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 pifch becomes lower in proportion to the gravity or solemnity of a passage.

I. High Pitch.

The wind, one morning, sprang up from sleep,
Saying, "Now for a frolic! now for a leap!
Now for a madcap galloping chase!
I'1l make a commotion in every place!"

2. 1d, they come, they come,
Garlands for every shrine,
Strike lyres to greet them home,
Bring roses, pour ye wine!

Swell, swell the Dorian flute

Through the blue triumphal sky,

Let the cithron's tone salute
The sons of victory!

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

She comes,
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn by a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses, as they lie asleep;
Her wagon-spokes made of long spinner's legs;
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, ot the mdonshine's watery beams:
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat:
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner Squirrel, or old Grub,
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.

4. On, son of Cimon, bravely on, and Aristidcs just!

Your names have made the field your 6wn, your foes are in the dust!

5. Hurrah for the sea! the all-glorious sea!
Its might is so wondrous, its spirit so free!
And its billows beat time to each pulse of my soul,
Which, impatient, 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 Latin. "N6," 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 fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows, and in miseries:
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.

4. I should say sincerity, a deep, great, genuine sincerity, is the .first characteristic of all men in any way herdic. Not the sincerity that calls itself sincere; ah! no, that is a very poor matter indeed; a shallow, braggart, conscious sincerity; oftenest self-conceit mainly. The Great Man's sincerity is of the kind he cannot speak of, is not cdnscious of.

o. Friend, if some actor murder Hamlet's part,
No line supplies the Histrio's want of art—
Nay, the more beauty in the words prevail,
The more it chafes you if the utterance fail.
Shakspeare, ill-acted, do you run to hear?
And Burke, ill-spoken, would you stay to cheer?

6. This is the forest primeval! 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 prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their

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

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

forest.

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 perish, but Thou shalt endure; yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment; as a vesture shalt Thou change them, and they shall be changed: but Thou art the same; and Thy years shall have no end."

2. When all thy mercies, 0 my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the View, I'm lost
In wonder, love and praise.

3. The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years;
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
The wreck of matter and the crush of worlds.

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. Hear the tolling of the bells—

Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a grdan.

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 dead! and darkness how profound!
Nor eye nor listening ear an object finds.
Creation sleeps. ' T is as the general pulse
Of life stood still, and nature made a pause,—
An awful pause, prophetic of her end.

4. Hush! the dead-march wails in the people's ears, The dark crowd moves, and there are sobs and tears; The black earth yawns, the mortal disappears!

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust;

He is gdne who seemed so great.

5. Still night;—and the old church bell hath tolled,
With its swinging peal, the passing hour,—
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—old, weary and old;—
The heart grows old; for the world is cold,"—
Solemnly sighs the far-spent knell.

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 without 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 numbers flows; Loud. But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,

The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar,

Slow. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw. The line, too, labors, and the words move slow;

Quick. Not s6, when swift Camilla scours the plain,

Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along thfc main. ''

3. Loud. The combat deepens. On, ye brave,

Who rush to glory or the grave!
Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave,
And charge with all thy chivalry!

Soft. Ah! few shall part where many meet!

The snow shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier's sepulcher.

i. Aspi- Lo, dim in the starlight their white tents appear! rated. Ride softly! ride slowly! the onset is near!

More slowly! more softly! the sentry may hear! Loud. Now fall on the foe like a tempest of flame!

Strike down the false banner whose triumph were

shame! Strike, strike for the true flag, for freedom and fame!