by the wildv wood ? \
Sisters, and sire, did ye weep for its fall' ? |
Where is the mother thai look'd on my child v hood ? \
And where is the bosom-friend, dearer than all. ? |
O my sad soul ! long abandon'd by pleasure, |
Why did it dote on a fasi-fading treasure ! |
Tears, like the rain'-drops, may fall withoui measure; j
Bui rapture, and beauty they caimoi recall^, j
Yei all its fond recollections suppressing, |
One dying wish my lone bosom shall draw* : |
Erin ! an exile bequeaths thee fas blessing ! |
Land of my forefathers ! I Erin go braghx ! |
Buried, and cold, when my heari stills Aer motion, |
Green be thy fields, sweetesi isle of the o'cean ! \
And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with devotion |
Erin ma vournin ! | Erin go bragh t !* |
THE BURIAL OP SIR JOHN MOORE, WHO FELL AT THE
BATTLE OF CORUNNA.
(WOLFE.)
Noi a drum was heard, nor a funeral noies |
As Ais corse to the rampari we hurried ; I
Noi a soldier discharg'd his farewell shoi x |
O'er the grave where our hero we buried. |
* Ireland my darling ! Ireland for ever !
24*
*2 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
We buried Mm darkly ai dead of nighi x , I
The sods with our bayonets turning, I
By the struggling moonbeam's misty lighf, |
And the lantern dimly burning. |
No useless coffin enclos'd fas breast, j
Nor in sheei, nor in shroud, we bound* him ; |
Bui he lay like a warrior taking his rest, \
With Ais martial cloa/c around Aim. |
Few, and shori were the prayers we said; |
And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; |
Bui we steadfastly gaz'd on the face of the dead; |
And we bitterly thoughi of the morrow. |
We thought, as we hallow'd Ais narrow bed, |
And smooth'd down Ais lonely pillow,
Thai the foe, and the stranger would tread o'er %is
head ; |
And we far away on the billow. |
Lightly they '11 tal& of the spirit that *s gone, |
And o'er Ais cold ashes upbraid Aim ; |
Bui nothing he '11 reck, if they let him sleep on |
In the grave where a Briton has laid Aim. |
Bui half of our heavy tas& was done, |
When the clocA; told the hour for retiring ; |
And we knew by the distant, and random gun, |
Thai the foe was sullenly firing. |
Slowly, and sadly we laid Aim down |
From the field of Ais fame, fresh, and gory : |
We carv'd not a line*, | we rais'd not a stone*, |
Bui left him alone in Ais glory. |
THE HEAVENS AND THE EARTH SHOW THE GLORY AND
THE WISDOM OF THEIR CREATOR. THE EARTH HAP-
PILY ADAPTED TO THE NATURE OF MAN.
(GOLDSMITH.)
The universe may be considered I as the palace in
which the De v ity resides ; | and the earth, as one of its
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 283
apartments. I In this, all the meaner races of animated
nature I mechanically obey x him ; I and stand ready to
execute his commands without hesitation. | Man alone
is found refractory: | he is the only being, I endued
with a power of contradicting these mandates, i The
Deity was pleased to exert superior power I in creating
him a superior be v ing; I a being endued with a choice
of good, and e v vil ; | and capable, in some measure, | of
co-operating with his own intentions. | Man, there-
fore, | may be considered as a limited creature, | en-
dued with powers, I imitative of those residing in the
Deity. I He is thrown into a world tha stands in need
of his help x ; I and he has been granted a power I of pro-
ducing harmony from partial confusion. !
If, therefore, we consider the earth | as allotted for
our habitation, | we shall find, that much has been
given us to enjoy, ! and much to amend* ; i that we have
ample reasons for our gratitude, | and many for our in-
dustry. | In those great outlines of nature, I to which
lit cannot reach, | and where our greatest efforts must
nave been ineffectual, | God himself has finished every
thing | with amazing grandeur, and beauty. I Our
beneficent Father | has considered these parts of nature
as peculiarly his own* ; | as parts which no creature |
could have skill, or strength to amend^ ; | and he has,
therefore, made them incapable of alteration, I or of
more perfect regularity. | The heavens, and the firma-
ment | show the wisdom, and the glory of the Work-
man. | Astronomers, who are best skilled in the sym-
metry of systems, | can find nothing there tha* they can
alter for the better. ! God made these perfect, I be-
cause no subordinate being | could correct their defects.
When, therefore, | we survey nature on this side, |
nothing can be more splendid, more correct, or amaz-
ing. | We there behold a Deity | residing in the midst
of a universe, I infinitely extended ev'ery way, I animat-
ing all, I and cheering the vacuity with his presence. |
We behold an immense, and shapeless mass of matter, j
234 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
%
formed into worlds by his power, I and dispersed a* in-
tervals, | to which even the imagination cannoZ travel. I
In this grea* theatre of fas glory, I a thousand suns,
like our own, | animate their respective systems, | ap-
pearing, and vanishing &t Divine command. | We be-
hold our own bright luminary, i fixed in the centre of
its system, I wheeling its planets in times proportioned
to their distances, | and ait once dispensing ligh, heat,
and action. 1 The earth also is seen with its twofold
motion ; I producing by the one, the change of seasons ; |
and, by the other, the grateful vicissitudes of day, and
nigh*. I With what silent magnificence is all this per-
formedv / j with wha seeming ease v ! I The works of
art are exerted with interrupted force; | and their
noisy progress discovers the obstructions they receive. ; |
but the earth, with a silent, steady rotation, | succes-
sively presents every part of its bosom to the sun- ; | at
once imbibing nourishment, and Yight | from that parent
of vegetation, and fertility. |
Bu not only provisions of hea, and ligh^ are thus
supplied ; | the whole surface of the earth is covered
with a transparent atmosphere | thaZ turns with its
motion, | and guards it from external injury. | The
rays of the sun are thus broken into a genial warmtlr; |
and, while the surface is assisted, | a gentle heaZ is pro-
duced in the bowels of the earth, | which contributes to
cover it with verdure. | Waters also are supplied in
healthful abundance, | to support life, and assist vegeta-
tion. | Mountains rise to diversify the prospect, I and
give a current to the stream. | Seas extend from one
continent to the other, | replenished with animals tha
may be turned to human support; | and also serving to
enrich the earth with a sufficiency of vapour. | Breezes
fly along the surface of the fields, | to promote health,
and vegetation. I The coolness of the evening invites
to res*' ; | and the freshness of the morning renews for
labour. )
Such are the delights of the habitation I tha* has been
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 28ft
assigned to man* : | without any one of these, | he must
have been wretched ; | and none of these | could h is
own industry have supplied. | Bui while, on the one
hand, | many of Ais wants are thus kindly furnished, |
there are, on the other, | numberless inconveniences to
excise Ais industry. I This habitation, I though provided
with all the conveniences of air, pasturage, and water, |
is but a desert place, without human cultivation. I The
lowesi an'imal finds more conveniences in the wilds of
nature, I than he who boasis himself their lord. | The
whirlwind, the inundation, and all the asperities of the
air, | are peculiarly terrible to man, I who knows their
consequences, | and, at a distance, dreads their ap-
proach. | The earth itself, I where human art has noi
pervaded, I puts on a frightful, gloomy appearance. |
The forests are dar&, and tangled ; | the meadows are
overgrown with rank weeds' ; | and the brooks stray
withoui a determined channel. I Nature, thai has baen
kind to every lower order of beings, | seems to have
been neglectful with regard to him* : | to the savage
uncontriving man, | the earth is an abode of desolation, |
where Ais shelter is insufficient, | and Ais food preca-
rious. |
A world, thus furnished with advantages on one side, |
and inconveniences on the other, I is the proper abode
of reason, | and the fittest to exercise the industry | of
a free, and a thinking creature. These evils, which
art can remedy, and prescience a guard againsi, | are
a proper call for the exertion of Ais faculties ; I and
they tend still more | to assimilate Aim to Ais Creator. |
God beholds, with pleasure, 1 thai being which Ae has
made, | converting the wretchedness of Ais natural situa-
tion | into a theatre of trrumph ; | bringing all the head-
long tribes of nature I into subjection to Ais wilL ; I and
producing thai order, and uniformity upon earth, |
of which his own heavenly fabric is so brighi an ex-
ample. |
286 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
CHARACTER OF PITT.
( ROBERTSON.)
The secretary stood alone, : | modern degeneracy had
not reached him. \ Original, and unaccommodating, |
the features of Ms character, had the hardihood of an-
tiquity. | His august mind over-awed majesty ;) and
one of his sovereigns' 1 I thought royalty so impaired in
his presence, I thai he conspired to remove him \ in order
to be relieved from 7iis superiority. | No state chica'-
nery, b | no narrow system of vicious politics, I no idle
contest for ministerial victories, I sunk him to the vul-
gar level of the great,; | but over-bearing, persuasive,
and impracticable, 1 his object was England, I his am-
bition was fame^. |
Without dividing, he destroyed^ party ; I without cor-
rupting, he made a venal age unanimous. France
sunA: beneath him. \ With one hand he smote the house
of Bourbon, | and wielded in the other, the democracy
of England, j The sigh* of his mind was infinite ; I and
his schemes were to affect, j not England, not the pre-
sent age only, | but Europe, and posterity. | Wonder-
ful were the means by which these schemes were ac-
complished | always seasonable, I always adequate, |
the suggestions of an understanding | animated by ar-
dour, | and enlightened by prophecy. |
The ordinary feelings which make life amiable, and
indolent, | were unknown^ to him. \ No domestic diffi-
culties, | no domestic weakness reached him] \ but f
aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, | and unsul-
lied by its intercourse, | he came occasionally into our
system, | to counsel, and to decide. |
A character so exalted, | so strenuous, I so various, |
so authoritative, 1 astonished a corrupt age I and the
treasury trembled at the name of Pitt \ through all her
classes of venality. I Corruption imagined, indeed, |
* Sftv'er-lni. b Sh-ki'nftr-r. c Untractable.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 297
thai she had found defects' in this statesman, 1 and
talked much of the inconsistency of his glory, | and
much of the ruin of his victories; | but the history of
Ais country, | and the calamities of the enemy, | an-
swered, and refuted Aer. |
Nor were //is political abilities Ais only talents: | his
eloquence was an era in the senate, I peculiar, and
spontaneous, | familiarly expressing gigantic sentiments,]
and instinctive wis^dom ; i noi like the torrent of De-
mosthenes, | or the splendid conflagration of TuHy ; | it
resembled sometimes the thunder, 1 and sometimes the
music of the spheres. | Li&e Murray, I he did noi con-
duct the understanding | through the painful subtlety
of argumentation ; | nor was Ae, like Townshend, | for
ever on the racJt of exertion ; I but rather lightened
upon the subject, | and reached the poini by the flash-
ings of the mind', | which, like those of Ais eye, | were
felt, but could no* be followed. |
Upon the whole, I there was in this man something
thai would create', | subvert', or refornv ; | an under-
standing, | a spirit, I and an eloquence, I to summon
mankind to society, | or to break the bonds of slavery
asun v der, | something to rule the wilderness of free
minds I with unbounded authority; | something that
could establish, I or overwhelm* empire, | and stride a
blow in the World, | thai should resound through the
universe. |
CLARENCE'S DREAM.
(SHAKSPEARE.)
SCENE A Room in the Tower of London.
[Enter CLARENCE and BRACKENBURY.]
Brack. Why looks your grace so heaVily to-day ? |
Clar. O I have pass'd a miserable nighiv, |
So full of fearful dreams, I of ugly sights, |
Thai, as I am a Christian faithful man, |
288 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
I would not spend another such a nighi, |
Though 't were to buy a work? of happy days* : |
So full of dismal terror was the time x . |
Brack. Whai was v your dream, my lord'? \ I pray
you, tell x me. |
Clar. Methoughi that I had broken from the tow'er, )
And had embark'd to cross to Burgundy; |
And, in my company, my brother Glos v ter, |
Who from my cabin, | tempted me to walA;
Upon the hatches ; | thence we look'd toward England , |
And cited up a thousand heavy times, |
During the wars of Yor&, and Lancaster, |
Thai had befallen us. I As we pac'd along
Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, j
Methoughi that Gloster stunrbled, I and, in falling,
Struck me I thai thought to stay him, \ oVer-board |
Into the tumbling billows of the main. |
O methoughi whai pain it was to drowiix ! |
Whai dreadful noise of water in mine ears' ! a I
Whai sights of ugly death within mine eyes* ! b I
Methoughi I saw a thousand fearful wrecks', |
A thousand men x that fishes gnaw'd* upon, |
Wedges of gold', | greai anchors, I heaps of pearl , I
Inestimable stones^ I unvalued jew v els, |
All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea^. |
^ome lay in dead men's skulls. ; I 2 and, in those holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, | there were crepi,
(As 't were in scorn of eyes) | reflecting gems v |
Thai woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, |
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. |
Brock. Had you such leisure in the time of death, j
To gaze upon these secrets of the deep' ? \
Clar. Methoughi I had v ; ! and often did I strive
To yield the ghosiv/ | but still the envious flood
Kepi in my soul, | and would not let it forth |
To seek the empty, vast, and wand'ring ain, |
Bui smother'd it within my panting bulA;, |
Which almost bu?-si to belch it in the sea. I
Mine ears ; not mine-nears. b Mine eyes ; not mine-nize.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Brack Awak'd you not with this sore ag'ony ? |
Clar. O no , ! my dream was lengthened after life* ; |
then began the tempest to my soul* : |
1 pass'd, methoughi, the melancholy flood |
With thai grim ferryman which poets write of, |
Unto the kingdom of perpetual nighi. |
The firs* that there did greet my stranger soul, I
Was my great fa'ther-in-law, I renowned Warwick, |
Who cried aloud, I " Whai scourge for perjury |
Can this dark monarchy I afford false Clarence?" |
And so ^ he vanished, i Then came wand'ring by !
A shadow like an an'gel, I with bright hair
Dabbled in blood*; I and he shriek'd out aloud, |
" Clar'ence is come, | falses fleet'ing, perjur'd Clarence!
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewks x bury ; I
Seize on him, fuVies, | take him to your torments !" |
With thai, methoughi a legion of foul fiends
Envrron'd me, | and howled in mine ears
Such hideous cries,) thai, with the very noise', |
I trembling wak'ds | and, for a season after, I
Could noi believe bui that I was in helK, |
Such terrible impression made my dream v . )
Brack. No marvel, lord, that it affrighted you J
I am afraid, methinks, to hear you tell it. |
Clar. O Brackenbury, I have done these things |
Thai now give evidence againsi my soul, |
For Ed v ward's sake ; I and, see how he requites me ! j
I pray thee, gentle keeper, I stay by x me |
My soul is heav\y, I and I fain would sleep v . !
Brack. I will, my lord. | [clareilce reposes * iffiself on a chair '
Sorrow breaks seasons, and repo\sing hours, |
Makes the nighi morning, | and the noon-tide nighi. v J
Princes have but their titles for their glo x ries |
An outward honour for an inward toil ; |
And, for unfeli imaginations, |
They often feel a world of restless caresx : |
So thai, between their titles, I and low name, j
There *s nothing differs I but the outward fame . J
25 T
290 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
TO THE URSA MAJOR.
(H. WARE, JUN.)
With whai a stately, and majestic step |
Thai glorious constellation of the north ]
Treads its eternal circle ! | going forth
Its princely way amongst the stars 1 in slow,
And silent brightness. | Mighty one, all-hail' ! I
I joy to see thee, on thy glowing path, |
WalA: like some stoui, and girded grani | stern,
Unwearied, res oluie, I whose toiling fooi
Disdains to loiter on its destined way. ]
The other tribes forsake their midnight tracA;, )
And rest their weary orbs beneath the wave x ;
Bui thou dosi never close thy burning eye, |
Nor stay thy steadfast step. I Rut on,, \ still on% |
While systems change, | and suns retire, I and worlds
Slumber, and wake, | thy ceaseless march proceeds. |
The near horizon tempos to rest in vain. |
Thou, faithful sentinel, | dosi never quit
Thy long-appointed watch ; i bui, sleepless still, ]
Dosi guard the fix'd light of the universe, |
And bid the north for ever know its place, j
Ages have witness'd thy devoted trusi, ]
Unchang'd, unchanging. | When the sons of God |
Seni forth that shoui of joy, ! which rang thro' heaven, j
And echoed from the outer spheres thai bound
The illimitable universe, | thy voice
Join'd the high chorus ; | from thy radiant orbs |
The glad cry sounded, I swelling to his praise, |
Who thus had cast another sparkling gem, |
Little, but beautiful, | amid the crowd
Of splendours | thai enrich his firmameni. |
As thou art now I so wast thou then x , the same, j
Ages have roll'd their course ; | and time grown greyx; J
The seas have chang'd their beds' ; | the eternal hills
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 291
Have stoop'd with age* ; 1 the solid continents
Have left their banks* ; | and man's imperial works |
The toil, pride, strength of kingdoms, I which had flung
Their haughty honours in the face of heaven, |
As if immortal | have been swepZ away x |
Shatter'd, and mouldering, | buried, and forgot |
Bu time has shed no dimness on thy front, |
Nor touched the firmness of thy tread*: | youth, strength,
And beauty still are thine | as clear, as bright |
As when the Almighty Former sent thee forth, |
Beautiful offspring of his curious skill, |
To watch earth's northern beacon, I and proclaim
The eternal chorus of Eternal Love. I
I wonder as I gaze. I Thai stream of ligh, |
Undimm'd, unquench'd 4 , i just as I see thee now, |
Has issued from those dazzling points, | thro* years
Tha2 go bac& far into eternity. |
Exhaustless a flood / | for ever spent, \ renew'd x
For ever ! | Yea, and those refulgent drops, j
Which now descend upon my lifted eye, |
Left their far fountain twice three years ago. |
While those wing'd particles | whose speed outstrips
The flight of thought, j were on their way, I the earth
Compass'd its tedious circuit round, and round, |
And in the extremes of annual change, 1 beheld
Six autumns fade 1 , 1 six springs renew their bloom* : |
So far from earth those mighty orbs revolve*! |
So vas* the void through which their beams descend v / 1
Yea, glorious lamps of God, I he may have quench'd'
Your ancient flames, I and bid eternal nigh**
Res on your spheres* ; ! and yet no tidings reach
This distant planet. | Messengers still come, |
Laden with your far fire, I and we may seem
To see your lights still burning ; I while their blaze !
Hut hides the black wreck of extinguished realms^, |
Where anarchy, and darkness long have reign'd. |
Egi-hst'ls ; not gi-zist'ls. k Re-ftl'd^nt ; not r-fiU'(Mnt.
292 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Ye whai is this 1 which to the astonish'd mind
Seems measureless, j and which the baffled though?
Confoundsv ? | A sparr, | a poin^, | in those domains
Which the keen eye can traverse. | Seven stars
Dwell in thai brilliant cluster; I and the sighi
Embraces all at once*; I yet each from each |
Recedes as far as each of them from earth 4 |
And ev'ry star from ev'ry other burns
No less remote^. |
From the profound of heaven, |
Untravell'd e'en in thought, | keen, piercing rays
Dart through the void, | revealing to the sense |
Systems, and worlds unnumber'd. | Ta&e the glass,
And search the skies. | The opening skies pour down
Upon your gaze, | thick showers of sparkling firex |
Stars, crowded, | throng'd', | in regions so remote, |
Thai their swift beams | the swiftest things thai be x j
Have travell'd centuries on their flight to earth. |
Earth, sun, and nearer constellations, I whai
Are ye', I amid this infinite extend, I
And multitude of God's most infinite works ! |
And these are suns* ! I vasi, central, living fires v , |
Lords of dependent systems, | kings of worlds* I
Thai wail as satellites upon their power, I
And flourish in their smile x . | Awa/re my soul, |
And meditate the wonder ! I Countless suns
Blaze round thee, I leading forth their countless worlds^! }
Worlds in whose bosoms living things rejoice, |
And drink the bliss of being I from the founi
Of all-pervading Love. |
Whai mind can know, |
Whai tongue can utter, all their multitudes ! I
Thus numberless in numberless abodes ! |
Known but to thee, bless 'd Father ! I Thine they are, ;
Thy children, and thy carev ; I and none o'erlook'd*
Of thee ! I no, not the humblest soul 1 thai dwells
Upon the humblesi globe | which wheels its course
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 293
Amid the gian* glories of the sky, |
Li&e the mean mote that dances in the beam J
Amongsl the mirror'd lamps I which fling
Their wasteful splendour from the palace wall. |
None, none escape the kindness of thy care^; |
All compass 'd underneath thy spacious wings j
Each fee?, and guided. by thy powerful hand . |
Tell me, ye splendid orbs, a ] as from your throne, |
Ye mark the rolling provinces that own
Your sway, | wha* beings fill those bright abodes J j
How form'd^ | how gifted | what their powders j
their state* |
Their hap'piness | their wisvdom ? | Do they bear
The stamp of human na'ture? I Or has God
Peopled those purer realms | with lovelier forms, |
And more celestial minds\ ? | Does Innocence
Still wear Aer native, and untainted bloom' ? |
Or has Sin breath'd his deadly blight abroad, |
And sow'd corruption in those fairy bow>ers ? |
Has War trod o'er them with his foot of fire' ; |
And Slavery forg'd his chains' ; I and Wrath, and Hate, |
And sordid Selfishness, | and cruel Lus, I
Leagued their base bands | to tread out light, and truth, |
And scatter'd wo where Heaven had planted joy' ? J
Or are they yet all Par'adise, I unfallen,
And uncorrup^ ? \ existence 13 one long joy, |
Without disease upon the frame, I or sin
Upon the heart, or weariness of life\ |
Hope never quench'ds | and age unknown', |
And death unfear'd x ; | while fresh, and fadeless youth j
Glows in the lighz from God's near throne of love v ? \
Open your lips', ye wonderful, and fair ! |
Speaks ! speak' ! I the mysteries of those living worlds
Unfold'/ | Nolan'guage? I Everlasting JighZ,
Splendid orbs ; not splendid dorbs. b Eg-21st'ns ; not g-iist'-
fins.
25*
294 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
And everlasting si'lence ? I Ye the eye
May read, and understand. I The hand of God \
Has written legibly whaZ man may know, |
The glory of the Maker. | There it shines,
Ineffable, I unchangeable ; | and man, I
Bound to the surface of this pigmy glo&e, |
May know, and asA; no more. |
In other days, j
When death shall give the encumber'd spirit wings,
Its range shall be extend*ed ; | it shall roam,
Perchance, | amongst those vas, mysterious spheres,
Shall pass from orb to orb, \ and dwell in eaclr, ]
Familiar with its children, i learn their laws, |
And share their states I and study, and adore |
The infinite varieties of bliss,
And beauty, I by the hand of Power Divine, !
Lavish'd on all its works. |
Eternity
Shall thus roll on | with ever fresh delight; |
No pause of pleasure, or improvement ; | world
On world J still opening to the instructed mind |
An unexhausted* 1 u'niverse, and time
Bu adding to its glo v ries ; | while the soul, |
Advancing ever to the Source of lighZ,
And all perfection, | lives', adores', and reigns*, |
In cloudless knowledge, pu'rity, and bliss^. |
PERPETUAL ADORATION.
(MOORE.)
The turf shall be my fragrant shrinev ; |
My temple, Lord, thaZ arch' of thine ; |
My censer's breath, the mountain airs', |
And silent thoughts, my only pray x ers. |
My choir shall be the moonlight waves', j
When murmuring homeward to their caves*;
Un-6gi-h&st'd ; not ftn-gi-zist'd.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 295
Or when the stillness of the sea', |
E'en more x than music breathes of thee.. |
I Ml seek, by day, some glade unknowns |
All \ight, and silence, Yike thy thrones, |
And the pale stars shall be, at night', \
The only eyes that watch my rite v . |
Thy heaven, on which 't is bliss to looA;', |
Shall be my pure, and shining book., \
Where I shall read, in words of flame% |
The glories of thy wondrous name . |
I Ml read thy anger in the rack 1 \
That clouds awhile the day x -beam's track, ; j
Thy mercy, in the azure hue' |
Of sunny brightness, breaking through v . ]
There 's nothing bright, above', belowv, j
From flowers that bloom', to stars that glow,
'But in its light my soul can see |
Some feature of thy Deity ! |
There 's nothing dar/c, below', above x , |
Bu in its gloom I trace thy love* ; |
And meekly wai that moment, when |
Thy touch shall turn all bright again. |
SCENE FROM PIZARRO.
(KOTZEBUE.)
PIZARRO and DAVILLA in conversation.
[Enter GOMEZ.]
Piz. How now, Gomez ! | what bring'est thou ? I
Gom. On yonder hill, among the palm-trees, I we
have surprised an old cacique^*: I escape by flight he
could not, | and we seized him, and his attendant un-
K&s-s&k', a prince, or nobleman, among the Indians.
296 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
resisting ; | yet his lips breathed nought but bitterness,
and scorn. 1
Piz. Drag Aim before us. |
[GOMEZ leaves the tent, and returns, conducting ORO-
ZEMBO, and attendants, in chains, guarded.]
What art v thou, stranger ? |
Oro. First tell me which among you, is the cap'tain
of this band of robbers. I
Piz. Ha ! I
Dav. Mad'man ! I tear out Ais tongue^ or else j
Oro. Thou '\t hear some truth. |
Dav. (showing his poignard.) Shall I not plunge this into
his heart' ? I
Oro. (topizarro.) Does your army boasZ many such
heroes as* this' ? |
Piz. Audacious I | This insolence has sealed thy
dooniv : | die thou shal^, grey-headecj ruffian. | Bu firs*
confess what thou knowes. |
Oro. I know thai which thou hasZ just assured* me
of | tha* I shall die. |
Piz. Less audacity, perhaps, | might have preserved
thy life. |
Oro. My life is as a withered tree x : I it is not worth*
preserving. |
Piz. Hear me, old man. | Even now v , we march
against the Peruvian army. | We know -there is a
secret path I thai leads to your strong-hole? among the
rocks* : | guide us to tha^, | and name thy reward. | If
wealth be thy wish |
Oro. Ha! ha! ha!|
Piz. Dost thou despise my offer ? |
Oro. Thee, and thy offer. | Wealth ! I I have the
wealth of two dear gallant sonss I I have stored in
heaven, the riches which repay good actions here' ;
and still my chiefes treasure do I bear abouZ v me. |
Piz. What is tha\ ? | Infornr me. I
Oro. I will* ; | for it never can be thine^ I the trea-
sure of a pure, unsullied conscience, j
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 297
Piz. I believe there is no other Peruvian who dares
speak as thoir dost. |
Oro. Would I could believe there is no other Span-
iard who dares act as thou x dost. |
Gom. Obdurate Pagan ! | How numerous is your
army ? |
Oro. CounJ the leaves of yonder fores*. I
Dav. Which is the weakest part of your camp ? \
Oro. It has x no wea& part ; I on every side 't is forti-
fied by justice. |
Piz. Where have you concealed your wives, and
children ? |
Oro. In the hearts of their husbands, and their fa-
thers. |
Piz. KnowesZ thou Alonzo ? I
Oro. Know him ? I Alonzo ? I Know Aim ? ! Our
nation's benefactor ! I The guardian angel of Peru* ! |
Piz. By wha* has he merited that title ? j
Oro. By not resembling thee. |
Dav. Who is this RoHa, joined with Alonzo in com-
mand ? \
Oro. I will answer thaZ ; I for I love to hear, and to
repeal the hero's name. Rolla, the kinsman of the
king, | is the idol of our army; | in war, a tiger, | chafed
by the hunter's spear, ; I in peace, | more gentle than
the unweaned lamb. | Cora was once betrothed* to
Aim ; I but finding that she preferred Alonzo, | he re-
signed Ais claim*, | and, I fear, his peace*, | to friendship,
and to Cora's happiness ; I jet still he loves her with a
pure, and holy fire. |
Piz. Romantic savage! I I shall mee^ this Rolla
soon'. |
Oro. Thou hadsZ better not. | The terrors of his
noble eye would strike thee dead. I
Dav. Silence ! or trenrble ! |
Oro. Beardless robber ! | I never yet have trembled
before man' : I why should I tremble before thee', | thou
less x than man ! I
298 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Dav Another word, audacious heathen, and I stride. ;
Oro. Stride', Christian! I Then boas* among thy
fellows 1 1 too have murdered a Peruvian ! |
Dav. Ven'geance seize x thee ! [stabs him
Ph. Hold' ! |
Dav. CouldsZ thou longer have endured Ais insults ? |
Piz. And therefore should he die untortured ? \
Oro. True* ! I Observe, young man', I your unthink-
ing rashness | has saved me from the rac& x ; land you
yourself have lost the opportunity of a useful lesson : |
you migh have seen with wha cruelty | vengeance
would have inflicted torments I and with wha* pa-
tience | virtue would have borne them. I
[OROZEMBO is borne off, dying.
Piz. Away v ! | Davilla, if thus rash a second
time j
Dav. Forgive the hasty indignation which ]
Piz. No more x . I Unbind that trembling wretch : |
let him depart ; | 't is well he should report the mercy |
which we show to insolent defiance. I Hark N ! | Our
, and guides approach. I [Soldiers march through the tents.
Follow me, friends ! | Each shall have his post as-
signed ; | and ere Peruvians god shall sink beneath the
main, | the Spanish banners, bathed in blood, | shall
floa above the walls of vanquished Quito. a |
(MRS. SOUTHEY.)
Launch thy bark\ Mariner ! |
Christian, God speed* thee!
Le loose the rud x der-bands
Good angels leadx thee! |
Se* thy sails wa'rily, |
Tem^pesifs will come\ ; I
Steer thy course stead v ily, I
Christian, steer homex ! I
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 299
Loo& to the weath'er-bow, |
Breakers are round thee; |
Lei fall the plum v me now, |
Shallows may ground thee. |
Reef in the fore'-sail, there* ! |
Hold the helm* fasfj I
Sov I let the vessel ware' |
There swepi the blas v . |
Wha of the nigh v , watch'man ? J
What of the nigh^ ? \
'Cloudy | all quLeJ J
No land' yet \ all 's right,.' |
Be wake'ful, I be vig'ilanZ |
Danger may be |
At an hour when all seemeth j
Secures* to thee. |
How* ! 1 gains the leaA: so fas*' ? \
Clean out the holc?v |
Hois* up thy merchandise, |
Heave out thy gold v ; I
Thera I let the ingots go v |
Now the ship rights v ; |
Hurrah^ ! | the harbour 's near* |
Lo, the red lights^! |
Slacken not sail yet' \
At \nlet or isl^anc? ; |
Straight for the bea v con a steer, |
Straight for the highland; |
Crowe? all thy can x vass on*, |
Cu^ through the foanr I
Christian ! cas an'chor now^ |
Heaven is thy home t ! |
B^'kn.
300 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD.
(GRAY.)
The curfew tolls^ | the knell of parting day t ! |
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea x ; |
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, j
And leaves the world to darkness, and to me x . j
Now fades the glimm'ring landscape* on the sigh^,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds', |
Save where the beetle wheejs his droning flight', j
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds, : \
Save, thaZ from yonder ivy-rnantled tower, |
The moping owl does to the moon complain j
Of such as, wand'ring near 7*er secret bower, |
Molest her ancient, solitary reign.
