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emotions; in pity, tenderness, and sorrow; and in acute pain, grief and fear.

The middle pitch is that of ordinary conversation, and is required in unemotional reading.

The pitch becomes lower in proportion to the gravity or solem. nity of a passage.

I. High Pitch.
1. The wind, one morning, sprang up from sleep,

Saying, “Now for a frölic! now for a lèap !
Now for a madcap galloping chase!
I'll make a commotion in èvery place!”

2. Iò, they còme, they còme,

Garlands for every shrine,
Strike lyres to greet them hòme,

Bring ròses, pour ye wine!

Swell, swell the Dorian fùte

Through the blue triumphal sky,
Let the cìthron's tone salute

The sons of vìctory!

3. Oh! then, I see Queen Màb hath been with you.

She comes,
In shape no bigger than an àgate-stone
On the forefinger of an àlderman,
Drawn by a team of little atomies
Athwart men's nòses, as they lie asleep;
Her wagon-spokes made of long spinner's legs;
The cover, of the wings of gràsshoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams :
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her wagoner, a smalı gray-coated gnàt:
Her chariot is an empty hàzel-nut,
Made by the joiner Squirrel, or old Grub,
Time out o’ mìnd the fairies' còachmakers.

4. On, son of Cimon, bravely on, and Aristides just! Your names have made the field your own, your foes are

in the dust!

5. Hurrah for the sèa! the all-glorious sèa!

Its might is so wondrous, its spirit so free!
And its billows beat time to each pulse of my soul,
Which, impàtient, like them, cannot yield to control.

II. Middle Pitch. 1. A blind man would know that one was a gentleman and the other a clown by the tones of their voices.

2. A cobbler at Leyden, who used to attend the public disputations held at the academy, was once asked if he understood Làtin. Nò,” replied the mechanic, “but I know who is wrong in the argument." "How?" inquired his friend. "Why, by seeing who is angry first.”

3. There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at its flood, leads on to fòrtune;
Omítted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows, and in miseries :
And we must take the current when it sérves,
Or lose our ventures.

4. I should say sincèrity, a deep, great, genuine sincerity, is the first characteristic of all men in any way herdic. Not the sincerity that călls itself sincere; ah! nd, that is a very poor matter indèed; a shallow, bràggart, conscious sincerity; oftenest self-conceit mainly. The Great Man’s sincerity is of the kind he cannot speak of, is not conscious of.

5. Friend, if some actor murder Hamlet's part,

No line supplies the Histrio's want of árt,
Này, the more beauty in the words prevail,
The more it chafes you if the utterance fàil.
Shakspeare, ill-ácted, do you run to héar?
And Burke, ill-spóken, would you stay to chéer?

6. This is the forest primèval! The murmuring pines and the

hemlock, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the

twilight, Stand like Druids of eld with voices sad and prophètic, Stand like hàrpers hoar, with beards that rest on their

bòsoms. Loud from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced neighboring

òcean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the

fòrest.

III. Low Pitch. 1. “Of old hast Thou laid the foundation of the earth; and the heavens are the work of Thy hands. They shall pérish, but Thou shalt endure; yea, all of them shall wax old like a gàrment; as a vèsture shalt Thou change them, and they shall be chànged: but Thou art the same; and Thy years shall have no end."

2. When all thy mercies, O my God,

My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost

In wonder, love and pràise.

3. The stars shall fade away, the sun himself

Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in yèars;
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhùrt amidst the war of elements,
The wreck of matter and the crush of worlds.

4. So live, that when thy summons comes to join

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

IV. Very Low. 1. Hear the tolling of the bèlls

Iron bells ! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels !

In the silence of the night

How we shiver with affrìght
At the melancholy menace of their tone!

For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats

Is a groan.

2. 'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now

Is brooding, like a gentle spirit, o'er
The still and pulseless world.

3. Night, sable goddess ! from her ebon throne,

In rayless majesty, now stretches forth
Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world.
Silence how dèad! and darkness how profound!
Nor eye nor listening èar an object finds.
Creation sleeps. 'T is as the general pulse
Of life stood still, and nature made a pàuse, -
An àwful pause, prophetic of her ènd.

4. Hùsh! the dèad-march wails in the people's ears,

The dark crowd moves, and there are sobs and tèars;
The black earth yawns, the mortal disappears !

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust;
He is gòne who seemed so great.

5. Still night ;-and the old church bell hath tolled,

With its swinging peal, the passing hòur,-
Dolorous now, as it tolled of old
From the heart of its quarried tower;

And it seems to say,

As it dies away,-
The brazen clang of the tremulous bell,--
Old-õld, weary and õld;-
The hēart grows õld; for the world is cõld,”-

Solemnly sighs the far-spent knell.

THE

VIII.

TRANSITION. THE following exercises will be found useful in breaking up

monotony of style, and in giving a ready command of the voice. The pupil should acquire facility in making the changes of intonation indicated at the margin. The exercise is not withont use if practiced merely mechanically; but the true way, in this case as in all others, is for the reader to throw himself in sympathy with the sentiment expressed, that he may spontaneously give the requisite variety of vocal effect independently of the specific directions. 1. Soft.

Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows,

And the smooth stream in smoother nùmbers flows; Loud. But when loud surges sh ne sounding shore,

The hoarse rough verse should like the tòrrent ròar,

2. Slow. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,

The line, too, làbors, and the words move slow; Quick. Not sò, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the

main.

3. Loud.

The combat dèepens. On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory or the grave!
Wave, Munich ! all thy bànners wave,

And charge with all thy chivalry!

Soft.

Ah! few shall part where many mèet !
The snow shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet

Shall be a soldier's sèpulcher.

4. Aspi- Lo, dim in the starlight their white tènts appear! rated. Ride sòftly! ride slowly! the ònset is near!

Mòre slowly! mòre softly! the sentry may hèar! Loud. Now fall on the foe like a tempest of fame!

Strike dòwn the false banner whose triumph were

shame! Strìke, strike for the true flàg, for freedom and fàme!

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