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the figures which follow, and the remarks subjoined to them, they are exhibited and fully explained.

1. THE SWEEPS.

Both Accentual and Emphatic sweeps are the effects of a greater force of voice applied to one syllable of a word in comparison with another, or to one word of a sentence in comparison with other words. To prepare for this application of greater force, the voice rises above the key to the syllable or word accented or emphasized; and as the result of this application the voice is carried below the key, and again back to it. The first of these movements is called the upper sweep: the second, the lower.

Accentual sweeps of course precede and follow the accents primary and secondary. Their constant recurrence, in the delivery of successive words, at intervals varying with the number of unaccented syllables between the accents, produces those slight undulations or waves of the voice which may be observed in the following fragment of a sentence, if read without emphasis: Yet because of his importunity, he will rise and give him as many as he needeth.” (See Plate, fig. 1.)

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Such being the effect of accent, the monotone of which some, if not all works of elocution, speak, has therefore no existence. Accordingly I dispense with it in this work; and when I have occasion to speak of the delivery of a sentence with no other variations of the voice than those produced by accent, I say, "delivered with accentual sweeps."

The emphatic sweeps, unlike the accentual, are not limited to a part of a word, or even to an entire word; but sometimes extend over the half of a sentence. The superior sweep precedes, and the inferior follows, the primary accent of the word on which emphasis is placed. (See Plate, fig. 2, e. f.)

Emphasis frequently falls on a word in such a position as renders the prolongation of the upper and lower sweep, for the want of room, impossible. In this case, they are formed on the emphatic word alone, though a word of one syllable; and they are then called by Dr. Porter and other writers on elocution, the circumflex. (See Plate, fig. 2, a.) As this term is a convenient one, I shall continue to use it: it being understood, however, that I mean by it nothing more than the greatest condensation of the emphatic sweeps. What I have to say additionally on these sweeps, I reserve until I shall have reached the subject of emphasis.

2. THE BEND.

The bend is represented by the acute accent of the Greek, thus:' It indicates a slight turn of the voice upward at a pause of imperfect sense.

Examples.

If there be any consolation in Christ', any comfort of love',

any fellowship of the spirit', any bowels and mercies', fulfil ye my joy.

The trials of wandering and exile', of the ocean, the winter, the wilderness and the savage foe', were the final assurances of

success.

3. THE SLIDES.

1. The upward slide,
2. The downward slide,
3. The waving slide,

4. The double slide,

marked thus:

{

1. The upward slide carries the voice upward through a succession of tones, and suspends it at the highest. (See Plate, fig. 3.)

Examples.

Did Paul make a worse preacher for being brought up at the feet of Gamaliel? Does God uniformly work in one way? Has he never employed talents usefully?

2. The downward slide reverses the upward: carrying the voice downward through a succession of tones, and suspending it at the lowest. (See Plate, fig. 4.)

Examples.

Who possessed more advantages or more eloquence than the apostle whose words are alluded to in the objection!

To whom do we owe it, under an allwise Providence, that this nation so miraculously born, is now contributing with such effect to the welfare of the human family, by aiding the march of mental and moral improvement, and giving an example to the nations of the earth f

3. The waving slide does not differ essentially from a very full development of the two emphatic sweeps: the voice rising above the level of the sentence from the beginning, to descend upon the emphatic word, pass below the level of the sentence, and return to it or above it at the end. (See Plate, fig. 2, e. f.)

Examples.

You will ride to town to-day!
You will ride to town to-day
You will ride to town to-day f

You will ride to town to-day!

4. The double slide carries the voice upward, as in the first slide, and then downward, as in the second. The disjunctive conjunction or, which is always present in questions of this kind, forms

the point at which the one ends, and the other begins. (See Plate, fig. 5, a, b, c.)

Barabbas, or Jesus!

Examples.

Is it lawful to give tribute unto Cæsar, or not!

Shall we call him a patriot, or shall we stigmatize him as a traitor !