Beneath those rugged elms' ; I that yew-tree's shades I
Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap', |
Each in fas narrow cell for ever laid', |
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep v . |
The breezy call of incense-breathing morns |
The swallow, twitt'ring from the straw-buik shedv, |
The cock's shrill cla'rion, or the echoing honr, |
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed v . |
For them no more the blazing hearth^ shall burn, |
Or busy housewife 6 ply her evening cam ; |
Nor children run to lisp their sire's retunr, |
Or climb fas knees', the envied kiss v to share. |
Oft did the harvest to their sicHe yieldv/ |
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe x has broAe*; |
How jocund did they drive their team afield'! j
How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroA;e x ! |
"L&nd'skip; not Idnd'sklp. b H&i'wlf.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 301
Let not ambition mock their useful toil, ]
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure* ; |
Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile', |
The short, and simple annals of the poor ( . |
The boas* of heraldry, I the pomp of pow'er, |
And all that beauty, all that wealth' , e'er gavev, |
A waif, ali&e, the inevitable noun |
The paths of glory n lead but to the grave v . |
Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fauk,, |
If mem'ry o'er their tomb no trophies raise', }
Wherethrough the long-drawn aisle, arid fretted vault', j
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise v . |
Can storied urn, or animated bus*',
BacA: to its mansion call the fleeting breatL 1 \
Can honour's voice provoAe the silent dus x , |
Or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death/h
Perhaps in this neglected spo, is laid' |
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire x ; |
Hands that the rod of enVpire might have sway'd*, ]
Or waA-'d to ecstasy the living lyre x . |
Bu knowledge to their eyes Aer ample page 7 , |
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ; |
Chill penury repress'd x their noble rage', |
And froze the genial current of the souK |
Full many a gem of purest ray serene-, |
The dark, unfathom'd caves of o v cean ( bean ; |
Full many a flow er ( is born to blush unseen 1 , |
And waste its sweetness on the desert air t . a |
Some village Hampden that, with dauntless breast, |
The little tyrant of his fields^ withstoodv ; |
Some mute, inglorious MiHon, here may rest 1 ; |
Some CronVwell, guiltless of //is country's blood. |
a Desert air ; not dez-zer-tair.
26
302 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
The applause of listening senates to command', |
The threats of pain, and ruin to despises |
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land',
And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes', ;
Their lot forbade* I nor circumscrib'd alone' |
Their growing virtues ; j but, their crimes' confin'd 1 ,
Forbade to wade through slaughter to a thrones !
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind* ; |
The struggling pangs of conscious truth* to hide*, |
To quench the blushes of ingenuous shames |
Or heap the shrine of luxury, and pride', |
With incense kindled at the muse's flame x . |
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife', I
(' Their sober wishes never learn'd x to stray,)
2 Along the cool, sequester'd vale of life', |
They kep the noiseless tenor of their way x . |
e'en these bones, from insuk to protect, |
Some frail memorial still', erected nigh', |
With uncouth rhymes, and shapeless sculpture deck'd', |
Implores the passing tribute of a sigtu |
Their names', their years', spell'd by the unletter'd muse',|
The place of fame, and elegy, supply* ; |
And many a holy text around she strews', |
Thai teach the rustic moralist to die x . |
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, |
This pleasing, anxious being e'er resign'd', |
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, |
Nor cast one longing, ling'ring looA: behind v ? \
On some fond breast the parting soul relies' ; |
Some pious drops the closing eye requires* ; |
E'en from the tomb v , the voice of nature cries', \
E'en in our ash v es live their wonted fires x . |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 303
For thee who, mindful of the unhonour'd dead', i
DOS* in these lines their artless tale relate', |
If, chance, by lonely contemplation led', |
Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate', |
Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, |
" Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn', |
Brushing, with hasty step, the dews away, |
To mee the sun upon the upland lawn^. |
There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech' |
Thai wreathes its old fantastic roots so high', |
His listless length at noontide would he stretch', |
And pore upon the brook that bubbles by x . |
Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn', |
Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove' ; j
Now droop'ing, wo'ful, wan>, I like one forlorn',
Or craz'd with care% \ or cross'd in hopeless
One morn I miss'd v him on the accustomed hilb, |
Along the heath x , and near Ais fav'rite tree* ; |
Another came ; | nor yet beside the rill', j
Nor up the lawn', 1 nor at the wood* was he t . |
The nex, with dirges due, in sad array, |
Slow through the church-yard patfr, we saw him
borne* |
Approach, and read' ('for thou canst read') 2 the lay x , |
'Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn ."
THE EPITAPH.
Here rests Ais head upon the lap of earth', |
A youth to Fortune, and to Fame, unknown* ; |
Fair Science frown'd not on 7ns humble birth', |
And Melancholy mark'd 7/im for her own k . |
104 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Large was his bounty, and fas soul, sincere* |
Heaven did a recompense as largely send |
He gave to Mis'ry all he had', a tear ; |
He gain'd from Heav'n | (' 'twas all he wish'd^) I
friend v . |
No farther seek his merits to .disclose', |
Or draw his frailties from their dread abodes |
('There they alike in trembling hope repose^) |
2 The bosom of his Father, and his God v . |
(HOME.)
My name is Norval ; ) on the Grampian hills |
My father feeds his flocksv ; j a frugal swain I
Whose constant cares | were to increase his store', |
And keep his only son, myself, at homev : |
For I had heard of bat'tles, | and I long'd
To follow to the field some warlike lord' ; |
And heaven soon granted wha my sire denied x / |
This moon, which rose last nigh*, round as my shield, |
Had not yet fill'd her horns, when by Aer light, \
A band of fierce barbarians from the hills, I
Rush'd like a torrent down upon the vale x , I
Sweeping our flocks, and herds, j The shepherds fled
For safety, and for succour. | I, alone%
With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows, |
Hover'd about the enemy, I and mark'd
The road he took, : \ then hasted to my friends* |
Whom, with a troop of fifty chosen men, |
I met advancing. | The pursuit I v led, |
Till we o'ertooA; x the spoil-encumber'd foe^. |
We fought, and conquer'd. | Ere a sword was drawn, |
An arrow from my bow had pierc'd their chief |
Who wore, tha day, the arms which now I x wear x . |
Returning home in triumph, | I disdain'd*
The shepherd's slothful life^ ; | and, having heard |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 305
That our good king had summon'd Ms bold peers j
To lead their warriors to the Carron side, |
I left my father's housex, I and took with me |
A chosen servant I to conduct my stepsx |
l Yon trembling coward who forsook h\s master. I
2 Journeying with this intend, I pass'd these tow v ers, |
And, heaven-directed, I came this day to do |
The happy deed thai gilds my humble name. |
THE GRAVE OP FRANKLIN.
(MISS C. H. WATERMAN.)
No chisell'd urn is rear'd to theev; |
No sculptured scroll enrolls its page |
To tell the children of the free', |
Where rests the patriot, and the sage v . |
Far in the city of the dead', |
A corner holds thy sacred clay x ; |
And pilgrim feei, by reverence led', |
Have worn a path thai marks the way x . |
There, round thy lone, and simple grave', |
Encroaching on its marble gray, j
Wild plantain weeds, and tall grass wave', |
And sunbeams pour their shadeless ray v . |
Level with earths thy lettered stone' j
And hidden oft by winter's snow x |
Its modesi record tells alone' |
Whose dust it is thai sleeps below v .* I
Thai name's enough^ | thai honour'd name'|
No aid from eulogy requiresv : |
'T is blended with thy country's fame', |
And flashes round her lightning spires x . |
* The body of Franklin lies in Christ-Church burying-grouml,
corner of Mulberry and Fifth street, Philadelphia. The inscription
upon his tomb-stone is as follows :
BENJAMIN )
AND C FRANKLIN
Oft* DEBORAH }
1790
U
306 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
STATE-HOITSE, PHILADELPHIA.*
DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.
(JEFFERSON.)
When, in the course of human everts, | \t becomes
necessary for one people | to dissolve the political bands
which have connected them with another, I and to as-
sume among the powers of the earth I the separate and
equal station | to which the laws of nature and of na-
ture's God entitle them, I a decent respect to the opin-
ions of mankind | requires that they should declare the
causes I which impel them to the separation. I
We hole? these truths a to be self-evident : I that all
men are created evqual ; | that they are endowed by their
Creator | with certain inalienable 6 rights^ ; | that among
these | are life', lib'erty, and the pursuit of" hap v piness ; ]
thaZ to secure these rights, ! governments are insti-
* The Declaration of Independence was publicly read from the
steps of the State-House, July 4th, 1776.
Truths ; not truxni. b In-il'y&n-ji-bl. Guv'urn-m&nts.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 307
tuted among men*, I deriving their jusi powers | from
the consent of the gov>erned ; | that whenever any form
of government ! becomes destructive of these ends, | it
is the righi of the people I to alter or aboHsh it, | and
to institute new government, I laying its foundation on
such principles, I and organizing its powers in such
form, | as to them shall seem most likely I to effect their
safety and happiness. | Prudence, indeed, will dic-
tate | thai governments long established | should not be
changed for lighi and trairsienl* causes; | and accord-,
ingly all experience hath shown I thai mankind are more
disposed to suffer | while evils are sufferable, | than to
righi themselves | by abolishing the forms to which
they are accustomed. I Bui when a long train of
abuses and usurpations 1 ' I pursuing invariably the same
object, | evinces a design to reduce them under abso-
lute despotism, | it is their righi x , | it is their du v ty j to
throw off v such government, I and to provide new guards
for their future security. | Such has been the patieni
sufferance of these colonies; 11 I and such is now the
necessity | which constrains them to alter their former
systems of gov^ernmeni. | The history of the present
king of Greai Britain I is a history of repeated injuries
and usurpations, 1 * I all having in direct object | the esta-
blishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. |
To prove this, | let facts be submitted to a candid
world t . |
He has refused fas asseni to laws | the most whole-
some and necessary for the public good, j
He has forbidden fas governors to pass laws | of im-
mediate and pressing importance, I unless suspended in
their operation I till fas assent should be obtained ; |
and, when so suspended, | he has utterly neglected to
attend^ to them. |
He has refused to pass other laws I for the accommo-
dation of large districts of people, | unless those people j
b Yi-zftr-pi'shftni.
308 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
would relinquish the right of representation in the
legislature, 8 1 a righ* inestimable to them, | and formi-
dable to tyrants only. |
He has called together legislative bodies | a places
umrsual, I uncomfortable, | and distant from the deposi-
tory 11 of their public records, | for the sole purpose | of
fatiguing them into compliance with his measures. |
He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly j
for opposing with manly firmness | his invasions on the
rights of the people. ]
He has refused for a long time after such dissolu-
tions | to cause others to be elected, 1 whereby the legis-
lative powers, | incapable of annihilation, 6 I have re-
turned to the people a.t large for their exercise, I the
state remaining, in the mean time, I exposed to all the
dangers of invasion from without | and convulsions
within. |
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of
these states ; I for that purpose I obstructing the laws
for naturalization 11 of foreigners, (refusing to pass others |
to encourage their migrations hittrer, I and raising the
conditions | of new appropriations of lands. |
He has obstructed the administration of justice | by
refusing fas assent to laws i for establishing judrciary 8
powers. |
He has made judges dependent on his will alone' |
for the tenure f of their of fices, I and the amount, and
payment of their salaries. |
He has erected a multitude of new offices, I and sent
hither swarms of new of ficers | to harass" our people
and ea out their substance. |
He has kept among us in times of peace' I standing
armies | without the consent of our legislatures. |
He has affected to render the military | independent
of, | and superior to the civ v il power, j
He has combined with others | to subject us to a
c An-ni-h-]i'sMn. d Ndt-
tshfc-r&l-e-ii'sh&n. * Dai-dlsh'&-r. { T'nur. * Hlr'ris.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 309
jurisdiction | foreign 11 to our constitutions | and unac-
knowledged by our laws*, | giving his assent | to their
acts of pretended legislation I for quartering large bo-
dies of armed troops' among us ; | for protecting them
by a mock trial \ from punishment | for any murders
which they should commit j on the inhabitants of these
states^ | for cutting off our trade x with all parts of the
worldx , I for imposing tax'es on us without our consent ; 1
for depriving us in many cases I of the benefits of trial
by jury ; I for transporting us beyond seas' | to be tried
for pretended offences ; | for abolishing the free system
of English laws I in a neighbouring province, (establish-
ing therein I an arbitrary government, | and enlarging
its boundaries, I so as to ronder it at once an example J
and fit instrument I for introducing the same absolute
rule into these cobonies ; i for taking away our char'ters,|
abolishing our most valuable laws 1 , | and altering fun-
damentally | the forms of our governments ; | for sus-
pending our own legislatures, I and declaring them-
selues' invested with power to legislate for us | in all
cases whatsoev^er. |
He has abdicated government here I by declaring us
out of Ais protection I and waging war against us. j
He has plundered our seas v , | ravaged our coass\ |
burnt our towns', | and destroyed the lives of our
e. |
He is at this time x | transporting large armies of fo-
reign mercenaries | to complete the works of death', |
desola'tion, and tyranny I already begun* | with circum-
stances of cruelty and perfidy j scarcely paralleled in
the mosZ barbarous ages | and totally unworthy the
head of a civalized nation. |
He has constrained our fellow-citizens | taken captive
on the high seas I to bear arms against their country, ;
to become the executioners of their friends and breth -
ren, | or to fall themselves by their hands. |
He has excited domestic insurrections among us, i
.* FAr'rlaT
310 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
and has endeavoured to bring | on the inhabitants of
our frontiers | the merciless Indian savages, I whose
known rule of warfare | is an undistinguished destruc-
tion | of all a'ges, sex'es, and conditions. |
In every stage of these oppressions I we have peti-
tioned for redress in the most humble terms* : I our re-
peated petitions | have been answered only by repeated
injuries. |
A prince whose character is thus marked | by every
act which may define-a. tyrant | is unfit to be the ruler
of a free people. |
Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our Brit-
ish brethren. | We have warned them from time to
time | of attempts by their legislature I to extend an un-
warrantable jurisdiction over us. I We have reminded
them of the circumstances I of our emigration and set'-
tlemenZ here: I we have appealed to their native jus-
tice and magnanimity, ] and we have conjured them
by the ties of our common kindred, I to disavow' 3 these
usurpations | which would inevitably interrupt our
connexion and correspond*ence. I They too have been
deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. | We
must therefore acquiesce in the necessity I which de-
nounces our separation ! I and hold them as we hold
the res^ of mankind, I enemies in war, | in peace friends. |
We therefore I the representatives of the United
States of America 1 in General Congress assembled, j
'appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world I for the
rectitude of our intentions, 1 2 do in the name, | and by
the authority of the good people of these colonies, | so-
lemnly publish and declares j thai these united colonies
are, | and of right ought' to be, i free and independent
states* ; I thai they are absolved from all allegiance to
the British crowns I and that all political connexion |
between them and the state of Greai Britain i is, and
oughi' to be, | totally dissolved* ; I and thai as free and
Dls-d-vou.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION'. 311
independent states, I they have full power to levy war, I
conclude peace 1 , | contract allrances, I establish com v -
merce, j and to do all other acts and things I which
independent states may of righ^ do. |
And for the support of this declaration, | 'with a firm
reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, 1 2 we
mutually pledge to each other our lives', I our for-
tunes, | and our sacred hon x our. |
THE JOURNEY OF A DAY, A PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE.
(DR. JOHNSON.)
Obidah, the son of Abensina, I left the caravansera
early in themoriring, | and pursued Ais journey through
the plains of Indosvtan. | He was fresh, arid vigorous
with resfx ; | he was animated with hope' ; he was in-
cited by desire^ ; I he walked swiftly forward over the
va'lleys, | and saw the hills gradually rising before* him. |
As he passed along, I his ears were delighted with
the morning song of the bird of paradise; 1 he was
fanned by the las* flutters of the sinking breeze', | and
sprinkled with dew from groves of spices. I He some-
times contemplated the towering height of the oaA;*, 1
monarch of the hilta ; ! and sometimes caught the gentle
fragrance of the prinrrose, I eldest daughter of the
spring : I all his senses were gratified, 1 and all care
was banished from fas hear/ . |
Thus he went on, I till the sun approached his me-
ridian, | and the increased heat preyed upon his
strength ; | he then looked round about him \ for some
more commodious path. | He saw, on his right hand,
a grove x | that seemed to wave its shades as a sign of
invitation ; I he entered it, i and found the coolness, and
verdure irresistibly pleasant. |
He did not, however, I forge* whither he was travel-
ling, 11 | but found a narrow way, bordered with flowers, |
* Tr&v'il-llng.
312 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
which appeared to have the same direction with the
main road; I and was pleased, I thai by this happy
experiment, | he had found means to unite pleasure with
bu x siness, a | and to gain the rewards of diligence I with-
out suffering its fatigues. |
He, therefore, still continued to walk for a time, |
without the leasi remission of his ardour, ] except thai
he was sometimes tempted to stop I by the music of the
birds | which the heai had assembled in the shadex ; |
and sometimes amused himself | with plucking the
flowers ! thai covered the banks on either side x , I or the
fruii that hung upon the branches. |
At lasi, the'green path began to decline from its first
tendency, I and to wind among hills, and thick'ets, J
cooled with fountains, and murmuring with waterfalls. |
Here Obidah paused* for a time/, I and began to con-
sider | whether it were longer safe to forsake the known,
and common trackv ; I but remembering thai the heat
was now in its greatest violence, I and that the plain
was dusty, and uneven, | he resolved to pursue the new x
path | which he supposed only to make a few meanders, |
in compliance with the varieties of the ground, | and to
end at last in the common road. |
Having thus calmed fas solicitude, I he renewed Ais
pace*, | though he suspected thai he was noi gaining
ground. I This uneasiness of his mind, | inclined him
to lay hold on every new objeci, I and give way to
every sensation I thai mighi soothe, or diveri him. | He
listened to every eclvo ; I he mounted every hill for a
fresh pros'peci ; | he turned aside to every cascade* ; |
and pleased himself | with tracing the course of a gentle
river | thai rolled among the trees, 1 and watered a
large region I with innumerable circumvolutions. |
In these amusements, I the hours passed away unac-
counted ; I his deviations had perplexed his menrory, |
and he knew noi towards whai poini to travel. | He
* Bii'nfes.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 313
stood pensive, and confused, I afraid to go forward, |
lest he should go wrongs | jet conscious that the time
of loitering was now pasi . I While he was thus tor-
tured with uncertainty, I the sky was overspread with
clouds* ; | the day vanished from before' Aim ; I and a
sudden tempest gathered round his head . |
He was now roused by Ais danger, I to a quick, and
painful remembrance of Ais folly; | he now saw how
happiness is losi, | when ease* is consulted ; | he lament-
ed the unmanly impatience | thai prompted Aim to seek
shelter in the grove x ; | and despised the petty curiosity |
thai led Aim on from trifle to trifle. I While Ae was
thus reflecting, I the air grew blacker, | and a clap of
thunder I broke Ais meditation. |
He now resolved to do whai yet remained in Ais
power, to tread bac& the ground which Ae had passed, |
and try to find some issue | where the wood might
open into the plain. | He prostrated Aimself on the
ground, I and recommended Ais life to the Lord of Na-
ture. | He rose with confidence, and tranquillity, | and
pressed on with resolution. | The beasis of the desert
were in motion, I and on every hand I were heard the
mingled howls of rage', and fear', j and ravage, and
expiration. I All the horrors of darkness, and solitude,
surrounded Aim : | the winds roared in the woods, | and
the torrents tumbled from the hills, j
Thus forlorn, and distressed, i he wandered through
the wild, | without knowing whither Ae was goring, | or
whether Ae was every moment | drawing nearer to
safety, or to destruction. | At length, not fear, | but
la'bour ( began to overcome. Aim ; I his breath grew
short, and Ais knees trembled ; ] and Ae was on the
point of lying down in resignation to Ais fate x , | when
Ae beheld, through the brambles, I the glimmer of a
taper. |
He advanced towards the lighiv | and finding that it
proceeded from the cottage of a hermii, I he called
humbly at the door, | and obtained admission, i The
27
314 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
old man set before Mm | such provisions as he had col-
lected for Aimself , | on which Qbidah fed with eager-
ness, and gratitue/e. |
When the repast was over, | " Tell me," said the
iierm^, | "by wha chance thou hast been brought
hither? j I have been now twenty years' | an inhabit-
ant of the wil'derness, | in which I never saw a man
before." | Obidah then related the occurrences of Ais
journey, | without any concealment, or palliation. |
" Son," said the hermit, I " let the errors, and follies, j
the dangers, and escape of this day, I sinA; deep into thy
heart. I Remember, my son, | that human life' is the
journey of a day. | We rise in the morning of youth, |
full of vigour, and full of expectation ; | we set forward
with spirit, and hope\, I with gaiety, and with diHgence,|
and travel on awhile I in the direct road of piety, | to-
wards the mansions of rest, j
" In a short time, we remit our fenvour, | and endea-
vour to find some mitigation of our du^ty, | and some
more easy means of obtaining the same end. I We then
relax our vigour, I and resolve no longer to be terrified
with crimes at a distance ; I but rely upon our own
constancy, I and venture to approach | what we resolve
never to touch. I We thus enter the bowers of ease, |
and repose in the shades of security. |
" Here the heart softens, | and vigilance subsides^ ; | we
are then willing to inquire I whether another advance
cannot be made, I and whether we may not, at least, j
turn our eyes x upon the gardens of pleasure. | We
approach them with scruple, and hesitation ; | we en'ter
them, I but enter timorous, and trembling ; i and always
hope to pass through them I without losing the road of
virtue, .| which, for a while, we keep in our sigh^, | and
to which we purpose to return. | Bu temptation suc-
ceeds v temptavtion, | and one compliance, prepares us
for another ; | we in time lose the happiness of inno-
cence, | and solace our disquiet with sensual gratifica-
tions. |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 315
" By degrees, | we let fall the remembrance of our
original intension, I and quit the only adequate object
of rational desire. I We entangle ourselves in busi-
ness," | immerge ourselves in lux v ury, I an d rove through
the labyrinths 6 of inconstancy ; | till the darkness of
old age\ begins to invade^us, | and disease, and anxiety
obstruct our way. I We then look back upon our lives
with horror, I with sorVow, I with repentance ; I and
wish, | but too often vainly wish, | that we had not for-
saken the ways of virtue. I
" Happy are they, my son, | who shall learn from
thy example, I not to despair*; I but shall remember, |
tha<, though the day is pas, I and their strength is
wasted, | there yet remains one v effort to be made : j
that reformation is never hopeless, I nor sincere endea-
vours ever unassisted; | that the wanderer may at
length return, I after all his errors ; I and thai he who
implores strength, and courage from above, | shall find
danger, and difficulty give way before* him. I Go now,
my son, to thy repose* ; I commit thyself to the care of
Omnipotence ; I and when the morning calls again to
toil, | begin anew thy journey, and thy life." |
NIGHT THOUGHTS.
(YOUNG.)
The bell strikes one v . I We take no note of time |
Rut from its loss* : | to give it then a tongue |
Is wise x in man . | As if ( an an<gel d spo&e, |
J feel the solemn sound v . | If heard aright, |
It is the knell of my departed hours v . I
Where are' they? I With the years beyond the flood*.
It is the signal that demands despatch^ : I
How much is to be done* ! I My hopes, and fears
Start up alarm'd x , | and o'er life's narrow verge
Bli'nds. b Llb-br-r!n^. c D6-spdr'. d As if an angel; not
uz-zif-fan-an'gel.
316 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
LooA; down' | on what ? \ A fathomless abyss\, j
A dreac? etennity ! | how surely mine v ! |
And can eternity belong to me', !
Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour' ? 1
How poorv, | how riclv, | how abject, I how august; |
How complicate, | how won v derful is man ! I
How passing wonder he \ who made v him such ! I
Who center's? in our ma&e such strange extremesv ! |
From diff'renZ natures, marvellously' 1 mix'd, |
Connexion exquisite of distant worlds* ! i
Distinguish'^ link in being's endless chain ! I
Midway from nothing to the De v ity ! |
A beam etherial, sullied, and absorp^ / 1
Though sullied, and dishonour'd, I still divine> ! !
Dim miniature 5 of greatness absolute ! |
An heir of gloVy ! I a frail child of dust / |
Helpless immortal ! I insect infinite ! I
A wornr ! I a God* / 1 1 tremble at myself, |
And in myself am los^. |
At home, a stranger, |
Thought wanders up, and down, c | surpris'd', ! aghast, '
And wond'ring at her own v . | How reason reels' ! |
O -what a miracle to man is man*, |
Triumphantly distress'^ / | wha* joy' ! I \vhat dread. / I
Alternately transported, and alarm'd* / |
What can preserve^ my life? I or wha destroy*? |
An an'gel's arm can't snatch me from the grave x ; |
Legions of angels can'i confine* me there. |
THE LAND THAT WE LIVE IN.
(C. W. THOMSON.)
The land tha we live^ in I the land tha we live' in, j
O ! where is the heart does not think it more fair 7 , |
Than the brightest of scenes to which nature has given .
Her clearest of sun and her purest of air v ? i
b Mln'^-tir. Up and down ; not up-pan-down.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 317
Italia may boas of her evergreen bowers, |
Her sky without clouds and her rose-scented breeze s ,
And Persia may vaunZ of her gardens and flowers, )
Rut there is one spot which is better than thesev, j
'Tis the land tha we live^ in I the lane? that we live* in,j
O ! where is the heart does no* think it more fair', I
Than the brightest of scenes to which nature has given I
Her clearest of sun and Aer purest of air . |
Romantic and wile? are proud Scotia's mountains, |
And fair are the plains of imperial France* |
And Grana'da may tell of her groves and her fountains,!
And mingle the mirth of the song and the dancex
The climes of the EasZ may exhibit their treasures, |
Their palm-trees may bloom and their waters may
fell' I
And music may wa&e to enliven their pleasures, I
Bu there is one spot which is dearer than all, |
'T is the land that we live 4 in I the land that we live' in, I
O ! where is the heart does not think it more fair', I
Than the brightest of scenes to which nature has given
Her clearest of sun and her purest of air. ? I
WOLSEY'S SOLILOQUY.
(SHAKSPEARE.)
Farewell, ) a long farewell, | to all my greatness ! |
This is the state of man\ : I to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope^ ; I to-morrow, blossoms, |
And bears his blushing honours thick upon Aim* : |
The third day, comes a frosty \ a killing fros^ ; |
And, when he thinks, | good, easy man, I full surely
His greatness is a ripening, | nips his roop, \
And then he falls, | as L do. I
I have ventured, |
Like little wanton boys thai swim on blad'ders, j
This* many summers, | in a sea of gloTy ; |
* Thus it stands in Shakspeare.
27*
318 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Bui far beyond my depth : ! my high-blown pride \
At length broke un v der me ; I and now has left me, |
Weary, and old with service, | to the mercy
Of a rude stream, | thai must for ever hide, me. I
Vain pomp, and glory of this world, 1 1 hate* ye ; |
I feel my heart new O'pen'd : | O how wretched
Is thai poor man | thai hangs on prin v ces' favours ! |
There is,* betwixi thai smile he would aspire to, |
Thai sweei aspeci of princes, I and their ruin, |
More pangs, and fears | than wars, or wo v men have* ;
And when he falls, | he falls like Lu v cifer, |
Never to hope again v . |
(SHAKSPEARE.)
Cromwell, I did noi think to shed a tear I
In all my miseries ; I but thou hasi forc'd me, ]
Oui of thy honesi truth, | to play the woman. |
Let's dry our eyes x ; I and thus far hear me,CromvWell : 1
And, 'when I am forgotten, as I shall be, |
And sleep in dull, cold marble, | where no mention
Of me more musi be heard of, 1 2 say, T taughi thee, |
Say, Wol'sey, | thai once trod the ways of glory, |
And sounded all the depths, and shoals of honour, |
Found thee a way, | out of his wrec&, I to rise^ in, ; |
A sure, and safe N one, I though thy master miss'd it. |
Mar& bui my fall, I and thai thai ru'in'd me. I
Cromwell, I charge thee. fling away ambition ; I
By thai sin fell the an'gels, I how can man then, |
The image of his Maker, I hope to win* by'i. ?
Love thyself last,: I cherish those hearts thai haie* thee;
Corruption wins noi more than honesty. |
Still in thy righi hand carry gentle peace, |
To silence envious tongues. I
* Thus it stands in Shakspeare.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 319
Be jus* x , and fear not, j
Let all the ends, thou aim's* at, \ be thy country's, |
Thy God's', and truths ; I then if thou fall's*, oh Crom-
well, |
Thou fall's* a blessed martyr. I O Cromwell, !
Had I serv'd my God \ with half the zeal
I serv'd my king, I he would no* in mine age I
Have lef* me naked to mine enemies. |
REPLY TO WALPOLE.
(PITT.*)
The atrocious crime of being a young man, | which
the honourable gentleman has, ! with such spiri* and
decency, charged upon me, 1 1 shall neither attemp* to
pallia*e, nor deny* ; | bu* conten* myself with wishing |
tha* I may be one of those j whose follies cease with
their youtfr, | and no* of tha* number J who are igno-
ran* in spi*e of experience. I
Whether youth can be imputed to a v ny man as a
reproach, 1 1 will no* assume the province of determin-
ing: | bu* surely age may become justly contemptible, |
if the opportunities which it brings have passed away
without improvement, I and vice appears to prevail |
when the passions have subsided, j
* This illustrious father of English Oratory, having expressed
himself, in the House of Commons, with his accustomed energy, in
opposition to one of the measures then in agitation, his speech pro-
duced an answer from Mr. WALPOLE, who, in the course of it, said,
" Formidable sounds, and furious declamation, confident assertions,
and lofty periods, may affect the young and inexperienced ; and,
perhaps, the honourable gentleman may have contracted his habits
of oratory by conversing more with those of his own age, than with
such as have had more opportunities of acquiring knowledge, and
more successful methods of communicating their sentiments." And
he made use of some expressions, such as vehemence of gesture,
theatrical emotion, &c., applying them to Mr. PITT'S manner of
speaking. As soon as Mr. WALPOLE sat down, Mr. PITT got up
and replied as above.
320 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
The wretch who, after having seen the consequences
of a thousand errors, | continues still to blunder, | and
whose age has only added obstinacy to stupidity, 1 is
surely the object of either abhorrence or contempts i
and deserves not that his grey head' | should secure
him from insult. |
Much more is he to be abhorred, | who, as he has
advanced in age | has receded from virtue, I and be-
comes more wicked with less temptation : who prosti-
tutes himself for mone which he cannot
enoys
spends the remains of Ais life I in the ruin of fas coun-
try. |
But youth is not my only crime. I I have been
accused of acting a theatrical part. I A theatrical
part | may either imply some peculiarities of gesture, j
or a dissimulation of my real sentiments, | and an adop-
tion of the opinions and language of another man. |
In the first sense, | the charge is too trifling to be
confuted, | and deserves only to be mentioned | to be
despised. | I am at liberty, I liAe every otlrer man, I to
use my own language ; I and though I may, perhaps,
have some ambition ; | yet to please this gentleman, ] I
shall not lay myself under any restraint, | or very
solicitously | copy his diction, or his mien\, | however
matured by age, I or modelled by experience. |
If any man shall, I by charging me with theatrical
behaviour, I imply that I utter any sentiments but my
own, | I shall treat him as a calunrniator I and a vil\-
lain : I nor shall any protection | shelter him from the
treatment which he deserves. | I shall, on such an
occasion, | without scruple, i trample upon all those
forms | with which wealth and dignity entrench them-
selves : | nor shall any thing but age I restrain my re-
sen^menZ : I age which always brings one privilege : |
thai of being insolent and supercilious j without punish-
ment |
Bu with regard to those whom I have offended, 1 1
am of opinion | that if I Aad acted a borrowed part, 1 1
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 321
should have avoided their censure. I The hea* that
offended them | is the ardour of conviction, I arid tha*
zeal for the service of my country | which neither hope
nor fear 1 shall influence me to suppress. I
I will no* si* unconcerned | while my liberty is
inva^ded, | nor looA; in silence upon public robbery. | I
will exert my endeavours, a* whatever hazard, | to
repel the aggressor, I and drag the thief to justice, |
wha* power soever may protect the villany, ) and who-
ever may partake of the plunder. I
GENIUS.
