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 sepulchre.

1. Aspirated. Lo, dim in the starlight their white tènts appear! Ride softly! ride slowly! the onset is near!

Loud.

5. Aspirated.

Pure Tone.

6. Full Tone.

Gentle.

More slowly! mòre softly! the sentry may hear!

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!

Hush! hark! did stealing steps go by?
Came not faint whispers near?

No! The wild wind hath many a sigh
Amid the foliage sear.

Her giant form

O'er wrathful surge, through blackening storm,
Majestically calm, would gō,

'Mid the deep darkness, white as snow!
But gentler now the small waves glide,
Like playful lambs o'er a mòuntain's side.

Full Tone. So stately her bearing, so proud her array,
The main she will traverse for ever and aye.

Many pòrts will exùlt at the gleam of her màst.Aspirated. Hùsh! hùsh! thou vain dreamer! this hour is her last!

Hark! distant vòices, that lightly
Ripple the silence deep!

No; the swans that, circling nightly,
Through the silver waters sweep.

See I not, there, a white shimmer?
Something with pale silken shrine?
No; it is the column's glimmer,

'Gainst the gloomy hedge of pine.

Hark! below, the gates unbàrring!
Tramp of men and quick commands!
""Tis my lord come back from hùnting,"
And the Duchess claps her hands.

Slow and tired came the hunters;
Stopped in darkness in the court.
"Hò! this way, ye laggard hunters!
To the hall! What sport, what sport?"

Slow they entered with their master;

In the hall they laid him down:
On his coat were leaves and bldod-stains,
On his brow an angry fròwn.

9. Pure Tone. O Freedom! thou art not, as poets dream,

A fair young girl, with light and delicate limbs,
And wavy tresses, gushing from the cap
With which the Roman master crowned his slave
When he took off the gýves.

Orotund.

A bearded màn,

10. Loud.

Armed to the teeth, art thou; one mailed hand

Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy brow,
Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarred

With tokens of old wars; thy massive limbs
Are strong with struggling.

Once more unto the brèach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with our English dead!

Moderate. In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:

Loud.

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage.

Very Loud. On, ON, you noblest English,

Whose blood is fetched from fathers of wàr-proof!
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,

Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought,
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.

Quick and I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot;
Follow your spirits, and, upon this charge,

Very Loud. Cry,-HEAVEN FOR HARRY! ENGLAND! AND ST. GEORGE!

11. Tone of

The one with yawning made reply:

Indifference. "What have we seen?-Not much have I!

Trees, meadows, mountains, groves and streams,
Blue sky and clouds, and sunny gleams."

Animated The other, smiling, said the same;

That crowns or closes round this struggling hour,
Thou knowest, if ever from my spirít stole
One deeper prayer, 'twas that no cloud might lower
On my young fame!-O hear! God of eternal power!

Loud Oro- Now for the fight-now for the cànnon peal-
tund.

Forward-through blood and toil and cloud and fire!
Glorious the shout, the shock, the crash of steel,
The volley's roll, the rocket's blasting spire;
They shake-like broken waves their squares retire,-
On them, hussars!-Now give them rein and heel;
Think of the orphaned child, the murdered sire:-
Earth cries for blood,-in thunder on them wheel!
This hour to Europe's fate shall set the triumph-seal!

IX.-IMITATIVE MODULATION.

"NOTHING is more natural than to imitate, by the sound of the voice, the quality of the sound or noise which any external object makes, and to form its name accordingly. A certain bird is termed the cuckoo, from the sound which it emits. When one sort of wind is said to whistle, and another to roar; when a serpent is said to hiss, a fly to buzz, and falling timber to crash; when a stream is said to flow, and hail to rattle, the analogy between the word and the thing signified is plainly discernible." But imitation is not confined to single words. The works of poetical and imaginative writers abound in passages which by their melody suggest their meaning. These passages must, from their very nature, receive the interpretation of the voice to convey their full force. The following examples are selected, upon which the pupil may practise in making the sound an echo of the sense.

1. THE POWER OF WORDS.

Words are instruments of music: an ignorant man uses them for jargon; but when a master touches them, they have unexpected life and soul. Some words sound out like drùms; some breathe memories sweet as flùtes: some call like a clarionet; some shout a charge like trumpets: some are sweet as children's talk; others rich as a mother's answering back.

2. A DRUM.

The double, double, double beat
Of the thundering drum

Cries, Hark! the foes come:
Charge! charge! 'tis too late to retreat.

8. WAR AND PEACE.

The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar;
All now was turned to jollity and game.

As raging seas are wont to roar,

When wintry storm his wrathful wreck does threat,
The rolling billows beat the ragged shòre.

11. FELLING TREES.

Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes;
On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks
Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets hewn;
Then rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down.

12. SOUNDS HEARD IN THE COUNTRY.

Down the rough slope the ponderous waggon rings;
Through rustling corn the hare astonished springs;
Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hòur;
The partridge bursts away on whirring wings.

13. LABORIOUS AND IMPETUOUS MOTION.

With many a weary step and many a groan
Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone:
The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,

Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground

14. LANGUAGE COMPARED TO AN ORGAN.

Oh, how our organ can speak with its many and wonderful voice!--
Play on the soft lute of love, blow the loud trumpet of war,
Sing with the high sesquiáltro, or, drawing its full diapason,
Shake all the air with the grand storm of its pedals and stops.

15. BOISTEROUS AND GENTLE SOUNDS.

Two craggy rocks, projecting to the main,
The roaring wind's tempestuous rage restrain:
Within, the waves in softer murmurs glide;
And ships secure without their hàlsers ride.

16. THE WITCHES' CALDRON.

For a charm of powerful trouble
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble;
Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn and caldron bùbble.

17. POWER OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

Now clear, pure, hard, bright, and one by one, like to hailstones,
Short words fall from his lips fast as the first of a shower,-
Now in twofold column, Spondee, Iamb, and Trochee,
Unbroke, firm-set, advance, retreat, trampling along,-

Now with a sprightlier springiness, bounding in triplicate syllables.
Dance the elastic Dactylics in musical cadences on,--

Now, their voluminous coil intertangling like huge anacondas,
Roll overwhelmingly onward the sesquipedalian words.

X. STYLE.

THE first and most natural use of the voice is in common conversation; and the ability to read as a cultivated person talks, is the foremost accomplishment of a reader.

The test to be applied in reading the conversational style is this: Would a listener know whether you were reading or talking?

The narrative and descriptive styles are next in regard to fluency, and should be read as a person would tell a story with the design to make it interesting to his auditors.

The didactic style is more difficult, as there is constant danger of falling into dulness and monotony of manner. It must be read as if earnestly and sympathetically teaching truth to the hearers.

The style of public address varies with the nature of the occasion which gives rise to it, from a familiar and colloquial manner to a more formal and dignified utterance. It must be free from all mannerisms; and if circumstances demand loudness of voice, it must not be at the sacrifice of a sweet and agreeable quality.