4. THE CLOSES.

I substitute this word for cadences, because the latter is not sufficiently general, and suggests that sentences terminate like a piece of music. This indeed was the theory of Walker, a theory in an unfortunate moment endorsed by Porter; but it is a theory, notwithstanding, which has no foundation in facts: sentences terminate in a variety of ways; and even the same sentence has not always the same close.

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1. The partial close* is a descent or fall of the voice at the end of one of the parts of a compound sentence to the key, or to a point near the key, preparatory to the perfect close. It is represented by the grave accent of the Greeks.

2. The perfect close is a descent or fall of the voice, at the end of a sentence, quite down to the key or to a point below it. It is represented by the period.

Examples of both in connection.

The faults opposed to the sublime are chiefly two': the frigid and the bombast.

Before closing this, I wish to make one observation': I shall make it once for all.

For instance: if I am speaking of virtue, in the course of ordinary conversation, I refer the word to no sex or gender; I say, "Virtue is its own reward';" or, "It is the law of nature."

Among similes, faulty through too great obviousness of the likeness, we must likewise rank those which are taken from objects become trite and familiar in poetical language. Such is the simile of a hero to a lion'; of a person in sorrow to a flower drooping its head'; of a violent passion to a tempest'; of chastity to snow'; of virtue to the sun or stars'; and many others of the same kind.

The closes are incidents exclusively of declarative sentences; (see Classification, Definition of a Decl. Sent. ;) and they have their characteristic delivery, only, at the end of such sentences or the parts of such sentences, when the last word is under emphasis; which is com

This is the falling inflexion of other writers on elocution. It is treated by them as the reverse of the rising inflexion or bend. If this were just, the voice ought simply to turn down, as in the bend it turns up; whereas it falls down, and is always preparatory to perfect close.

monly the case. (See Emphasis, Sect. II. iv.) When the emphatic word is not the last, the characteristic delivery of the closes is modified. (See Emphasis, Sect. II. v. vi.)

I have observed some faults in the delivery of the closes which the student should correct, if subject to them, or any one of them, at any cost of time and labor.

1. The sentence is sometimes terminated with a continuation of voice on the usual level, instead of a fall. This is not often the case, yet it occurs.

2. When the voice falls at the end, the fall is equivocal, not decisive: the voice turns downward, but as if with the design of rising again.

3. Occasionally I have met with the habit of uniformly placing strong emphasis on the penultimate or antepenultimate word of a sentence, and then rushing from that point, as if down a declivity to the end of the sentence.

4. I have frequently met with the habit of falling unnaturally deep: especially from a high, artificial key.

The proper delivery may be acquired by answering yes and no, to definite interrogative sentences; and then substitute the equivalent of the yes or no, and deliver the last word in precisely the same manner: being careful to deliver the whole sentence either on a level or rising to the last word. E. g. Will you ride to town to-day? Yes. Will you ride to town to-day? I will ride to town to-day.

III. FORCE.

When a person, reading or speaking, is requested to read or speak louder, he can, without rising in tone, and simply by a slight additional exertion, so increase the volume of his voice, that any one within a reasonable distance, and not deaf, may hear distinctly and with ease.

This increase of volume, without change of tone, is an increase of force; which may be varied by those who have powerful vocal organs, from a whisper to the awful reverberations of thunder.

I need scarcely say that the judicious management of force, is a distinct and important addition to that variety which renders good reading and speaking so singularly attractive to all classes of hearers.

Some passages, of course, should be delivered with a greater degree of force than others. When these occur, the student must be governed in their delivery by the relative importance of the thought, or the nature of the sentiment or passion expressed. I know of no other rule for the management of force in such cases.

In a general view, however, when we have regard to the tenor of an entire discourse, we should never employ a greater degree of force than may be necessary to be easily and distinctly heard; which may be ascertained without difficulty by observing the movements of the more distant auditors.

The reasons for this rule are the following:

1. To speak with more force than is necessary to be distinctly and easily heard by the remoter part of the audience, is to incur the hazard of speaking too forcibly or loud for those hearers who are near; which has an unhappy effect.