(AKENSIDE.)
From heaven my strains begin ; | from heaven descends
The flame of genius to the human breas*, |
And love, and beauty, and poetic joy,
And inspiration. | Ere the radian* sun
Sprang from the eas*, | or 'mid the vaul* of nigh* |
The moon suspended her serener lamp ; |
Ere mountains, woods, or streams adorn'd the glo&e, |
Or Wisdom taugh* the sons of men her lore ; |
Then lived the Almighty ONE ; I then, deep retired,
In his unfathom'd essence, I view'd the forms, j
The forms eternal of created things ; |
The radian* sun, ! the moon's nocturnal lamp, |
The mountains, woods, and streams, | the rolling glofee, |
And Wisdom's mien celestial. |
From the firs*
Of days, | on them his love divine he fix'd, |
His admiration : | till, in time comple*e, |
Wha* he admired and loved, I his vital smile
Unfolded into being. | Hence the breath
Of life informing each organic frame, |
Hence the green earth, and wild resounding waves ; 1
Hence ligh* and shade alternate ; | warmth and cold, )
And clear autumnal skies, and vernal showers, j
And all the fair variety of things. 1
322 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Bu not alike to every mortal eye |
Is this greaZ scene unveil'd. | For, since the claims
Of social life, | to different labours urge
The active powers of man, 1 with wise intend |
The hand of Nature on peculiar minds |
Imprints a different bias, I and to each
Decrees its province in the common toil. |
To some she taught the fabric of the sphere, |
The changeful moon, I the circuit of the stars,
The golden zones of heaven : I to some she gave
To weigh the moment of eternal things, |
Of time, and space, and Fate's unbroken chain, |
And will's quick impulse ; | others by the hand !
She led o'er vales and mountains, I to explore
Wha healing virtue I swells the tender veins
Of herbs and flowers ; | or whaZ the beams of morn
Draw forth, | distilling from the clifted rind
In balmy tears. |
Rut some to higher hopes
Were destin'd ; | some within a finer mould
She wrought, | and temper'd with a purer flame : I
To these the Sire Omnipotent I unfolds
The world's harmonious volume, I there to read
The transcript of /amself. | On every part I
They trace the bright impressions of his hand ; |
In earth or air, ! the meadow's purple stores, |
The moon's mild radiance, I or the virgin's form, (
Blooming with rosy smiles, 1 they see pourtray'd
Tha* uncreated beauty i which delights
The Mind Supreme. I They also feel her charms,
Enamour'd ; i they partake the eternal joy. |
GREATNESS.
(AKENSIDE.)
Say, why was man so eminently raised |
Amid the vasZ creation ? I why ordain'd
Thro' life and death | to dart Ais piercing eye, I
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 323
With though* beyond the limi* of Ms frame, |
Bu* tha* the Omnipotent migh* send Aim forth, |
In sigh* of mortal and immortal powers, I
As on a boundless theatre, | to run
The grea* career of justice : | to exal*
His generous aim to all diviner deeds ; |
To chase each partial purpose from his breas* ; I
And thro' the mis*s of passion ana 7 of sense, |
And thro' the tossing tide of chance and pain, |
To hold his course unfaltering, I while the voice
Of Truth ana" Virtue, | up the steep ascend
Of Nature, I calls Aim to h is high reward, |
The applauding smile of Heaven? |
Else wherefore burns
In mortal bosom this unquenched hope, I
Tha* breathes from day to day sublimer things, |
And mocks possession ? I Wherefore darts the mine 7 , |
With such resistless ardour I to embrace
Majestic forms, | impatient to be free ; j
Spurning the gross control of wilful migh* ; |
Proud of the strong contention of Aer toils ; |
Proud to be daring ? j Who bu* rather turns
To Heaven's broao 1 fire Ais unconstrained view, I
Than to the glimmering of a waxen flame ? I
Who tha*, from Alpine heights, | Ais labouring eye
Shoots round the wide horizon, I to survey
Nil us or Ganges rolling Ais brigh* wave I
Thro' mountains, plains,| thro' empires black with shade,!
And continents of sand, I will turn Ais gaze |
To mark the windings of a scanty rill I
Tha* murmurs a* Ais fee* ? \
The high-born soul |
Disdains to res* Aer heaven aspiring wing
Beneath its native quarry. Jf Tired of earth
And this diurnal scene, I she springs alof*
Thro' fields of air ; I pursues the flying storm ; |
Rides on the volley'd lightning thro' the heavens ; |
Or, yoked with whirlwinds and the northern bias*, |
324 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Sweeps the long tract of day. | Then high she soars
The blue profound, | and hovering round the sun, |
Beholds him pouring the redundant stream
Of lighz ; | beholds his unrelenting sway |
Bend the reluctant planets to absolve
The fated rounds of time. | Thence far effused |
She darts ^er swiftness up the long career
Of devious comets : | thro' its burning signs
Exulting I measures the perennial wheel
Of Nature, | and looks bacA; on all the stars, |
Whose blended lightf, as with a milky zone, |
Invests the orient. I
Now amazed she views
The empyreal waste, I where happy spirits hold, |
Beyond this concave heaven, I their calm abode ; I
And fields of radiance, | whose unfading light \
Has travelled the profound six thousand years, |
Nor yet arrives in sight of mortal things. |
E'en on the barriers of the world untired |
She meditates the eternal depth below, |
Till, half recoiling, | down the headlong steep
She plunges ; I soon o'erwhelm'd and swallowed up \
In that immense of being. |
There her hopes
Res at the fatal goal : | for, from the birth
Of mortal man, I the sovereign Maker said, |
Tha not in humble nor in brief delight, I
No in the fading echoes of renown, |
Power's purple robes, I nor Pleasure's flowery lap, \
The soul should find enjoyment ; I but, from these
Turning disdainful to an equal good, I
Thro' all the ascend of things enlarge her view, |
Till every bound at length should disappear, |
And infinite perfection clo^e the scene. |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 325
PAPER.
[A CONVERSATIONAL PLEASANTRY.]
(FRANKLIN.)
Some wi of old | such wits of old there were, 1
Whose hints show'd meaning, I whose allusions care, |
By one brave strode, | to mark all human kind, \
Call'd clear blank paper ev'ry infant mine? ; |
Where, still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, I
Fair Virtue put a seal, | or Vice, a blot. |
The thought was happy, pertinent, and true ; |
Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. I
I (can you pardon my presumption ?), | I,
No wk, no genius, | yet, for once, will try. |
Various the paper, various wans produce ; |
The wants of fashion I elegance, I and use. I
Men are as various ; i and if right I scan, I
Each sort of paper i represents some man. |
Pray note the %>, 1 half powder and half lace ; |
Nice, as a band-box were his dwelling place; |
He 's the giU-paper, | which apart you store, I
And lock from vulgar hands in the scrutoire. a
Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth, |
Are copy-paper, I of inferior worth ; |
Less priz'd, I more useful, | for your desk decreed ; \
Free to all pens, | and prompt at ev'ry need. I
The wretch, whom avarice bids to pinch and spare,
Starve, chea, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, |
Is coarse brown paper, I such as pedlars choose |
To wrap up wares, | which better men will use. I
Take next the miser's contrast, \ who destroys I
Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys ; |
* Scrutoire, a case of drawers for writings.
28
326 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Will any paper match Aim ? I Yes, throughout ; |
He 's a true sinking paper, | pas* all doub*. ]
The retail politician's anxious thought |
Deems this side always riglu, | and that stark nought ; >
He foams with censure ; | with applause he raves ; |
A dupe to rumours, | and a tool of knaves ; |
He '11 wan* no type his weakness to proclaim, j
While such a thing as foolscap has a name. I
The hasty gentleman, whose blood runs high, |
Who picks a quarrel if you step awry, |
Who can'* a jes, a hin, or loo&, endure ; I
Wha* is he ? | Wha* ? \ Touch-paper to be sure. |
What are our poets, | take them as they fall, {
Good, | bad, I rich, i poor, | much read, I not read at all ? |
Them and their works in the same class you '11 find : |
They are the mere waste-paper of mankind. |
Observe the maiden, I innocently sweeZ ; I
She 's fair white paper, I an unsullied sheeZ; |
On which the happy man whom fate ordains, |
May write his name, I and take Aer for Ais pains. J
One instance more, I and only one, I '11 bring : |
'T is the greaZ man who scorns a little thing ; |
Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are Ais
own, |
Form'd on the feelings of Ais heart alone :
True, genuine, royal-paper is his breast; |
Of all the kinds most precious, purest, I best. |
MOSES SMITING THE ROCK.
(W. A. VAN VRANKEN.)
On the parch'd plains | the tribes of Israel lay, |
Fatigued and sad, | to raging thirst a prey : |
In that lone region, I in that deser/ drear, |
No streamlet's murmur stole upon the ear ; I
No broo/c pellucid glanc'd its light along, j
To cheer the vision of that fainting throng. |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 327
Nought met the eye | save Horeb's roc& thai frown'd, |
In gloomy grandeur, on the scene around, j
At its broad base, I behold the patriarch stand, |
And with Ais roc?, a.t the Divine command, ]
Smite its dar& fronZ ; | o'erawed by Power Supreme, 1
Its riven breast expell'd a copious stream ; |
The new-born waters pour'd their torrents wide, I
And foam'd, and thunder'd, down its craggy side. |
At the glad sound each Hebrew mother there ]
Her infant clasp'd, | and look'd to Heaven a prayer : |
Joy thrill'd all hearts ; J for lo ! the sunbeams play, |
In radiant glory, on the flashing spray |
ThaZ dash'd its crystals o'er the rocky pile, |
A beauteous emblem of Jehovah's smile. |
TIME.
(W. A. VAN VRANKEN.)
My silent and mysterious flight I
Reveals each morn the glorious light I
Tha gilds the passing year ; |
I never stop to lest my wing : |
Triumphant on the blasZ I spring |
My plumage, dar& and sere. I
Onward I speed my flight sublime ; 1
Before me withers manhood's prime, I
While pillar, dome, and tower, |
And massy piles, and temples grand, I
Lie crush'd beneath my iron hand |
Resistless is my power. |
Remorseless boaster, hold / | thy wings |
May sweep aside earth's mightiest things, |
Mere creatures of an hour : I
Thou cansZ not reach the Heavenly bloom, |
Celestial tints, and rich perfume, I
Of virtue's lovely flower. I
328 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION
TO THE AMERICAN FLAG.
(DRAKE AND HALLECK.)
When freedom from her mountain heigh* |
Unfurl'd Aer standard to the air, |
She tore the azure ro6e of nigh*, |
And set the stars of glory there ! |
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes |
The milky baldric of the skies, |
And striped its pure celestial white, |
With streakings from the morning ligh* / |
Then, from h is mansion in the sun, |
She called her eagle-bearer down, |
And gave into his mighty hand |
The symbol of her chosen land / |
Majestic monarch of the cloud / 1
Who rear's* aloft thy regal form, |
To hear the tempes* trumping loud, |
And see the lightning lances driven, |
When strides the warrior of the storm, |
And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven ! I
Child of the sun ! |to thee 't is given |
To guard the banner of the free '
To hover in the sulphur smoke, |
To ward away the battle-strode, |
And bid its blendings shine afar, I
Li&e rainbows on the cloud of war, I
The harbinger of victory ! I
Flag of the brave ! I thy folds shall fly, J
The sign of hope and triumph high ! |
When speaks the signal-trumpets tone, I
And the long line comes gleaming on ; |
Ere ye* the life-blood, warm and we*, |
Has dimm'd the glistening bayone* I
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn, |
To where thy meteor glories burn, I
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 329
And as Ms springing steps advance, I
Catch war and vengeance from the glance 1 1
And when the cannon's mouthings loud, |
Heave in wild wreaths the battle-shroud, |
And gory sabres rise and fall, |
Like shoots of flame on midnight pall ! 1
There shall thy victor glances glow, |
And cowering foes shall fall beneath |
Each gallant arm tha strikes below |
That lovely messenger of death ! |
Flag- of the seas !| on ocean's wave, |
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave. |
When death, careering on the gale, I
Sweeps darkly round the swelling sail, I
And frighted waves rush wildly back |
Before the broadside's reeling rack ; |
The dying wanderer of the sea |
Shall look at once to heaven and thee, 1
And smile to see thy splendours fly, I
In triumph o'er the closing eye. ]
Flag of the free heart's only home, I
By angel hands to valour given ! I
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome |
And all thy hues were born in heaven ; |
For ever float that standard sheet ! |
Where breathes the foe but falls before us, |
With freedom's soil beneath our feet, |
And freedom's banner streaming o'er us ! |
MOTIVES TO THE PRACTICE OF GENTLENESS.
(BLAIR.)
To promote the virtue of gentleness, | we ough to
view our character with an impartial eye; I and to
learn, from our own failings, | to give thai indulgence
which in our turn we claim. | It is pride which fills
the world with so much harshness and severity. | In
28*
330 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
the fulness of self-estimation, I we forged wha we are. \
We claim attentions to which we are not entitled. ;
We are rigorous to offences, | as if we had never offend-
ed; | unfeeling to distress, | as if we knew not what it
was to suffer. | From those airy regions of pride and
folly, | let us descend to our proper level. I Let us
survey the natural equality | on which Providence has
placed man with man, | and reflect on the infirmities
common to all. | If the reflection on natural equality
and mutual offences, I be insufficient to prompt hu-
manity, | let us at leas* remember wha we are in the
sigh of our Creator. I Have we none of thai forbear-
ance to give one another, | which we all so earnestly
entreat from heaven ? I Can we look for clemency or
gentleness from our Judge, | when we are so backward
to show it to our own brethren ? |
Let us also accustom ourselt-es | to reflect on the
small moment of those things I which are the usual in-
centives to violence and contention. | In the ruffled
and angry hour, | we view every appearance through
a false medium. I The most inconsiderable poin* of
interest or honour, j swells into a momentous object ; |
and the slightest attac/D seems to threaten immediate
ruin. | Bu after passion or pride has subsided, | we
look around in vain for the mighty mischiefs we dread-
ed. | The fabric which our disturbed imagination had
reared, I totally disappears. I BuZ though the cause of
contention has dwindled away, I its consequences re-
main, j We have alienated a friend ; | we have em-
bittered an enemy ; | we have sown the seeds of future
suspicion, malevolence, or disgust. | Let us suspend
our violence for a moment, I when causes of discord
occur. | Let us anticipate that period of coolness, !
which, of itself, will soon 'arrive. | Let us reflect how
little we have any prospect of gaining by fierce con-
tention; I lout how mucli of the true happiness of life j
we are certain of throwing away. | Easily, and from
the smallest chinA;, | the bitter waters of strife are let
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 331
fortn ; | but their course cannot be foreseen ; | and he
seldom fails of suffering most from their poisonous
effect, I who first allows them to flow. I
ON THE IMPORTANCE OF ORDER IN THE DISTRIBUTION
OF OUR TIME.
(BLAIR.)
Time we ought to consider | as a sacred trust com-
mitted to us by God ; \ of which we are now the de-
positaries, I and are to render an account at the las. |
ThaZ portion of it which he has allotted to us, | is in-
tended partly for the concerns of this world, | partly
for those of the nex. | Let each of these occupy, | in
the distribution of our time, | that space which pro-
perly belongs to it. 1 Le not the hours of hospitality
and pleasure, I interfere with the discharge of our neces-
sary affairs ; I and let not what we call necessary affairs, |
encroach upon the time which is due to devotion. | To
every thing there is a season, | and a time for every
purpose under heaven. I If we delay till to-morrow,
whai ough* to be done to-day, | we overcharge the
morrow with a burden which belongs not to it. \ We
load the wheels of time, I and prevent them from carry-
ing us along smoothly. I He who every morning plans
the transactions of the day, I and follows out that plan, I
carries on a thread | which will guide Aim through the
labyrinth of the most busy life. | The orderly arrange-
ment of his time is Me a ray of light, | which darts
itself through all his affairs. I BuZ, where no plan is
laid, | where the disposal of time I is surrendered mere-
ly to the chance of incidents, I all things lie huddled
together in one chaos, | which admits neither of distri-
bution nor review. I
The first requisite for introducing order into the
management of time, I is, to be impressed with a just
sense of its value. I Let us consider well how much
depends upon it, and how fast it flies away. | The
332 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
bulk of men are in nothing more capricious and incon-
sistent, I than in their appreciation of time. | When
they think of it as the measure of their continuance
on earth, I they highly prize it, I and with the greatest
anxiety seek to lengthen it out. \ Rut when they view
it in separate parcels, | they appear to hold it in con-
tempt, I and squander it with inconsiderate profusion, j
While they complain that life is short, I they are often
wishing its different periods at an end. \ Covetous of
every other possession, | of time only they are prodi-
gal. | They allow every idle man to be master of this
property, I and make every frivolous occupation wel-
come | that can help them to consume it. | Among
those who are so careless of time, | it is not to be
expected | that order should be observed in its distribu-
tion. I Bu, by this fatal neglect, I how many materi-
als of severe and lasting regret I are they laying up in
store for themselves ! I The time which they suffer to
pass away in the mids of confusion, | bitter repentance
seeks afterwards in vain to recall. I What was omit-
ted to be done at its proper moment, | arises to be the
torment of some future season. | Manhood is dis-
graced by the consequences of neglected youth. I Old
.. age, | oppressed by cares that belonged to a former
period, | labours under a burden not its own. I At the
close of life, I the dying man beholds with anguish that
Ais days are finishing, I when his preparation for
eternity is hardly commenced. I Such are the effects
of a disorderly waste of time, I through not attending
to its value. I Every thing in the life of such persons
is misplaced. I Nothing is performed aright, | from not
being performed in due season. I
~But he who is orderly in the distribution of his time, |
takes the proper method of escaping those manifold
evils. | He is justly said to redeem the time. | By
proper management, he prolongs it. I He lives much
in little space ; I more in a few years, than others do in
many. I He can live to God and Ais own soul, I and
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 333
at the same time, | attend to all the lawful interests of
the present world. I He looks back on the pasi, | and
provides for the future. | He catches and arresis the
hours as they fly. | They are marked down for useful
purposes, | and their memory remains. I Whereas those
hours fieei by the man of confusion like a shadow. |
His days and years are either blanks, | of which he
has no remembrance, | or they are filled up with so
confused and irregular a succession of unfinished trans-
actions, | thai though he remembers he has been busy, |
yet he can give no account of the business which has
employed him. \
INDUSTRY NECESSARY TO THE ATTAINMENT OP
ELOQUENCE.
(WARE.)
The history of the world is full of testimony | to
prove how much depends upon industry ; I not an emi-
nent orator has lived bui is an example of it. \ Yei,
in contradiction to all this, I the almost universal feel-
ing appears to be, 1 thai industry can effect nothing, |
thai eminence is the resuli of accident, I and thai every
one musi be conteni ! to remain jusi whai he may hap-
pen to be. | Thus multitudes, who come forward as
eachers and guides, I suffer themselves to be satisfied
,vith the mosi indifferent attainments, | and a miserable
mediocrity, | withoui so much as inquiring how they
may rise higher, I much less making any attempt to
rise. |
For any other art they would have served an ap-
prenticeship, | and would be ashamed to practise it in
public before they had learned it. I If any one would
sing, | he attends a master, | and is drilled in the very
elementary principles ; I and only after the mosi labori-
ous process, I dares to exercise his voice in public. |
This he does, | though he has scarce any thing to learn
but the mechanical execution ! of whai lies in sensible
334 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
forms before the eye. | Bui the extempore speaker, |
who is to invent as well as to utter, I to carry on an
operation of the mind | as well as to produce sound, |
enters upon the wor/c without preparatory discipline, |
and then wonders thai he fails ! |
If he were learning to play on the flute for public
exhibition, I whai hours and days would he spend in
giving facility to his fingers, 1 and attaining the power
of the sweetest and most expressive execution ! \ If he
were devoting himself to the organ, I whai months and
years would he labour, I thai he mighi know its com-
pass, 1 and be master of its keys, I and be able to draw
out, at will, | all its various combinations of harmoni-
ous sound, | and its full richness and delicacy of expres-
sion ! | And yet he will fancy thai the grandest, | the
most various and most expressive of all instruments, ]
which the infinite Creator has fashioned | by the union
of an intellectual soul with the powers of speech, | may
be played upon without study or practice ; I he comes
to it a mere uninstructed tyro, I and thinks to manage
all its stops, | and command the whole compass of its
varied and comprehensive power ! I He finds Aimself
a bungler in the attempt, I is mortified at Ms failure, |
and settles it in his mind for ever, thai the attempi is
vain. |
Success in every ari, I whatever may be the natural
taleni, I is always the reward of industry and pains. |
Bui the instances are many, | of men of the finesi
natural genius, | whose beginning has promised much, |
but who have degenerated wretchedly as they ad-
vanced, | because they trusted to their gifis, | and made
no efforts to improve. | Thai there have never been
other men I of equal endowments with Demosthenes
and Cicero, | none would venture to suppose ; I bui who
have so devoted themselves to their ari, | or become
equal in excellence? I If those greai men had been
conteni, like others, | to continue as they began, i and
had never made their persevering efforts for improve-
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 335
rnenZ, | whai would their countries have benefited from
their genius, I or the world have known of their fame ? I
They would have been lost in the undistinguished
crowd j thai sun/t to oblivion around them. I
THE DESTRUCTION OF SENACHERIB.
(BYRON.)
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, |
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold / |
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, j
When the blue w T ave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. |
Like the leaves of the fores* when summer is green, j
Thai hosi with their banners ai sunsei were seen : |
Li&e the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, |
Thai host on the morrow i lay wither'd and strown. |
For the angel of death ! spread his wings on the blasi, j
And breath'd in the face of the foe as he pass'd ; j
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, |
And their hearts but once heav'd, | and for ever were
still! |
And there lay the steed with his nostrils all wide, I
Bui through them there roll'd not the breath of his
pride ; |
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, |
And cold as the spray on the roc/c-beating surf, i
And there lay the rider, | distorted and pale, j
With the dew on his brow | and the rusi on his mail ; |
And the tents were all sileni, I the banners alone, |
The lances unlifted, | the trumpei unblown, j
And the widows of Ashur | are loud in their wail, i
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; I
And the might of the Gentile, i unsmote by the sword, j
Hath melted like snow I in the glance of the Lord / |
336 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
LOCHINVAR.*
(SCOTT.)
O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, j
Through all the wide border his steed was the best ; I
And save his good broadsword, I he weapon had none, i
He rode all unarm'd, I and he rode all alone. I
So faithful in love, | and so dauntless in war, |
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. |
He staid not for brake, I and he stopped not for stone, |
He swam the Eske river | where ford there was none ; j
But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, |
The bride had consented, | the gal'lant came late : j
For a laggard in love, I and a dastard in war, |
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. I
So, boldly he entered the Netherby hall, |
Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and
all: |
Then spoke the bride's father, I his hand on his sword, I
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) |
" O come ye in peace here, | or come ye in war, |
Or to dance at our bridal, [ young lord Lochinvar ?" |
'* I long woo'd your daughter, 1 my suit you denied ; |
Love swells like the Solway, I but ebbs like its tide ; j |
And now am I come, I with this lost love of mine, I
To lead but one measure, I drink one cup of wine. I
There are maidens in Scotland, i more lovely by far, !
That would gladly be bride I to the young Lochinvar." |
* The ballad of Lochinvar is in a very slight degree founded on
a ballad called " Katharine Janfarie," which may be found in the
" Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border/'
f See the novel of Red gauntlet, for a detailed picture of some of
the extraordinary phenomena of the spring-tides in the Solway
Fritn.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 337
The bride kiss'd the goblet ; I the knight took it up, |
He quaff'd off the wine, I and he threw down the cup. j
She look'd down to blush, I and she look'd up to sigh, |
With a smile on her lips, | and a tear in her eye. |
He took her soft hand, | ere her mother could bar, |
" Now tread we a measure !" | said young Lochinvar. I
So stately his form, I and so lovely her face, I
That never a hall such a galliard a did grace : |
While her mother did fret, I and her father did fume, |
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and
plume ; |
And the bride-maidens whisper'd, I " 'T were better by
far)
To have match'd our fair cousin with young Lochin-
var." |
One touch to her hand, | and one word in her ear, |
When they reach'd the hall-door, ! and the charger
stood near ; I
So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, |
So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! I
" She is won ! I we are gone, I over bank, bush and
scaur ; b |
They Ml have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young
Lochinvar. |
There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby
clan ; I
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, | they rode and
they ran : I
There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lee, J
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. |
So daring in love, I and so dauntless in war, 1
Have ye e'er heard of gal'lant, like young Lochinvar ! I
* G&l'ydrd. b Sk&r, a craggy, stony hill ; a cliff, cleft, or divi-
sion, or separation in a bank, hill, or any thing else.
29 Y
338 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
CASABIANCA.*
(MRS. HEMANS.)
The boy stood on the burning dec&, |
Whence all bu* him had fled ; |
The flame tha* lit the battle's wrecfc, I
Shone round him o'er the dead. I
Ye* beautiful and bright he stood, |
As born to rule the storm ; |
A creature of heroic blood, |
A proud, though child-li&e form. I
The flames roll'd on | he would no* go,
Without his father's word ; |
Tha* father, fain* in death below, j
His voice no longer heard. |
He call'd aloud | " Say, father, say |
If yet my task is done ?" I
He knew not that the chieftain lay |
Unconscious of his son. |
" Spea&, father !" | once again he cried, |
" If I may ye* be gone !" |
And bu* the booming shots replied, I
And fas* the flames roll'd on. |
Upon his brow he felt their breath, |
And in his waving hair ; I
And look'd from that lone pos* of death, 1
In still, ye* brave despair. |
* Young Casablanca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to tho
admiral of the Orient, remained at his post (in the battle of the
Nile,) after the ship had taken fire, and all the guns had been
abandoned ; and perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the
flames had reached the powder.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 339
And shouted but once more , alow/, |
" My father ! must I stay ?" |
While o'er him fas/, through sail and shroud, 1
The wreathing fires made way. |
They wrap/ the ship in splendor wild, j
They caugh/ the flag on high, |
And stream'd above the gallant child, |
Li/te banners in the sky. |
There came a burs* of thunder sound 1
The boy I oh ! where was he ? |
AsA; of the winds tha/ far around |
With fragments strew'd the sea ! |
With mas/, and helm, and pennon fair, |
Tha/ well had borne their par/ I
Bu/ the nobles/ thing tha/ perish'd there, |
Was tha/ young faithful hear/. ]
MEETING OF SATAN, SIN, AND DEATH.
(MILTON.)
Meanwhile the adversary of God and man, |
Satan, I with thoughts inflarn'd of highes/ design, |
Puts on swift wings, ! and towards the gates of Hell j
Explores Ais solitary fligh/ ; I sometimes
He scours the righ/ hand coast, | sometimes the left ; \
Now shaves with level wing the dee;?, i then soars
Up to the fiery concave I towering high. |
As when far off a/ sea a flee/ descried |
Hangs in the clouds, 1 by equinoctial winds |
Close sailing from Bengala, I or the isles
Of Terna/e and Tidore, I whence merchants bring
Their spicy drugs ; I they, on the trading flood, |
Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, I
Ply, | stemming nightly toward the pole : | so seenVd
Far off* the flying fiend. I
340 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
At last appear
Hell bounds, | high, reaching to the horrid roof, |
And thrice three fold the gates : | three folds were
brass, |
Three iron, I three of adamantine rocA:
Impenetrable, I impaled with circling fire, |
Ye* unconsum'd. I Before the gates | there sat,
On either side, | a formidable shape : I
The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair ; I
Bu ended foul in many a scaly fold |
Voluminous and \ast, I a serpent, arm'd
With mortal sting ; I about her middle round |
A cry of hell-hounds, never ceasing, bark'd |
With wide Cerberean mouths I full loud, and rung
A hideous peal ! |
Far less abhorr'd than these |
Vex'd Scylla, a | bathing in the sea i that parts
Calabria b | from the hoarse Trinacrian c shore ; I
Nor uglier follow the night hag, when, call'd
In secret, I riding through the air, she comes, |
Lured with the smell of infant blood, | to dance
With Lapland witches, I while the labouring moon |
Eclipses at their charms. |
The other shape, |
If shape it mighZ be call'd | that shape had none ]
Distinguishable in member, join, or limb; |
Or substance might be call'd | that shadow seem'd; i
For each seem'd either ; I blacA; it stood as night, \
Fierce as ten furies, I terrible as Hell, |
And shook a dreadful dart ; I what seem'd his head \
The likeness of a kingly crown had on. |
a SCYLLA, a fabled monster, of whom mention is made in the
Odyssey. She is said to have twelve feet and six long necks, with
a terriric head, and three rows of close-set teeth, on each.
b CALABRIA, the part of Italy occupied by the ancient Calabri.
, one of the ancient names of Sicily.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 341
Satan was now at hand ; I and from his seat I
The monster, moving, I onward came as fas, |
With horrid strides ; I Hell trembled as he strode. I
The undaunted fiend I wha this might be admired, |
Admired, | not fear'd : I God and his Son except I
Created thing I naught valued he, | nor shunn'd ; j
And with disdainful loo& | thus first began : |
" Whence and wha* art thou, | execrable shape ! I
That dar'sf, | though grim and terrible, | advance
Thy miscreated fron I athwart my way
To yonder gates ? I through them I mean to pass, I
That be assured, I without leave ask'd of thee. j
Retire, I or taste thy folly ; I and learn by proof, |
Hell-born ! | not to contend with spirits of Heaven !" |
To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied, |
" Art thou that traitor angel, I art thou he
Who first broke peace in heaven, I and faith, | till then
Unbroken, I and in proud rebellious arms |
Drew after him the third par of Heaven's sons, I
Conjured against the Highest, I for which both thou
And they, I outcast from God, I are here condemned I
To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? I
And reckonesZ thou thyself with spirits of Heaven, |
Hell-doom'd / I and breath's^ defiance here and scorn, |
Where I reign king, I and, to enrage thee more, |
Thy king, and lord ? \ BacA; to thy punishment, I
False fugitive ! I and to thy speed add wings, |
Les with a whip of scorpions I I pursue
Thy lingering, | or with one stro/ce of this dart I
Strange horror seize thee, I and pangs unfeU before." |
So spa&e the grisly terror, | and in shajoe, |
So speaking and so threat'ning, 1 grew tenfold
More dreadful and deform. I On the other side, |
Incens'd with indignation, | Satan stood
Unterrified, ! and like a corned burn'd, |
29*
342 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Thai fires the length of Ophiucus a huge |
In the arctic sky, | and from his horrid hair I
Shakes pestilence and war. |
Each at the head |
LevelPd his deadly aim ; | their fatal hands |
No second strode intend ; | and such a frown
Each cast at the other, I as when two black clouds 1
With heaven's artillery fraught, ( come rattling on
Over the Caspian, | then stand front to front \
Hovering a space, | till winds the signal blow |
To join their darA: encounter in mid air : |
So frown'd the mighty combatants, I tha hell
Grew darker at their frown ; I so match'd they stood; I
For never but once more | was either like
To meet so great a foe. | And now great deeds
H&d been achiev'd, | whereof 6 all Hell had rung, |
Had not the snaky sorceress | that sat
Fast by Hell-gate, I and kepi the fatal key, I
Risen, | and with hideous outcry rush'd between. |
WOMAN.