2. To use a degree of force much greater than that of animated conversation, (and greater than this is scarcely ever necessary in reading and speaking to common audiences,) is what the organs of speech are not accustomed to, and is therefore fatiguing, and not easily sustained.

3. The continued use of an unusual degree of force, destroys the flexibility of the voice, and is one of the principal causes of monotony.

4. But the main reason for employing, in the tenor of discourse, no more force than may be requisite for the purpose specified in the rule, is, that the reader or speaker may have a reserve for use, when the nature of the thought or sentiment or passion expressed in particular passages, calls for an increase of volume and power. For such emergencies, he whose delivery is uniformly loud and vociferous, is never prepared. Additional force will hardly be remarked; or if it attract observation, the only effect produced will be to augment the dissat isfaction with which the speaker is heard.

We should be careful not to confound force with vivacity. Force is strength, energy: vi vacity is life, animation. Force has respect to the hearer: vivacity, to the subject. A certain degree of force is always necessary from the beginning of a discourse to the end: vivacity, on the other hand, in some parts of a discourse, as in an introduction, would be out of place; and in others, as in passages highly charged with the benevolent affections, (love, sympathy, compassion, &c.,) incompatible with just delivery. Force to the verge of vocifera tion, especially if uniform, may be associated with dulness: vivacity, never; and yet here may be great vivacity in speakers who have little force. I think I have observed nume: ous examples of this.

But the most important distinction between them remains to be noticed. Force is under the control of the will; and is measured and regulated by the judgment: vivacity depends upon the feelings, and their susceptibility of excitement from the progress of discussion. The one is, therefore, voluntary: the other, involuntary. A speaker can command force at any time: but vivacity, if it comes at all, comes without being summoned or solicited. It appears only, when the speaker begins to be interested in his subject; and as this penetrates and warms and absorbs him, it grows apace, independently both of judgment and volition.

The practical bearing of this distinction is obvious. Vivacity, though an essential element of fine elocution, is subject to no rules. All that can be said, is, that if we would have it, we must appreciate and profoundly feel what we read or speak: enter into its spirit: identify ourselves with it: yield ourselves up unreservedly to its influence. When we do this, vivacity will not be wanting.

DIRECTIONS FOR EXERCISE ON FORCE.

Select a sentence, (as under Key,) and deliver it on a given key with voice just sufficient to be distinctly heard: then increase the quantity, and continue to increase it, until the whole power of the voice is brought into play. When this shall have been done, reverse the process: ending with a whisper. Observe: the sentence must be delivered without change of key. The same exercise may be repeated on different keys, and should be; but during the process of increasing or diminishing force, the same key should be firmly held, and the sentence delivered with the same series of tones. The tendency of this exercise, which cannot be too frequently repeated, is to strengthen the voice, and give command of it, at the extremes of little force and great.

The faults particularly worthy of attention under the head of force, (apart from uniformly too much or too little, causing a perpetual, monotonous din painful to the ear, on the one hand; or constant and uncomfortable exertion on the part of the audience to hear, on the other,) are two.

1. One of these is the exceedingly vicious habit of beginning every sentence successively with great force, and gradually diminishing, until, by the time the end is reached, the speaker is scarcely intelligible. Such a delivery is rarely requisite to the proper utterance of any sentence. Almost universally, at least as much force is necessary at the end as at the beginning; and not seldom more.

2. Another fault is the abrupt employment of force. The speaker is perhaps addressing his audience in a low tone of voice, when suddenly he breaks out with all the force of his lungs : giving them a shock which almost drives them from their seats. This is altogether wrong. Every increase of force should be gradual. It is seldom that men fly suddenly from repose, to the most strenuous exertion. Such violent changes of force are therefore unnatural. Occasions may, indeed, occur on which they are necessary; but rarely beyond the limits of the drama.

IV. RATE.

Rate in particular passages, like force, must necessarily vary with the nature of the thought, the sentiment, and the emotion. It should not, however, be so slow that the audience may anticipate what we are about to say, nor so fast that we cease to articulate distinctly. In neither case will we be heard with any satisfaction; though the second is the greater fault. We may be slow and yet

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