(CAMPBELL.)
In joyous youth, what soul hath never known I
Thought, feeling, taste, harmonious to its own? |
Who hath not paused while Beauty's pensive eye |
Ask'd from his heart the homage of a sigh 1 \
Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, !
The power of grace, '| the magic of a name? |
There be, perhaps, who barren hearts avow, |
Cold as the rocks on Torneo's hoary brow ; |
There be, whose loveless wisdom never fail'd, I
In self-adoring pride securely mail'd ; |
OPHIUCUS, a constellation. > WMr-6f .
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 343
But, triumph noZ, ye peace-enamour'd few ! |
Fire, Nature, Genius, never dweU with you ! J
For you no fancy consecrates the scene I
Where rapture utter'd vows, and wep* between :
'T is yours, unmoved, to sever and to meet ; I
No pledge is sacred, 1 and no home is sweei / I
Who tha would asA; a heart to dullness wed, I
The waveless calm, | the slumber of the dead ? (
No ; | the wild bliss of nature needs alloy, |
And fear and sorrow fan the fire of joy ! |
And say without our hopes, without our fears, |
Without the home thai plighted love endears, |
Without the smile from partial beauty won, I
O ! wha* were man ? I a world without a sun , i
Till Hymen brought ^is love-delighted hour, |
There dwelt no joy in Eden's rosy bower ! I
In vain the viewless seraph lingering there, I
A* starry midnight charm'd the silent air ; ]
In vain the wild-bird carol'd on the steep, |
To hail the sun, slow-wheeling from the deep ; \
In vain, to soothe the solitary shade, |
Aerial notes in mingling measure play'd ; |
The summer wind thai shook the spangled tree, I
The whispering wave, the murmur of the bee ; i
Still slowly pass'd the melancholy day, I
And still the stranger wist not where" to stray : |
The world was sad/ | the garden was a wild/ I
And man, the hermit sigh'd | till woman smiPd / 1
SINCERITY.
(TILLOTSON.)
Truth and sincerity | have all the advantages of ap
pearance, and many more. | If the show of any thing
be good, ! I am sure the reality is better ; | for why
344 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
does any man dissemble, a | or seem to be thai which
he is noi, | but because he thinks it good \ to have
the qualities Ae pretends to ? I Now the besi way for
a man to seem to be any thing, | is to be in reality
what he would seem to be : I besides, ) it is often as
troublesome to support the pretence of a good quality, |
as to have it : \ and, if a man have it not, \ it is most
likely he will be discovered to want it ; \ and, then, all
his labour to seem to have it, is lost. \ There is some-
thing unnatural in painting, | which a skilful eye | will
easily discern b from native beauty and complexion. |
Therefore, if any man think it convenient to seem
good, | let him be so indeed ; I and then his goodness
will appear to every one's satisfaction. I Particularly,
as to the affairs of this world, I integrity hath many
advantages I over all the artificial modes of dissimula-
tion and deceit | It is much the plainer and easier, |
much the safer, and more secure way of dealing in the
world; | it has less of trouble and difficulty, | of entan-
glement and perplexity, | of danger and hazard in it. \
The arts of deceit and cunning I continually grow
weaker, and less serviceable to those thai practise
them ; I whereas integrity gains strength by use ; | and
the more and longer any man practiseth it \ the greater
service it does him ; I by confirming Ais reputation, |
and encouraging those with whom he hath to do, | to
repose the greatest confidence in him ; I which is an
unspeakable advantage in business | and the affairs of
life. |
Bui insincerity is very troublesome to manage. | A
hypocrite hath so many things to attend to, I as make
his life a very perplexed and intricate thing. | A liar
hath need of a good memory, | lesi he contradici at one
time, I whai he said at another ; but truth is always
consistent, I and needs nothing to help it oui ; f it is
always near at hand, I and sits upon our lips ; | whereas
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 345
a lie is troublesome, I and needs a great many more to
make it good. I
In a word, I whatsoever convenience may be though*
to be in falsehood and dissimulation, 1 it is soon over ; |
but the inconvenience of it i% perpetual ; I because it
brings a man | under an everlasting jealousy and sus-
picion ; 1 so thai he is not believed when he speaks the
truth ; | nor trusted when, perhaps, he means honestly. |
When a man hath once forfeited the reputation of ^is
integrity, I nothing will then serve his turn ; I neither
truth nor falsehood. |
Indeed, if a man were only to deal in the world for
a day, | and should never have occasion to converse
more with mankind, I it were then no great matter | (as
far as respects the affairs of this world) | if he speni
his reputation all at once ; | or ventured it at one
throw. | Bui if he be to continue in the world, | and
would have the advantage of reputation whilst he is
in it, | lei him make use of truth and sincerity | in all
his words and actions ; | for nothing bui this will hold
oui to the end. | All other arts may fail ; | bui truth
and integrity | will carry a man through, | and bear
Aim out to the last. !
THE UNION OF THE STATES.
(WEBSTER.)
From an Address delivered at Washington City, on the Centennial Anniversarj
of the Birth of Washington.
There was in the breast of Washington | one senti
meni deeply felt, \ so constantly uppermost, | thai no
proper occasion I escaped without its utterance. />
From the letter which he signed in behalf of the con-
vention, | when the constitution was sen* out to the
people, | to the moment when he put his hand to thai
lasi paper, | in which he addressed his countrymen, (
the union was the great object of his thoughts. |
In thai first letter, | he tells them thai to him, | and
346 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
his brethren of the convention, | union is the greatest
interest of every true American ; | and in tha las*
paper I he conjures them to regard that unity of go-
vernment, I which constitutes them one people, j as the
very palladium a of thei$, prosperity and safety, | and
the security of liberty itself. I He regarded the union
of these states, j not so much one of our blessings, ! as
the greaZ treasure-house which contained them all. |
Here, in his judgment, | was the grea magazine of
all our means of prosperity ; | here, as he thought, j and
as every true American still thinks, I are deposited all
our animating prospects, | all our solid hopes for future
greatness. | He has taught us to maintain this govern-
ment, | not by seeking to enlarge its powers on the one
hand, | nor by surrendering them on the other ; | but by
an administration of them, | a.t once firm and moder-
ate, | adapted for objects truly national, | and carried
on in a spirit of justice and equity. |
The extreme solicitude for the preservation of the
union, | at all times manifested by him, \ shows not only
the opinion he entertained of its usefulness, | but his
clear perception of those causes | which were likely to
spring up to endanger it, | and which, | if once they
should overthrow the present system, ! would leave
little fio/?e of any future beneficial reunion. |
Of all the presumptions indulged by presumptuous
man, | tha is one of the rashes^, | which looks for re-
peated and favourable opportunities, | for the deliberate
establishment of a united government, | over distinct
and widely extended communities. | Such a thing has
happened once in human affairs, | and but once : j the
event stands out, as a prominent exception to all ordi-
nary history ; | and, unless we suppose ourselves run-
ning into an age of miracles, | we may no* expect its
repetition. |
a P^l-li'-de-um, [Lat] a statue of Pallas, pretended to be the
guardian of Troy ; thence any security or protection.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 347
Washington, therefore, 1 could regard, I and did re-
gard, | nothing as of paramount political interest, | but
the integrity of the union itself. | With a united go-
vernment, | well administered, | he saw we had nothing
to fear ; | and without it, \ nothing to hope. | The
sentiment is jusi, I and its momentous truth should
solemnly impress the whole country. |
If we mighi regard our country I as personated in
the spirit of Washington ; I if we mighi consider him
as representing her, \ in Aer pasi renown, I her present
prosperity, i and her future career, I and as in thai cha-
racter demanding of us all, | to account for our con-
duct, as political men, I or as private citizens, | how
should he answer him, \ who has ventured to tal/c of
disunion 11 and dismemberment ? b \ Or, how should he
answer him, \ who dwells perpetually on local inter-
ests, | and fans every kindling flame of local prejudice ? |
How should he answer him, \ who would array state
against state, I interest against interest, | and party
against party, | careless of the continuance of thai
unity of government \ which constitutes us one people ? \
Gentlemen, I the political prosperity which this coun-
try has attained, I and which it now enjoys, | it has ac-
quired mainly through the instrumentality of the pre-
sent goverttmeni. | While this ageni continues, the
capacity of attaining to still higher degrees of pros-
perity | exisis also. I We have, while this lasis, | a
political life, capable of beneficial exertion, | with
power to resist or overcome misfortunes, ! to sustain us
against the ordinary accidents of human affairs, | and
to promote, by active efforts, I every public interest |
Bui dismemberment I strikes at the very being which
preserves these faculties ; i it would lay its rude and
ruthless hand | on this greai ageni itself. ! It would
sweep away, not only whai we possess, | but all power
of regaining lost, \ or acquiring new possessions. I It
348 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
would leave the country, I no* only bereft of its pros
perity and happiness, | bui withoui limbs, or organs, or
faculties, I by which to exert itself, hereafter, | in the
pursuit of thai prosperity and happiness. |
Other misfortunes may be borne, | or their effecis
overcome. I If disastrous war sweep our commerce
from the ocean, | another generation may renew ii ; | if
it exAausi our treasury, I future industry may replenish
it ; | if it desolate and lay waste our fields, | still, under
a new cultivation, ! they will grow green again, | and
ripen to future harvests. | It were but a trifle, I even
if the walls of yonder Capitol were to crumble, I if its
lofty pillars should fall, | and its gorgeous decorations
be all covered by the dust of the valley. I
All these might be rebuild | Bui who shall recon-
struct the fabric of demolished government ? \ Who
shall rear again I the well proportioned columns* of
constitutional liberty ? I Who shall frame together the
skilful architecture | which unites national sovereignty j
with state rights, | individual security, and public pros-
perity ? |
No, gentlemen, | if these columns fall, j they will be
raised not again. I Li/ce the Colise'um b and the Par-
thenon, 1 they will be destined to a mournful, \ a melan-
choly immortality. I Bitterer tears, however, will flow
over them, i than were ever shed over the monuments
of Roman or Grecian art ; for they will be the rem-
nants of a more glorious edifice I than Greece or Rome
ever saw | the edifice of constitutional American
liberty. |
Bui, gentlemen, i lei us hope for better things. | Let
us trusi in thai Gracious Being, I who has hitherto held
our country | as in the holl jw of ^is hand. | Let us
trusi to the virtue and the intelligence of the people, ]
K6l'l&mi. I COLISE'UM, an amphitheatre at Rome, in which
the people assembled to witness the combats of gladiators and wild
beas{s. It is said to be capable of containing 60,000 spectators.
* PAR'THENON, a celebrated temple at Athens, sacred to Minerva.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 349
and to the efficacy of religious obligation. I Let us
trust to the influence of Washington's example. | Let
us hope that tha fear of Heaven, | which expels all
other fear, and that regard to duty, I which transcends
all other regard, I may influence public men and pri-
vate citizens,! and lead our country still onward in her
happy career. |
Full of these gratifying anticipations and hopes, | let
us look forward to the end of tha* century | which is
now commenced. A hundred years hence, I other dis-
ciples of Washington ! will celebrate his birth, | with
no less of sincere admiration I than we now commemo-
rate it. | When they shall meet, \ as we now meet, \ to
do themselves and him that honour, j so surely as they
shall see the blue summits of his native mountains |
rise in the horizon ; I so surely as they shall behold the
river | on whose banks he lived, | and on whose banks
he rests, \ still flowing to the sea ; I so surely may they
see, | as we now see, | the flag of the union floating on
the top of the Capitol ; I and then, as now, 1 may the
sun in his course | visi* no land more free, I more happy, |
more lovely, | than this our own country. |
RECEPTION OF COLUMBUS ON HIS RETURN TO SPAIN.
(WASHINGTON IRVING.)
The fame of Ais discovery I had resounded through-
out the nation, | and as Ais route | lay through several
of the fines* I and mos* populous provinces of Spain, |
his journey appeared like the progress of a sovereign. |
Wherever he passed, I the surrounding country poured
forth its inhabitants, ] who lined the road and thronged
the villages. | In the large towns, | the streets, win-
dows, and balconies, | were filled with eager specta-
tors. I who ren the air with acclamations. I
His journey was continually impeded I by the multi-
tude | pressing to gain a sigh* of him, \ and of the In-
dians, | who were regarded with as much admiration ]
30
350 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
as if they had been natives of another plane*. | It was
impossible to satisfy the craving curiosity j which as-
sailed Aimself and his attendants, | at every stage, I
with innumerable questions: j popular rumour, as usual, |
had exaggerated the truth, | and had filled the newly-
found country with all kinds of wonders. |
It was about the middle of April, I that Columbus
arrived at Barcelona, ) where every preparation had
been made I to give Mm a solemn and magnificent re-
ception. | The beauty and serenity of the weather, |
in ihat genial season and favoured climate, I contributed
to give splendour to this memorable ceremony. | As
he drew near the place, | many of the more youthful
courtiers, I and hidal'gos a of gallant bearing, I together
with a vast concourse of the populace, | came forth to
meet and welcome him. \
His entrance into this noble city I has been compared
to one of those triumphs, | which the Romans were ac-
customed to decree to conquerors. | Firs* were para-
ded the Indians, I painted according to their savage
fashion, | and decorated with tropical feathers, I and
with their national ornaments of gold; I after these
were borne various kinds of live parrots, | together
with stuffed birds and animals of unknown species, |
and rare plants, supposed to be of precious qualities : j
while great care was taken to make a conspicuous dis-
play of Indian coronets, 1 bracelets, | and other decora-
tions of gold, | which might give an idea of the wealth
of the newly-discovered regions. | After these follow-
ed Columbus, on horseback, ! surrounded by a brilliant
cavalcade of Spanish chivalry. |
The streets were almost impassable from the count-
less multitude; I the windows and balconies were
crowded with the fair ; I the very roofs were covered
with spectators. | It seemed, as if the public eye could
not be sated | with gazing on these trophies of an un-
* Hidal'go, (Spanish) a noble man or woman.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 351
known world, | or on the remarkable man by whom it
had been discovered, i There was a sublimity in this
even*, | thai mingled a solemn feeling with the public
joy. | It was looked upon as a vasi and signal dispen-
sation of Providence, I in reward for the piety of the
monarchs ; I and the majestic and venerable appearance
of the discoverer, I so different from the youth and
buoyancy* | thai are generally expected from roving
enterprise, 1 seemed in harmony with the grandeur and
dignity of his achievement. I
To receive him with suitable pomp and distinction, |
the sovereigns had ordered their throne to be placed
in public, | under a rich canopy of brocade b of gold, )
in a vasi and splendid saloon. | Here the king and
queen awaited Ais arrival, | seated in state with the
prince Juan beside them, I and attended by the digni-
taries of their couri, j and the principal nobility of
Castile, | Valentia, | Catalonia, | and Arragon, i all im-
patieni to behold the man, i who had conferred so in-
calculable a benefit upon the nation. |
At length Columbus entered the hall, ! surrounded
by a brilliant crowd of cavaliers, I among whom, says
Las Casas, | he was conspicuous for his stately and
commanding person, | which, with his countenance
rendered venerable by fas gray hairs, I gave him the
augusi appearance of a senator of Rome. | A modesi
smile lighted up his features, | showing that he enjoyed
the state and glory in which he came ; | and certainly
nothing could be more deeply moving, | to a mind in-
flamed by noble ambition, | and conscious of having
greatly deserved, I than were these testimonials of the
admiration and gratitude of a nation, | or rather of a
world. |
As Columbus approached, | the sovereigns rose, | as
if receiving a person of the highest ran/c. | Bending
his knees, | he requested to kiss their hands ; | but there
352 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
was some hesitation on the par of their majesties | to
permit this act of vassalage. | Raising him in the
rnos gracious manner, | they ordered Aim to seat Aim-
self in their presence ; | a rare honour in this proud
and punctilious court. |
At the request of their majesties, | Columbus now
gave an account of the mos striking events of A is voy-
age, | and a description of the islands which he had
discovered. 1 He displayed the specimens Ae had
brought 1 of unknown birds and other animals ; | of rare
plants, of medicinal and aromatic virtue ; | of native
gold, | in dusZ, I in crude masses, | or laboured into bar-
baric ornaments ; I and, above all, I the natives of these
countries, | who were objects of intense and inexAaust-
ible interest ; I since there is nothing to man 1 so curi-
ous as the varieties of Ais own species. I All these he
pronounced mere harbingers of greater discoveries I he
had yet to make, | which would add realms of incalcu-
lable wealth to the dominions of their majesties, | and
whole nations of proselytes to the true faith. |
The words of Columbus | were listened to with pro-
found emotion by the sovereigns. | When he had
finished, I they sunk on their knees, I and raising their
clasped hands to heaven, | their eyes filled with tears
of joy and gratitude, | they poured forth thanks and
praises to God for so great a providence ; | all present
followed their example ; I a deep and solemn enthusiasm
pervaded that splendid assembly, 1 and prevented all
common acclamations of triumph. I
The anthem of Te Deum laudamus* \ chanted by
the choir of the royal chapel, 1 with the melodious ac-
companiments of the instruments, rose up from the
midsZ, I in a full body of sacred harmony, I bearing up.
as it were, i the feelings and thoughts of the auditors
to heaven, I ' so that,' says the venerable Las Casas, |
' it seemed as if in that hour they communicated with
a We praise thee, God.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 353
celestial delights.' 1 Such was the solemn and pious
manner I in which the brilliant court of Spain, I cele-
brated this sublime event : \ offering up a grateful tri-
bute of melody and praise ; | and giving glory to God
for the discovery of another world. |
When Columbus retired from the royal presence, I
he was attended to 7iis residence by all the court, I and
followed by the shouting populace. | For many days
he was the object of universal curiosity, I and wherever
he appeared, | he was surrounded by an admiring mul-
titude. |
ADAMS AND JEFFERSON.
(WIRT.)
In the structure of their characters ; | in the course
of their action ; I in the striking coincidences which
marked their high career ; | in the lives and in the
deaths of these illustrious men, I and in thai voice of
admiration and gratitude | which has since bursi, with
one accord, j from the twelve millions of freemen who
people these states, | there is a moral sublimity which
overwhelms the mind, | and hushes all its powers into
silent amazement |
The European, who should have heard the sound |
without apprehending the cause, | would be api to in-
quire, What is the meaning of all this ? | what
have these men done I to elicii this unanimous and
splendid acclamation? I Why has the whole Ameri-
can nation risen up, as one man, | to do them honour, j
and offer to them this enthusiastic homage of the
heart ? \ Were they mighty warriors, I and was the
peal thai we have heard, the shoui of victory ? I
Were they great commanders, returning from their
distant conquests, I surrounded with the spoils of war, i
and was this the sound of their triumphal procession ? j
Were they covered with martial glory in any form, j
and was this the noisy wave of the multitude, | rolling
30* z
354 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
bacA: at their approach V \ Nothing of all this : | No ; j
they were peaceful and aged patriots, \ who, having
served their country together, | through their long and
useful lives, | had now sunA; together to the tomb. |
They had not fought battles ; 1 but they had formed
and moved the great machinery, | of which battles
were only a small, I and, comparatively, trivial conse-
quence. 1 They had not commanded armies ; j but
they had commanded the master springs of the nation, I
on which all its great political, as well as military
movements, depended. I By the wisdom and energy
of their counsels, i and by the potent mastery of their
spirits, | they had contributed preeminently to produce
a mighty revolution, I which has changed the aspect
of the world. |
A revolution which, in one-half of that world, | has
already restored man to his ' long lost liberty ;' | and
government to its only legitimate object, I the happi-
ness of the people : | and, on the other hemisphere, |
has thrown a light so strong, | that even the darkness
of despotism is beginning to recede. |
Compared with the solid glory of an achievement
like this, | wha are battles, I and wha the pomp of
war, | but the poor and fleeting pageants of a theatre ? |
What were the selfish and petty strides of Alexander, |
to conquer a little section of a savage world, | com-
pared with this generous, this magnificent advance |
towards the emancipation of the entire world / I
And this, be it remembered, ! has been the fruit of
intellectual exertion !! the triumph of mind/ | Whaz
a proud testimony ! does it bear to the character of our
nation, I that it is able to make a proper estimate 1 of
services like these ! That while, in other countries, |
the senseless mob fall down in stupid admiration, | be-
fore the bloody wheels of the conqueror ! even of
the conqueror by accident | in this, our people rise,
with one accord, 1 to pay their homage to intellect and
virtue !
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 355
WhaZ a cheering pledge does it give I of the stability
of our institutions, | that while abroad, | the yet be-
nighted multitude I are prostrating themselves before
the idols, | which their own hands have fashioned into
kings, | here, in this land of the free, | our people are
everywhere starting up, with one impulse, I to follow
with their acclamations | the ascending spirits of the
greaJ fathers of the republic / |
This is a spectacle I of which we may be permitted
to be proud. I It honours our country no less than the
illustrious dead. I And could these greaj patriots
spea/c to us from the tomb, I they would tell us that
they have more pleasure in the testimony, | which
these honours bear to the character of their country, |
than in that, which they bear to their individual ser-
vices. |
They now see as they were seen, while in the body, |
and know the nature of the feeling from which these
honours flow. | It is love for love. | It is the grati-
tude of an enlightened nation | to the nobles* order of
benefactors. I It is the only glory worth the aspira-
tion of a generous spirit. | Who would not prefer this
living tomb in the hearts of his countrymen, I to the
proudest mausoleum that the genius of sculpture could
erect / 1
Jefferson and Adams were greaZ men by nature. |
No great and eccentric minds, | 'shot madly from
their spheres/ | to affright the world and scatter pesti-
lence in their course, I bu minds whose strong and
steady lights, | restrained within their proper orbits |
by the happy poise of their characters, I came to cheer
and gladden a world | that had been buried for ages in
political night. |
They were heaven-called avengers of degraded man. {
They came to lift him to the station for which God had
formed him, | and to put to flight those idiot supersti-
tions, | with which tyrants had contrived to inthral his
reason and his liberty. | And that Being, who had
356 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
sent them upon this mission, | had fitted them, pre-
eminently, for his glorious \vork. I He filled their
hearts with a love of country i which burned strong
within them, even in death. | He gave them a power
of understanding | which no sophistry could baffle, j no
art elude ; I and a moral heroism which no dangers
could appal. I
Careless of themselves, I reckless of all personal con-
sequences, ! trampling under foot that petty ambition
of office and honour, I which constitutes the master-
passion of little minds, I they bent all their mighty
powers I to the task for which they had been dele-
gated | the freedom of their beloved country, | and
the restoration of fallen man. I They Mt that they
were apostles of human liberty ; ! and well did they
fulfil their high commission. I They rested not till
they had accomplished their work at home, I and given
such an impulse to the great ocean of mind, | thai they
saw the waves rolling on the farthest shore, i before
they were called to their reward. I And then left the
world, hand in hand, I exulting, as they rose, in the
success of their labours. I
AN ADDRESS TO A YOUNG STUDENT.
(KNOX.)
Your parents have watched over your helpless in-
fancy, | and conducted you, with many a pang, | to an
age at which your mind is capable of manly improve-
ment. 1 Their solicitude still continues, | and no trou-
ble nor expense is spared, | in giving you all the in-
structions and accomplishments i which may enable
you to act your part in life, | as a man of polished
sense and confirmed virtue. I
You have, then, | already contracted a great deb* o,
gratitude to them. | You can pay it by no other
method, I but by using properly ! the advantages which
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 357
their goodness has afforded you. | If your own en-
deavours are deficient, I it is in vain ihat you have
tutors, | books, i and all the external apparatus of lite-
rary pursuits. | You must love learning, | if you would
possess it. | In order to love it, \ you must feel its
delights ; j in order to feel its delights, | you mus* apply
to it, | however irksome at first, j closely, constantly,
and for a considerable time. ]
If you have resolution enough to do this, I you can
not but love learning ; I for the mind always loves that i
to which it has been so long, | steadily, I and voluntarily
attached. I Habits are formed, | which render what
was at first disagreeable, | not only pleasant, but neces-
sary. | Pleasant indeed, | are all the paths which lead
to polite and elegant literature. I Yours then is surely
a lot particularly happy. I Your education is of such
a sort, | that its principal scope i is to prepare you to
receive a refined pleasure during your life, i
Elegance, or delicacy of taste, I is one of the first
objects of classical discipline ; | and it is this fine qual-
ity | which opens a new world to the scholar's view. |
Elegance of taste I has a connexion with many virtues, I
and all of them virtues of the most amiable kind. | It
tends to render you at once good and agreeable ; | you
must therefore be an enemy to your own enjoyment, |
if you enter on the discipline ) which leads to the at-
tainment of a classical and liberal education, I with
reluctance. I Value duly the opportunities you enjoy, |
and which are denied to thousands of your fellow-crea-
tures. |
By laying in a store of useful knowledge, adorning
your mind with elegant literature, | improving and
establishing your conduct by virtuous principles, | you
cannoZ fail of being a comfort to those friends who
have supported you, ! of being happy within yourself, |
and of being well received by mankind, j Honour
and success in life will probably attend you. | Under
all circumstances | vou will have an eternal source of
S58 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
consolation and entertainment, | of which no sublunary
vicissitude can deprive you. I
Time will show how much wiser hds been your
choice I than tha of your idle companions, I who would
gladly have drawn you into their association, | or
rather into their conspiracy, | as it has been called, |
against good manners, | and againsZ all that is honour-
able and useful. I While you appear in society | as a
respectable and valuable member of \t, \ they will, per-
haps, | have sacrificed at the shrine of vanity, I pride, I
and extravagance, I and false pleasure, | their health
and their sense, | their fortune and their characters. !
A.CCOUNT CURRENT.
(ANONYMOUS.)
Woman, /
Oh, the woe that woman brings ! I
Source of sorrow, grief and pain ! 1
All our evils have their springs, |
In the first of female train. |
Eve by eating led poor Adam \
Out of Eden, and astray ; |
Look for sorrow still where Madam, |
Pert and proud, directs the way. I
Courtship is a slavish pleasure, I
Soothing a coquettish train ; I
Wedded what the mighty treasure?
Doom'd to drag a golden chain. |
Noisy clac& and constant brawling, !
Discord and domestic strife ; |
Empty cupboard, | children bawling, j
Scolding woman made a wife. |
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 359
Gaudy dress and haughty carriage, |
Love's fond balance fled and gone ; |
These, the bitter fruits of marriage ! ;
He that 's wise will live alone ! I
Contra, Or.
Oh ! \\hat joys from woman spring, I
Source of bliss and purest peace, I
Eden could no* comfort bring, I
Till fair woman show'd her face. I
When she came, | good honest Adam I
Clasp'd the gift with open arms, I
He left Eden for his madam, j
So our parent prized her charms. |
Courtship thrills the soul with pleasure ; I
Virtue's blush on beauty's cheeA; : |
Happy prelude to a treasure I
Kings have left their crowns to see& / |
Lovely looks and constant courting, I
Sweet'ning all the toils of life ; I
Cheerful children, harmless sporting. I
Lovely woman made a wife ! )
Modest dress and gentle carriage, |
Love triumphant on his throne ; |
These the blissful fruits of marriage ]
None but fools would live alone. 1
SCHEMES OF LIFE OFTEN ILLUSORY.
(DR. JOHNSON.)
Omar, the son of Hassan, 1 had passed seventy-five
years in honour and prosperity. I The favour of three
successive califs a | had filled his house with gold and
Ki'llf, a title assumed by the successors of Mahomet among the
Saracens
360 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
silver ; | and whenever he appeared, 1 the benedictions
of the people proclaimed his passage. |
Terrestrial happiness is of short continuance. |
The brightness of the flame is wasting its fuel ; | the
fragrant flower is passing away in its own odours. '
The vigour of Omar began to fail ; | the curls of beauty
fell from his head ; | strength departed from his hands ;' !
and agility from his feet. \ He gave bac/c to the calif
the keys of trusZ, I and the seals of secresy : | and
sought no other pleasure for the remains of life, than
the converse of the wise, | and the gratitude of the
good. |
The powers of his mind were yet unimpaired. |
His chamber was filled by visitants, | eager to catch
the dictates of experience, I and officious to pay the
tribu/e of admiration. I Caled, the son of the viceroy
of EgypZ, | entered every day early, and retired late. \
He was beautiful and eloquent ; | Omar admired his
wif, | and loved fas docility. | " Tell me," said Caled,
" thou to whose voice nations have listened, I and whose
wisdom is known to the extremities of Asia, | tell me
how I may resemble Omar the prudent | The arts by
which thou hast gained power and preserved it, \ are
to thee no longer necessary or useful ; | impart to me
the secret of thy conduct, | and teach me the plan |
upon which thy wisdom has built thy fortune." |
" Young man," said Omar, | *' it is of little use to
form plans of life. | When I took my firs* survey
of the world, | in my twentieth year, | having consider-
ed the various conditions of mankind, | in the hour of
solitude I said thus to myself, | leaning against a cedar,
which spread its branches over my head, I " Seventy
years are allowed to man ; 1 1 have yet fifty remain
ing. |
" Ten years I will alloZ to the attainment of
knowledge, I and ten I will pass in foreign countries ; |
I shall be learned, | and therefore shall be honoured ; j
every city will shou* at my arrival, | and every stu-
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 301
dent will solicit my friendship. | Twenty years thus
passed, | will store my mind with images, I which 1
shall be busy, through the rest of my life, I in combin-
ing and comparing. | I shall revel in inexhaustible
accumulations of intellectual riches ; I I shall find new
pleasures for every moment ; | and shall never more be
weary of myself. |
" I will no*, however, | deviate too far from the
beaten tracA; of life ; I bu* will try wha* can be found
in female delicacy. | I will marry a wife beautiful as
the Houries, a | and wise as Zobeide : b | with her I will
live twenty years within the suburbs of Bagdad, | in
every pleasure tha* wealth can purchase, and fancy
can invent, i
" I will then retire to a rural dwelling, I pass my
days in obscurity and contemplation, | and lie silently
down on the bed of death. I Through my life it shall
be my settled resolution, | that I will never depend
upon the smile of princes ; | tha* I will never stand ex-
posed to the artifices of courts ; i I will never pan* for
public honours, | nor disturb my quie* with the affairs
of state." | Such was my scheme of life, which I
impressed indelibly upon my memory. I
" The firs* par* of my ensuing time | was to be
spen* in search of knowledge, I and I know no* how I
was diverted from my design. | I had no visible im-
pediments withou*. I nor any ungovernable passions
within. | I regarded knowledge as the highes* hon-
our, | and the mos* engaging pleasure ; I ye* day stole
upon day, | and month glided after month, i till I found
tha* seven years of the firs* ten had vanished, | and
lef* nothing behind them. |
" I now pos*poned my purpose of travelling ; ! for
why should I go abroad, | while so much remained to
be learned at home ? | I immured myself for four
* H6're, the girls of Mahomet's Paradise. b Z6-bl'de, wife of
the Calif, a fictitious character. (See Arabian Nights Entertain-
ments.)
31
56S PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
pars, j and studied the laws of the empire. ' The
fame of my skill reached the judges ; I I was fount/
able to speaA; upon doubtful questions ; | and was com-
manded to stand at the footstool of the calif. | I was
neard with attention;! I was consulted with confi-
dence ; | and the love of praise fastened on my heart. |
" I still wished to see distant countries ; listened
with rapture to the relations of travellers ; | and re-
solved some time to as/c my dismission, | tha I mighz
feas* my soul with novelty : | but my presence was
always necessary ; | and the stream of business hurrieiy
me along. | Sometimes I was afraid lest I should bi
charged with ingratitude : I but I still proposed tt
travel, | and therefore would not confine myself by
marriage. |
" In my fiftieth year, 1 1 began to suspect that the
time of travelling was pas* ; j and thought it best to
lay hold on the felicity yet in my power, I and indulge
myself in domestic pleasures. I Rut at fifty | no man
easily finds a woman | beautiful as the Houries, and
wise as Zobeide. | I inquired and rejected, | consult-
ed and deliberated, | till the sixty-second year made
me ashamed of wishing to marry. I I had now no-
thing left but retirement / | and for retirement I never
found a time, i till disease forced me from public em-
ployment |
" Such was my scheme, I and such has been its con-
sequence. | With an insatiable thirst for knowledge, I
I trifled away the years of improvement ; I with a rest-
less desire of seeing different countries, | I have always
resided in the same city ; I with the highest expectation
of connubial felicity, | I have lived unmarried; | and
with unalterable resolutions of contemplative retire-
ment, I I am going to die within the walls of Bag-
daZ." I
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 363
EXTRACT FROM A SUPPOSED SPEECH OF JOHN ADAMS IN
SUPPORT OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE.
(DANIEL WEBSTER.)
Smk or swim, | live or die, I survive or perish, 1 1 give
my hand, and my hear/, to this vote. | It is true, in-
deed, | thai in the beginning, | we aimed not at Inde-
pendence. | Bui there's a Divinity which shapes our
ends. | The injustice of England has driven us to
arms ; I and blinded to for own interest for our good, |
she has obstinately persisted, I till Independence is now
\vithin our grasp. | We have but to reach forth to ii,|
and it is ours, j Why then should we defer the Decla-
ration 1 | Is any man so weak | as now to hope for a
reconciliation with England? I Do we mean to sub-
mit to the measures of parliament, I Boston port-bill
and all ? I I know we do noi mean to submit, j We
never shall submit |
The war, then, must go on. | We must fight it
through. | And if the war must go on, | why put off
longer the Declaration of Independence ? 1 That mea-
sure will strengthen us. I It will give us character
abroad, i The nations will then treat with us, | which
they never can do i while we acknowledge ourselves
subjects, in arms against our sovereign. I Nay, I main-
tain thai England forself, I will sooner treai for peace
with us|on the footing of Independence, I than consent,
by repealing her acis, i to acknowledge thai for whole
conduci towards us | has been a course of injustice and
oppression. I
Sir, | the Declaration will inspire the people with in-
creased courage. | Instead of a long and bloody war
for restoration of privileges, I for redress of grievances, |
for chartered immunities, I held under a British king, |
set before them the glorious object of entire Indepen-
dence, I and it will breathe into them anew the breath
of life. I Read this Declaration at the head of the
364 PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. 1
army : J every sword will be drawn from its scabbard, |
and the solemn vow uttered, to maintain it, | or to
perish on the bed of honour. | Publish \t from the pul-
pit ; I religion will approve it, \ and the love of religious
liberty will cling round it, \ resolved to stand with it,\
or fall with it. \ Send it to the public halls ; | proclaim
it there ; I let them hear i,|who heard the first roar of
the enemy's cannon ; I let them see it, \ who saw their
brothers and their sons | fall on the field of Bunker
Hill, | and in the streets of Lexington and Concord, |
and the very walls will cry out in its support. |
Sir, before God,| I believe the hour is come. I My
judgment approves this measure, | and my whole heart
is in it. | All tha I have, I and all thaZ I am, | and all
that I hope, in this life, 1 1 am now ready here to stake
upon it ; \ and I leave off as I began, | tha live or die, |
survive or perish, | I am for the Declaration. I It is
my living sentiment, | and. by the blessing of God | it
shall be my dying sentiment ; | Independence now ; \
and INDEPENDENCE FOR EVER. |
KNOWLEDGE.
(DE WITT CLINTON.)
Pleasure is a shadow : 1 wealth is vanity : | and power
is a pageant : | but knowledge is ecstatic in enjoy-
ment | perennial in fame, I unlimited in space, I antf
infinite in duration. I In the performance of its sacred
offices, | it fears no danger I spares no expense |
omits no exertion. I It scales the mountain I looks
into the volcano | dives into the ocean | perforates
the earth I wings its flight into the skies I encir-
cles the glo&e | explores sea,and land I contem-
plates the distant 1 examines the minute | compre-
hends the great | ascends to the sublime. I No
place too remote for its grasp | no heavens too ex-
alted for its touch, j
THE END.
APPENDIX.
OPERATIONS FOR THE CURE OF STAMMERING.
SINCE the commencement of the present year, (1841,) a variety
of operations have been performed on the tongue, for the radical
cure of Stammering. This method of treating the disease is due
to the genius of Professor Dieffenbach,* of Berlin, author of the
operation for the cure of Strabismus.
From the American Journal of the Medical Sciences, July, 1841.
The greatest novelties in Surgery, which the Foreign Journals
for the last three months present us, are the operations for the cure
of Stammering.
Operation of Dieffenbach. " The idea lately suggested itself
to me," says the celebrated Berlin Professor, " that an incision car-
ried completely through the root of the tongue, might possibly be
useful," in relieving Stuttering which had resisted other means of
cure, "by producing an alteration in the condition of the nervous
influences, allaying spasm of the chordee vocales, &c." ; and, on
this slender possibility, based on a most vague notion (it is not
worthy of being termed a theory), he proceeded at once boldly to
divide completely the root of the tongue.
Three modes of operating are described by Dieffenbach : " 1st.
The transverse horizontal division of the root of the tongue. 2d.
The subcutaneous transverse division. 3d. The horizontal division,
with excision of a wedge-shaped portion."
The inventor of this operation thus characterizes it: "It can
never be performed by one who has not the temperament of an
operator; the haemorrhage must hold all others at a respectable
distance. The extent and importance of the operation, the possi-
ble danger to life, or loss of the tongue either through want of skill
in the assistants, who may tear -it off when so nearly separated, or
through mortification or ulceration of its connecting isthmus.
These are contingencies rationally to be feared, and which must be
carefully weighed beforehand." We commend this to the con-
sideration not only of the Surgeon, but most earnestly also to the
unfortunate subjects of the operation.
It is said to have been fatal in one of Dieffenbach's cases, that of
* Pronounced D
31 * CD
APPENDIX.
a young man who was dismissed seemingly cured. Owing to the
irritation caused by the cicatrix, this patient commenced picking
his tongue; haemorrhage came on, which proved -so alarming that
Dieffenbach was sent for, but so much blood had been lost that the
man sank.
Notwithstanding the imminently dangerous nature of this opera-
tion, several of the most distinguished Surgeons of Paris havo
hastened to execute it, and seem now to be contending who shall
perform it most frequently, and boast most loudly of their success.
From Dr. Post's Observations on the New Operation for the Cure
of Stammering. (New-York.)
The operation has been repeated a considerable number of timea
in Paris, by Amussat, Baudens, Velpeau, &c., &c., by whom it has
been essentially modified, and rendered easier to the Surgeon, and
less formidable to the patient. Amussat pursues the following
mode of operating:
1st. He separates with a bistoury, the franum lingua from its
attachment to the lower jaw, and divides the fibre-cellular mem-
brane beneath it. In a few cases, he has found this part of the
operation to be of itself sufficient to restore freedom of speech.
2d. He divides the genio-hyo-glossi muscles at their origin from
the lower jaw. The wound generally heals in about eight days.
Amussat has had some cases followed by troublesome hemor-
rhage, which he has generally arrested by the free use of ice ; some-
times by introducing compresses of lint, and making pressure on
them with two fingers of each hand introduced into the mouth,
while the thumbs are applied below the chin. In one case only it
was found necessary to make pressure by means of a hard body
applied over the lint. If these means should fail, he recommends
the use of styptics or of the actual cautery.
Baudens operates in the following manner. An assistant stands
behind the Stammerer, and holds his head slightly thrown back,
with his mouth widely opened, and the two little fingers of the
assistant in the angles of the mouth, drawing back the lips. The
Surgeon with his left hand holds a sharp hook, which he inserts
into the frsenum lingua?, near the insertion of the genio-hyo-glossi,
which he thus puts on the stretch. He then plunges the points of
a sharp pair of scissors on each side of the origin of the muscles,
to the depth of about an inch, and by closing the scissors divides
the muscles. If any fibres remain undivided, he cuts them with a
probe-pointed bistoury.
Velpeau divides the genio-hyo-glossi, sometimes with a narrow
bistoury, through a puncture of the mucous membrane, and some-
times with scissors, dividing the mucous membrane more exten-
sively
APPENDIX. Ill
From the American Journal of the Medical Sciences. October.
1841.
Operations for Stammering. A reviewer in the British and
Foreign Medical Review, July, 1841, thus speaks of them. "The
sanguinary operations which have been recently devised and exe-
cuted, with the view of curing Stammering, are one of the great-
est outrages upon modern Surgery. Although some of them had
their origin in legitimate motives, most, we fear, serve but to show
what ruthless expedients will be occasionally resorted to for the
purpose of acquiring professional fame, however short-lived, and to
what extent the ignorant and credulous will become a prey to craft
and subtlety. If our indignation was awakened at the barbarous
cruelties practised upon dumb animals for the sake of elucidating
the truths of Physiology, how much more ought it to be when we
consider the multitude of our fellow-beings who have suffered
themselves to be maimed and mutilated at the instigation of indi-
viduals more remarkable for their reckless use of the knife than
for the soundness of their Medical Science !"
From a very intelligent young German Physician, recently on a
visit to this country, we learn that Dieffenbach has abandoned his
operation, on the ground that the danger to the life of the patient
exceeds the chance of a cure. And we also learn that many of
the cases announced as cures, were merely temporarily relieved.
REMARKS.
Nothing can be more unphilosophical and absurd than theso
operations for the radical cure of Stammering. Will removing
"wedge-shaped" portions of the tongue, passing needles through
its substance, or dividing the genio-hyo-glossi muscles, inspire a
Stammerer with confidence, or give him a knowledge of Elocu-
tion 1 If Stammering depended on the permanent contraction of a
muscle, as in Strabismus, it would be rational to conclude that it
might be relieved by a surgical operation; but as the exciting
cause, in the majority of cases, exists in the mind, and not in the
tongue, an operation on the latter can be of no permanent advan-
tage.
QUESTIONS
TO BE ANSWERED BY THE PUPIL.
[NOTE. These Questions were omitted in the proper place
they should have followed those on page 166.]
Page 134. What letters are employed for noting the disposition
of the fingers 1 What letters are used for noting the manner of
presenting the palm ? What letters are used for noting the eleva-
tion of the arms'? What letters are used for noting the posture
of the arms in the transverse direction! What letters are used
for noting the force of motion of the hands and arms ? What let-
ters are used for noting the direction of motion 1
Page 135. What letters are used for noting the manner of
motion? W T hat letters are used for noting the posture of the head
and direction of the eyes? What letters and numerals are used
for noting the positions of the feet? What letters are used for
noting the degree of extension of the feet ? What letters are used
for noting the steps ?
Page 136. What letters are used to note parts on which the hand
may be placed ? What letters are used to note the manner of com-
bining the fingers of both hands "? What letters are used for noting
the combinations of both arms ? What does a capital B, preceding
and joined to a set of small letters, signify ? Name some of the
letters used in noting significant gestures.
Page 137. Into how many classes are the notation letters divi-
ded ? What is meant by a set of letters? To what does each
letter in a set, respectively relate? Illustrate this by an example.
Do the letters and sets of letters relate to both arms indifferently?
How are they distinguished ? When there is a single set of let-
ters, how is it known whether it belongs to the right hand and arm,
or to the left ?
Page 138. How is a set of letters, designed for both arms, dis-
tinguished ? How is a change of gesture noted ? How is alter-
nate gesture expressed ? By what kind of letters are the postures
of the head and the direction of the eyes indicated, and where are
they placed ? Where are the letters placed, which mark the posi-
tions of the feet ?
Page 156. In notating an oration, is it necessary to mark every
gesture ?
Page 157. What is necessary to be attended to in the recitation
of descriptions of any kind ? Why should not the same gesture
be often repeated? What general rule should be observed in ora-
torical action ? What is the best method for acquiring a finished
rhetorical delivery ?
(4)
GESTURE.
CHAPTER XIII.*
COMPLEX SIGNIFICANT GESTURES.
Complex Significant Gestures are employed chiefly in
dramatic representation. They are combinations of
simple significant gestures, variously associated accord-
ing to the mingled passions which they represent. The
boldest and most magnificent of them are termed atti-
tudes. The following are examples of complex signifi-
cant gestures :
Reproach puts on a stern aspect : the brow is con-
tracted, the lip is turned up with scorn, and the whole
body is expressive of
aversion. Fig. 166
represents Queen Ka-
tharine, in the trial
scene, in the play of
Henry VIII. reproach-
ing Wolsey for the in-
juries which had been
neaped upon her.
Apprehension is the
prospect of future evil
accompanied with un-
easiness of mind. Fig.
167 is a good example.
It represents Hamlet
in the act of exclaiming, "Ay, there's the rub." [See
Hamlet's Soliloquy, p. 249.]
Terror excites the person who suffers under it, to
avoid the dreaded object, or to escape from it. If it be
some dangerous reptile on the ground, and very neai,
the expression is represented by starting back and look -
* This Chapter should have followed p. 130.
A2
107
ELOCUTION.
ing downwards. If the danger threaten from a dis-
tance, the terror arising is expressed by looking for-
wards, and not starting back, but merely in the retired
position. But if the dread of impending death from
the hand of an enemy awaken this passion, the coward
flies. Of this there is a fine example in the battles of
Alexander, by
LeBrun. Fig.
168represents
terror as de-
scribed byEn-
gel. It is that
of a man a-
larmed by
lightning and
thunder. He
shuts his eyes,
covers them
with one hand
168 169 and extends
the other behind him, as if to ward off the dreaded stroke.
Aversion, as already observed, is expressed by two
gestures. (See p. 122.)
Horror, which is aversion or astonishment mingled
with terror, is seldom capable of retreating, but remains
in one attitude, with the eyes riveted on the object, the
arms, with the hands vertical, held forward to guard
the person, and the whole frame trembling. (Fig. 169.)
Listening in order to obtain the surest and most va-
rious information, first casts the eye quickly in the ap-
parent direction of the sounds ; if nothing is seen, the
ear is turned towards the point of expectation, the eye
is bent on vacancy, and the arm is extended, with the
hand vertical ; but all this passes in a moment. If the
sounds proceed from different points at the same time,
both hands are held up, and the face and eyes alternately
change from one side to the other with a rapidity go-
verned by the nature of the sound ; if it be alarming, with
ELOCUTION.
trepidation ; if pleasing, with gentle motion.
The figure is listening fear.
7
(Fig. 99.)
Admiration, if of surrounding natural objects, of a
pleasing kind, holds both hands vertical, and across,
and then moves them outwards to the position extended
as in the figure. (Fig. 100.) In admiration arising
from some extraordinary or unexpected circumstances,
the hands are thrown up supine elevated, together with
the face and the eyes.
Veneration crosses both hands on the breast, casts
down the eyes slow-
ly, and bows the
head. (Fig. 101.)
Deprecation ad-
vances in the ex-
tended position of
the feet, approach-
ing to kneeling,
clasps the hands
forcibly together
throws back the
head, sinking it be-
101 102 tween the shoul
ders, and looks earnestly up to the person implored,
(Fig. 102.)
8
GESTURE.
In appealing to heaven, the right hand is laid on the
breast, then the left is projected su-
pine upwards; the eyes are first di-
rected forwards, and then upwards.
(Fig. 103.)
In the appeal to conscience, the
right hand is laid on the breast, the
left drops unmoved, the eyes are fixed
upon the person addressed (Fig. 80, p.
99) ; sometimes both hands press the
breast.
Shame in the extreme sinks on the
knee, and covers the eyes with both
hands. (Fig. 104.) This is a femi-
nine expression of it.
Mild resignation falls on the knee,
crosses the arms on the breast, and looks forwards and
upwards towards heaven. (Fig. 105.)
]05
Resignation mixed with desperation, stands erect and
unmoved, the head thrown back, the eyes turned up-
ward, and fixed, the arms crossed. A fine instance is
seen in Fig. 106, from an attitude of Mrs. Siddons.
Grief arising from sudden and afflicting intelligence,
covers the eyes with one hand, advances forwards, and
throws back tne other hand. (Fig. 107, and Fig. 8 1 , p. 99.)
ELOCUTION
9
Attention demanding silence, holds the finger on the
lips, and leans forwards, sometimes repressing with the
left hand. (Fig. 82, p. 99.)
Distress, when extreme, lays the palm of the hand
upon the forehead, throws back the head and body,
and retires with a long and sudden step. (Fig. 83. p. 99.
Deliberation on ordinary subjects, holds the chin
and sets the arm a-kimbo. (Fig. 84, p. 99.)
Self-sufficiency folds the arms, and sets himself on
his centre. (Fig. 48, p. 92.) This was a favourite
posture of Bonaparte.
Pride throws back the body, and holds the head high.
These few complex significant gestures are some of
the most obvious, and principally such as occurred in
the illustration of other parts of this system; they
serve, however, in some degree, to explain the nature
of these gestures. But among the writers who have
treated particularly of significant gestures, none have
written with greater ingenuity than Engel : we will
borrow, therefore, an example or two from him.
Surprise causes the body and lower limbs to retire
and affection stimulates the person to advance. (Fig.
108.) The figure represents Frederick de Reuss, in a
German play, who unexpectedly sees his dear friend.
32
10
GESTURE.
He withdraws, in surprise, his body and lower limbs,
and, in the ardour of friendship, immediately stretches
forwards his head and his arms.
When the thoughts flow without
difficulty or opposition, the move-
ment of the limbs is free and direct.
But when difficulties occur, or ob-
stacles are discovered, a man either
arrests his action entirely, or changes
it to something altogether different.
The direction of his eyes, and the,
action of his head, are also, under
similar circumstances, quite altered.
The eyes, instead of moving freely
from object to object, become fixed,
and the head is thrown back, if be-
fore hanging down on the breast. As an example of
these effects, M. Engel refers to a scene in a play of
Lessing, in which an old gentleman is very much
puzzled how to ma-
nage, in a situa-
tion of great diffi-
culty and delicacy.
In the commence-
ment of his delibe-
rations he is repre-
sented as in Fig. 109,
and in the next pe-
riod of them, as in
Fig. 110.
These examples
are introduced by
M. Engel to illus- 109 no
trate his analogous gestures, but they may also be
very well applied to illustrate the complex, significant
gestures, which are the present subject of investigation.
The description which he gives of melancholy, con-
trasted with anxiety, is, throughout, correct, and full
of nice discrimination.
ELOCUTION.
11
Melancholy is a feeble and passive affection ; it is
attended by a total relaxation of the muscles, with a
mute and tranquil resignation, un-
accompanied by opposition either
to the cause or the sensibility of
the evil . The character, externally,
is languor, without motion, the
head hanging at the " side next the
heart," the eyes turned upon its
object, or, if that is absent, fixed
upon the ground, the hands hang-
ing down by their own weight,
without effort, and joined loosely
together. (Fig. 111.)
Anxiety is of a different charac-
ter; it is restless and active, and
manifest by the extension of the muscles ; the eye is
filled with fire, the breathing is quick, the motion is
hurried, the head is thrown back, the whole body is
extended. The sufferer is like a sick
man, who tosses incessantly, and finds
himself uneasy in every situation. (Fig.
112.)
One of the causes of M . Engel's ges-
tures of analogy is, as he observes, the
" disposition of the mind to refer intellec
tual ideas to external objects. When
king Lear recollects the barbarous treat-
ment of his daughters, who, in the midst
of a stormy night, had exposed his hoary
head to the inclemency of the weather ;
and when he immmediately exclaims
O that way madness lies ; let me shun that ;
No more of that,
there is not, in reality, any external object from which
this unhappy prince should avert his eyes with horror
and yet he turns his head away to the side opposite
that to which it was directed before, endeavouring, as
12 GESTURE
it were, with his hand reversed, to banish that cruel
and afflicting recollection." (Fig.
113.)
The significant gestures, how-
ever numerous and correct, which
a great actor makes in the repre-
sentation of an entire dramatic,
character, bear no proportion to 1
the number of those gestures
which do not belong to this class,
and which are no less necessary,
though they are not so splendid
and imposing. The painter is
struck by the boldest and finest
of the significant gestures, which are called attitudes ;
and he records them : they are the proper objects of
his art ; they are striking, and less evanescent than the
other gestures which pass unnoticed by him, although
they make up by far the greater and more important
part of the gestures requisite for illustrating the senti-
ments. These less prominent gestures give to the de-
clamation its precision and force. A slight movement
of the head, a look of the eye, a turn of the hand, a ju-
dicious pause, or interruption of gesture, or a change
of position in the feet, often illuminates the meaning
of a passage, and sends it, full of life and warmth, into
the understanding. And the perfection of gesture, in
a tragedian, will be found to consist more in the skilful
management of the less showy action, than in the exhi-
bition of the finest attitudes. Attitudes are danger
ous to hazard : the whole powers of the man mu?t be
wrought up to their highest energy, or they become
forced and frigid. Excellent players have been seen,
who have never ventured an attitude ; but none, deserv-
ing the name of excellence, have ever appeared, whose
declamation has been deficient in precision or propriety
Where all the solid foundation of just and appropriate
action has been laid, attitude, when regulated with
GESTURE. 13
taste and discretion, may be added to ornament the su-
perstructure ; but, when it is introduced unseasonably,
or is overcharged, it is an evidence of deficiency of un-
derstanding, as well as of depravity of taste.
ATTITUDES OF MRS. SIDDONS.
185 186
U '~ i z >p xdx thf
Fig. 185. This' arm shall vindicate a father's cause. G. Dau'r., A.I, S. last.
aR2
S iZip-pdx
Fig. 186. Wert thou the son of Jupiter. Imogen, Act 2, S. 3.
a R 2
187
U B cl. eb
Fig. 187. A widow cries, Be husband to me, heaven. K. John, A. 3, S. 2
Rl
D Bel ef U heq bn~hdx
Fig. 188. Pity and forgiveness. Venice Preserved, Act 5, S. I
32* >*
TELI/S ADDRESS TO THE MOUNTAINS.
vef-phx shf-sdx
Ye crags and peaks, I I'm with you once again ;
R2
I hold to you the hands
you first beheld, |
Bvee
to show they still
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Bveq
ar r ree. | Methinks I hear a
Rl
spii .t in your echoes, answer
me, | and bid your tenant
Bshq
welcome to his home
HI
again ! | O sacred forms, I
R i
how proud vou look !
192
stfsdx ^ sky
How high you lift your
heads into the sky ! I
Mi
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Bshx
How huge you are ! |
Bveq
How mighty ! I
HI '
B shf Z-pM
and how free ! | Ye are the things that tower;
*2 -RI
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
shfsdx _
that shine ; | whose smile makes glad ;
Rl
200
B veq B vec
frown is terrible ; 1 whose forms, robed,
rLl
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
201
Bveq
or unrobed, do all the
impress wear
vef-phz t
of awe divine, j
203 .
fl-phx shfshx
Ye guards of liberty, | Pm with you once again ! !
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
205
Z-phz
I call to you with all my
207 208
B a*q B vec
I hold my hands to you, | to show they still are |
L 2
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
free j
210
Bsef
I rush to you, I
aR-
Bz
as though I could
212
Bshf R
embrace you,
Ml
VOCAL GYMNASIUM.
RULES, CONDITIONS, RECOM-
MENDATIONS, &c.
RULES, ADOPTED IN 1840.
From experience in teaching without Jixed rules for the regula*
tion of the conduct of the different classes, the Proprietor of the
Institution is convinced of their importance. He has, therefore,
drawn up the following, to which he requires each member to sub'
scribe on entering the school.
1. Each member of the Institution must be punctual in atten-
dance at all the exercises : he must not leave till their close.
2. Each member must attend every exhibition at the Vocal Gym-
nasium, and at every other place.
3. Each member, while exercising 1 , must stand or sit erect.
Neither postures, motions, nor acts, unfavourable to vocal delivery, are allow-
ed: such as rocking, throwing one's self back in the chair, or resting the anna
upon the back of it, or even the feet upon the rounds.
4. When, in concert exercises, a section is given out, it must be
immediately repeated by every member of the class, in the proper
pitch and time, and with the requisite degree of force.
5. When a piece is given out with gesticulation, the members
of the class must rise simultaneously, immediately after the first
section is pronounced, and repeat the words and gesture.
6. Each student must perform all the exercises with unwearied in-
dustry : in a manner which shall indicate that he is resolved on a cure.
7. As walking about the room, changing seats, &c., greatly in
terrupt the process of instruction, the members of the class are re-
quired to keep in their places during the exercises.
This rule, of course, does not apply to those exercises which require the class to
keep time by marching.
8. No one is allowed to have any thing in his hands, except his
book, during the exercises.
9. All colloquial intercourse, in the time of exercising, is strictly
forbidden.
10. No whistling, loud talking, or other unnecessary noise, in
entering, or in leaving the room, is allowed.
11. As any remarks calculated to discourage the Stammerer
from persevering in the exercises, greatly retard, if not entirely
prevent a cure, every member of the Institution is required to re-
frain from making them.
Pi esuming that the deportment of each Student, will, on every
occasion, be that of a gentleman ; the Proprietor of the Institu-
tion confidently trusts that the above rules will not be violated.
33 f5)
DR. COMSTOCK'S
VOCAL GYMNASIUM
AND
LYCEUM FOR ELOCUTION,
DESIGNED FOR THE PROMOTION OP HEALTH, THE CURE OP STAM-
MERING, AND IMPROVEMENT IN READING AND SPEAKING.
This Institution is open from the first of October till the last of March ;
April, May, June, July, August, and September being vacation months.
Students in Elocution are admitted at any time during the term ; Stam.
merers, at any time between the first of October and the first of Feb.
ruarv.
In this Institution, Elocution is treated as a science, as well as an art.
The various movements of the voice, both in speech and song, are illus
trated by original diagrams and by oral instruction. The exercises give
the pupil complete command of the muscles of articulation, extend the
compass of the voice, and render it smooth, powerful, and melodious.
They not only call forth all the energies of the vocal organs, correct
stammering, lisping, and other impediments of speech ; but they invigo-
rate the lungs, and, consequently, fortify them against the invasion of
disease. The vocal exercises are accompanied by gesticulation. Hence
to a certain extent, general gymnastics are associated with those of the
voice ; and awkwardness of manner and posture, is removed by the sub-
stitution of rhetorical grace. In other words, all the voluntary muscles
of the trunk and limbs are so trained as to move in the order required
by the will, synchronously and harmoniously with those of the voice.
TICKETS PER COURSE.
Cure of Stammering 10 weeks instruction. .... .$50
Private instruction in Elocution. . . 36 lessons 30
Instruction in the morning class. . 10 weeks, each pupil 20
Instruction in the afternoon class . . 10 weeks, each pupil 20
Instruction in the evening class. . . 10 weeks, each pupil 10
Instruction in seminaries 25 weeks, 2 hours per week. 50
[CFThe ticket, in each case, to be paid for in advance. Satisfactory
references will be given in the principal cities throughout the Union.
ANDREW COM STOCK, M. D,
No. 100 Mulberry Street, Philadelphia,
(6)
RECOMMENDATIONS.
To the Editor of the Troy Daily Whig :
SIR You are aware that a gentleman from Philadelphia, Dr. Comstock,
is now giving lessons in Elocution ; but perhaps you arc not aware of the
merits of his system or the extent of its usefulness; it is in many respects
entirely original, in others founded on the investigations of the most dis-
tinguished vocalists. I have attended a few lessons, and am highly grati-
fied that I have embraced the opportunity. Some of the gentlemen who
have professed to teach Elocution in our city have given some satisfaction,
but none have been able to handle the subject as he takes it up ; his treat-
ment of it is simple, natural, philosophical ; he is prepared to meet any
case of impediment in speaking, reading, or singing. If a pupil can speak
or read at all, Dr. Comstock will teach him to do it well. Musicians also
would do well to look into his system : they will find in it exercises to give
force and melody to the voice that have never occurred to them. And
besides the improvement in singing, and that most valuabl . of all accom-
plishments,^oo? reading, there is another to be derived from these exer-
cises, which is far more important than either it promotes health. The
plan is so constructed as to call forth all the energies of the vocal organs
the lungs particularly are fortified and invigorated by practice according
to his system ; and in this view of the subject I would suggest to our phy-
sicians, who in general evince great assiduity and skill in preventing as
well as removing disease, that they do so much for the public weal, as to
call on Dr. Comstock that they may know the advantages of the vocal
exercises.
It is to be regretted that Dr. Comstock will remain but a short time
with us; but short as it is, those who wish to profit by his instructions will
have time to do so. Yours, P.
August 15, 1834.
From the Philadelphia Commercial Intelligencer, August 20, 1834.
We have observed with pleasure in the Troy Whig of the 15th instant,
a favourable notice of that excellent Elocutionist of our city, Dr. Comstock,
He is giving lessons in Elocution at Troy with much success.
F*om the Troy Daily Whig of August 30, 1834.
DR. COMSTOCK'S LECTURES.
MR. EDITOR Yesterday, I had the pleasure to hear an interesting Lec-
ture on Elocution, by Andrew Comstock, M. D. from the city of Philadel.
phm. He understands the elementary sounds of the English Language
well, and appears to have entire command over the vocal organs. He ex-
(7)
8 RECOMM EN DATIONS.
plains the movements of the voice by diagrams, and measures the rnria,
iious of pitch by the musical scale. He has with him two books on prac-
tical elocution, of which he is the author the Rhythmical Reader, wiiinh
contains pieces adapted to the taste of ladies, and Practical Elocution,
which is designed for gentlemen. He teaches his pupils iron) these books
how to read in a graceful manner. If an individual has a feeble voice, it
can be strengthened ; if harsh, softened, by pursuing the course he recom-
mends. He clearly points out the difference between boisterous and elo-
quent speaking-; and he shows how to produce a great effect upon a public
assembly, with very little effort.
The simplicity and power of the organs of speech furnish, I think, su
ficient reason for the exclamation:
" How wonderful is man .
How passing wonder He
Who made him such."
Whoever wishes to attain the faculty of speaking" with correctness and
elegance, in public places, and in the social circle, would do well to call and
examine the system for themselves.
A Friend to the Science of speaking well.
From the Troy Daily Budget of September 8, 1834.
DR. COMSTOCK'S LECTURES.
MR. EDITOR There is no branch of education more deserving of public
attention than oratory. Volumes have been written upon it. It has been
cultivated, as a science, in all civilized countries; and its power has been
universally felt and acknowledged. Its use and importance have occupied
the attention of many distinguished men of our ewn and other countries.
Were it otherwise, orators could not command, as they now do, " the ap.
plause of listening senates." To speak well is one of the highest attain-
ments to which our hopes can aspire.
Permit me, Sir, to invite those who wish to attain this invaluable science,
to attend Dr. Comstock's Lectures on Elocution, at the Court House. His
manner of reading is bold, original, and striking. I have attended his
Lectures for several days ; and, in common with his other pupils, highly
appreciate them. He is, in the opinion of all who have heard him lecture,
a faithful, capable, and excellent elocutionist.
A Friend to Oratory
Dr. Comstock has been instructing my pupils two hours in a day for
two weeks, in Elocution; and I am happy in having an opportunity to
bear testimony to their unexampled improvement in reading and speaking
G. W. FRANCIS.
Troy. September 5, 1835.
RECOMMENDATIONS. 9
From tJie Philanthropist, Philadelphia, January 16, 1836.
ELOCUTION.
We would recommend to those individuals who wish to become chaste
and accomplished speakers, to take a course of instruction of Dr. Andrew
Comstock, whose merits as an elocutionist we have had the opportunity to
prove.
His system, which has the best claims to respect, will commend itself
to persons of taste, as it is entirely free from theatrical affectation, or arti-
ficial display, and founded on truth and nature. Many gentlemen in the
learned professions, and individuals in other spheres of life, who have
received the benefits of his instruction, and who are therefore the well-
qualified judges of his skill in this science, have given him unsolicited
and unqualified praise. We wish him continued success.
From the United States Gazette, May 7, 1836.
DR. COMSTOCK'S LECTURES ON ELOCUTION.
Mr. EDITOR : Having occasion on my return from Washington to New-
York, to stop a few days at Philadelphia, I most cheerfully availed myself
of the opportunity of witnessing the exercises in Elocution in which Dr.
Comstock's pupils are engaged, and it affords me pleasure to say, that I
have been very highly gratified.
The skill with which the Doctor imparts to his pupils a knowledge of
the science and art of Elocution, and the proficiency which they have
already made, are conclusive evidences that Elocution " can be taught."
It was taught during the flourishing ages of Greece and Rome. Demos-
thenes and Cicero studied it in those republics, and studied it thoroughly
anterior to their successful appearance before their fellow-citizens as
orators.
I wish, Mr. Editor, that some of our members of Congress could, or
rather would, put themselves under the tuition of Dr. Comstock, or some
other accomplished Elocutionist, long enough, at least, to learn the princi-
ples upon which good reading and speaking are founded. If our national
legislators had a knowledge of Elocution, as taught by Dr. Comstock, they
certainly would be heard with much more attention and interest ; and, I
may add, they would be more useful to the country.
Ministers of the Gospel, too, by becoming first-rate readers and speakers,
can promulgate with ease and facility, the truths of Christianity. Reli
gion has suffered much in consequence of the bungling manner in which
preachers and professors have presented it to the world. It is gratifying
to know that several clergymen are now taking lessons in Elocution, of
Dr Comstock, and that they are making great improvement.
33*
10 RECOMMENDATIONS.
It would be well for gentlemen of the legal profession, to study the laws
of Elocution, as well as those of the land. Ladies, too, ought to feel in-
terested in improving their Elocution, some of the Philadelphia ladies
do ; and I have had the satisfaction of hearing one of the Doctor's classes
exercise, the members of which are becoming excellent readers.
There are two or three literary institutions in which Dr. Cornstock's
Valuable services have been retained. It is to be regretted that any semi-
nary of learning, especially any college, should exist without a professor-
ship of Elocution. It is not only an important branch of education, bu
s much so as any to which the attention of youth can be directed.
S. N. S.
U. S. Hotel, May 2, 1836.
From the Episcopal Recorder, Rev. George A. Smith, Editor.
Philadelphia, Saturday Morning, June 18, 1836.
ELOCUTION.
The following communication is from the United States Gazette. The
subject is one of importance, and we are enabled from our own observa-
tion to confirm the statements of the writer. Several of our clergy have
attended Dr. Comstock's lectures, and consider the system which he has
adopted well calculated to assist in ease and propriety of reading and
speaking.
Mr. EDITOR : Impressed with the value of education, and inclined to
contribute aught in my power to aid those who are in the pursuit of its
benefits, allow me, through your columns, to make a public expression of
my sentiments, regarding the character of Dr. Andrew Cornstock, as a
teacher of Elocution, and its kindred branches. Having been a common
inmate in the Doctor's office for many weeks, examined his publications
and diagrams, and witnessed his method of instruction, with the cheering
success by which it has been characterised, I write understandingly upon
this occasion.
From the Doctor's knowledge of our organs of speech, of their diseases
and remedies, and the best mode of imparting to them vigour and activity
from his knowledge of the laws of sound, ample experience in his present
vocation, joined with his acknowledged integrity, I am^ persuaded he is
eminently qualified to sustain his highest pretensions as~a scientific and
practical Elocutionist.
Dr. Comstock's mode of instruction is founded in the philosophy of his
subject, is abundantly successful in its application stands the scrutiny of
talents challenges the confidence of society.
Graduates from our halls of science, gentlemen of the learned profes
sions ladies of cultivated minds, have been pleased to testify the essen
tial advantage they have derived from his lectures.
I have myself been much delighted in seeing the rapid, material, and
ofltimes complete improvement which unfortunate stammerers have made,
under his tuition, in their enunciation while teacher and pupils cordially
indulged in theii mutual congratulations. A CLERGYMAN.
RECOMMEN DATIONS. 1 1
From the U. S. Gazette.
STAMMERING CURED BY DR. COMSTOCK
Mr. EDITOR : Having experienced, to a very painful extent, the many
privations necessarily and peculiarly connected with inveterate stammer-
ing, to which I have been subject from early liie, I am anxious thus to
acknowledge the restoration that has been effected in my case, under the
instruction of Dr. Comstock. Knowing, as I well do, how valuable such
a communication would have once been to me, I arn induced to pen this
for the benefit of others.
My articulation, until very lately, was so embarrassing and difficult, 83
to have, in a very great degree, shut out from me the pleasure of conver-
sation. I could scarcely articulate a single sentence without considerable
ctfort on my part, and apparent anxiety and pain to others. I therefore
seldom spoke from choice, and even avoided, when possible, the necessity
of doing so. I am, however, no longer subjected to these severe depriva-
tions, but so relieved from them, that I can now converse with friends or
strangers, and feel confident of my power to do so.
Many years ago, and at some expense and trouble, I sought out Mr
Chapman, a teacher then of considerable notoriety, and placed myself im-
mediately under his care. Of him I do not complain, but notice the fact
as part of my experience. Those who are aware of his injunctions know
how impossible it is here to compare the peculiarities of his plan with the
principles of my last tutor's, whose system, however, I should unhesi-
tatingly prefer. A. EVANS.
Philadelphia, June 24, 1836.
A gentleman named Abner Evans called on me a few weeks ago, and
desired me to examine him, in his conversation and in his reading
with reference to stammering in his speech. He informed me that he
was 34 years of age that he had been an inveterate stammerer from his
infancy ; but that he had, about two weeks before that time, placed him-
self under the care of Dr. Andrew Comstock, and that he now believed
himself cured of the infirmity under which he had so long laboured. I
examined the gentleman with considerable care, and was unable to dis-
cover anything like stammering, or embarrassment or impediment in his
speech, either in conversation or reading.
JOHN H. WILLITS
July 15th, 1836.
I certify, that I have known Mr. A. Evans for a number of years, that
he was an irveterate stammerer, and that he was completely relieved in
two weeks, under the instruction of Dr. Comstock. I will further add,
that I am intimately acquainted with Dr. C., that he has devoted several
years to the study of the subject which he professes to teach, and that I
believe he is fully prepared to meet any case of impediment in reading or
Bpeaking JOS. P. MUSGRAVE, M. D.
No. 142, Pine Street, Phila., July 16, 1836.
12 RECOMMENDATIONS.
From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier, October 29, 1836.
CURE FOR STAMMERING.
A young gentleman named Samuel E. Duth'eld, of M'Connelsburg, in
this state, called upon us the other day, and wished us to state that he has
always been subject to a natural impediment of speech, which of late years
had been increasing upon him. He visited this city, placed himself tinder
the care of Dr. Comstock, and has been entirely cured. He can speak and
read with as much fluency as though he had never been subject to any
impediment of speech.
From the United States Gazette, Philadelphia, Oct. 31, 1936.
STAMMERING.
We had on Saturday the pleasure of listening to the reading, recitation
and discourse of a pupil of Dr. Comstock, who has been with him less
than three weeks, and was from his infancy a stammerer, the evil increasing
with the growth of the youth, and with his intercourse with society. He
is now able to speak and read without the least sign of hesitancy. Dr.
Comstock's system is simple, and, as it appears, efficacious, and he affects
no mystery : we trust that those who are subject to the painful inconveni-
ence of stammering, will apply to him; and we really believe that if they
will give attention to his rules, they may be entirely cured.
From the Philadelphia Gazette, Nov. 29, 1836.
The following tribute to the skill of a Gentleman whose success in a
very difficult profession has been astonishing, is not less grateful to the ob-
ject of it himself, than it is useful to the public at large. We perform a
general benefit by giving it currency through the press.
Letter to Dr. Comstock, of Philadelphia.
M'CoNNELSBURG, Nov. 13, 1836.
DEAR SIR ; My son has returned from the city, after an absence of about
four weeks,and I cannot refrain from acknowledging my unfeigned satisfac-
tion in the improvement of his speech. Before he left home it gave me
pain to hear him attempt to speak ; now I will defy any person to know
he had ever been a stammerer. I do cordially recommend all who have
an impediment in their speech, if possible to avail themselves of your sys
tern for the cure of stammering. I am, with respect, yours, &c.
WILLIAM DUFFIELD.
From the United States Gazette.
STAMMERING.
We publish a communication from the Rev. O. C. Comstock, Chaplain
to Congress, upon the merits of his relative, Dr. A. COMSTOCK, of this
city, as a professor of Elocution. From some knowledge of the scientific
gentleman alluded to, and the great success which has attended his exer-
tions in the cure of stammering, we cordially endorse the testimony. The
Rev. Dr. Comstock, of Washington, being himself an eloquent divine,
much credit may be attached to his opinions on a topic so entirely within
his sphere.
Letter to the Editor, from the Rev. O. C. Comstock, Chaplain to Congress.
WASHINGTON, January 26, 1837.
SIR In this age of arrogant pretension and stupendous humbuggery
RECOMMENDATIONS. 1 3
the public should receive with becoming caution, every announcement of
extraordinary achievements in any of the departments of useful knowledge.
The wonderful exploits of ignorant and unprincipled pretenders, are fre-
quently lauded to the skies, in the newspaper paragraphs of anonymous
writers. Disdaining to impose on honest credulity, by making an asser-
tion where I cannot establish a fact indisposed to avoid any responsibility,
that may be attached to my character, I will not be induced to do so upon
this occasion, by withholding my humble name from this article, in con-
sequence of the delicate collateral relation subsisting between myself and
the talented and honourable gentleman to whom it alludes I mean Dr. A.
Comstock, of Philadelphia. The Dr. before and since his graduation at the
uni versity of Pennsylvania, has been muchemployed in theeducation of youth.
The books and diagrams which he has published, illustrating the true
principles of elocution, and the methods by which it can be most successfully
taught the high state of improvement witnessed and admired, in the voice,
reading and speaking of his pupils, render him deservedly celebrated as
an elocutionist, wherever his reputation is known.
But I should not have obtruded these remarks upon the consideration of
your readers, would they not conduce to a better understanding of the follow-
ing intelligence, which I hope may subserve the interests of suffering
humanity.
My friend has removed, in numbers of unfortunate stammerers, that most
embarrassing and painful difficulty of enunciation with which they have
been affected. Some of these sufferers had been long schooled by others,
with reference to the removal of this calamity, with little or no success.
That a cure, in this case, is an object most ardently to be desired, is deeply
felt by every victim of this misfortune by every fond parent, who, but for
stammering, might regard his darling boy a fair candidate for the highest
academic honours the applause of listening Senates. There is now before
my mental vision a lovely boy of great promise, on whom his parents design
to bestow a finished education ; but who, alas ! was painfully afflicted with
stammering. He is now, however, under the tuition of Dr. Comstock. greatly
improving in his elocution ; inspiring the confident expectation of perfect
victory over the source of so much unhappiness. The sparkling animation
of his eye his cheering smiles express the rapture of his grateful heart.
The thankfulness and joyful anticipation of his parents cannot be described,
or even imagined, but by those in similar circumstances.
Having spent some months with my relative, I am well acquainted with
his system, and manner of instruction, and its delightful results.
Unlike all sorts of imposture, there is no affectation of superlative wisdom
held as a profound secret, in the theory and practice of this valuable art
as triumphantly explored and applied by the Doctor. His course of opera-
tion is founded in an extensive knowledge of his subject the fruit of his
ample study and practice. His discipline developes, invigorates, and ren-
sers flexible the organs of speech. He teaches his pupils how these organs
are to be properly exercised. They are made obedient to the will capable
of much and various accomplishments. In short, he cures stammerers, by
teaching them scientific and practical elocution.
How much reason have we to rejoice in the march of mind the effort?
of philanthropy the benevolence of God. Yours, with respect,
O. C. COMSTOCK
!4 RECOMMENDATIONS.
Certificates from Professor Homer and Professor Hare, of the Univer-
sity of Pennsylvania.
Having been present on the 10th inst. at the exercises of the pupils in Dr
Andrew Comstock's Gymnasium, for the improvement of the voice and of
the articulation in stammerers and others, the impression made upon me was
highly favourable to his method of instruction.
The system is founded upon an exact anatomical and physiological inform,
ation, in regard to the organs concerned in the production and modification
of sound. Its several parts appear to have been evolved and matured upon a
degree of thought and an extent of experiment reflecting much credit upon
his sagacity and industry, and it inspires a very strong confidence of its ap-
plicability to the faults generally of speech or phonation. One of his pupils,
who only a week before the occasion alluded to, had been a most unpleasant
stammerer, was then heard to recite publicly with great ease and fluency,
with a full intonation. W. E. HORNER, M. D.
Professor of Anatomy in the University of Pennsylvania.
Philadelphia, Aug. 11, 1837.
PHILADELPHIA, Aug. 14th, 1837.
Having been present on the occasion alluded to in the preceding letter of
the Professor of Anatomy, I have no hesitation in alleging that my impres-
sions are consistent with those which my colleague has therein expressed.
ROBERT HARE, M. D.
Professor of Chemistry in the University of Pennsylvania.
From the Select Medical Library and Eclectic Journal of Medicine,
edited by John Bell, M. D., Lecturer on the Institutes of Medicine
and Medical Jurisprudence, Member of the College of Physicians
of Philadelphia, and of the American Philosophical Society, etc,
September, 1837.
COMSTOCK'S VOCAL GYMNASIUM AND LYCEUM FOR
ELOCUTION.
IT is not necessary that a man should be a stammerer, in order to be aware,
from personal experience, of his imperfection in vocal utterance and speech,
We are taught to read and to express ourselves grammatically in conversa-
tion ; but how few learn suitable intonation, and a full and a distinct utter-
ance, by which speech obtains much of its charm and acquires often all its
influence. Graceful gestures in walking and dancing, and in presenting
one's self in company, are thought by many to be of paramount importance;
and hence, as a matter of course, the majority of young persons of both sexes
are placed under the direction of a teacher of dancing. And yet, after all,
what are the graces of manner compared to the melody of voice; and how
imperfect the address of the otherwise accomplished gentleman or lady, with-
out full and mellifluous speech ! Nature here, as in all that concerns either
bodily or mental endowment, does, it is true, establish great differences
amongst individuals. One person lias, naturally, a musical voice, as it is
called ; another a harsh or somewhat dissonant one. But still, education poi
RECOMMENDATIONS. 15
Besses, we also know, a good deal of plastic power ; and in no case is the in.
duencu of physical education more evident than in the strength which exer.
cise gives to the muscles in general, and in the agility and grace which prac-
tice imparts to the movements of the limbs; as in the evolutions of the dance,
and on the tight rope, &c. On the same principle precisely, without any
charm, magic or mystification, can the muscles which, by their successive or
alternate and combined action, give rise to voice and speech, be educated into
strength and measured and harmonious movement, and produce clear and
full intonation, distinct articulation, and emphatic utterance.
This particular department of muscular exercise and education, has greater
claims on our time and attention than any other. The organs of speech, with
few unfortunate exceptions, are possessed by all mankind ; they are in con-
stant use by all, their functions are of the highest moment to all, whether
for the display of the charms of song and poetry, the persuasion of oratory,
the invocation of prayer, and the numberless exchanges of opinion and ex-
pression of the affections and emotions in social intercourse. The most rigid
puritan or methodist, who would regard with distaste, perhaps horror, the ex-
ercises of the dance, and attach no importance to the graces of bodily move-
ment, will still be as naturally and properly desirous of cultivating the voice,
as the greatest stickler for worldly accomplishments. He does it in learning
to sing the praises of his Maker, and when engaged in the solemn exercises
of prayer and exhortation.
With the other sex, the charm of voice is a powerful means of persuasion
and control. It gives to woman much of her influence an influence de-
pending on the mildness of her manner, and her soft and musical tones, dis-
played in the language of sympathy, entreaty, and of kind remonstrance.
Her's is the privilege and the duty to be at the side of the suffering invalid,
in infancy, in youth, and in mature age ; to comfort the mourner, and to aid
the poor and distressed. And what makes the potions to the feverish patient
less nauseous what gives balm to the language of resignation, and imparts
the glow of pleasure to the wan and weary beggar, when she is, in each
rase, the ministering angel ! Much is in the pitying look, much in the in-
clining gesture and softened manner ; but still more in the tones of her voice,
her low and smoothly uttered words of solace and of hope.
Why then should this instrument, which is capable of giving out such ex-
quisite music, be jarred and discordant in its tones, through early neglect and
bad habits. It has been said by European travellers of both sexes, that Amer-
ican women would be in all respects charming, but for their want of melody
of voice in common speech. Surely this stigma, for such in one sense it is,
might be, and ought to be removed, just as the flutter, agitation, and jerking
movements of the body and limbs would be corrected, by appropriate exercise
and training under tasteful guidance and precept.
Still more necessary is this kind of education where the imperfection
amounts to disease, as in hesitancy, stammering, and other imperfect artieu-
iation. The cure requires time, patience on the part both of the invalid and
of the vocal doctor, and practice in the manner which scientific experience,
not impudent and boastful quackery, has shown to be most serviceable, so as
to give that confidence which is the result of conscious ability. The timidity
and feeling of embarrassment of the stammerer, are both effects and sustain,
ing causes of his impediment. So soon as he knows that his vocal organs
16 RECOMMENDATIONS.
are capable of obeying the commands of his will, and of giving expression
to his thoughts, his mind acts with more energy and intentness ; and he no
longer allows himself to be trammelled in his speech, by the weak, tremulous
and convulsive movements of the muscles, which, under less energetic voli-
tion, used to be so common with him.
When we wrote the caption of this article, we did not intend to direct the
attention of our professional brethren merely to the existing evils, but were
desirous to apprize them of the fact, that one of our own number has for many
years past concentrated his talents and his time exclusively to the subject of
Elocution, both in its hygienic relations with fluent speech in private and
public, in the social circle and at the bar, the pulpit and the legislative hall;
and, also, in its curative character, to remove stammering and other impedi.
ments to clear and distinct articulation and utterance. The gentleman to
whom we refer, is Dr. Andrew Comstock of this city. He makes no preten-
sion to a knowledge of any specific for the cure of stammerers, nor does he
attempt to shroud his method in unintelligible jargon, nor to conceal it from
public and scientific investigation, by swearing his pupils to secrecy. All
these are arts and tricks unworthy of the literary and professional character,
and disreputable, above all, to him who professes to be a teacher, and in whom
manly sincerity ought ever to shine conspicuously, as an example to those
under his charge.
In Doctor Comstock's Institution, " Elocution is treated as a science as well
as an art. The various movements of the voice, both in speech and song,
are illustrated by original diagrams, and by oral instruction The exercises
give the pupil complete command of the muscles of articulation, extend the
compass of the voice and render it smooth, powerful, and melodious. They
not only call forth all the energies of the vocal organs, correct stammering,
lisping, and other impediments of speech ; but they invigorate the lungs, and
consequently fortify them against the invasion of disease." To a certain ex-
tentj general is associated with vocal gymnastics ; and one great cause of em-
barrassment from awkwardness of manner and posture in the stammerer, is
removed by the substitution of a free and easy carriage and movements of the
arms in gesticulation. In other words, all the voluntary muscles of the trunk
and limbs move in the order required by the will, synchronously and harmo-
niously with those of the voice.
In proof that Doctor Comstock is above the petty arts of making elocution
a mere craft and mystery, we have now before us, Remarks on Stammering,
from a Lecture on Elocution, delivered before the American Lyceum, May 6,
] 837, in which he explains the chief features of his system, and indicates the
kind and order of exercises to be pursued for the cure of Stammerers. But
like all other branches of professional knowledge, this can only be rendered
efficient and applicable to the cure of individual cases by a practitioner, a
person who directs knowingly and understandingly, and superintends care-
fully and patiently, the treatment, making such modifications as seem to bo
called for by his own personal experience and the idiosyncracy of the patient.
RECOMMENDATIONS. 17
From the Public Ledger, July 27, 1837.
Remarks on Stammering. We f have received a small pampMet with this
utle, being the substance of a lecture delivered before the American Lyceum,
May 6, 1837, by Andrew Comstock, M. D., of this city. He has treated his
subject scientifically, and in a manner showing that he understands the
human voice both theoretically and practically. He has been engaged for ten
years, investigating the human voice, for the purpose of forming a system of
iust elocution, and of removing impediments of speech ; and from reading
*his little pamphlet, we should infer that he had been successful.
From the United States Gazette.
CONGRESS HALL, Philadelphia, Nov. 25, 1837.
ANDREW COMSTOCK, M. D.
DEAR SIR, Before leaving your city, allow me to express to you the perfect
satisfaction I feel, in witnessing the progress which my son has made in
Elocution under your instruction.
The habit of stammering which commenced with his early efforts to speak,
and which thirteen years (his present age) seemed only to confirm, is now,
with six weeks' instruction, completely eradicated.
Though delighted beyond expression in this result, I am not disappointed.
From the moment I became acquainted with your method of instruction, I
did not doubt its entire success. Founded on scientific principles, it must
succeed in all cases where there is no malformation of the organs of speech.
You have reduced to a system what before was but imperfectly understood,
and done most essential service to mankind in elevating a numerous class of
unfortunate fellow-beings, and saved them from the impositions of ignorant
and unprincipled empirics.
Very respectfully, your obedient sen-ant,
E. PIERCE, M. D. of Athens, N. Y.
From the Public Ledger, March 17, 1838.
STAMMERING CURED.
PHILADELPHIA, March 1, 1838.
MESSRS. EDITORS, Being about to leave this city for the West, I would
ihank you to give publicity to my testimony as to the skill of Dr. Andrew
Comstock, No. 100, Arch street, Philadelphia, in removing stammering. I
have been under his care about eight weeks, for the removal of a painful
impediment of eighteen years standing, which debarred me from the plea-
sures of conversation and social intercourse. I can now converse very
fluently, and have addressed large audiences without the least hesitation,
34
18 RECOMMENDATIONS.
I am now 23 years of age, and you can judge of my gratitude to him for
removing a complaint which has embittered the greatest part of my life. I
take great pleasure in recommending him to those similarly afflicted. His
system being founded on scientific principles, and the fact of his being the
only individual in America, who professes the cure of stammering, without
exacting from his patient a promise of secrecy, proves that his system wi,i
bear investigation.
WM. R. COMBS.
WE certify that we have been intimately acquainted with Wtii. R. Combt
for the last three years ; that he was a very bad stammerer, and that he was
entirely relieved under the instruction of Dr. Andrew Comstock, of No. 100,
Arch street, Philadelphia.
JOHN R. BECK, No. 17, Elizabeth st.
THOMAS J. WHITE, No. 380, N. Second st
JACOB GRIM, No. 480, N. Third st.
THOMAS P. HEYL, No. 173, Green st.
STAMMERING CURED.
PHILADELPHIA, March 9, 1838.
MESSRS. EDITORS, About seven weeks since I placed myself under the
care of Dr. Andrew Comstock, No. 100, Arch street, Philadelphia, for the
removal of an impediment in my speech, with which I had been afflicted for
thirteen years. I am now happy to state that I am able to converse with
ease and fluency, and that I feel no hesitation in speaking in public. I have
witnessed the same happy results in many other cases, both of ladies and
gentlemen. I have not a doubt of his success in curing the most inveterate
stammerer. Unlike all others who have professed to cure stammering in this
country, Dr. Comstock exacts no promise of secrecy from his patient.
HENRY J. ENNIS
No. 248, Pearl street, New- York.
From the Phcenix Civilian, Cumberland, Md., May 19, 1838.
Our acquaintance with the young gentleman mentioned below, who ha
received the benefit of Dr. Comstock's treatment in the cure of an impedi-
ment of speech under which he laboured, enables us to bear evidence of the
efficacy of that treatment. Since his return from Philadelphia, where ho
had been under Dr. Comstock's care for a short time, we find that his speech
is free and easy ; so much so, that had we not been aware of the great difil
culty under which he laboured before, we should not now kn^v that he evei
had been cured of such an affliction.
RECOMMENDATIONS. 19
From the Pennsylvania^ Philadelphia, April 26, 1838.
A GRATIFYING TESTIMONIAL.
The subjoined letter to Dr. Comstock, Professor of Elocution, of this city,
is from a young gentleman of great respectability, residing at Cumberland,
Allegany county, Maryland, where his father is one of the leading prac-
titioners at the bar. The writer of the letter, who, we believe, is a student
at law, laboured under a serious impediment in speech, which would have
greatly interfered with his professional advancement; but it appears from hia
own statement, that under the care of Dr. Comstock, he was completely and
radically cured. The letter subjoined, is a voluntary and grateful testimonial
to that effect
CUMBERLAND, Md., April 20, 1838.
DR. ANDREW COMSTOCK :
DEAR SIR, I have deferred giving a certificate with regard to the success
I met with in my recent visit to your Institution, No. 100, Arch street, Phi-
ladelphia, for the purpose of removing an impediment in my speech, until
the present period, that I might thoroughly test the effects of your system
upon my articulation by time and experience. Both of these, I am happy
to inform you, find me now as was the case when I left Philadelphia on
the 13th of February last perfectly fluent in reading as well as in conversa-
tion so much so, that it would be impossible for any one who had no pre-
vious knowledge of my impediment, to know that any such defect ever
afflicted me.
But besides the happy effect your system has had in relieving my impedi-
ment, it has been of incalculable benefit to me in many other respects. My
voice, which was formerly weak, and incapable of being raised very little
higher than the ordinary tone used in common conversation, has been
greatly improved and strengthened ; and now it costs me but a slight
physical effort to fill a considerable space.
In conclusion, I unhesitatingly recommend all those similarly afflicted, to
make a trial of your system. Besides the success which has attended it in
my own case, I have seen many others greatly benefited both ladies and
gentlemen. This speaks more strongly in its favour than words can express,
and should remove all doubt from the minds of individuals, if any exist, as
to its efficacy in effecting a cure.
Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
CHARLES H. J. PIGMAN.
DR. COMSTOCK'S
EXHIBITIONS IN VOCAL GYMNASTICS.
The STAMMERERS under Dr. Comstock, both Ladies
and Gentlemen, give a variety of recitations, at the Vocal
Gymnasium, (entrance by Ranstead Court, Fourth St. above
Chesnut,) every Tuesday evening.
TICKETS, 25 cents each, and may be obtained at
Osborn's Music Store, Fourth Street, two doors below Ran-
stead Court. Each ticket admits a gentleman and two
ladies. The exercises commence at 8 o'clock.
jXT 3 The design of these Exhibitions is to give confidence
to the Stammerer, which is so essential to his relief, and
make the public better acquainted with the system of
instruction and its beneficial results. The sale of tickets is
to secure an audience of respectable persons, and defray the
incidental expenses.
ANDREW COMSTOCK
RECOMMENDATIONS.
From the Public Ledger, February 6, 1838.
VOCAL GYMNASTICS.
A class of students in elocution, and stammerers, under Dr. Comstcck,
exhibited at the Vocal Gymnasium, (Ranstead Court, Fourth Street, above
Chesnut,) on Saturday evening last. Dr. Comstock's lecture on elocution
and stammering displayed an intimate knowledge of his subject, and the
performances of the class did infinite credit to his talents as a teacher.
(20)
RECOMMENDATIONS. 21
From the Pennsylvanian, February 6, 1838.
DR. COMSTOCK, the professor of elocution, gave an exhibition on Saturday
evening, at the Temperance Hall, N. L., for the purpose chiefly of affording
a practical explanation of his system of instruction, and showing its success
in the cure of stammering and other defects of speech. A large audience,
many ladies being among the number, was present, and the exercises evi-
dently gave general satisfaction. It was surprising to hear the firmness and
smoothness with which the pupils spoke, many of whom until recently were
confirmed stammerers, and it was still more surprising to learn in how short
a tiro? the evil habit had been eradicated, the consciousness of a complete
cure bing strongly manifest in the modest confidence with which the Doc-
tor's pupils, several of whom were young ladies, went through their recita-
tions before so large an audience. It must not, however, be supposed that
this system of instruction is intended solely for the stammerer. Founded
upon the sound philosophical principles laid down by Dr. Rush, it is impor
tant in many respects. It has a wonderful effect in developing the voice,
and in giving it volume, flexibility and compass, while the practice of the
elements strengthens the chest, and 's very beneficial to the general health,
fortifying it in a measure against the approach of diseases of the lungs.
The advantage of vocal gymnastics judiciously conducted, is not yet per-
haps fully appreciated, but it is more than probable that the time will come
when they will form a part of every liberal course of instruction.
From the Public Ledger, February 16, 1838.
VOCAL GYMNASTICS.
The exhibition of Dr. Comstock's class of Stammerers, at Temperance
Hall, on Wednesday evening, was highly gratifying to a numerous and
highly respectable audience of ladies and gentlemen. The system pursued
appears to be calculated to accomplish the end in view ; but the eminent
success it has so far met with, is to be ascribed, in a great degree, to the
talents of Dr. Comstock as a teacher.
From the Christian Advocate and Journal, New - York, April 27, 1838.
PHILADELPHIA, April 2, 1838.
DEAR BRETHREN, Having attended Dr. Comstock's exhibitions, I am fully
persuaded, that with proper attention on the part of the pupils, he can cure
them. I was induced to attend in consequence of his having in his class a
particular friend of mine, whose case was one of the worst I ever knew
and to my astonishment, he addressed an audience without the least diffi
culty, making quite a display as an orator. His age is about twenty-one
years. If you feel at liberty to notice him in your paper, you may render
essential service to stammerers. Respectfully,
J. HARMSTEAD.
34* c2
22 RECOMMENDATIONS.
From the United States Gazette, April 30, 1838.
STAMMERERS.
The recitations, and other vocal exercises, made on Tuesday evenings, at
Dr. Comstock's Vocal Gymnasium, in Ranstead Court, furnish evidence of
great success in his mode of teaching. His pupils, to the number of thirtj
or forty, male and female, give recitations in a style that shows, not only th
entire absence of any disposition to stammer, but evincing also a striking
proficiency in the agreeable, as well as useful science of elocution.
From the Pennsylvania Inquirer, May 10, 1838.
STAMMERING.
A friend in whose judgment as well as impartiality we place reliance,
speaks in terms of warm commendation of Dr. Comstock's success in curing
Impediments in speech, and imparting a free action to the organs of articu-
lation. The public recitations of his class, which take place every Tuesday
evening, at his room adjoining the Church in Ranstead Court, are spoken of
as furnishing evidence of success in curing stammerers, as well as of striking
proficiency in elocution, which Dr. C. teaches with great effect.
From the United States Gazette.
MR. EDITOR, I have attended two of the Vocal Gymnastic Exhibitions
which have attracted so much attention in our city. The design of these
exhibitions, as stated by Dr. Comstock, with whom they have originated, and
by whom they are conducted, is to enable the stammerer to rid himself of
that timidity which is a greater or less aggravation of his disease. If
timidity in one who has no impediment of speech, interrupts the utterance
of thoughts, surely in a confirmed stammerer, it must be a source of the
highest degree of embarrassment to the vocal organs. Timidity, then, must
be removed before the stammerer can have full command of his own organs
of speech. To do this, Dr. Comstock brings his whole class, both ladies and
gentlemen, before the crowded houses which assemble to hear the welkin
ring with their various exercises in what is well denominated by Dr. C.
VOCAL GYMNASTICS. Could art, science, experience, wisdom, or philosophy,
suggest a more efficacious means for the destruction of timidity than the
production of courage by individual and collective public speaking ? Nor is
the performance of these stammerers void of all powers to edify, and amuse
there is much to instruct, and please, both in manner and matter, in these
exhibitions, which, for the sake of the great good they seem likely to pro
duce to the afflicted stammerer, I hope will be fully sustained by this
enlightened public.
A WELL WISHER to Freedom of Speech,
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION, Or, A System of Vocal
Gymnastics, comprising Diagrams, illustrative of the sub-
ject, and Exercises, designed for the Promotion of Health,
the Cure of Stammering, and Improvement in Reading
and Speaking. By ANDREW COMSTOCK, M. D. Second
Edition. Kay & Brother, 122, Chesnut Street.
RECOMMENDATIONS.
From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier, Dec. 2, 1837.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Dr. COMSTOCK, a gentleman with whose name our readers are familiar as
the scientific curer of Stammering, has issued a second edition of his work
on Practical Elocution. It is believed to be the best practical work extant
upon this important subject It is based upon the philosophical develope-
ments of the celebrated Dr. Rush ; and so far as strengthening the lungg is
concerned, the exercises it teaches are of vast importance. Those who do
not intend to become orators, may cultivate and improve the conversational
and colloquial powers, and secure a grace, ease and power, that will render
them polished and sought-for intelligences in the mystic roads of social
intercourse. The work is illustrated with engravings, and very beautifully
got up both in paper and print.
From the Philadelphia Saturday News, Dec. 2, 1837.
RACTICAL ELOCUTION, Or, A System of Vocal Gymnastics, &c. By
ANDREW COMSTOCK, M. D.
Dr. Comstock is known as a skilful and scientific teacher of elocution.
He has devoted much study to the subject, and has had the advantage of
very considerable experience in the practical application of his knowledge.
His classes are generally filled with pupils, and their success is the best
testimonial of the merits of his system.
This volume will be found a valuable aid to those who are engaged eithei
in teaching or acquiring the important art of elocution. Besides a concise
but sufficiently clear, analysis of the subject, and various explanatory details,
it furnishes a series of diagrams calculated very much to facilitate the pro.
gress of the learners. These diagrams have been prepared with much care
and labour, and reflect high praise on the industry and ability of Doctor
Comstock.
(23)
24 RECOMMENDATIONS.
From the United States Gazette.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Messrs. Kay & Brother, 122, Chesnut street, have published a second edi-
tion of Dr. Andrew Comstock's PRACTICAL ELOCUTION, OR, A SYSTEM OF
VOCAL GYMNASTICS. We really believe that the great labour and amount of
time which Dr. C. has bestowed upon this volume, will be productive of essen-
tial benefits to the learner. The selections are apposite, and the remarks
such as show the author master of his subject.
From the Saturday Chronicle, Philadelphia, Dec. 2, 1837.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION. Kay <^ Brother. Philadelphia.
The volume now before us, comprises a system of " Vocal Gymnastics,"
by Andrew Comstock, M. D., and consists of diagrams, illustrative of the
subject, and exercises. The plan recommended is designed for thf promotion
of health, cure of stammering, and improvement in reading and speaking.
The rapid sale of its first edition seems to be a proof of Us popularit} ; while
several men of eminence in literature and science have pronounced Doctor
Comstock's system a decided improvement upon the usual routine of teach-
ing in Elocution.
From the Public Ledger, Philadelphia, Dec. 5, 1837.
COMSTOCK'S PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
We have received from Dr. Andrew Comstock, of this city, a copy of his
late work, entitled " Practical Elocution, or, a System of Vocal Gymnastics,
comprising Diagrams and Exercises, &c., designed for the promotion of
health, the cure of stammering, and improvement in reading and speaking."
This work contains rules for pronouncing all the vowels, sub-vowels, and
diphthongs in the English language, with plates to illustrate the position of
the mouth in pronouncing them. These sounds he denominates elements ;
and he gives tables exhibiting an analysis of words, consisting of both easy
and difficult combinations of these elements. In spelling these words, the
pupil is required to pronounce the clement or vowel sound, and not the name
of the letter or combination of letters which represent it, as is usual in the
schools. The book also contains rules for every species of modulation and
intonation of the voice, and of time, in reading, speaking, and singing.
It contains remarks on stammering, and rules for curing it; and practical
lessons in reading and speaking, consisting of selections in prose and verse,
printed with different characters, to denote the proper modulations. It also
contains plates, representing every variety of attitude and gesture required
good speaking.
RECOMMENDATIONS. 25
This mast be a valuable work to those who would learn to read or speak
well, and especially to those afflicted with stammering or other impedimenta
of speech. It is useless to dilate upon the importance of elocution to all
who have occasion to read or speak to others. To lawyers, legislators, cler-
gymen, and speakers in public meetings, it is particularly important; for
though to intelligent and well informed minds, the graces of manner add
nothing to the force of argument, they are exceedingly important in securing
an attentive hearing. An indifferent sermon, if well preached, will produce
great effect, while one of the highest order, badly delivered, will be lost upon
a great portion of the audience. This is entirely because the first secures
the attention of its hearers, and thereby enables every argument or illustra-
tion to reach their understandings; while the second is not understood,
because not heard.
We recommend Dr. Comstock's book to every person who would wish to
speak or read well.
From the Herald and Sentinel, Philadelphia, Dec. 11, 1837
COMSTOCK'S PRACTICAL ELOCUTION.
Dr. COMSTOCK has been long and favourably known in this city as a
teacher of elocution. The art of public speaking is a common attainment;
but the art of speaking effectively, powerfully, and well, by a proper disci-
pline of voice, gesture and action, is no easy acquisition. The voice is a
great instrument of influence. Some orators who have been " vox et pra-
terea nihil" by means of a good voice alone, have been able to exercise an
astonishing sway over their auditors. The full developement of the vocal
organs should be a primary exercise with all ambitious for the honours of
successful orators, and we know of no better disciplinarian in these matters
than Dr. Comstock. The work before us, entitled " Practical Elocution," is
an expose of his principles of teaching, and will serve as an instructive
manual to those studying his method. It is better calculated, however, as a
manual for his pupils, than for students in general. It shows great skill and
industry, and is highly creditable to the knowledge and research of the
author.
From Atkinson's Saturday Evening Post, Dec. 16, 1837.
Dr. ANDREW COMSTOCK, of this city, has published a second edition of a
work entitled "Practical Elocution," of which he is the author. There are
few subjects which receive less, while its importance demands a greater
share of attention, than this of Elocution. Every organ of the human body
is dependent on exercise for its true and proper developement. There are
<ew persons who do not feel the embarrassment which arises from an imper
33*
26 RECOMMENDATIONS.
feet enunciation. The work before us conveys much valuable instruction on
this subject. To render the doctrine it communicates more evident, the
different movements of the voice are illustrated by original diagrams. Dr.
Cornstock has for some years been a successful teacher of Elocution, and in
his experience has found the exercises in these diagrams happily adapted to
render the muscles of speech subject to volition, to extend the compass of
the voice and increase its power.
From the American Weekly Messenger, Dec. 20, 1837.
Dr. COMSTOCK is well known in this city as a practical teacher of Elocu-
tion. His experience with his classes has given him great advantages m the
preparation of this volume, which appears to be complete, so far as diagrams,
marks expressive of the pronunciation of words, and minute practical direc-
tions, can render it so. To those persons who are so unfortunate as to have
contracted a habit of stammering, and to foreigners who wish to acquire a
correct pronunciation of our language, this volume will prove an invaluable
acquisition. Students in oratory may consult the figures illustrative of ges-
ture with advantage ; and teachers of reading and declamation should not
consider their libraries complete without this volume.
From the Daily Focus, Philadelphia, April 17, 1838.
COMSTOCK'S PRACTICAL ELOCUTION : Published by Kay Sf Brother, 122, Chea
nut Street.
We have received a very handsome edition of the above work, which we
cheerfully recommend to young men, as a valuable assistant in the study of
true oratory. The work is illustrated with a number of plates representing
the proper position of the mouth in pronouncing, and also the most graceful
and natural attitudes and gestures of the limbs and body, in order to give
full force and expression to language.
Dr. Comstock has, in the book before us, proved himself abundantly quali-
fied to teach the oral developement of thought, and we therefore wish he
may continue his labours, and have large classes of pupils.
MISCELLANEOUS RECOMMENDATIONS.
From the Public Ledger, Philadelphia, February 27, 1838.
VOCAL GYMNASTICS.
We observe, by a notice among our list of business cards this morning,
Umt the residence of Dr. Comstock, whose success in the cure of impedimenta
in the speech, and improvement in elocution and address of his pupils, we
believe is unsurpassed by any instructor in the country, is at 100 Arch Street.
Dr. C. possesses a double advantage over most of his profession, in his tho-
rough acquaintance with the physical, as well as mental, capacity of hia"
fellow man. The fourth exhibition of his class of young ladies and gentle-
men, will be given this evening, at the Commissioners' Hall, Southwark,
where, in addition to their various recitations, a lecture will be delivered by
the Rev. Jacob M. Douglass.
From the Saturday Courier, Philadelphia, Dec. 15, 1838.
Mr. John Taylor, of Hinsdale, N. H., was the other morning in our study
and exhibited the wonderful improvement made by eleven weeks' residence
with Dr. Comstock. He told us he had been all his life dreadfully troubled
with an impediment of speech ; but he read to us with the most perfect ease
and freedom. We take pleasure in recording such cases for the benefit of
others.
From the Daily Buffalo Journal, (N. F.,) March 27, 1839.
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION A REMEDY FOR STAMMERING.
DR. COMSTOCK, of Philadelphia, has acquired great fame, both as a teacher
of elocution, and as a successful practitioner in removing all defects in speech.
The voice is produced by muscular contraction, and hence depends wholly
on the power of the muscles, which propel the air through the vocal organs,
and modulate the same, for the strength, compass, distinctness, or confusion
of the various sounds emitted in speaking or singing.
Dr. Comstock has investigated this subject in all its bearings, and pointed
out, in a clear and scientific manner, the cause of stammering, and other de-
fects of speech, in his work on Practical Elocution, (which has been some
years before the public ;) and has opened a school in Philadelphia for teaching
elocution, and removing defects in speech, upon philosophical principles.
28 RECOMMENDATIONS.
A late number of the World, published in the city of brotherly love, con.
tains a very commendatory notice of the eminent ability and success which
attend the labours of this learned and indefatigable practitioner, in an im-
portant branch of science, to the investigation of which his whole life has
been devoted. Knowing well the history of this gentleman, and having once
enjoyed the honour of a personal acquaintance, we do not hesitate to recom-
mend his school as possessing the highest claims to public confidence.
Extract from the Lyceum Report, published in the World, Philadel-
phia, June 19, 1839.
At 4i o'clock the meeting was called to order, and a lecture delivered on
Elocution, by Dr. Comstock, and an interesting exhibition by his class, several
of whom had been inveterate stammerers ; one in particular, a married gen-
tleman from the east, (who said he had to do his courting by signs,) spoke so
well, after only six weeks' instruction, as to prove Dr. C.'s teaching completely
effectual.
Half-past 5 o'clock, the company, in fine health and spirits, adjourned.
G. W. WOOLLEY, Secretary, pro. tern.
From the United States Gazette, June 29, 1839.
Sometime since, Dr Comstock called on us with a person from Vermont,
who had applied to him to be cured of stammering ; he certainly needed help.
Yesterday, the Doctor and his patient called on us again ; the latter talked
and read as fluently as any person we ever saw. The person to whom we
refer, mentioned that he should now go home, and talk with a near relation,
to whom he had never spoken, as she was rather deaf, and he had stammered
so abominably as to be wholly unable to make her comprehend him.
From the Village Record, West Chester, Penn., September 10, 1839.
STAMMERING AND ELOCUTION.
From numerous testimonials of the success of DR. COMSTOCK, of Philadel-
phia, in improving the voice, particularly of Stammerers, we sometime since
selected the following from a Philadelphia paper, for presentation to our
readers. To those afflicted with an impediment of the speech, all discoveries,
or efficient modes for amending the vocal organs, must be matter of peculiar
interest. We have repeatedly visited the institution of Dr. C., and have seen
numerous instances of improvement no less striking than the one referred to
below. Dr. C. is unremitting in his attention to his pupils ; exact in his ex-
position of the principles of elocution ; and affords to his pupils a wide range
*br practice. As a teacher, he commands the respect of his pupils, while his
gentlemanly deportment towards them is sure to win their permanent esteem.
His office is at No. 100 Arch Street, Philadelphia.
RECOMMENDATIONS. 29
" M* CHARLES R. READ, from Vermont, called upon us, and read as fluently
as any one. Eight weeks since we conversed with the same gentleman, and
he could not articulate a sentence without stammering badly. He had been
afflicted from his infancy. His mother stammered, and he has a sister who
is also subject to the same infirmity. Mr. Read tells us he intends to send
her to the care of Dr. Comstock, who has been so successful in his own case.
We look upon it as doing stammerers a kindness, by constantly keeping them
advised of such important facts." Saturday Courier.
From the Philadelphia Gazelle, October 5, 1839.
VOCAL GYMNASTICS.
We attended an exhibition of DR. COMSTOCK'S class of stammerers last
evening, at the Temperance Hall, N. L., and were much pleased with the
exercises. We believe that Dr. C.'s system is well calculated to accomplish
the very desirable relief so much needed by those afflicted with a hesitancy
of speech. One individual, who had been under tuition but nine days, gave
ample testimony of the efficiency of the system.
From the Pennsylvania Inquirer, Philadelphia, Nov. 22, 1839.
A STAMMERER CURED.
We were called upon yesterday by a gentleman of Bradford county, Pa.,
thirty -seven years of age, who, until within a month, had been an inveterate
stammerer from childhood. A few weeks since, however, he was induced to
place himself under the care of Doctor Comstock, of this city, who speedily
effected a perfect cure. The gentleman called upon us to illustrate the excel-
lence of the system, in his own case ; and, also, with the object of making
some public acknowledgment of the great and important benefit that had
been conferred. He spoke with ease and fluency, and recited one or two
passages of poetry, with taste and discrimination. Those of our citizens,
however, who desire the most satisfactory evidence of the effects of this sys-
tem, are invited to visit the Musical Fund Hall, on Monday evening next,
when Dr. Comstock and his class of stammerers will give a variety of exer-
cises and recitations.
From the Public Ledger, November 25, 1839.
Dr. Comstock's exhibition of Vocal Gymnastics takes place at the Musical
Fund Hall, this evening, November 25, at half-past seven o'clock. It gives
us pleasure to recommend the Doctor's system of instruction, which, after
cool examination, we believe to be excellent and unrivalled. The perform,
ances of his pupils, who were formerly stammerers, are truly astonishing.
Let every one judge for himself. We were pleased to see his former exhibi-
tion, at Temperance Hall, attended by a crowd of ladies and gentlemen.
35
SO RECOMMENDATIONS.
From the North American, Philadelphia, March 19, 1840.
Dr. COMSTOCK left with us yesterday for exhibition, one of his charts repre-
senting the mouth in every form and position which it seems to be enabled
to assume in the enunciation of sounds. Attached to it are scales for the
modulation of the voice, which are of great service to the student. The sue-
cess which has attended Dr. Comstock's instructions, has been of the most
striking character.
From the Philadelphia Crazette, March 21, 1840.
Dr. COMSTOCK, elocutionist of this city, has published a large chart, mount-
ed on rollers and varnished, entitled " A Table of the Elements of the Eng-
lish Language." This table condenses, as it were, the instruction of a half
years' study, in the useful and requisite art of elocution. It should 1 be hung
up in the library of every orator, or every one who would be an orator, whe-
ther of the Pulpit or the Bar. If one is naturally an orator, it will assist in
developing those powers; if he is not, an assiduous study of the chart will
make him one. Pebbles helped DEMOSTHENES, until the wide round world
was vocal with his name ; and why should not a map of mounted eloquence
do the same, to some one in the nineteenth century ?
From the Pennsylvanian, March 24, 1840.
ELOCUTION. Dr. Comstock, of this city, has published a large chart mount-
ed upon rollers, entitled " A Table of the Elements of the English Language."
This Table gives, in a condensed form, and as it were, at a single view, the
principles upon which Dr. Comstock's system of instruction in elocution is
founded, and as he is eminently successful in making good speakers, and in
curing defects in articulation, the chart will doubtless be found very service-
able both to his pupils and to others.
From the Inquirer, Philadelphia, March 30, 1840.
Dr. COMSTOCK'S TABLE. Dr. Andrew Comstock, of this city, has published
a Table of the Elements of the English Language, which appears to us ad-
mirably suited to facilitate boys in their exercises of reading and improve-
ment of gesticulation. For stammerers, and those affected with impediments
of speech, it possesses great merit. Indeed, the chart is particularly calcu
lated for schools, and embodies, in a single sheet, an entire system, very sim-
ple in its operation, and the result of years of labour. Dr. Comstock has de-
servedly acquired much reputation, in Philadelphia, as a successful teachei
in the particular branch to which he- devotes his attention.
From the United States Gazette, Philadelphia, April 15, 1840.
Dr. COMSTOCK has issued a large sheet, containing the Elements of the
English Language, with illustrations of the mode of uttering simple and com-
pound sounds, figures exemplifying the gestures for certain recitations, and
mots or notes for the pitch and government of the voice in reading ; the lat
ter in accordance with Dr. Rush's system of the human voice.
Dr. Comstock has been eminently successful as a teacher of elocution, be
cause he teaches radically ; and, as a curer of stuttering, we believe Dr. C
has never been excelled.
RECOMMENDATIONS. 31
From the World, Philadelphia, March 20, 1839.
DR COMSTOCK. We have received^ from the author a small pamphlet, con-
taining a Lecture on Elocution, with remarks on stammering, delivered before
the American Lyceum in this city, on the 6th of May, 1837, by Dr. Com-
stock. He is well known in this city, as remarkably successful in the cure
of all defects in speech, and also for teaching elocution upon philosophical
principles. His school contains pupils from various and distant parts of the
country, resorting to him for the cure of stammering and other vocal defects.
He h o published a work on Practical Elocution, the perusal of which will
show that his lessons are important to others besides those afflicted with
stammering; for all public speakers, whether lawyers, preachers or politicians,
will derive advantages from observing his rules. The voice, like any other
part of the system connected with voluntary muscular action, is susceptible
of cultivation. It is regulated by a very complicated system of muscles, and
must therefore be more or less under command, in proportion to the control
of the individual over these muscles. Why are the muscles of a blacksmith's
striking arm larger than those of his holding arm ? Because they are more
exercised. Why have porters, stage drivers, and those whose legs are most
exercised, larger femoral and crural muscles, than people of sedentary habits?
For the same reason. Then if one set of muscles is improved by cultiva-
tion, so may be another ; and therefore, as the voice is regulated by mus-
cular action, it must necessarily be improved by proper exercise.
This theory, which, as every anatomist knows, is founded on fact, explains
the whole system of stammering and other vocal defects. They proceed from
paralysis, weakness, or other causes, producing want of control over the vocal
muscles. Such defects in the leg or arm, produce lameness in these limbs.
Similar defects or infirmities in the vocal muscles, must produce lameness of
the voice. This point established, the indication of cure is obvious. It con-
sists in restoring activity to the vocal muscles by exercise, by cultivation
Singers never stammer, and stammering is often cured by singing. Why ?
Because singing gives active exercise to the vocal muscles. But it will not
always cure stammering, because the defect may be in certain muscles
which singing cannot reach, or reach with sufficient force. To supply the
deficiency, we need the professor of elocution, who understands the voice
anatomically, physiologically, and pathologically, or in other words, who un-
derstands the structure, actions, and diseases of the parts of the human
system subservient to the voice. Dr. Comstack has particularly studied this
subject, and his success as a practitioner proves that he has studied it faithfully.
I most cheerfully endorse the preceding certificates relative to Dr. Com-
stock's success in removing impediments of speech. Having spent several
weeks in his Gymnasium, for the purpose of improving my voice, and of
removing an impediment to which I had always been more or less subject, I
am able to speak both from observation and experience. I consider his svstern
of vocal gymnastics eminently fitted to accomplish the end designed : viz. to
bring the orgdns of speech, by a thorough cuurse of drilling, entirely under
the control of volition. True it is, that much energy and perseverance,
as well as time and patience, are necessary on the part of the afflicted in
order to be entirely relieved. But I am confident that where there is no
rnal-formation of the vocal organs, an entire cure may be effected.
F. W. FISK.
Philadelphia, Avril 27A, 1840.
32 RECOMMENDATIONS.
From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier, April 3, 1841.
CURE OF STAMMERING.
Two young gentlemen called in our sanctum the other morning, and we
had a pleasant conversation with them on the extraordinary benefit they had
derived from having been a few weeks in the Vocal Gymnasium of Dr. Corn-
stock. One of them, John Scribner, jr., is from. Poplin, N. H. He told us,
that fourteen weeks ago he could not converse at all without stammering in
the pronunciation of almost e*ery word. He conversed with us the morning
we saw him, as fluently as Daniel Webster or Mr. Forsyth could ; and we
should say his friends will be delighted to hold converse with him on his re-
turn to the salubrious atmosphere of the " Granite State." The other young
gentleman is Mr. William H. Cornell, of Clinton, New York. He is eighteen
years old, and had been a stammerer all his life, until Dr. Comstock had the
gratification of receiving him under his discipline of the vocal powers. He
has been there but four weeks, and conversed with us with very little impedi-
ment of speech ; and by the first of May, when he proposes to return to the
beautiful region of Dutchess county, he will be able to descant upon the
sweets of the " buds and the flowers " with as much buoyancy of speech as
the most lovely young damsel around his romantic home. We are happy in
stating such cases, for the encouragement of others in distant portions of the
country, who may be labouring under the painful difficulties which impedi.
ments of speech impose.
From the National Gazette, Philadelphia, Nov. 17, 1841.
A STAMMERER CURED.
PHILADELPHIA, Nov. 10, 1841.
Messrs. EDITORS For nearly twenty years I was an inveterate stammerer.
The habit was contracted when I was four years old, in consequence of the
severe treatment of a schoolmaster. Being anxious to have a cure effected, if
possible, but almost despairing, I placed myself, six weeks ago, under the
care of Dr. Andrew Comstock of this city, and the result has been a most
happy one. Since the third day after I entered his Vocal Gymnasium, I have
been able to converse with friends and strangers, without any impediment
whatever. I unhesitatingly recommend all who stammer to make a trial of
Dr. C.'s mode of treatment. It is founded on philosophical principles, and I
feel confident, if persevered in, will always produce the same beneficial results
as my own case. I shall reside, during the winter, at No. 200 Arch Street,
where I shall be happy to receive a visit from any one who may desire far-
ther information on the subject. Respectfully,
LEVI S. YATES, of Williamston, N. C.,
Student of Medicine in the University of Pennsylvania.
From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier, July 21, 1838.
STAMMERERS.
WE notice as an interesting fact, that C. H. J. Pieman, Esq., (a young gentleman who
was recently in our office, while under the care of Dr. Comstock. for stammering,) de-
livered the oration at Cumberland, Md., on the 4th instant. ]t was a clear and distinct
performance, and was well received by a large auditory. A copy in print has been re-
ceived hy us. The Civilian of that place remarks, that the enunciation of Mr. Pigmaa
is so clear, that if it had not previously been known that he had laboured severely under
an impediment, none who hear him speak would be aware that he had ever been troubled
with such a difficulty. Mr. Pigmau and his friends (who are highly respectable), unite
in bestowing great credit upon the scientific skill of Dr. Comstock. We think we do
unfortunate stammerers a kindness by commending this gentleman to their consideration
THE
PHONETIC READER:
CONSISTING OF
A SELECTION OF PIECES,
CLASSICAL AND MORAL,
IN PROSE AND VERSE,
IN BOTH THE OLD AND THE NEW ALPHABET;
TO WHICH IS PREFIXED
A SYSTEM OF VOCAL GYMNASTICS.
DESIGNED
FOR SCHOOLS, AS WELL AS FOR INDIVIDUALS, WHETHER NA
TIVES OR FOREIGNERS, WHO WISH TO ACQUIRE THE TRUE
PRONUNCIATION OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.
BY ANDREW COMSTOCK, M.D.
PRINCIPAL OF THE VOCAL AND POLYQLOTT GYMNASIUM, AUTHOR Of
A SYSTEM OF ELOCUTION, ETC.
PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY E. H. BUTLER & CO.
1847.
A PHONETIC ALPHABET OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE,
BY ANDREW COMSTOCK. M. D.
IN the following Table there is a character for each of the 38 ele-
mentary sounds of the English Language. For the sake of brevity,
there are also 6 compound letters, each to be used, in particular instances,
to represent two elementary sounds.
THE 38 SIMPLE LETTERS.
15 Vowels.
14 Subvowels.
9 Aspirates.
E e
ale
B b
bow
P p
pit
A a
arm
D d
day
T t
tin
Q o
all
J j
a^ure
C c
shade
A a
an
G g
9*Y
K k
kite
I i
eve
Z Z
2-one
S s
sin
E s
end
V v
vile
F f
fame
I i
He
A 6
then
a
thin
I i
^n
L 1
Zight
H h
hut
Q G)
old
R r
roll
Q q
what
^ 8
lose
M m
met
O o
on
N n
no
11 LI
twbe
JJ i]
song
U u
up
Ww
rvo
U IT
full
Y y
yoke
(p
out
THE 6 COMPOUND LETTERS.
a a
oil
JO cj
^'ob
T3 6
etch
8
air
Q 2
tug's
X x
oaks
LXURSIZIZ IN VQKAL JDIMNASTXKS.
Furst Lxursiz.
e
a
Ee
Aa
Oo
Aa
X x
LE
I i
I z
Qo
Oo
II u
Uu
Uu
Ocp
234
/
B b
D d
J J
Gg
Z z
V v
A 5
L 1
R r
Mm
N n
IJq
Ww
Yy
e? t
T t
C c
Kk
S s
F f
a
Hh
Qq
Go
80
Xx
22
VOK&L
Sekund
E a o a | x c | i x|o 8 o|u u u | (p. ||
Be ba bo ba | bx be | bi bx | bo bs bo | bu bu bu | bcp.||
De da do da | dx de | di dx | do ds do | dii du du | dcp.||
Ge ga go ga | gx gs | gi gx | go g8 go | gir gu gu | gcp.||
Ve va vo va
Ae 8a 80 8a
Ze za zo za
vx ve
ZX Z8
Vi VX | VO V8 VO
8i 8x | 80 8s 80
Zl ZX | ZO Z8 ZO
VII VU VU | VCp.||
8u 8u 8u | 8q>.||
zir zu zu | zcp.||
Je ja jo ja
JX J8
jl JX | JO J8 JO
F ju J u 1 J<P-II
Le la lo la
Ix le | li Ix | lo 18 lo
lir lu lu | lcp.||
Re ra ro ra
rx re
ri rx | ro r8 ro
rir ru ru | rqp.||
Me ma mo ma
mxme
mi mx|mtD ms mo
mil mu mu|mq>.||
Ne na no na
nxne
ni nx | no na no
nil nu nu | ncp.||
We wa wo wa
wxwe
wi WX| WO W8 WO
WIT WU Wu|wCp.||
Ye ya yo ya
yxys
yi yx j yo ys yo
yuyuyujycp.)!
Pe pa po pa | px ps | pi px | po p8 po
pu pu pu | pq>.||
Te ta to ta
tx te
ti tx | to ts to
tu tu tu | top. ||
Ce 6a 60 a | 6c 6s | 6i cx | 60 6s 60
6u <*u cu | c"(p.||
Ke ka ko ka
kxke
ki kx | ko ka ko
kir ku ku | kcp.||
Fe fa fo fa
fxfe
fi fx | fo fs fo
fij fu fu | %||
e da do da | dx de
di dx | do ds do
dir du du | dcp.||
Se sa so sa
sx se
si sx | so S8 so
sir su su | scp.||
Ce ca co ca
cx ce
ci cx | co cs co
CIJ CU CU | CCp.||
He ha ho ha | hx he | hi hx | ho hs ho
hii hu hu | h(p.||
Qe qa qo qa | qx qs | qi qx | qo qs qo | qu qu qu | q(p.||
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION
/ ^ /
CM &t> wzvm&n ifzem/
tuv-, en
twnt''n ov-
'<3//% ob /md a&4 fia-vz tiwn
v< 4cm /
G/t/z && aefcvta v
Q/& t
v
i-
THE END.
D2
EPITOME
HISTOKIJE SACEJ1,
ON
AN IMPROVED PLAN,
IN TWO VOLUMES:
THE FIRST CONTAINING THE ORIGINAL TEXT IN THE ENGLISH ORDER OF
CONSTRUCTION, WITH THE ELLIPTICAL SENTENCES RENDERED
PLENARY, WITH THE MARKS OF QUANTITY, AND OF
ACCENT, AND WITH A LITERAL INTER-
LINEAR TRANSLATION J
THE SECOND CONTAINING THE ORIGINAL TEXT SIMPLY, IN THE
LATIN ORDER OF CONSTRUCTION :
THE WHOLE
O PRESENTED THAT THE ACQUISITION OF THE LATIN IS NOT ONLY
&REATLY FACILITATED, BUT RENDERED MUCH MORE INTER-
ESTING THAN BY THE USUAL METHOD.
DESIGNED AS A PRIMARY BOOK.
syv^-w.
BY
ANDREW COMSTOCK, M.D.
FKINCIPAL OF THE VOCAL AND POLYGLOTT GYMNASIUM, AUTHOR OF
A SYSTEM OF ELOCUTION, ETC.
VOLUME I.
PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY E. H. BUTLER & CO.
1849.
EPITOME
HISTORIC SACRJ],
AD
METHODUM ORNATIOREM,
IN DUOBUS TOMIS:
PRIMO TBXTUM PRIMORDIUM IN ORDINE VERBALI ANGLICO CONSTRFCTTJJI
PERIODIS ELLIPTICTS IMPLETIS, FROSODLE ACCENTUSQUE SIGNIS
ADJUNCTIS, TRANSLATIONEMQUE INTERLINEAREM
AD LITERAM COMPREHENDENTE J
SECUNDO TEITUM PRIMORDITJM CONTINENTS SOLTJM, ORDIWK
LATINO RELATUM:
ITA PARATA AD ADEPTIONEM LATINJB LINGUA, NON SOLUM PACILIOR]
8ED ETIA.M GRATIOREM QUAM METHODO SOLITA, CONSTITUENDAM.
DESTINATA TIRONIBUS.
CURAVIT *
ANDEEAS COMSTOCK, M.D.
PRJBFECTUS GYMNASII VOCALIS ET POLYGLOTTI, AUCTO OPUU8
DE ELOCUTIONS, ETCETERA.
TOMUS II.
PHILADELPHIA:
EDIDIT E. H. BUTLER ET SO,
MDCCCXLY.
DR. COMSTOCK'S
VOCAL AND POLYGLOT! GYMNASIUM,
PHILADELPHIA.
THIS INSTITUTION is designed, not only for the CURE OF STAM-
MERING, and DEFECTIVE ARTICULATION, for INSTRUCTION IN ELO-
CUTION and the USUAL BRANCHES OF AN ENGLISH EDUCATION, but
for the acquisition of a thorough knowledge of the most important
ANCIENT AND MODERN LANGUAGES. The following Languages are
now taught :
1. LATIN, 6. GERMAN, 9. TURKISH?
2. ANCIENT GREEK, 6. SPANISH, 10. ARMENIAN,
3. MODERN GREEK, 7. GAELIC, 11. HEBREW,
4. FRENCH, 8. ITALIAN, 12. HINDOOSTANEE.
The method of instruction here pursued is, in the main, peculiar
to this Institution. Much of it is oral and practical. All the les-
sons, both in foreign languages, and in English, (not even excepting
English Grammar and Orthography) are first pronounced by the
teacher, and repeated by the pupil, till the latter understands the
true import, and the correct pronunciation and intonation of every
word. The pupil then prepares himself by silent study, or by
practising aloud in his room, for a thorough recitation. This me-
thod possesses several obvious advantages :
1. Knowledge is much more rapidly acquired.
2. As the pupil learns every thing correctly in the first instance,
he never has an thing to unlearn.
3. As the pupil understands the leading principles at the incep-
tive stage of each lesson, he is not dispirited, but rather encouraged.
In this Institution, particular attention is paid to PHILOLOGY.
The principal teacher in this department, not only composes readily
in English, French, Italian, Greek, and Turkish, but he converses
fluently in all these languages.
The method of teaching the Latin is that pursued in the Italian
Universities. By adopting this course the pupil is better prepared
to study the Italian and other languages derived from the Latin.
The Ancient Greek is taught according to the system adopted
in the University of Otho, at Athens. By this method both the
ancient and modern dialects are acquired at the same time. This
plan is now used in the Universities of Germany.
0)
fi VOCAL AND POLYGLOTT GYMNASIUM.
The method of teaching the French renders the study of it more
like pastime than labour. They who study this language are re-
quired to use it in their colloquial intercourse, both in the family
and in the school.
The Turkish is taught in the method followed by the Hodjas of
Stamboul that of oral exercises. The pupil is immediately ini-
tiated into the harmonic system of its suffixes, by which the words
are speedily memorized. No other language can be learned so
rapidly ; because the Turkish possesses a uniformity in its gramma-
tical structure, which facilitates its acquisition. This language,
which is enriched by words drawn ad libitum from the Arabic, and
the Persian, is founded on a regular system of declensions. It is
variegated by affixes to a greater extent than most other languages.
The different terminations convey delicate shades of thought. A
knowledge of this language prepares the pupil for the acquisition
of most of the spoken languages of Asia. The Turkish will not
fail to be a matter of curiosity to the lover of Oriental literature.
The school year commences on the first Thursday in September,
and terminates on the last Wednesday in June.
TERMS.
For instruction, with boarding, '. $400
Tickets per Course of 10 Weeks instruction, {without boarding)
in Classes,
For the Cure of Stammering, 15 lessons per week, . . . $50
In Elocution 6 lessons per week, ... 20
In Languages, 6 lessons per week, ... 20
In Elocution, 3 lessons per week, ... 10
In Languages, 3 lessons per week,. . . 10
O^Five Dollars per week additional if the pupil resides in the
family.
Tickets per Course for Private Instruction.
In Elocution, 36 lessons, $30
In Languages, 36 lessons, 30
The ticket in each case to be paid for in advance. Satisfactory
references will be given in the principal cities throughout the
Union.
O^rNo one can become a pupil in this Institution, who is not
cleanly in his person and habits, and gentlemanly in his deport-
ment
(No Member of the Institution is allowed to use Tobacco in
any form.)
Apply to ANDREW COMSTOCK, M. D., Principal
No. 100 Mulberry Street, Philadelphia.
COMSTOCK'S TABLE OF ELEMENTS.
A. TABLE OF THE ELEMENTS OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, to which are
prefixed Exercises in Pitch and Force. By Andrew Comstock, M. D.
No. 100 Mulberry street, Philadelphia. (Fourth Edition.) Published
by the Author.
DESCRIPTION. This Table is in the form of a map mounted on rollers.
It is four feet three inches in length, and two feet five inches in breadth.
It contains the Elements of the English Language, and the most import-
ant Exercises in Pitch and Force found in the Author's SYSTEM OF ELO-
CUTION. They are systematically arranged, and printed in characters
large enough to be read at the distance of forty or fifty feet. The chart
also contains forty-eight cuts, showing the best posture of the mouth in
the energetic utterance of the Elements. It is designed for the use of
colleges, schools, and private families. Price, $2.
REMARKS. The scholars in every school, and, indeed, the members of
every family, should practise daily the exercises which are delineated
upon this chart. Children, even before they learn the alphabet, should
be taught to utter the elements of the language with precision. The
practice of these exercises produces the following beneficial results :
1. It increases the strength and flexibility of all the muscles concerned
in the production and modification of vocal sound.
2. It enables the pupil, in reading, speaking, and singing, to articulate
perfectly.
3. It enables the pupil to give astonishing force and fullness to his
voice.
4. It extends the compass of the voice.
5. It improves the ear enabling the pupil not only to appreciate, in
the voices of others, but to execute with his own, the various modifica-
tions of pitch and force so important in the correct expression of oral
language.
6. It promotes the functions of the lungs, by expanding the chest, and
invigorating all the organs which constitute the respiratory apparatus.
During the exercise, a larger amount of atmospheric air is respired than
under ordinary circumstances ; hence the lungs are enabled more effect-
ually to pump, as it were, the deleterious carbon from the blood, and
return, in its stead, the vivifying oxygen.
. COMSTOCK has also published a Chart, (2 feet 9 inches in
length, and 2 feet 1 inch in breadth,) comprising a Perfect Alphabet of
the English Language, the corresponding Phonographic characters of
Pitman, and Exercises in Gesture.
(9)
COMSTOCK'S
SYSTEM OF ELOCUTION.
RECOMMENDATORY NOTICES.
Certificates from Professor Homer and Professor Hare
of the University of Pennsylvania.
HAVING been present on the 10th inst. at the exercises of the pupils in
Dr. Andrew Comstock's Gymnasium, for the improvement of the voice
and of the articulation in stamm y erers and others, the impression made
upon me was highly favourable to his method of instruction.
The system is founded upon an exact anatomical and physiological
information, in regard to the organs concerned in the production and
modification of sound. Its several parts appear to have been evolved
and matured upon a degree of thought and an extent of experiment
reflecting much credit upon his sagacity and industry; and it inspires
a very strong confidence of its applicability to the faults generally of
speech or phonation. One of his pupils, who only a week before the
occasion alluded to, had been a most unpleasant stammerer, was then
heard to recite publicly with great ease and fluency, with a full intona-
tion.
W. E. HORNER, M. D.
Professor of Anatomy in the University of Pennsylvania.
Philadelphia, Aug. 11, 1837.
PHILADELPHIA, Aug. 14th, 1837.
Having been present on the occasion alluded to in the preceding letter
of the Professor of Anatomy, I have no hesitation in alleging that my
impressions a consistent with those which my colleague has therein
expressed.
ROBERT HARE, M. D.
Professor of Chemistry in the University of Pennsylvania
From the United States Gazette.
CONGRESS HALL, Philad., Nov. 25, 1837.
ANDREW COMSTOCK, M. D.
Dear Sir, Before leaving your city, allow me to express to you the
perfect satisfaction I feel, in witnessing the progress which ray son hu
made in Elocution under your instruction.
The habit of stammering which commenced with his early efforts to
speak, and which thirteen years (his present age) seemed only to con
firm, is now, with six weeks instruction, completely eradicated.
Though delighted beyond expression in this result, I am not disap*
pointed. From the moment I became acquainted with your method of
instruction, I did not doubt its entire success. Founded on scientific
principles, it must succeed in all cases where there is no malformation
of the organs of speech.
You have reduced to a system what before was but imperfectly un-
derstood, and done most essential service to mankind in elevating a
numerous class of unfortunate fellow-beings, and saved them from the
impositions of ignorant and unprincipled empirics.
Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
E. PIERCE, M. D., of Athens, N.
Y.
From the Rev. Thomas B. Bradford.
PHILADELPHIA, April 4, 1842.
I take great pleasure in recommending Dr. Comstock's SYSTEM OF
ELOCUTION. A practical acquaintance with the system, and with the
instructions of its author, enables me to speak with confidence of the
high superiority of this treatise, and of the ample qualifications of its
author as an instructor in the art of speaking.
His course of instruction is exactly adapted to the cure of stammerers;
and my personal knowledge of the cure of those who have been thus
afflicted, warrants me in particularly recommending such individuals to
place themselves under the tuition of Dr. Comstock.
T. B. BRADFORD.
From E. C. Wines, A. M., late Professor of Moral, Mental,
and Political Science in the Central High School of
Philadelphia.
PHILADELPHIA, Oct. 22d, 1842.
I take pleasure in stating that Dr. A. Comstock taught Elocution in
my school during the whole of last year, and that his SYSTEM OF ELOCU-
TION was used as a text-book. I consider it a work of very great merit,
admirably adapted to the end for which it was designed. The principles
of the science are laid down with clearness and ability in the First Part ;
and the selections for practice in the Second Part are made with excel-
lent judgment. It is a work every way worthy of the public patronage.
The progress of the pupils in my school under Dr. Comstock's in-
struction was altogether satisfactory. He fully sustained his high repu-
tation as a teacher of practical elocution.
E. C. WINES.
From S. W. Crawford, A. M., Principal of the Academy
connected with the University of Pennsylvania.
I have examined Dr. Comstock's ELOCUTION, and agree with Mr.
Wines in the above recommendation.
& W, CRAWFORD
3
We always thought Dr. Comstock's system for the cure of Stammer-
ing a sealed book, because it was so certain ; he has, however, in the
plenitude of his benevolence, and for a small consideration, surrendered
his knowledge and experience for the more general benefit of the world.
He has here collected and widely diffused all that he has heretofore pub-
lished upon this subject, and by well-executed plates illustrated what is
not, as well as what is correct in gesture, &.C., for which we doubt not
the heads of our public schools will be duly grateful, as affording them
facilities and suggestions in a very important branch of education,
which they could not before command.
The eminent success of Dr. C. in his practical teachings, is the only
commendation the present work can require, and we understand its
merits are fully appreciated, if we are to judge from an extensive de-
mand by several of our most distinguished Professors.
We may also remark, that the work is enriched by numerous selec-
tions from the writings of the most celebrated authors, to be spoken in
the elocutionary exercises, with marks indicating the proper time of
emphasis. Saturday Courier, Philadelphia, Dec. 11, 1841.
A good system for breaking up the stiff jaws of a speaker, and round-
ing the sharp angles in his uncouth gestures two embarrassments
under which many labour, and which few thoroughly overcome. We
may laugh at Dr. Comstock's mouths and gestures as much as we
please, but it is only by such mouths and gestures that one becomes a
graceful speaker. North American, Philadelphia, Dec. 11, 1841.
Dr. Comstock has devoted many years sedulously to the study of
Elocution, not merely as a declamatory art, but as a science compre-
hending all the phenomena of the voice, and the means by which it may
be most successfully cultivated for all the purposes of speaking. We
have examined, with some attention, the first part of Dr. Comstock's
book, and find that in treating of elementary sounds, he advances pre-
cepts evincing an intelligent analysis of vocal utterance, a subject very
lightly passed over in ordinary text-books upon Elocution. The whole
subject of the book appears to have been digested with equal knowledge
and care, and we would commend to teachers the adoption of his sys-
tem, as based upon a true comprehension of the powers and uses of the
organs of speech, and the modes of graceful and appropriate action in
oratorical exercises. Various plates illustrate the text, and enable intel-
ligent readers to apprehend the principles of oral delivery and gesture
without the aid of a special preceptor.
National Gazette, Philadelphia, Dec. 13, 1841.
The experience of Dr. Comstock as a Professor of Elocution, and his
eminent success in the cure of stammering afid other defects of speech,
as well as the warm commendations of gentlemen in whose judgment
the utmost reliance may be placed, justify us in recommending this
work to all who are desirous of acquiring the art of reading or speaking
with ease, grace and power.
American Sentinel, Philadelphia, Dec. 13, 1841.
We have found time to look with some care into Dr. Comstook's text
book, and have been led to admire the plan and general execution. The
author has brought to his subject a willing mind, " and long experience
makes him sage."
Numerous pieces of great strength, are illustrated for gesticulation,
by engravings that are well executed, and which give a very correct
idea to the reader of the motions to be used in an open, free reading cf
the speech.
The remarks and notation of the compiler are excellent, and give, so
far as we could examine, a correct view of the pauses, volume of voice,
and accentuation.
We commend Dr. Comstock's volume to the consideration of teachers
and of learners. United States Gazette, Philadelphia, Dec. 14, 1841.
We have a distinct recollection of a tall, smiling gentleman, who,
when we were a white-pated shaver going to school, used to come tri-
weekly to the academy, and standing up duly before us, make us ges-
ticulate, pronounce, read, and deliver speeches until we thought our arms
would be jerked from their sockets, or that our lungs at least would give
way. But we are living still, and so is our smiling friend Dr. Com-
Btock. He has turned author too, and our table even now bears witness
to that fact, in the presence of an admirable treatise on elocution by our
former teacher.
No man, perhaps, in the United States understands so well how to
cure stammering as Dr. Comstock. His success in this department has
been almost miraculous. Yet he does not seek to hide his secret " un-
der a bushel," but, with true benevolence, has made it public in the
work before us. The volume also treats generally of elocution, gesticu-
lation, &c. fec., and should be the study of every one desirous of be-
coming an orator, or even of reading well. The work is illustrated by
numerous figures, displaying every position to be assumed in pronoun-
cing a speech. Indeed, we have never seen a more complete treatise
of the kind, and we cordially recommend it to parents, teachers, and
others, as a work especially deserving support. Next to the privilege
of being a pupil of the doctor is the privilege of purchasing his book.
Saturday Evening Post, Philadelphia, Dec. 18, 1841.
The system of Dr. Comstock is peculiar, and we cannot speak intel-
ligently on it, because it cannot be understood without a study, which
we are unable to give to it. We can however say, that it appears to us
to be founded on philosophical principles, and to be exceedingly well
illustrated in parts which we readily comprehend. Dr. Comstock is not
a mere theorist ; he is eminently a practical man, and in the application
of his principles he has been very successful in developing the powers
of elocution, and in the cure of defective exercise of the organs of speech
Presbyterian, Philadelphia, Dec. 18, 1841.
This work contains some new and plausible principles, and it is em-
bellished by numerous diagrams and engraved figures, illustrative of
the subject. We have never seen a work of this kind published in a
more elegant manner. Philadelphia Gazette, Dec. 21, 1841
This is one of the most elaborate works on Elocution ever published
in our country, containing the results of much study and attention to
the subject, and a thorough acquaintance with the philosophy of the
human voice. Its several parts are systematically arranged and its
rules are illustrated to the eye by numerous diagrams. It is well adapt-
ed to meet the wants of schools and colleges as well as to direct private
individuals, who would improve themselves in reading and speaking.
Christian Observer, Philadelphia, Jan. 7, 1842.
The politeness of the author has placed before us his " SYSTEM OF
ELOCUTION," but from a hurried glance at its contents, we are not able
to say as much for it as its merits demand ; however we have seen suffi-
cient to be enabled to recommend it particularly to the heads of families
and schools, who cannot fail to find it an invaluable auxiliary in the
various subjects of which it treats. Its divisions comprise Elocution,
Vocal Gymnastics, Gesture, Practical Elocution, being exercises in arti-
culation, pitch, force, time and gesture, and exercises in reading and
declamation. The engravings are exceedingly numerous, and admira-
bly adapted to the purposes for which they are designed.
Catholic Herald, Philadelphia, Jan. 20, 1842.
Dr. Comstock has been long and favourably known in this city, and
elsewhere, as a distinguished and successful teacher of Elocution. His
system views that important, yet so sadly neglected, branch of education,
as both a science and an art. His principles are founded on truth and
nature, and in their practical application he is evidently master of his
subject. Friends, in whose judgment we place reliance, speak of him
as a teacher in terms of high commendation. The work we have just
noticed is a new edition, with special reference to gesture, to the treat-
ment of stammering, and defective articulation ; comprising numerous
diagrams and engraved figures, illustrative of the subject.
Banner of the Cross, Philadelphia, Feb. 5, 1842.
COMSTOCK'S SYSTEM OF ELOCUTION, for sale by S. S. & W. Wood.
This is a most excellent book, containing a system of elocution, with
special reference to gesture. It has a great number of cuts, descriptive
of the plan, and is admirably calculated for the learner. It ought to be
made a school-book, and be in the possession of every seminary.
New York Express, March 2, 1842.
Philadelphia, Dec. 10, 1841
Dr. A. COMSTOCK, )
Philadelphia. $
Dear Sir I am much obliged to you for the copy which you were
o kind as to send me of your "System of Elocution" I find youi
book admirably adapted to the object for which it is intended.
I am very respectfully, Dear Sir,
your obedient servant,
CHARLES PICOT.
6
From the Rev. Thomas B. Bradford.
PHILADELPHIA, April 4, 1842.
I take great pleasure in recommending Dr. Comstock's SYSTEM c*
ELOCUTION. A practical acquaintance with the system, and with the
instructions of its author, enables me to speak with confidence of the
high superiority of this treatise, and of the ample qualifications of its
author as an instructor in the art of speaking.
His course of instruction is exactly adapted to the cure of stammerers
and my personal knowledge of the cure of those who have been thus
afflicted, warrants me in particularly recommending such individuals to
place themselves under the tuition of Dr. Comstock.
T. B. BRADFORD.
From E. C. Wines, A.M., late Professor of Moral, Mental,
and Political Science in the Central High School of
Philadelphia.
PHILADELPHIA, Oct. 22d, 1842.
I take pleasure in stating that Dr. A. Comstock taught Elocution in
my school during the whole of last year, and that his SYSTEM OF ELOCU-
TION was used as a text-book. I consider it a work of very great merit,
admirably adapted to the end for which it was designed. The principles
of the science are laid down with clearness and ability in the First Part ;
and the selections for practice in the Second Part are made with excel-
lent judgment. It is a work every way worthy of the public patronage.
The progress of the pupils in my school under Dr. Comstock's in-
struction was altogether satisfactory. He fully sustained his high repu-
tation as a teacher of practical elocution.
E. C. WINES.
From S. W. Crawford, A. M., Principal of the Academy
connected with the University of Pennsylvania.
I have examined Dr. Comstock's ELOCUTION, and agree with Mr.
Wines in the above recommendation.
S. W. CRAWFORD.
From the Pennsylvania Law Journal, Dec. 10, 1842.
We acknowledge the receipt of a copy of this valuable work ; and
although a treatise on elocution cannot be regarded as a law-book, the
subject of vocal delivery is so nearly connected with the practice of the
law, that we willingly accord to this volume a notice in our Journal.
Doctor Comstock has been long known to both the editors as a suc-
cessful teacher of the subjects treated in his book. He has, perhaps,
paid greater and more intelligent attention to defects of articulation, and
to the cure of them, than any other person in the United Stales. And
while certificates from Professor W. E. Homer, and other members of
Ihe Faculty, attest that Dr. Cotnstock's " System is founded upon an
exact anatomical and physiological information in regard to the organs
concerned in the production and modification of sound," numberless
testimonials from pupils residing in every part of the Union, show that
he has been equally successful in the more rare, though not less im-
portant part of the teacher's office ; we mean, imparting his science
with practical effect. A long and intimate acquaintance with the Dr.
enables the editors to vouch for the truth of what is thus attested, and
yet more, to, bear a ready testimonial to Dr. Comstock's merits as an
amiable, gentlemanly, and conscientious man.
We have, indeed, often lamented the gross, and, to an ear of any
susceptibility, the distressing inattention to delivery so generally pre-
valent in the pulpits and at the bar, in this country. How surprising,
in this day of almost universal accomplishment, that in professions
\\hose common object is persuasion through the medium of the voice,
the management of " this mighty instrument for touching the heart of
man," should be so much disregarded ! should be treated in one pro-
fession as useless, in the other as almost impious !
How many a DIVINE, whose sermon was replete with learning, with
piety, with all the refinements of graceful composition, has sent away a
ready (perhaps an anxious) hearer, disgusted with the unimpressive,
nay, sometimes the sickening manner in which the preacher's senti-
ments were delivered ! while a Maffet or a Kirk is followed by thou
sands whose slumbering sensibilities are first awakened to the majesty
of the gospel truth, by the commanding power of in impressive voice !
How many a JURY has thought a speaker's argument without force,
because his manner was so; and have found a verdict against law and
against evidence, because they had been charmed into delusion by the
potent fascination of some gifted orator!
Who, indeed, that has listened to the ennobled voice of Kemble, to
the chastened recitation of a Wood, to the air-dropt accents of Mrs.
Seymour, or the sternly pleasing power of Ellen Tree ; who, that seek-
ing a better school, may have hearkened to the unsurpassed discourses
of a Wainwright, rising, now, to fervour almost apostolic, sometimes
sinking into gentleness unearthly, has not acknowledged the power of
educated tone to awaken an eloquent response from the chords of human
feeling ? Who has not felt, on such occasion, " that when, in connection
with a more careful culture of our moral being, the voice shall be trained
to a more perfect manifestation of its powers, a charm, hitherto unfelt,
will be lent to the graceful pleasures of life, and an influence of almost
untried efficacy to its serious occasions !"
Let, then, our preachers leave the towering heights of their divinity,
and strive to present its humbler truths in more graceful garb. Let our
lawyers, not neglecting the weightier matters of the law, attend to
those embellishments of argument which, with half our race, often prove
more effective than argument itself.
The Author acknowledges the receipt of a recommendation from J.
E. MVRDOCH, Esq., the well-known elocutionist of Boston ; arid he regrets
that want of room prevents its insertion here. Mr. Murdoch has adopted
the work as a text-book in his VOCAL AND ATHLETIC INSTITUTE.
8
From the Rev. Henry W. Ducachet, M. D., D. D
PHILADELPHIA, June 26th, 1843.
ANDREW COMSTOCK, M. D.
Dear Sir I have very carefully read the " SYSTEM OF ELOCUTION,'
&c. published by you. Indeed, ever since I have become acquainted
with the work, I have made it a book of reference on that subject. It
seems to rne admirably well adapted to the purposes for which it is de-
signed. I have, indeed, no experience in the treatment of" stammering,''
or "defective articulation." But vour rules for their cure appear very
natural, and I think cannot fail, in ordinary cases, to be successful. For
myself, I can say that I have derived from your work, some hints that
have been most useful to rne as a public speaker. I hope the book will
be appreciated as it deserves, and that you will go on to reap a rich har-
vest of reputation and profit from your valuable labours in that much
neglected, but very important art.
Very respectfully, your ob't serv't,
HENRY W. DUCACHET,
Rector of St. Stephen's Church, Philadelphia.
From G. W. Francis, A.M., Principal of a Family Board-
ing School, Troy^ N. Y. ; and C. H. Anthony, Esq.,
Principal of the Albany Classical Institute, Albany,
N. Y.
We have used Dr. Comstock's SYSTEM OP ELOCUTION for some time in
ur schools, and we do not hesitate to give it the preference to any system
tvith which we are acquainted.
G. W. FRANCIS.
C. H. ANTHONY.
Troy, N. Y., Feb. 3d, 1844,
From the Faculty of the University of Michigan.
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN, APRIL 20, 1845.
We have examined Dr. Comstock's System of Elocution with some
care, and we are fully persuaded that it is better adapted to assist
pupils in acquiring a correct, easy and forcible enunciation than any
other work with which we are acquainted.
JOSEPH WHITING, A. M.
Professor of Languages.
A. TEN BROOK, A. M.
Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy
GEO. P. WILLIAMS, A. M.
Professor of Mathematics
O. C. COMSTOCK, A. M., M. D.
Super In ten cfanl of Public Instruction, slichigan.
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("THB POET ABTIST.")
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Mrs. Odkes Smith, Mrs, Sigourney, Mrs. Osgood, Mrs. Embury, Mrs. Met, Mrt.
Hale, Mrs. Welby, Miss Lynch, Mrs. Kinney, and Grace Greenwood,
and three splendid illuminations by Devere<AX.
Elegantly bound In Turkey Morocco, panelled sides, 6.75; muslin, gilt and gflt
edges, $5.62; 1 vol. imperial 8vo.
Rogers's Complete Poetical Works.
THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OP SAMUEL ROGERS, 1 vol. 8vo.
SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED WITH THIRTEEN LINE ENGRAVINGS,
EXECUTED EXPRESSLY FOB THIS WORK,
And by a Portrait in "Stipple" by Anderton, from a Painting by
BIB. THOMAS LAWRENCE.
Bound in Turkey Morocco, panelled sides, $4.50 ; muslin, gilt and gilt edge*,
$3.75 ; 1 vol. 8vo.
Campbell's 'Poetical Works.
The Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Camptell, 1 voL 8vo.
SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED
With thirteen line Engravings, executed expressly for this Work,
AND BY A PORTRAIT IN "STIPPLE" BY ANDERTON, FROM A PAINTING BY
SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE.
Bound in Turkey Morocco, panelled sides, $4.50 ; muslin, gilt & girt edges, $3.75.
"Edith lay's" Poetical Works.
THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS OF "EDITH MAY," 1vol. 8vo.
JSSplentittJljJ Illustrated fcntf) ten line lEnjjrafctnjjs,
EXECUTED IN LONDON EXPRESSLY FOR THIS WORK, FROM ORIGINAL
DESIGNS BY DETEREUX,
And a Portrait in line by Cheney, from an original drawng by Furness.
Bound in Turkey Morocco, panelled sides, $4.50; muslin, gilt & gilt edges, $3.76.
The Proverbialist and the Poet.
PROVERBS ILLUSTRATED BY PARALLEL OR RELATIVE PASSAGES FROM
THE FOETS.
2b which are added Proverbs from the Latin, French, Spanish, and Italian, ?**
translations and a copious Index of Subjects.
BY JAMES ORTON, ESQ.
fEIegantls Illustrated fottf) Illuminations anti ISngrabinss. t 6ol. 860.
Bound in Turkey Morocco, panelled sides, $4.50; muslin, gilt & gilt edges, $8.71.
Cabinet of Modern Art;
A COLLECTION OP TWENTY-FIVE SUBJECTS FROM MODERN MASTERS,
Engraved in the highest style of mezzotint.
Illustrated by appropriate Articles in Prose and Verse,
NEW (SECOND) EDITION. 1 vol. 8vo.
Bound In Turkey Morocco, panelled sides, $4.50 ; muslin, gilt & gilt edges, $3. - 6.
Cabinet of Modern Art. New Series.
A COLLECTION OP TWENTY-FIVE SUBJECTS FROM MODERN MASTERS, ENGRAVED IN THH
HIGHEST STYLE OF MEZZOTINT,
IHustratrtJ 63 appropriate articles in $rojse atrti Ferse.
This second series, or volume of the Cabinet is entirely different in illustrations
and letter press from the first series, or volume. 1 vol. 8vo.
Bound in Turkey Morocco, panelled sides, $4.50 ; muslin, gilt sides & edges $3.75.
Tuppefs Proverbial Philosophy.
SMALL QUARTO.
PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY; A BOOK OF THOUGHTS AND ARGUMENTS,
ORIGINALLY TREATED.
BY MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER, D, C, L,, F, R. S.
Revised and authorized edition ; newly and splendidly illustrated wiilt sixteen
engravings. 1 vol. small quarto.
Bound in Turkey Morocco, panelled sides, $5.25 ; muslin, gilt sides & wlgt-s. $4.50.
Tupper's Proverbial Philosophy.
DUODECIMO.
PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY: A BOOK OF THOUGHTS AND ARGUMRNTS
ORIGINALLY TREATED.
33g iHarttn JFarqu*jar STupper, 13. C. H., JT. S. &.
Revised and authorized edition, splendidly illustrated with twelve engravings ; t
which is added an Essay on the Philosophy of Proverbs,
BY JAMES ORTON, ESQ. 1 Vol. 12mO.
Bound in Turkey Morocco gilt, $2.62; muslin, gUt and gilt sides, $2.06.
Topper's Poetical Works.
TUPPER'S POETICAL WORKS AUTHORIZED EDITION.
Ballads for the Times, A Thousand Lines, Hactenus, Geraldine, and other Poem*.
BY MARTIN FARQUHAR TUPPER, D. C. L., F. R. 8.
To which is added a biographical sketch of the Author, by Wittiam Anderson, Esq^
author of "Landscape Lyrics." Illustrated with elegant engravings. 1 vol. 12mo.
Bound in Turkey Morocco, gilt & gilt edge, $2.62; muslin, gilt & gilt edges, $2.0&
Leaflets of Memory.
AN ILLUMINATED ANNUAL FOR 1852. EDITED BY RETNELL COATES, M. D.
Illustrated with four illuminations by Devereux in the first style, of Ohromo-Litho*
graphy, and eight elegant engravings from the first masters, and splendidly
bound in Turkey Morocco, or white calf, panelled sides, gilt <&gilt edges. Price $6.00.
This 8th volume of the series will exceed in beauty either of its predecessors.
The Snow Flake.
A Christmas and New Tear's Present for 1852.
Elegantly illustrated with nine new and splendid engravings by Walter, and bound
in Arabesque or Turkey Morocco, giU and gilt edges. Price : Arabesque
Morocco, $1.88; Turkey Morocco, $2.44.
Friendship's Offering.
THIRTEENTH TEAR.
A CHRISTMAS, NEW TEAR, AND BIRTH-DAT GOT FOR 18SI
Elegantly illustrated with nine new and splendid engravings oy Sartain,
And bound in Arabesque or Turkey Morocco, gilt and gilt edges. Price: Ara-
besque Morocco, $1.88 ; Turkey Morocco, $2.44.
Christmas Blossoms
AND NEW TEAR'S WREATH FOR 1852 ; (A Juvenile Grift.)
Elegantly illustrated with six new ar*d splendid engravings by Sartain, and bound
in a beautiful style, richly gilt. Price $1.25.
7 1 3 1 8
U. C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES
