^^«$i^^;^S$^iii&^$;!iiS^^^^:i^^ /4?. "y^ ^ A KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. 1^1)1 II /V/('/fords spoken by the living luiman voice, with all its marvellous sympathetic powers of intonation, inflection, and modulation. 4 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. I. enforced as far as possible by the expression of the countenance and gesture. Let me venture to quote a few passages — not from any professional writer on, or teacher of, Elocution (for that, as I said at first, I shall avoid doing as much as possible), but from an article lately published by an eminent American divine (the Rev. E. Kirk, of Boston), " On the Preparation required for the Public Duties of the Ministry," which is not less applicable to the subject, I think, in England than in America : — " It is easy to recognise the difference between a speaker who is agreeable and one who is disagreeable ; between one who is powerful and another who is feeble. Nor can any one entertain a doubt whether the difference is not just as obvious in the pulpit as in the senate, forum, or on the public platform. Every preacher, I should think, would desire so to deliver his sermon as that his meaning should be clearly perceived, and his sentiments deeply felt, rather than to utter it in a manner unin- telligible and unimpressive. Every congregation of worshippers would prefer in their pastor a good delivery to an awkward and disagreeable style of speaking. Let two men of equal piety and scholarship be pre- sented to any of our religious societies, the one a man of easy, becom- ing carriage in the pulpit, of apparently simple, natural, and powerful utterance ; the other uncouth in attitude and movement, indistinct and stammering in his enunciation, and wearisome in his drawling tones. Can any man in his senses doubt which of the two would be chosen ? No ! Thus far the case is plain. But if we go back from this, and observe this finished speaker practising in the detail of his studies and vocal exercises, there we shall find some demurring. Many who admire the orator are averse to the process of discipline which gave him the better style. There is, in other words, a prejudice in the community,- and among many excellent candidates for the ministry, in regard to Elo- cution as an art to be obtained by study and practice. This prejudice is worthy of a candid examination and an earnest effort to remove it. In the minds of some, the study and practice of Elocution is con- nected, if not identified, with the idea of substituting sound and emotion for sense and truth. To such persons it may be suggested that there is no necessity for this substitution. The importance of Elocution pre- supposes the importance of other things ; and for men who are morally and intellectually qualified to act as preachers, the importance of effective delivery and manner can scarcely be overrated. To overlook it is a proof neither of piety, dignity, nor wisdom. If there were some ethereal way of communicating with the mind, if the process of preaching were designed to be mesmeric, and people were to be put to sleep, instead of being aroused, in order to instruct and impress them, we might dispense with Elocution and the culture it requires. But so long as men are in the body, it will be found requisite for the most effective exercise of the ministry that a part of clerical education consists in the study and prac- tice of Elocution. That necessity is founded on these two facts — that the communication of thought and feeUng depends upon the right exercise of our bodily organs ; and that those organs are within the domain of that great law which requires the cultivation of the faculties. i^ Lect. I.] ON ELOCUTION. S It is not sufficient for the purposes of electrical power that the battery be fully charged : a good conductor must be added. Alas ! how much of the preaching to which we have to listen is of the class of non-con- ductors ! In the minds of others, again, Elocution is identified with an ostentatious exhibition of the graces and the accomplishments of the speaker. But this is confounding the use with the abuse of a good thing. Since it is a man who is to be heard and seen, and since there is but one right way of speaking or reading .aloud, while there are a thousand turong ways, the man will do well to learn the right way. And if the agreeable impression produced by an agreeable voice, manner, and person can conduce to the right impression of truth, the very purity of his desire to do good should induce him to cultivate voice, manner, and person. There is nothing in the study of Elocution, rightly understood and practised, that need awaken personal vanity. Nor is there any more inducement for an eloquent man to display all the means by which he acquired the power of commanding the sympa- thies and interest of his audience, than there is for a learned man to parade all his learning, or to become a mere pedant. Others fear that they shall be tempted to turn their chief attention in the pulpit to tones and gestures, and thus degrade their high vocation. This, again, is no necessary consequence, and \vould be simply a perversion of the art. The greatest orator, in an extemporaneous address, pays strict attention to the minutest rules of grammar, but there is no interruption in all this to the concentrated action of his understanding ; no extinction to the iiery current of his feeling. The rules of Elocution are designed to form the man, to correct the bad habits of attitude, speech, and gesture, and to make the voice, countenance, and body in every way fit instruments for a mind full of noble thoughts and powerful emotions." There is one objection more to which I turn, and which I hope to answer, and then I proceed to a different part of my subject. You may have heard well-meaning persons, but who cannot, I think, have maturely considered the matter, object to the resources of the art of Elo- cution (which, after all, means only the aggregate of all that constitutes a good delivery) being introduced into the reading-desk and pulpit, and say that it savours of irreverence to privately rehearse, over and over again, public prayers addressed to the Deity, or to read the lessons from the Bible, with all the rules of Elocution so fully carried out, that the standard which has been set up for the right performance of their various ministerial functions shall be satisfied ; and that to study the most effec- tive manner in which a sermon can be delivered, as a great tragedian would study the part he has to perform, is to reduce the high calling of the preacher to an unworthy level. Now, in answer to this, let me, in the first place, ask — How is the singing of hymns and anthems managed in our cathedrals, churches, and chapels ? Is their conducting left to persons wholly unskilled in the art of vocal music ? Do not organists and choristers meet and practise, and rehearse, over and over again, the anthems, psalms, and hymns they have to sing, until all is thought of sufficient excellence to be played and sung in public Worship ? Why ? I presume for one reason, to warm and excite, as much as possible, the 6 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. I. devotional feelings of the congregation. Now, then, I ask, are psalms, hymns, and anthems less direct appeals to God than the prayers in our Liturgy ; and do not all claim to be parts of divine service ? I answer, What is not thought to be waste of time nor irreverence in the one case, is equally neither waste of time nor irreverence in the other. In the "Contemporary Review," for the month of October 1872, in a very scholarly article, entitled " The Ethics of Ritual," by the Rev. J. B. Mayor, you will find this passage, which I think very applicable to ray subject : — "The readings from the Bible, when we pass beyond those narrative passages, which can never be wholly without interest, even for the least awakened mind, call for much thought and much knowledge to under- stand their general drift. ... If we have fallen into the habit (so much fostered by our sermons) of looking upon each text merely as a peg on which to hang a meditation, without reference to the context, or the readers to whom it was primarily addressed, ' the Word ' will be no light to our eyes or guide to our feet ; we shall simply see our own fancies reflected everywhere. There is no learning — no advance. Much may be done by an intelligent reader to enforce the meaning of what he reads by variation of tone, and pause, and emphasis. Such semi-dramatic reading seems to us to be almost essential, if the minds of the unedu- cated are to be reached ; and for their sakes, at any rate, we much regret the prevalent use of the monotone in reading the lessons in ritualistic churches." To read the Liturgy and to preach a sermon well is an art that requires just as much to be studied and practised, as the singing of hymns and anthems is an art that requires proper training and cultiva- tion. If we are to have public worship at all, I say every part of it should be made as excellent as possible, and no part of it be in any way neglected. And now I glance very briefly — for my time is limited, and I have other topics on which I desire to touch before I finish my remarks — at the professions of the advocate, the lecturer, and public speakers gene- rally. I am perfectly well aware that anything like grandiloquence, declamation, poetical flights, and rhetorical appeals are quite alien to our present national character. Modern taste and general tone of thought and feeling in our English courts of justice are utterly opposed to all useless declamatory froth and mere rhetorical display. And certainly it is only comparatively rarely that the circumstances of a case afford any just ground for what would be termed the higher flights of eloquence, and in the present day perspicuity of language and earnestness of manner are, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, the chief requisites of an advocate, as well as of public speakers generally. Still, the barris- ter is not always arguing dry, abstruse, and intricate points of law before courts of equity, or judges sitting in Batico; and in one branch of it, at least, he will have to address juries drawn from many grades of society in the metropolis, as well as at assizes and sessions, with whom, I am disposed to think', a p07i.ato7-es costarum and the intercostal (and, in women especially, what are termed the scaleni muscles) elevate the ribs. At the same time the diaphragm descends as the ribs rise, which causes the ab- dominal viscera to be pushed down. Thus the thoracic cavity is enlarged in all directions ; the lungs expand in proportion, and a vacuum of some extent is formed within their air-cells. A mechanical consequence follows. The denser external air, possessing greater gravity than the air within the chest, rushes through the nostrils into the trachea to occupy the vacuum that has been formed, and with this ends the act of inspiration. After this the intercostal and other muscles begin to relax, and gradually the ribs are restored to their former position, partly by their own elasticity and partly by the external pressure of the surrounding atmosphere. At the same time the abdominal muscles react, and the diaphragm rises up, and resumes its former position as the floor of the chest. The inflated lungs contract, too, simultaneously ; the air that has by the former process been taken in is now forced gradually out, and the thoracic cavity is restored to its former dimensions, and so concludes the act of expiration. Common experience will tell us how greatly the acts of inspiration and expiration vary in degree. When, for instance, we are sitting quietly studying or writing, respiration is performed almost entirely by the rise and fall of the diaphragm, and we can scarcely perceive the movement of the ribs. But now let us rise from our books or papers, and refresh ourselves with a good, deep inspiration, and we shall at once find how much more vigorously ribs, diaphragm, and all the muscles of respiration are acting. Let us, as an experiment, try to inspire as much air as we possibly can, and we shall feel that the diaphragm has now descended to its lowest degrees, while the chest has, by the action of the various muscles I have before spoken of, become enlarged to its utmost capacity. It is just the same as regards the reverse process when we increase the force and depth of our acts of expiration. Occasional exercises of the organs of respiration in this way are very serviceable for giving them vigour and flexibility of action, besides contributing to the general health of the system : for there can be no question that the grand object of respiration is, as we have already seen, the regular purification of the blood, which, as it courses through the body, becomes charged with noxious elements, that, if retained, would be absolutely destructive to life ; but, by the blood being constantly brought into contact with the air, the poisonous constituents of venous blood are eliminated, and from the new elements, derived from the atmosphere, it is converted into the pure, bright arterial blood. This is the primary result of respiration ; Lect. III.] ON ELOCUTION. 43 but there is another secondary effect, scarcely less essential to life and physical well-being ; and that is the evolution of heat, or caloric, as it is scientifically termed ; and this is produced chiefly, if not entirely, by the chemical combination of the carbon of the blood with the oxygen of the atmosphere. All this will show you how important it is in every way that the lungs should be regularly and properly exercised. I have now, then, finished all I have to say in regard to the organs and functions of respiration, and in my next Lecture I hope more especially to bring before you the subject of the vocal and speech organs, and to show you how voice is produced, and afterwards converted into man's grand pre- rogative — articulate language. LECTURE IV. General Description of all the Vocal Organs and their Respective Functions, with Illustra- tive Drawings — The Discoveries made by means of the Laryngoscope and its History — Formation of Voice by the Vocal Cords — Results of the Experiments of Garcia, Tiirck, Czermak, Sir G. D. Gibb, and others— Drawings of the Vocal Cords when at rest in silent Respiration and when producing Voice — Change of Voice at Puberty — Retention of the Effeminate Voice in Manhood, and proper Mode of Cure — Auxiliary Organs of Voice — Voices of Animals — Quotation from Dr. Carpenter — Brief Summary of the Articulating Organs. [N my last Lecture I described to you fully the chest and those respiratory organs which are subservient to the phenomena of the voice. This evening I propose occupying your atten- tion with an examination of the structure and functions of those organs which are more immediately concerned in the production of voice. Let me, as I did on the former occasion, endeavour to render my remarks the clearer by a reference to the drawings and diagrams before you, and the first to which I call your attention is this, which is the external appearance presented by the larynx. (See Fig. 3.) And next I have to bring before your notice this, which represents a section and exhibits the interior of the larynx. (See Fig. 4.) And then this, which exhibits the interior of the air-passage in a larynx and trachea slit down behind. The letters in the preceding drawing refer also to this. (See Fig. 5.) It is a most delicate, complicated, and important organ, for it is the instrument that produces all vocal sound. You see it is situated in the anterior portion of the neck, and rises out of the windpipe, and it con- sists of five principal elastic cartilages, of which one is always very per- ceptible to the eye, and two of them still more discernible through the integuments that cover them by the sense of touch. Let us then examine them in detail. The tube thus composed is itself called the larynx. This cartilage, G, which you see here connected by ligaments and membranes to the first ring of the windpipe, is called the cricoid, or ring-shaped cartilage. It is, as you can feel by placing the finger on your own necks just at that spot, very firm and solid in structure, serving, in fact, as a substantial foundation for the parts above it. Above this you notice a very marked cartilage. This is termed the thyroid, or shield- Lect. IV.] KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. 45 shaped, cartilage. It is composed of two portions, which unite in front, forming a decided protuberance in the throat of the full-grown man. It has received the fanciful appellation of the pomum Adam/', or Adam's apple, from the strange idea, or legend, that a portion of the forbidden fruit stuck in his throat, and has in appearance been perpetuated in all his descendants. The thyroid differs from the cricoid cartilage in this, that it does not surround the larynx, but at the back presents at its 3 Fig. 3- External aspect of the larynx, trachea, and thyroid gland, i. Thyroid cartilage. 2. Cricoid cartilage. 33. The superior horns of the thyroid cartilage. 4 4. The thyroid gland. 5. The trachea. 6. Bifurcation of the trachea. 7. Subdivision of the bronchi. extremities prolongations upwards and downwards, E and F. The former are called its great horns, and are connected by ligaments to the tongue-bone, while the latter are much shorter, and are connected by muscles and ligaments to the cricoid cartilage. Now, then, I come to two cartilages much smaller than the others, H. They are named the arytcenoid or ewer-shaped cartilages, and are placed in the highest part of the cricoid cartilage. In shape they are pyramidal, and are so connected to each other and the other cartilages by muscles 46 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. IV. and membranes, as to be capable of motion in several directions. These two cartilages are most important in regard to the production of voice, for it is to them that the vocal cords, O, are attached. And now, before I speak of thv'^se wonderful vocal cords and the way in which voice is produced by them, I hope it will not be uninteresting if I give you some account of the invention and means by which our present knowledge of human vocal phenomena has been attained. The subject has always been one of the greatest interest, especially to physi- Fig. 4- ologists ; and as early as the seventeenth century attempts had been made, by means of artificial contrivances, to obtain a view of the more deeply situated portions of the interior of the throat in the living human subject. But no name, I think, calls for any special mention until we come to that of Dr. Babington, who, at a meeting of the Hunterian Society in March 1829, showed an instrument he had constructed for rendering visible the interior of the larynx. It was, really, almost essentially the same as the instrument that is now in use for that purpose, Lect. IV.] ON- ELOCUTION. 47 and is thus described in the third volume of the " Medical Gazette," at page 585 :— " It consisted of an oblong piece of looking-glass, set in silver wire, a long shank. The reflecting portion is placed against the palate, while the tongue is held down by a spatula, when the epiglottis and the upper part of the larynx became visible in the glass." The impetus now seems to have been given to further improvements and discoveries. In France, MM. Traupeau and Belloc published in A. Great cornu of the hyoid bone. B. Body of the os hyoides. C. Small cornu of the hyoid. D. Thyroid cartilage. E. Upper cornu of the thyroid. F. Lower cornu of the thyroid. G. Cricoid cartilage. H. Arytsenoid cartilage. I. Cartilage of Santorini. J. Crico-arytrenoideus posticus muscle. K. Cuneiform cartilage. L. Epiglottis. M. Thyro-hyoid ligament. N. Crico-thyroid ligament. O. True chorda vocalis. P. False chorda vocalis. Q. Ventricle of the larynx. R. Rima glottidis. S. Sacculus laryngis. T. Thyro-hyoid membrane. U. Arytseno-epiglottid fold. V. Arytsenoideus posticus muscle. W. Interior of the trachea. X. Muscular part of the trachea. Y. Rings of the trachea. Fig. 5- 1837 the result of the investigation they had made by means of an instrument made by an ingenious mechanic of the name of Selligue, and which they call a speculum laryngis ; and in 1838 M. Beaumes, of Lyons, exhibited a mirror he had constructed for examining the throat, larynx, and back of the nostrils ; while in England the names of the late Mr. Avery and Dr. Warden should also receive honourable mention for their efforts in the same direction. But I must pass on now to a name that must ever occupy a very high place in the list of those distinguished men who have, within the last 4S KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. IV. twenty years, not merely metaphorically, but lUerally, thrown so much light upon the larynx. I mean M. Garcia, the celebrated teacher of singing, and brother of the great prima donna of thirty years ago, Madame Malibran. M. Garcia had for many years made the anatomy and physiology of the larj'nx, as the organ of voice, a subject of con- stant study, and had long felt a great desire to witness the mechanism and movements of the organ of the human voice in the act of singing. This he carried out successfully by a very simple plan, making his own throat the subject of his experiment, when he was at Paris in September 1854. Standing with his back to the sun, he held a looking-glass in his left hand before his face ; the sun's rays were thus reflected by the glass into his open mouth. Then, having previously warmed a small mirror, similar to that used by dentists, he placed it at the back of his mouth, and then he saw reflected in the mirror his own larynx, with the vocal cords in action as he sung an air. He next performed a series of ex- periments in relation to the movements of the vocal cords and the general action of the larynx in various persons in the act of singing, with a view to determine the chest registers of the voice, and the means by which the falsetto is produced. The result of M. Garcia's observations were given by him in a very interesting paper entitled " Physiological Observations on the Human Voice," which were read before the Royal Society on May 24th, 1855, and which, if you desire to read (and well will it repay perusal), you will find in the Proceedings of that Society for the year 1855. Many important observations and discussions resulted from the publication of this paper. The eminent physiologist. Dr. Tiirck, of Vienna, became acquainted with this paper, and was induced by it to use the laryngeal mirror in the wards of the general hospital of that city during the year 1857, for the purpose of making a diagnosis in cases of diseases of the larynx. In the autumn of that year he lent his mirrors to Dr. Czermak, who very soon made a great improvement in the in- vention. Hitherto sunlight had been the means employed for illumi- nating the interior of the throat, which, of course, was not always to be attained. He conceived the idea of adapting the ophthalmoscopic mirror, designed by Ruete, for the purpose of concentrating and reflecting artijicial light, thus making the laryngoscope, as he now termed his in- strument, available at all times as a means of inspecting the larynx and of guiding the hand in the application of local remedies. He also em- ployed mirrors of various sizes and perfected them in every way. The name of Czermak has ever since been prominently associated with what is termed the art of laryngoscopy, though we ought not to omit men- tioning, with high honour, the names of Sir G. D. Gibb, Dr. George Johnson, and Dr. Mackenzie in our own country, and those of Battaille and Merkel on the Continent. Czermak travelled over the best part of Europe in order to make known his researches, and the views he held in consequence. But with a most praiseworthy modesty he never failed to give Garcia all the merit his originality deserved ; and the very first essay Czermak published, which was in 1858, bore as its title "Physio- logical Researches with the Laryngeal Mirror of Garcia," showing the importance and value he attached to the experiments and researches of Lect. IV.] ON ELOCUTION. 49 the latter in thus giving his name to the mirror. That Garcia has a rightful claim to originality in what is called auto-laryngoscopy, or the means of inspecting one's own larynx, cannot, therefore, now, I think, be disputed. Still, Czermak must have the just merit given to him cf being considered the discoverer of the art of laryngoscopy in its appli- cation to the diagnosis and treatment of diseases of the larynx ; and he was also the first to practise the application of a somewhat similar contrivance to rhinoscopy, or the inspection of the posterior recesses of the nostrils. I quite agree with the late Sir George Duncan Gibb, who has written a most valuable and elaborate work on the laryngoscope,* where he says that the experiments of Czermak are many of the most important that have ever been, or are likely to be, made, and reflect the highest credit upon the sagacity and genius of their originator. They are so beautiful, and so physiologically true in relation to the human voice, and help us so much to appreciate the pathology of vocalisation, that we cannot be too grateful for them as they appear under the title of " Observations on the Human Voice," in the Proceedings of the Royal Society. Sir G. D. Gibb himself, in a lecture which he delivered on the nth of March 1863, before "The Musical Society of London," entitled " On the Influence of Musical and other Sounds upon the Larynx, as seen by the aid of the Laryngoscope, illustrated by a large number of coloured Diagrams," took the opportunity of acknowledging how much we owed to Garcia, and stated that his researches, which had given the first impulse to the study of laryngoscopy, had formed the basis of experiments for all subsequent observers. Now, then, let me show you in this diagram a general view of the larynx, and of these vocal cords in particular, when they are in a state of repose and silence. (See Fig. 6.) Fig. 6. View of the larynx in a state of repose and silence, as seen in the laryngoscope. a. Upper or lingual surface of the epiglottis, b. Lip of the epiglottis on its laryn- geal surface, c. Cushion of the epiglottis, d. Vocal cords, on the outer side of which is a dark line, the entrance of the ventricles, e. Cricoid cartilage. /. Trachea. g. Glosso-epiglottic folds, h. Aryteno-epiglottic folds. /. Regulator of the glottis (false cord), k. Cartilage of Wrisberg. /. Capitulum Santorini, forming the apex of the arytenoid cartilage, m. Arytenoid commissure. * " The Laryngoscope in Diseases of the Throat." By Sir George Duncan Gibb, Bart., M.D. Churchill & Sons, New Burlington Street. See also the two Lec- D 50 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. IV. These two long narrow bands marked d d are the vocal cords, extending, you perceive, from the angle of the thyroid cartilage to the base of the arytenoid cartilages. They are always quite unmistakable, for their colour is a brilliant, pearly, glistening white, sometimes partaking of a tinge of grey, and, in the act of vocalisation, capable of the most astonishing rapidity of movement. The average length of each of the vocal cords in man is rather more than half an inch, in woman some- what less. Miiller states that the relative lengths of the vocal cords in the male and female larynx are as three to two, both in the relaxed and in the extended state. As regards their structure, they consist of a bundle of fine elastic tissue, covered with a thin mucous membrane. You notice that each vocal cord has two free surfaces, one internal, which looks to its fellow, and one above, where it bounds the ventricle ; and the free edge between those two surfaces is the part that is made to vibrate by the out-going current of air, as I shall explain to you shortly. This diagram, then, shows you the position of the vocal cords when we are silent, and you perceive that their vibrating edges are at a distance from each other and divergent behind, and the air that we expire passes by them, when we are in a state of health, without producing any sound whatever. But now, in order that voice should be produced either for speaking or singing, these edges of the vocal cords require to be approximated and put parallel to each other by certain specific muscles, which perform that office, and thus be placed in what is called the vocalising position. This is instantly done at the command of that marvellous and mysterious power — the human will. The expired air Fig. 7. View of the larj-nx during the act of phonation, as seen in the laryngoscope. The same parts above the glottis are seen as in Fig. 6, only that the glottis is closed whilst sounds are being uttered, and the larynx above the glottis forms a sort of hollow, with the walls somewhat approximated. a. Vestibule of the larynx, b. Capitulum Santorini, below which is the arytenoid cartilage, c. Arytenoid commissure, d. Vocal process, e. Cornu of hyoid bone. f. Pharyngeal surface of cricoid cartilage. now puts the free edges of the vocal cords into a state of vibration, and then sound or voice is immediately produced. The diagram I now tures on the Laryngoscope, delivered at the Royal College of Physicians, by Dr. George Johnson, Professor of Medicine in King's College. Hardwicke & Co., 192 Piccadilly. Lect. IV.] ON ELOCUTION. 51 show you exhibits the position of the vocal cords in the act of producing voice. (See Fig. 7.) Now, is it not a wonderful thing to reflect upon that all the exquisite music, and the variety of notes we hear in the voice of a great singer, and the expressive and delicate inflections and modulations of the voice, which we hear in a great orator or actor, are mainly produced by the condition and action of these two little cords, each but little more than half an inch in length ? * The more the vocal cords are relaxed, the lower is the note in the musical scale, whether in song or in the inflections of the voice in Elocu- tion ; and, on the contrary, the more they are tightened, the higher is the note that is produced. Alterations in the degrees of tension in the vocal cords are produced and caused by the action of specific and most delicate controUing muscles. But the larynx also plays its part in the production of all the varieties of notes in the musical scale. To produce the deepest note of the voice, the larynx is depressed about half an inch below its mean position, by which the aperture between the vocal cords called the rima glottidis (or chink of the glottis) is opened in its whole extent, and the tension of the cords is very slight. When the larynx is in the lowest position, the voice not only takes its lowest note, but from a diminished action of the air in its egress becomes scarcely audible. On the other hand, when the voice ascends from the lowest to the highest notes of the register of the chest voice, the larynx gradually rises until it reaches half an inch above its mean position, and the aperture of the rima, or chink, diminishes in breadth in proportion as the larynx ascends, t I find it is stated in "Once a Week " that "Dr. Marcet, of the Erompton Consumption Hospital, has been examining the throat of one of the Tyrolese singers who have lately been warbling at St. James's Hall, the object of the inspection being to ascertain the physiological conditions which produce the beautiful falsetto notes for which the Swiss artists are celebrated. The observations were made by means of the laryngoscope. It is pretty generally known that the human vocal apparatus consists of a pair of membranes situated horizontally in the throat, and just touch- ing at their edges. A drum head, with a slit across it, may convey a popular idea of them. In the act of singing, the lips of these cords, as they are called, are brought into contact, and they approach each other throughout their whole length and remain parallel. When they are set in vibration, by the passage of air through them, under these the ordinary * A full report of Sir. G. Duncan Gibb's Lecture on " The Influence of Musical and other Sounds upon the Larynx, as seen by the aid of the Laryngoscope," delivered before the Musical Society of London, will be found in the Appendix. t In November 1873, a wonderful operation was performed for the first time in the annals of surgery in the chief hospital at Berlin, by Professor Billroth. The patient, owing to malignant disease of the larynx, was utterly voiceless. After excising the diseased portion, Professor Billroth supplied its place with an artificial larynx and vocal cords, composed of indiarubber and metal. Voice and speech were restored to the patient, though, of course, the voice had a very abnormal sound. A full account of the operation, with a description and engraving of the artificial larynx, was published Vy Dr. Gussenbauer, at Berlin, in 1874. 52 AVjVG'S college lectures [Lect. IV conditions, a full chest note is emitted ; but if they do not meet in their entire length, either a posterior or anterior portion of them remaining apart, the sound is no longer full, but feeble and shrill : the note emitted is what the stringed instrument player calls a harmonic, and what the singer calls a falsetto, or head note. The vioUnist who would bring out a harmonic, so touches a string that, instead of making it vibrate as a whole, he divides it into segments, each of which vibrates by itself, and emits the note due to its short length, instead of that which the full length of the string would yield. The same sort of thing seems to be done by the falsetto singer : the adept can at will shorten his vocal cords so as to pass instantly from any note to its harmonic. The muscular process by which this transition is effected is not clearly made out, so that it cannot be determined whether all singers are alike gifted with powers of head-singing equal to the Tyrolese, or whether Alpine melody grew out of peculiar capabilities of Alpine throats." I am indebted to Dr. Gordon Holmes for the subjoined illustration from his " Vocal Physi- ology," of the vocal cords in the act of producing the falsetto. Fig. 8. I have now, I think, given you a sufficiently full description of the vocal cords and the functions they perform ; and to witness their move- ments in the act of vocalisation by means of the laryngoscope, as I have done repeatedly (and strongly advise you to do if you ever have the opportunity), is certainly one of the most wonderful and interesting sights that can be imagined. I mentioned just now the rima gluttidis, or glottis, as it is usually called, and told you it is the narrow interval or chink between the vocal cords. Its extent is greater than that of the cords, for it reaches across the larynx. It measures from before backwards usually nearly an inch, and across at the base, when dilated, about one-third of an inch in men, but in women and boys less. During inspiration the space is larger than in expiration. It forms two changes with its dilatation. In a state of rest the interval resembles in shape a spear-head, with the shatt placed backwards ; when dilated it is triangular in form, the base of the interval being behind. It is provided with wonderfully delicate muscles, by which it is contracted or expanded, and assumes, according Lect. IV.] ON ELOCUTION. 53 to circumstances, a great variety of shapes. At that period of life when the boy becomes the young man, and the girl becomes the young woman, a marked change takes place in the size of the glottis, as well as in the character of the tone produced by the vocal organs. Usually, in less than a year at this period of life, the opening of the glottis in- creases in man in the proportion of five to ten, its extent being doubled both in length and breadth. In woman the change is not so remarkable in character ; her glottis usually increases in the proportion only of about five to seven, which at once accounts for the much greater change which takes place at this time in the voice of man. As the glottis enlarges with the progress of years and the continual practice, on sound physiological principles, of public speaking, or reading aloud, the voice becomes stronger, fuller, and deeper. In woman, the voice always remains comparatively weaker and higher in pitch, her glottis being, according to the eminent physiologist, Richerand, a third smaller than in man. Sometimes w^e meet with instances of men retaining in mature life the effeminate, cracked, falsetto, disagreeable voice which marked the period of puberty. In almost every case where there is no organic defect or malformation, a single course of lessons under a good elocu- tion master, acquainted with the anatomy and physiology of the organs of speech, will remove the evil. The epiglottis is the uppermost of the five elastic cartilages forming the larynx, and its office is to direct the expired sound, and to open and shut like a valve the aperture of the exterior glottis. Such, then, is a brief description of the larynx and its functions, and these are manifestly so highly important in connection with the produc- tion of voice, that the necessity is apparent to all, that care should be taken by every one, but especially by the public speaker or reader, to avoid contracting bad habits in speaking or reading, which may in any way injure so wonderful and delicate an organ. I have now to speak of what I may term the influence of the auxi- liary organs on the voice. The variation of the length of the trachea, as the prefixed tube, seems to have but little influence on the note pro- duced in the larynx. It is admitted, however, that the elongation of the superadded tube above the glottis facilitates, by the descent of the larynx, the production of low notes, while its shortening, by the ascent of the larynx, favours the production of higher notes. There are two little cavities, readily seen in many persons as dark lines on the outer margin of each vocal cord, between the latter and the regulators of the glottis. These are called the ventricles of the larynx. Sir G. D. Gibb says it is a curious fact that in most negroes a view can be obtained of their interior, from the obliquity of their position in that race. The chief office assigned to these cavities is to afford sufficient space for the vibration of the vocal cords. The ventricular sacs, moreover, appear to supply the vocal cords with the requisite amount of moisture while they are vibrating. The French physiologist, Savart, maintained that the air may vibrate in the ventricles, indepen- dently, and may produce sounds in such cases, when the other elastic parts are incapable of sufficient tension. 54 A'ING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. IV Let me now ask your attention to this diagram, to which I shall have to refer not merely in this Lecture, but when I come to speak of articula- tion and impediments of speech. (Fig. 9.) Fig. 9. Median section of the head ; F, frontal bone ; S, frontal sinus ; B, bone of the nose ; C, cartilage of the nose ; A^, external nostril ; U, upper spongy bone ; ^f, middle spongy bone ; L, lower spongy bone ; O, occipital bone ; V, vertebrae ; F, the spinous processes; i to 12, the cranial nerves; 13, the spinal cord; 14, superior maxillary bone; 15, hard palate; 16, soft palate; 17, uvula; 18, tonsil; 19, tongue; 20, frsenum ; 21, genio-glossus ; 22, genio-hyoideus ; 23, hyoid bone ; 24, palato-pharyn- geus ; 25, epiglottis; 26, hyo- epiglottic ligament ; 27, hyo-thyroid ligament ; 28, supe- rior ligament of the glottis ; 29, arytenoid cartilage ; 30, inferior ligament of vocal cord; 31, thyroid cartilage ; 32, cricoid cartilage ; 33 33, incisors ; 34 34, lips. It represents, you see, a sectional view of the human head, from the central line at the top of the skull to where the larynx terminates. Now, much of the resonant quality of the voice is influenced, not merely by the state and size of these ventricles of the larynx, of which I have just spoken, but by the dimensions and condition of the fauces, the oral and nasal cavities, and the development of those hollows in the long part of the forehead, marked S, and which are called ihe frontal sinuses. The eminent physiologist, Professor Owen, is of opinion that that want Lect. IV.] ON ELOCUTION. 55 of resonance for which the voices of the natives of Australia are so remarkable, is most probably owing to the fact that the frontal sinus is not fully developed in that race. It may thus be considered that the parts above the glottis, in regard to the production of these secon- dary vibrations of sound which we term resonance of the voice, serve (to use the comparison of the late Dr. Hunt) the office of a short speaking-tube. Much also depends on the proper expansion and position of the chest, for when this is rightly carried out, not only can you then hear the vibrations of the voice in singing or speaking, but if you place your hand on the chest, you can actually 7^1?/ that the whole cavity of the thorax is resounding within. The influence of the epiglottis, too, must not be passed over un- noticed. When it is pressed down, so as to cover the larynx, vocal sounds are rendered deeper and rather duller. Miiller states, " in uttering deep notes, we evidently employ the glottis in this way ; such, at least, seems to me the object of the depression of the tongue, when, endeavouring to produce very deep notes, we press down the head." An eminent Italian physiologist, Bennati, remarks that the soft palate rises and assumes an arched shape in the formation of low notes, and sinks in those of higher notes. The uvi4la keeps its normal position in the lower notes of the voice, but nearly disappears from sight in the production of the highest notes. The importance of this organ in regard to the tone of the voice is very considerable; for if it be of unusual size or deficient in contraction power, the purity and power of the voice are greatly impaired. Accord- ing to the same authority, the tonsils also swell and approach each other when high notes are being produced.* Dr. Carpenter, to whom we are indebted for one of the best works on mental physiology, as well as physiology generally, when treating in his "Principles of Physiology" of the degree of precision with which the muscular contraction of the glottis can be adapted to produce a designed effect, says, " The natural compass of the voice in most persons who have cultivated the vocal organs, may be stated at about two octaves or twenty-four semitones. Within each semitone, a singer of capability could produce at least ten distinct intervals ; so that the total number, 240, is a very moderate estimate. There must, therefore, be 240 diffe- rent states of tension of the vocal cords producible by the will ; and, as the whole variation in the length of the cords is not more than one-fifth of an inch, even in man, the variation required to pass from one interval to another, will not be more than tsVt)^'^ °^ ^" inch. And yet this estimate is much below that which might be made from the performance of a practised vocalist. It is said that the celebrated Madame Mara was able to sound 100 different intervals between each tone. The com- * Since the above was written, I have had the privilege of seeing a most ingenious working model of the larynx, just designed (1875) t)y Mr. Edmund J. Spitta, late demonstrator of anatomy at the school of St. George's Hospital, illustrating his view of its various movements, and constructed by Mr. Hawkesley. A full description of it will be found in the Appendix. 56 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. IV. pass of her voice was at least three octaves or twenty-one tones ; thus the total number of intervals was 2100, all compressed within an extreme variation of one-eighth of an inch ; so that it might be said that she was able to determine the contractions of her vocal muscles to nearly the seventeen-thousandth part of an inch." The late Dr. Hunt stated in 1859 that some physiologists have endea- voured to calculate the changes of which the human organ of voice is capable, on the assumption that the number of changes must at least equal the number of muscles employed. Considering that at least seven pair of muscles belong to the larynx, and that they can act singly, or in pairs, or in combination with the whole, or with part of the next, they are, according to Dr. Barclay's estimate, capable of producing upwards of sixteen thousand different movements. When to the proper muscles of the larynx are added those attached to the cartilages and hyoid bone, which may act independently, or in co-operation with those of the larynx, the estimate would have to be very largely increased. But as all the respiratory muscles have directly or indirectly an influence in the pro- duction of the voice, the changes which they are capable of producing in the relative position of the vocal organs will scarcely admit even of an approximate calculation. The number of movements of which the vocal apparatus is susceptible, and the variety of tone which it can produce, may indeed be said to be beyond conception. To students who may be desirous of investigating more fully and minutely the nature and action of the mechanism of the larynx in pro- ducing all the various elements of voice and speech, I recommend very strongly the admirable translation by Mr. Lennox Browne of the elabo- rate and interesting work by the eminent physician. Dr. G. J. Witkowski, of Paris, so fully and copiously illustrated, that no less than one hundred and forty-nine different parts of the throat and tongue are pictorially brought before the eye of the reader, and fully described by the author, and to which the translator has added some most valuable and original notes and observations.* Before I leave the subject of the vocal organs, it may not be un- interesting to you, especially in these days, when Professor Huxley's Lectures, Darwin's " Origin of Species," " Descent of Man," and other works, have drawn popular as well as scientific attention so much to the various points of resemblance and difference between the anatomy and physiology of man and animals, if I touch briefly on the voice of animals, and the mode by which it is produced. In all the mammalia, the general structure of the larynx resembles that of man. The power and peculiar character of the cries or sounds made by various animals, such as the roar of the lion, barking of the dog, lowing of cattle, or bleating of sheep, &c., depend on different degrees of de- velopment of the vocal cords, and some peculiarity of structure in the larynx and other organs ; for instance, the " howling " or " preacher monkey," of South America, though by no means large in size, yet possesses a voice which is capable of being heard at a distance of more than two miles. This extraordinary intensity and power of voice is * Published, price los. 6d., by Bailliere, Tindal, & Cox, King William Street. Lect. IV.] ON ELOCUTION. 57 produced by certain pouches connected with the larynx, and to a large drum-like development of the hyoid bone.* On the other hand, those animals which are wholly silent, such as the giraffe and armadillo, owe their inability to produce any sound to the fact of their possessing no vocal cords. If you wish to enter more fully into the interesting subject of the voice of animals, I would refer you to the works of Carpenter, Darwin, Cuvier, Lehfeldt, and Brandt, the latter of whom has treated especially of that order which has the closest resemblance to man — the quadrtimana. Birds differ most remarkably from all other classes in their vocal organs, in the fact that they possess a double larynx, that on the top of the trachea being partly cartilagenous and partly osseous, and its chief function that of regulating the function of respiration. The lower larynx, whence solely the voice of birds has its origin, is situated at the bottom of the trachea, and is formed by several of its lowest rings. It varies greatly both in form and structure, and possesses special muscles by which the distance between the vocal cords may be either lessened or increased. Just as we find certain of the mute mammaHa without any vocal cords, so we find rare instances of voiceless birds, such as a few of the vulture tribe, that possess no lower larynx. The birds of song that so delight us with their melody, have no less than five pairs of muscles that act upon their vocal cords ; and, moreover, possess at the inner edges of each compartment of the larynx an additional mem- braneous fold, called, from its shape, the semi-lunar membrane, which is of relatively considerable size in parrots, magpies, and other birds that can be taught to speak. My authority for all these statements is the eminent French physiologist, M. Savart, and to him I refer you, if you wish to enter more fully into all the curious and interesting particulars and differences in the vocal mechanism of birds. When we descend to reptiles and the amphibia, we find the larynx of the mammalia, as it were, in a rudimentary condition, and their vocal organs, in regard to structure, exhibit considerable difference. The roar of the alligator, and the croaking of the frog, are alike produced by the vibration of their vocal cords ; but snakes possess no vocal cords, and, consequently, can only produce a hissing sound, which is caused by the air being forced out through the narrow opening of the glottis. . The French naturalist, M. Hanle, has given a very elaborate descrip- tion of the anatomy and physiology of the various families of reptiles, particularly in regard to their vocal organs. Most fishes are mute, with certain very rare exceptions, of which the mackerel is one, for, if taken out of the water and seized with the hand by the lower part of the body, it produces a kind of moaning sound, which is caused by the friction of the bones of the larynx, as, indeed, may be distinctly seen, says Dr. Hunt, if its mouth be opened.' With regard to the sounds produced by insects, such as crickets, grasshoppers, bees, &c., the quaint remark of the French naturalist, M. Goureau, is generally applicable, that they are rather to be considered as imisicians than singers. With most of them the sounds they produce * Humboldt's Zoological Observations, vol. i. p. 9. 58 A'ING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [I.ect. IV. are caused either by the friction of their wings together, or their almost inconceivably rapid vibration in the act of flight ; but the German entomologist, Burmeister, has demonstrated that in many of them, such as bees, wasps, and flies, the sounds which they make are not caused solely by friction, but by the air also passing rapidly through the tho- racic air-holes. Some insects, too, like the death-watch, cause a sound resembling the ticking of a watch by striking against wood or other hard substances with their horny mandrils, which is generally believed to be a noise made for the purpose of attracting the mate ; and others of the grasshopper tribe, such as the male cicada of Brazil, can, through the agency of certain internal organs with which they are provided, produce sounds which can be heard at an enormous distance, con- sidering the minute size of the creature by which they are caused. The chief organ that forms this sound appears to be a strong elastic membrane that is stretched across a cavity, acted upon by opposing bundles of muscular fibres ; and the resonance of the sound is further increased by external plates ; and, to quote the words of Dr. Carpenter, '' so effectually do they act, that a certain cicada of Brazil is said to be audible at the distance of half a mile, which is as if a man of ordinary stature possessed a voice that could be heard all over the world." The subject of articulation is necessarily connected so closely with that of the formation of voice, that perhaps it ought to be discussed next in point of order ; but, as I shall have to enter very fully into the nature of the various articulating organs and their respective functions, when I come to treat of the different kinds of impediments of speech and defective articulation, I shall reserve this portion of our inquiry until that occasion ; only remarking, for the present, that by the arti- culating or enunciative organs, are meant those organs by which the stream of sound is so modified and acted on, after issuing from the larynx, as to produce the several letters which are the elements of human speech. A vowel is a simple sound formed by the impulse of the voice only, by the opening of the mouth in a particular manner, whilst a consonant is an interruption of the vocal sound, arising from the application ot the organs of speech to each other ; and all the articulating organs are found in the mouth, and consist of the tongue, the lips, the uvula, and soft palate, which are movable, and the gums, 'teeth, and bony palate, which ^xq fixed. But we have yet to inquire what is that organ by which the mind, not only conceives ideas and the language in which those ideas shall be clothed, but exercises the power of calling voice into existence, and by means of influencing the muscles which move tongue, lips, and other articulating organs, forms the various letters, and produces man's highest prerogative — the gift of human speech ? This dominant organ is the brain, and the light that has been thrown upon its various mental and physical functions by very recent scientific researches and discoveries, has been of the most marvellous and important character. It has now been ascertained, says Dr. Julius Althaus, in his most deeply interesting article on " The Functions of the Brain," which appeared in the " Nine- teenth Century" for December 1879, P- 1023, that \.\\q medulla oblongata Lect. IV.] ON ELOCUTION. 59 contains the nerve-centre which controls the formation of articulate speech, that is, the pronunciation of vowels and consonants in such fashion as to form words. These facts are well illustrated by the symp- toms of a peculiar disease which, although it has no doubt always existed, has only recently attracted the attention of the medical world, and which consists in a wasting away of those nerve-cells in the medulla which preside over the functions just named. As the disease progresses, more and more letters of the alphabet become lost, the vocal cords become at length paralysed, and voice ultimately is completely lost. "But one of the most suggestive results of recent researches," continues Dr. Althaus, at p. 1028, "has been to show that the faculty of intel- ligent language, as distinguished from articulate speech, is situated in that portion of the hemispheres of the brain, which is called the third left frontal convolution, and its immediate neighbourhood. We have already seen that the pronunciation of letters and words is effected in the lowest portion of the brain, viz., the mediilla, but this, and all the other inferior organs concerned in speaking, form only, as it were, the instrument on which that small portion of the brain's surface, which I have just named, is habitually playing. Lower centres are able to hear spoken words, and to see written words, but the intelligent appreciation of the connection which exists between words and ideas, and the faculty of expressing thoughts in sentences — that is, what the Greeks called ' logos ' — only reside in the third left frontal convolution. This dis- covery was foreshadowed by Gall, but actually made by Broca." Well indeed may such discoveries as these be given in illustration of the remark of the late Charles Kingsley, which I quoted in my opening Lecture, that, "to the minute philosopher, few things seem more miraculous than human speech." Note. — In a most interesting article by Mr. J. G. Romanes on "Animal Intelli- gence," which appeared in the "Nineteenth Cefttury," for October 1878, he says : "So that all our lines of evidence converge to one conclusion, viz., that the only difference which analysis can show to obtain between the mind of man and the mind of the lower animals, consists in this — that the mind of man has been able to develop the germ of rational thought, whic'' is undeveloped in the mind of animals, and that the development of this germ has been due to the power of abstraction which is rendered possible by the faculty of Speech. I have therefore no hesitation in CTivin"- it as my opinion that the faculty of Speech is alone the ultimate source of that enormous difference which now obtains between the mind cf man and the mind of the lower animals." If this be so, it is no wonder that in the earlier history of mankind, we continually meet with divine powers attributed to Speech. The idea of Speech as a divine emanation or energy first arose in the human mind in India. There can be traced continually in the old Sanscrit literature a deification of Speech, and this idea wherever it spread seems to have exercised a fascination on mankind. LECTURE V. Respiration and the proper mode of Managing the Breath in Public Reading and Speaking — Dr. Morell Macl^enzie — Dr. Shuldham — Mr. Lennox Browne — Mr. Lunn, &c. N my preceding Lecture I endeavoured to give a general description of those portions of our frames which play so important a part in the formation of the voice and the articulation of the speech. In this Lecture I have to make you acquainted with what, from my own experience, as well as the testimony of others, seems the best way of using this wonderful and complicated vocal machine, so as to enable it to discharge all its various functions in such a manner as will not only afford pleasure and satisfaction to our hearers when we read or speak, but, at the same time, will contribute most to our own personal health and comfort. I quite agree with a well-known physician,* when he says, " It is certainly great inconsistency to lavish all our care and attention in stor- ing the mind vfith knowledge, and yet make no provision for cultivating the medium by which this knowledge may be made available to others." It is now, while the vocal organs are flexible, and the whole frame exults in the fresh and elastic vigour of early manhood, that you may cultivate the art of speaking, reading, and other branches of elocution, with such comparative ease to yourselves and such advantage to others. Now is the season when you can most profitably bestow attention on the cultiva- tion of the voice, and the improvement of delivery, as well as the cor- rection of those faults of accent and intonation, which in general spring from ignorance, inattention, or instinctive imitation. In a word, as I have said before, so now I say again with all emphasis and earnestness, the human voice, with its wonderful and varied powers, its infinite and delicate shades of expression, ought to have as much care and attention as we bestow on the development and cultivation of any of our other faculties. From what I have observed in my own experience as a Public Lecturer in this College, as well as a private teacher of the art of Public Reading and Speaking, I really think few persons out of the medical i:)rofession reflect on the enormous space which the lungs occupy in * Dr. Mackness on " Dysphonia Clericorum." Lect. v.] KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. 6i our frames, and how all-important their sound and healthy condition is to us. To nearly all those who soon break down from physical exhaus- tion after reading or speaking, I would say : — " How much of your lungs do you think you habitually use in this same act of breathing ? " A very limited portion, I fear ; in fact, just that portion which lies at the upper part of the chest, and no more : and what is the result when you attempt, thus breathing, to read or speak for any length of time ? I fancy I can tolerably well describe what you experience. Do you not find that your breath very soon becomes exhausted, and being again taken rather hastily, and not sufficiently deep, the results which ensue are the follow- ing, with more or less aggravation according as the natural constitution is more or less robust : you feel a sense of weight at the chest, of general oppression, exhaustion, and weariness, and very possibly other and more alarming symptoms. And can you wonder at these disastrous conse- quences not unfrequently following ? Can you feel surprised that your health should suffer by so wrong an exercise of such an important organ in the system ? I want to impress upon you that proper breathing is healthy breathing ; and that reading aloud, speaking, and singing are, when correctly performed, ??iost healthful, invigorating, and beneficial exer- cises to the body as well as to the ?nind. If, however, from habit or inatten- tion, you do not as a rule properly inflate the lungs, why, ^portion only, instead of the whole, is brought into play, and the portion so overworked often pays the penalty for the additional labour imposed upon it, while the great mass of the lungs, being left unused and uninflated, is often marked by morbid symptoms of various kinds, which lead to serious diseases, of which the " clerical sore throat " is the most common. Now, then, on this head alone, viz., the right management of the breath in respiration generally, but especially when reading aloud or speaking in public, there is much to be said. It is, in the first place, highly important that the speaker or reader should, both for the sake of complete ease and freedom in the performance of the function of respira- tion, as well as for the influence of those secondary vibrations of the upper portion of the trunk of the body, place himself in the best position for the discharge of the task he has undertaken — the position that is most favourable for speaking at the same time with energy and personal comfort. What, then, is this position ? It is, in fact, just the attitude in which the drill-sergeant would make you stand — the chest thrown fully open, and kept properly expanded by the shoulders being thrown back and the head held easily erect. Do not here misunderstand me. I do not mean to assert anything so absurd as that a man should always stand in the same position. But the speaker ought to have a normal position to which he habitually returns after every brief deviation from it. These deviations may sometimes be for relief, by a slight change in the atti- tude, sometimes for the sake of expressing some particular emotion. But I again strongly urge upon you that this is to be the normal and habitual position ; because it is that which is the most favourable for the full and free inflation of the lungs in consequence of the expansion of the chest ; and also for the production of those secondary vibrations which tend to increase the power and volume of the voice. Above all things, then. 62 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. v. avoid the habit which so many men have, who have never received any training in the art, or at all considered the subject, of advancing on a platform to the railings in front, leaning upon them with one or both hands, and making that their normal position. With the larynx and, chest so contracted, nothing can be more ungraceful and nothing more destructive to all energy and freedom in speaking. Mr. Lennox Browne says very truly that the lungs may be primarily expanded or inflated in three different ways, viz. : — (i.) By pressing them downward against the lower wall, which is purely muscular and elastic, and has on its opposite or inferior side soft and yielding parts. In this manner the shoulders remain unmoved, and the chest-walls are gradually dilated from below upwards. (2.) By pressing the lungs outwards against the more or less elastic framework of the ribs. In this method also the upper part is not brought into movement. (3.) By drawing the lungs upwards with the collar-bone (clavicle) and shoulder- blades (scapula), those parts which are fixed in the first and second methods. The first WMy is called the abdominal or diaphragmatic (after the muscles which regulate the movement) ; the second is known as the lateral, or better, as the costal (costa, a rib) ; the third as the clavicular, or scapular. All breath-taking, alike in speaking, reading, singing, and in ordinary life, should be diaphragmatic or abdominal. Inspiration should commence by the action of the abdominal muscles, and the descent of the diaphragm — in other words, by pushing forward the Fig. 10. Fig. II. walls of the abdomen and chest. As the lungs inflate with the descent of the diaphragm, the inspiration, being prolonged, becomes lateral, and the ribs expand on all sides equally, but the shoulder-blades and collar- bone still remain fixed.* If respiration be further and unduly pro- * I advise all who wish to have a clear knowledge of the process of respiration, and indeed of vital functions generally, to study the admirable "Science-Primer on Physiology " of Professor Michael Foster, or the "Elementary Lessons" of Professor Huxley, both published by Macmillan. Lect. v.] on elocution. 63 longed, it becomes clavicular ; but clavicular breathing is a method totally vicious and to be avoided. By it the whole lower part of the chest is flattened and drawn in, instead of being distended ; consequently the lower or larger part of the lungs is not inflated. It is a method never exercised by nature in a state of health, but only when from disease, either the abdominal or chest muscles cannot act ; and it is the method least efficacious in filling the lungs, as it is the one calculated most to fatigue the chest ; for it compresses the vessels and nerves of the throat, and this leads to engorgement and spasmodic action of the muscles. The lateral method is more commonly exercised by women than by men, and is, to some extent, considered necessary to them ; for in women the siernum or breast-bone is always pushed more forward than in men ; but it is an error to suppose that the clavicular method is ever necessary to either sex in a state of health. (See Figs. 10, 11.) The above diagrams illustrate the varying capacity of the chest, according to the method in which the lungs are inflated. The front outline A, of the shaded figure represents the chest after complete expiration ; the black continuous line B gives the increase in size of the chest and the descent of the diaphragm, indicated by the curved transverse lines, in full abdominal respiration. The dotted line C, shows the retraction of the diaphragm and of the abdominal muscles in forced clavicular inspiration. The varying thickness of the line B, indicates the fact of healthy breathing in man being more abdominal than in woman. The outlines of forced inspiration in both sexes are remark- ably similar. In sleep or repose respiration goes on with regularity ; but in speaking, or singing, there is always a certain struggle between the inspiratory and expiratory muscles. It is clear that, as the elasticity of the opposing parts is least in the clavicular, and greatest in the diaphragmatic respira- tion, the resistance is in the same relation greatest in the former method, and consequently the fatigue experienced by this method is in propor- tion increased.* In regard to expiration in speaking and singing, which is not less important than the act of inspiration, Mr. Lennox Browne very justly remarks that " the expiration should be equally easy, not wasted, jerky, or in gasps, but steady and gradual ; for it is on the extension combined with the regularity of expiration, that the intensity or power, the steadi- ness and duration, of vocal vibrations depend. And here it may be remarked that he is the best singer (and it is almost needless for me to add the best reader and speaker also) who can so control the expiration, that the least possible amount of air sufficient to cause vibration is poured with continuous effect upon the vocal organs.! Hence, as one so well knows, the greatest singers appear to have an inexhaustible supply of breath. The method of respiration I have indicated as the * " Medical Hints on the Management of the Sintring Voice," by Lennox Browne, F.R.C.S., pp. 14, 16. London: Chappell & Co. Price is. t The direction of Senor Garcia, to practise his voice with a lighted candle before his mouth, is known to many. If the flame be extinguished, or even wavers, it is a si^n that too much air is being expended. 64 KINCS COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. V. natural, and therefore the best, was the one taught by the Italian school of the last century. There is just as much teaching of what may be called the decorations of the voice in the present day as then ; but the art of forming a solid basis of voice by long exercise on a right method of breathing, seems to be almost lost, or, if not lost, is overlooked.* Dr, Shuldham, in his valuable and interesting work on "Clergyman's Sore Throat," takes precisely the same view of what constitutes true and healthy respiration ; for, in language quaint but forcible, he says, " Here are the lungs waiting to be stocked with air, warehouses ready to be filled in, basement first, or second story : there are the cranes, pulleys, and ropes ready to do the storage. Which is the most important part of our warehouse — which will stretch most to accommodate the goods ? Why, the basement. The bases of our lungs fill best, most easily, and the parts below the bases are the most accommodating : therefore that form of breathing called by some authors the abdominal, and by others the diaphragmatic, is the one which should be adopted for all physiological reasons. The bases of the lungs rest on soft, yielding structures. The tliaphragm is a large muscle that separates the lungs from the abdominal viscera : it is, in fact, a kind of lift between the upper story of the chest and the lower story of the abdomen ; but, though it constantly goes below into the abdomen, it only carries the same passengers, and these are the lungs. When we take in a deep breath, the lungs expand and down goes the diaphragm lift, with the lungs resting on the upper surface ; when we let out air from the lungs, up goes the lift, and carries back its passengers quietly and with great care. " But there are other ways of breath-taking besides the use of this muscular lift. There is the lateral or costal method, or breathing by the ribs, and there is the clavicular or breathing by the collar-bones. Now, when we mark out all these methods specially, we do a right thing, for we individualise the methods and draw attention to the physiology of breathing ; but truly there can be no breathing by the diaphragm without some use of the ribs and the muscles that set those ribs in motion ; therefore these two forms verge into each other, only with this difference, that the use of the diaphragm should be thought of first, and the use of the ribs should be an after-thought in this great act of breathing. In the effort to fill the lungs with air we find that as there is less opposition to lung expansion from below, than from the bony corset above and at the sides, therefore to breathe by the diaphragm is less fatiguing, and also allows of greater lung expansion. Can we hesitate, then, to choose it ? " The breathing by clavicle or collar-bone is wrong in every way, and we believe that really it is not often put into practice, for one good reason, viz., because it is a difficult method and requires great muscular effort. As the apices of the lungs are encased by unyielding upper ribs and stout muscular tissue, we can at once see that lung expansion in this upper story can never be great, nor easy of management, and therefore breath-taking by the collar-bones should never be practised, as its results are disastrous to health and voice production. It leads to muscular strain, inartistic use of voice, weakness, and finally perhaps to * Ltnnox Browne's " Medical Hints on Management of the Singing Voice," p. 17. Lect. v.] • ON ELOCUTION. 65 loss of voice, with irritation of pharynx, and thus to ' Clergyman's Sore Throat.'"* Nor are Dr. Shuldham's remarks in regard to the necessity of pro- perly controlling the expiration of breath, in order to produce the best effect when reading, speaking, or singing, less true and appropriate ; for he says: — "The breathing should be handed to the care of the diaphragm and ribs, and therefore ribs and diaphragm should again do their service in driving out the air from the lungs. Both processes require judgment. To take in breath is to provision one's self; to let out breath is to part with one's stock. Unless the lungs are well provisioned with air, we cannot carry on the business of speech or song effectively ; and unless we part with our stock with judgment, our respiratory affairs become embarrassed, and in desperate cases become bankrupt. In plain English, an artist must learn to expire, to part with breath, just as much as to inspire or take in breath. His inspiration should be quietly made, without effort and without sound ; the shape of the mouth should in the very act of speaking be moulded in harmony with the different vowel sounds. The head should be erect, the muscles of the neck free, the shoulders thrown back, the chest thrown forward, and both chQst and abdomen free from all restraint of tightly-fitting dress. Then, as the air is rightly taken in, the muscles of the abdomen should relax, and the speaker or singer should almost feel the diaphragm descending, the ribs rising, and the abdomen filling out. I say almost feel : he should never he. painfully conscious of this act of breath-taking, as thfn it will become at once a forced muscular effort. Instead of a second nature acquired by art, it will, by arresting the speaker's attention, interfere with the perfect finish of his speech or song. The breath- taking should never be spasmodic nor hurried. This comes of too frequent inspirations and lack of art ; this leads to the panting sounds of inelegant speakers ; this brings about rapid fatigue of voice, and sooner or later develops the symptoms of ' Clergyman's Sore Throat.' The speaker or singer should regulate his inspiration according to his subject, his phrase, his power ; his provision of air should not be too scant, nor yet should it overload his lungs. In very deep and pro- longed inspiration, there is a tendency to part with the air too suddenly, as the muscular power that raised the ribs is being counterbalanced by those muscles that lower the ribs ; for there is a constant interchange of force going on when breathing in and breathing out. If the act of inspiration is too prolonged, the act of expiration will be shortened ; and what a speaker or singer looks for, is perfect harmony of adjustment, a balance that shall never be so rudely disturbed as to interfere with the practice of his art. I feel that this point has not been sufficiently dwelt on by writers on Elocution or Singing. The faults of too frequent and spasmodic inspirations have been pointed out over and over again, and the invariable lesson given has been ' Inspire long and deeply.' A good lesson, in truth, but it has its dangers, and I feel it is right to point them out. We would say, ' Inspire long enough for the musical * Dr. Shuldham on " Clergyman's Sore Throat," i2mo, pp. 42-44. London : Gould, Moorgate Street. Price 2s. 6d. 66 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. V. or elocutionary phrase that is to follow the breath-taking, not long enough to fatigue the lung tissue or the inspiratory muscles.' Yes, truly ' fatigue ; ' as, though the strain is but short-lived, yet, if continued, it leads to this condition. " The expiration should also be easy and without effort. When the air leaves the lungs to be converted into sound, there should still be no strain, no visible effort ; but the sound should flow out evenly, and without any consciousness on the artist's part of his possessing a larynx to warble through, or a pair of bellows to propel the sound. There should be even less effort in breathing out sound than there is in breathing in air. The artist may be, and must be, conscious of purity and intensity of sound, but this must be produced without visible muscular effort. All swelling of the veins of the neck and of the forehead, and all getting red in the face, point at once to the use of clavicular breathing and lack of art in voice production." * We can hardly bestow too much attention, or devote too much time, to a full investigation and thorough comprehension of this most im- portant branch of our subject ; for, as Mr. Charles Lunn says in the fourth edition of his very interesting and suggestive little work on "The Philosophy of Voice" t (which I strongly recommend to every student of the art of singing or speaking) : " Voice production affects the pulpit, the platform, the forum, and the stage ; and the principles of restora- tion should be known to every national school teacher throughout the kingdom, and especially should they be known to every medical practitioner; for voice production embraces a far wider sphere than music, and penetrates where the latter never enters. It is said that ' prevention is better than cure ; ' by true use of voice, chest disease in many who have its tendency could be successfully warded off ; and this because a greater consumption of carbon takes place, quickening circulation, and hastening digestion ; so that true speakers and singers feel only hunger after work. Surely, as a question of health, the voice should be cultivated collaterally with the culture of words ; both spoken words and vocal tone should grow up together, but each power should be taught in its specific mode. While medical men have often recom- mended the healthful exercise of song, they have not (with rare excep- tions, I would remark), made their word of the worth it might be made, by troubling to go deeper into the question and deciding what work is right work ; this they should now do. We know how important it is to change the air we breathe, so that what we take in be not vitiated ; how much more important, then, that the air within us be pure, and not potable poison ; yet all cannot be thoroughly vitalised within us, unless we take violent bodily exercise or obtain true use of voice." Further on, Mr. Lunn states that, in his opinion, " the whole gist of study may be summed up thus : Hold the breath on deep inflations ; by ceasing to will to hold. Nature sets the instrument in accurate action ; let the involuntary pressure continue the sound ; and by repeated use in such manner, the instrument will, in time, become habituated to right action^ * Dr. Sliuldham, pp. 47, 48. t Baillifere, Tindal, & Cox, King William Street, Strand, London. Price is. 6d. Lfxt. v.] on elocution. 67 — a servant to our wills, instead of a tyrant crippling and frustrating our desires. It is strange that exactly at the same time German assumption was doing its utmost to destroy the little known in voice training, a medical man should be making experiments in Edinburgh, which ultimately resulted in the greatest scientific discovery affecting the science of voice production that has ever been put before the public, and which discovery conclusively supports, from a scientific point of view, the teaching of the ancient school of song. Dr. Wyllie's explana- tion of the use of the false cords and the ventricles gives the true solution to the right use of voice, the air in the ventricles acting some- what analogously to the air which a trumpet-player imprisons in his cheeks ; the greater reservoir of air keeps the lesser one always full, and the control of measured force from the greater is dependent upon the fulness of the less, this simply owing to the distribution of nerves. Now, no man can speak or sing with perfect self-possession and accurate response to will, unless he has masterful control over the respiratory apparatus ; and no man can have this control, unless his organs of voice be rightly used — a corroborative proof, being the connecting link between Dr. Wyllie on the one side and Senor Garcia on the other, is found in the fact that sound can be whispered at the false cords, the air escaping in an elongated hiss, while the true cords, being open, do not vibrate. The breath under these conditions is held back in sustained escape, and is consumed in about the same time as it would be consumed were a vocal tone accompanying it." * Dr. Shuldham's remarks on this subject are well worthy of being quoted. He says : " When the breath-taker wishes to convert the air stored within his lungs into musical sound or intelligent speech, then comes ' the tug of war ; ' the expiratory muscles are engaged in driving out musical air, whilst the inspiratory muscles are busy in making the expulsion as slow as possible ; there is a muscular antagonism going on, and this Dr. Mandl in his interesting work, ' L'Hygiene de la Voix,' calls the ' lutie vocal/e,'' or vocal contest. We can see, therefore, that to make the contest as even as possible, and as little fatiguing as possible, in speech or song, the abdominal breathing should be adopted, for this allows the lungs to be fully expanded without laying extra stress on the intercostal muscles, and lets the shock of this ' vocal contest ' fall on the soft parts of the abdomen, which yield to pressure, rather than letting all the violence of the ^ lutte vocaie' fall on the hard and less yielding structures of the bony thorax. If the pressure is taken off the chest-structures, other parts concerned in voice production will suffer less, as, for instance, the larynx and pharynx ; there will be consequently less fatigue of voice complained of by the use of abdominal breathing, and ' Clergyman's Sore Throat ' may be written about but not pre- scribed for. " In the exclusive use of the lateral method of breathing by the help of rib movements, or of the clavicular method, i.e., by the help of the collar-bones, we shall find that the ' vocal contest ' will make itself severely felt, and the evil consequences of these methods of breath- * Lunn's Philosophy of Voice, pp. 67, 68. 68 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. V. taking will be fatigue of voice, irritation of pharynx, aching of chest-walls, and oppression of breathing ; and these several symptoms will eventually lead, if the vicious method is persevered in, to hoarseness, congestion of pharyngeal mucous membrane, glandular inflammation in the whole vocal tract, partial lung congestion, asthma, and even heart disease. " Here is a sufficiently long train of ills which follow the use of badly- managed respiration. With the knowledge of these facts before us, is it not wise to use this knowledge and avert the disastrous results ? An incident in the life of Talma, the great French tragedian, is worth relating : it points a moral on the art of taking breath. It is quoted from M. Legouve's ' L'Art de la Lecture,' a little book full of interest and instruction to all who value the reader's art. It is as follows : — ' When Talma was still a young man, he was acting in Diderot's Pere de Famille. After the delivery of the celebrated passage, " An income of fifteen hundred a year, and my Sophie," he left the stage and went behind the scenes, exhausted, out of breath, and leaned against a side scene, panting like an ox. "Idiot !" said Mole, looking at him, "and you want to play tragedy ! Come and see me to-morrow morning, and I will teach you how to personate passion without getting out of breath."- Talma called on him, but whether the master failed in patience, or the pupil in docility, we cannot tell ; at any rate he only half profited by the lesson. About the same time there was an actor of the name of Dori- val, a ypare, weakly fellow, without any power of voice, yet nevertheless he played tragedy with a certain amount of success. " How can the wretch do it ? " said Talma ; " I am ten times as strong as he is, and yet he tries himself ten times as little as I do. I will ask him his secret." Dorival put off the question with the gently sarcastic reply, which, by the way, smacked somewhat of jealousy : " You are so successful, M. Talma, that you do not require any lessons." " I will make you give me some, for all that," whispered Talma to himself " ' One day, as Dorival was playing Chatillon in Zaire, the young man (Talma) hid himself — where do you think ? — in the prompter's box, so as to see and hear unobserved. There, crouched in obscurity like a "beast of prey in its den, he watched every movement, took note of it, looked, listened, and after the famous declamatory speech in the second act, left the box, exclaiming, " I have it, I have nailed him " {je Pat pince). What had he discovered? That Dorival's whole art consisted in a certain talent for taking breath before the lungs are completely emptied of air (I copy one of Talma's own notes) ; and to prevent the public from noticing these frequent inspirations, which would have marred the even tenor of his speech, and arrested the current of his emotions, he made use of them especially before the A, the E, and the O sounds, that is to say, at the time when his mouth being open, he was able to breathe lightly without the audience perceiving it.' " Talma might, it is true, fill his lungs completely and control the man- agement of his breat^h, but it is clear that he had by his observations only discovered part of the secret and <-he golden rule of all, the disclosure of which we owe to a great English tragedian, as we shall shortly see, and without which the right art of managing the Lect. v.] on elocution. 69 breath is only partially acquired, aj-jDears to have been unknown to the French tragedian." Dr. Shuldham's closing remarks in this chapter are well worthy of being quoted. "We see," he observes, "what an important part respira- tion plays in the art of speaking. Its rules are the only ones which should never be violated. The actor once launched forth in a passage full of movement, carried away by emotion, by anger, by tears, may forget the laws of punctuation, set aside full stops and commas, but he must always be master of his breath, even at the very time when he seems to lose it. A good actor has no right to be out of breath, except for dramatic effect. Talma had reduced all these rules to one emphatic maxim : ' The artist who fatigues himself is but an indifferent artist.' " * * Dr. Shuldham, pp. 50-53. LECTURE Vr. Testimony of ihe late Rev. A. S. Thelwall— Quotation from the Rev. J. Hewlett's Work on "Reading the Liturgy" — "The Great Secret" of Respiration, and the history of its transmission — Extracts from the recent Works of Mr. Sergeant Cox and Professor Frobisher — Sanitary advantages resulting from the Mode of Respira- tion here described— Testimony of George CatUn, the North American traveller — Emmanuel Kant and De Quincey — Causes and cure of "Clerical Sore-Throat — " Dr. Shuldham — Dr. Abbotts — Control of the Breath in Expiration— Opinions of Professor Hullah and Mr. Kingsbury — Summary rules for the management of respiration in Public Reading, Speaking, and Singing. OW, then, I come to a subject of paramount importance in every way, the right mode of managing the breath in speak- ing or reading. Nothing can be more hurtful to the pure quality of the voice, and nothing scarcely more injurious to the larynx and the lungs, than the habit of gasping in the air without any system or method by the open mouth. Take this as a golden rule, that the breath should, not merely when reading or speaking, though then I hold it indispensable, but at all times, and under all circumstances, be taken into the lungs only through the nostrils. I assure you most earnestly that if there be any tendency to disease or weakness of the hings or of the laryjtx, trachea, or bronchial tubes, the observance of this rule is of vital importance to health — nay, I am sure I am not going too far when I say it is in some extreme cases a matter almost of life or death. Believe me, that almost all the injury which clergymen and public speakers do themselves in the discharge of their duties in the church or on the platform, arises from this very common, but most erro- neous, habit of gasping or pumping in the air through the open mouth. This habit of taking in the air only through the nostrils has very great and very many advantages, and I have also reason to know, that this great but simple rule in respiration has not only been regarded in the light of a grand secret, but actually sold as such by some teachers of elocution under a promise — nay, in some cases under an oath of secrecy, as if it were peculiar to theinselves. I cannot do better here than read you a letter on the subject in my possession, written in the year 1861, by my late friend, the Rev. A. S. Thelwall, who was the first appointed Lecturer on Public Reading and Speaking in this College, and who ful- Lect. VI.] KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION 71 filled all the duties of his office here, from his appointment by the Council in the beginning of the year 1850, till his death fifteen years ago. The letter places the matter in its true light, and contains so many excellent hints that I make no apology for reading it to you in fiiU. " The importance of the habit of taking in the breath only through the nostrils, on which Mr. Brock insists in his letter of October 2, cannot be well overrated ; but I beg leave to observe, that though Mr. Broster might make a great secret of it, and exact a promise, if not an oath of secrecy, from those to whom he imparted it, the rule itself, for more than half a century, has been no secret. It was insisted upon by my late father, and imparted by him to all his pupils from the year 1802, when he first began to give instruction on elocution, really scientific, both by public lectures and by private lessons. I myself learned from him to form the habit at that early period, and I have adhered to it (and felt the very great advantage of so doing) ever since. I have imparted it to several of my brethren in private ; and in my Lectures at King's College (commencing in the beginning of the year 1850), T have always given it great prominence ; and I have explained the importance of it very fully, on what every medical man would acknowledge to be scientific principles. Moreover, I have openly expressed my conviction that this was the rule, which (as a great secret, and even under an oath of secrecy) was sold at a considerable price, not by Mr. Broster only, but (as I under- stand) by more than one teacher of elocution besides. Some medical men, looking at the subject on merely medical principles, and in a medical point of view, have seen the importance of the same rule, and enjoined the strict observance of it upon their patients; so that, in the medical profession, it has certainly been no secret. " I would add that (excellent and important as this rule is) there are other rules connected with it which need to be observed in order to insure the full benefit of it, — such as the taking and keeping of that position which is most favourable to the free and full inflation of the lungs ; and taking advantage of every legitimate pause to take in a fresh supply of air ; for, in whatever way the speaker may take in his breath, if he goes on speaking to the end of it, his speech will become both laborious and inaudible. Moreover, if he be not carefi'lly atten- tive to distinct articulation, the best mode of managing the breath will not suffice to make him intelligible to any large portion of his congre- gation. "In short, it ought to be well understood, that really good speaking depends on constant attention to various rules, and to agreat number of minute particulars. And at least nineteen persons out of every twenty require judicious instruction and careful training — and persevering ap- plication on their own part, — in order to make them good readers. I know by my own experience and observation that all these three things are indispensable — except in some very extraordinary cases. And it is a well-known historical fact, that the greatest orators have attained to excellence only by great exertions and persevering toil. So that, while it has been said, '■Foeta nascitiir, non fit,' it might almost be said, on the contrary, ' Orator fit, non ?iascitur.' He must, indeed, have some- 72 A'/NG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VI. thing in him for instruction and labour to work upon ; but Demosthenes was not born a rhetorician. — I remain, &c., "A. S. Thelwall." You notice here, that Mr. Thelwall speaks of this mode of conducting the process of respiration having for a long time been kept and sold as a great secret by certain teachers of elocution. The late Rev. J. H. Howlett, who was for many years Chaplain of Her Majesty's Chapel at Whitehall, and an excellent reader, published shortly before his death an admirable little work on clerical elocution, entitled " Instructions on Reading the Liturgy," and in the preface to it, at page 21,* occurs the following passage : — " A suggestion for diminishing the exhaustion produced by loud speaking, reading, and preaching has lately been brought into public notice, and is so very i77iportant that it ought to be made known to all who wish to acquire the best management of the voice, and it is this, inhale always through the nostrils, instead of through the open mouth. The breath, when drawn through the mouth, absorbs the saliva, and renders the palate and fauces dry and clammy. This unpleasant effect is commonly felt on awaking in the morning by those who sleep with their mouths open, either through a cold in the head, peculiar position in bed, or through natural obstruction in the nostrils. In the case of the speaker, reader, or preacher, the dryness of the mouth renders more exertion necessary and increases the fatigue. The cause of this fact was for many years not duly noticed, and the knowledge of it was the great secret, which became very profitable to a late eminent and successful teacher, who communicated it only under solemn promise that it would not be revealed." Mr. Howlett was one of my old and valued friends, and in the course of conversation once gave me the history of the origin and transmission of this "secret" in elocution, which, as I have never yet seen it in print, may not be uninteresting to you, if I take the oppor- tunity of relating. In the early part of the present century, there was a very eminent tragedian of the name of George Frederick Cooke, who at one time seemed likely to be a formidable rival even of John Kemble himself Among other qualifications for success in his profession, Cooke pos- sessed a singularly powerful, melodious, and expressive voice, which, even after great exertion on the stage, never showed any signs of hoarseness or symptoms of flagging, and this, too, although it was notorious he led a life by no means characterised by prudence or tem- ])erance. Eventually, the scandal his irregular life created drove him to America, where he died. His conduct had afienated nearly all his old friends ; but in his last illness he was attended and kindly cared for by a brother-actor of the name of Broster. Cooke, shortly before his death, while lamenting his lack of means to leave any pecuniary bequest as a proof of his gratitude for all Broster's care and kindness, told him that he yet thought he could leave him something, which, if well " worked," would be the means of bringing him a large remuneration. He then communicated to Broster the secret, telling him that he had found by * " Instructions on Reading the Liturgy." By the Rev. J. H. Howlett. T. Murby, 32 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street. Lect. VI.] ON ELOCUTION. 73- always carrying on respiration through the nostrils he avoided any sense of fatigue to the vocal organs, however arduous his performance, and believed it was the means by which he had been able to preserve all the power and compass of his voice. He then advised Broster to return to England, and adopt the profession of a teacher of elocution, and only communicate the secret to his pupils on the payment of a large fee and a solemn promise, if not an oath, that it never would be divulged by them. As soon as Cooke was dead, Broster followed his friend's advice, and came to this country and announced himself " Professor of Elocution," soon had a large ch'eniele, realised a handsome income, and eventually was able to retire upon an independence to the Isle of Wight, where he died. One of the students in my class here last year told me a curious circumstance connected with Broster, which I think will amuse you. My pupil said he had been mentioning to a very old friend, the widow of a clergyman, the account I had given him of Broster and his success, and which I have just now been relating to you, when she said, "Well, the next time you go to King's College, you can tell your Lecturer something more about Broster which he may not know. When my hus- band was a very young man, more than sixty years ago, and about to enter into holy orders, he went to Broster for the purpose of receiving from him lessons in elocution, when, before the secret was disclosed, Broster not only made him pay the heavy fee he demanded, and give the required pledge that it should never be revealed, but made him sign a bond that in the event of his ever becoming a Bishop he should pay a further fee of a Jumdred guineas, and this was a course, Broster said, which he adopted with all his clerical pupils ! " Shortly before his death, Broster imparted the secret to his friend, John Thelwall, who had been just then acquitted of a charge of sedition. Thelwall, therefore, relin- quished the troubled career of a political agitator in those stormy times, and betook himself to the more quiet life of a lecturer and teacher of elocution, and became very eminent and successful in his new voca- tion. He communicated the secret to his son, the late Rev. Algernon Sidney Thelwall, who on his father's death carried on his profession, and, as I told you, was the first lecturer on Public Reading and Speaking ever appointed in this College. From the first session he lectured within these walls,. he disclosed what was once guarded so rigidly to all his pupils, freely and unreservedly, deeming, as he said, this mode of always carrying on respiration to be so exceedingly important, not only as regarded elocution, but general health, that he desired to make it as widely known as possible. It was from Mr. Thelwall that I first acquired it ; and there is not a single advantage which he said would follow from adopting the practice that I cannot most heartily confirm. Indeed, the matter has now quite ceased to be a secret. In a very useful work written by Mr. Serjeant Cox, entitled " The Art of Writing, Reading, and Speaking," * I find in a passage treating on the right man- agement of the breath, at p. 96 of the second edition, the following remarks : — " There is an art in breathing properly, and it consists in breathing always through the nostrils, and not through the mouth. The * Published by Horace Cox, Wellington Street, Strand. 74 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VI. uses of breathing through the nostrils are many. The air is filtered in its passage by the hairs that line the nostrils, and the particles of dust floating about are thus prevented from touching the sensitive organs of the throat ; and you are saved many an inconvenient cough." (This remark of the author has gained additional significance and importance since the lecture on " Dust," recently delivered by Professor Tyndall at the Royal Institution, in which he expressed his belief that to the particles of dust floating about in the air of great cities, and often con- sisting of organic germs and the produce of decomposition, might be traced the origin of many zymotic diseases. If such disease-bearing particles can be arrested in their passage by the filtering apparatus which Nature has provided in the air-passages of the nostrils, and thus be prevented reaching more vital organs, I need not say how important it is that the mode of respiration I have spoken of should be always adopted.) Serjeant Cox then goes on to say :— " In breathing through the nostrils, the air traverses a small, long, and very warm tube before it reaches the windpipe, by which its temperature is raised to that of the delicate membrane on which it there impinges, and thus all inflamma- tion or even irritation is avoided. But if you breathe through the open mouth, the air rushes in, carrying with it impurities that make you cough by their contact with the mucous membrane, while the cold irritates the sensitive organs and produces temporary inconvenience, possibly pro- tracted illness. There is also another result of breathing through the mouth peculiarly unpleasant to readers and speakers, — the drying of the lips, tongue, and throat, which is the consequence of the contraction and closing of the salivary glands. Accustom yourself, therefore, to breathe always through the nostrils." The passages by which the air entering by the nostrils at the external orifices passes out at the pos- terior nares into the lungs, are shown by the illustration on the opposite page, for which I am indebted to Dr. Gordon Holmes, the author of an excellent work on "Vocal Physiology," published last year.* It is also perfectly certain that the once "great secret," as Mr. Thel- wall calls it in his letter, is now widely known and practised on the other side of the Atlantic ; for very recently I had a work sent me from New York, on "Voice and Action," by Professor J. E. Frobisher, who is, I am informed, considered to be the most eminent teacher of elocution in that city, and it happened rather curiously that, on opening the book as soon as it reached my hands, the first passage my eye lighted on was the following, at p. 60 : — " As soon as possible learn to breathe always through the nostrils instead of the mouth, as this process will never parch the throat or cause any irritation. This manner of breathing will dilate the nasal cavities, strengthen the muscles of the nostrils, keep the lungs perfectly healthy, and wonderfully improve the quality of the voice. Even when walking, especially if moving rapidly, learn to keep the mouth y?r;///y sJmt and breathe exrlusively through the nostrils. Lung and even other diseases are brought on more frequently from an open mouth, particularly when sleeping, than from almost any other cause. By putting the mind upon it with a detennination to succeed, • Churchill & Co. Lect. VI.] ON ELOCUTION. the habit of keeping it shut can be acquired both for waking and sleep- ing hours ; for the results of what is resolutely done in the ofie time will then unconsciously be carried into the other. There is, too, 2i philosophy in this breathing process, that perhaps need not be explained in a work of this character." The "philosophy of this breathing process," to which Professor Frobisher alludes, is, I imagine, the same as that arrived at by the late Mr. George Catlin, the well-known author of so many works, recording Fig. 12. his travels and adventures among the North American Indians. His last work was one which was published under the title of "The Breath of Life," ■'' — an(;l a very curious work it is in many respects. The author states, in his introduction to his book, that it is generally known in the reading portion of the world that he has devoted the greater part of his long life to visiting and recording the habits, customs, and appearances * Published by Triibner & Co., Ludgate Hill. 76 ICING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VI. presented by the various native races of North and South America ; and that during those researches, observing the healthy condition and physical perfection of those tribes in their primitive state, as contrasted with the deplorable mortality, the numerous diseases, as well as deformities, in civilised communities, he was led to search for, and has been able, he believes, to discover the main cause leading to such different results. He further states, that during his various ethnographic labours amongst these wild people, he has visited no less than a hundred and fifty diffe- rent tribes, containing more than two millions of souls ; and therefore has had in all probability more extensive opportunities than any other man living of examining their sanitary system, and, if from those examinations, he has arrived at results of importance to the health and existence of mankind, he will have achieved a double object in a long and toilsome life, and will enjoy a twofold satisfaction in making them known to the world, and particularly to the medical faculty, who, he hopes, may turn them to good account. Tne summary of Mr. Catlin's conclusions may be briefly stated to be the following : — that those tribes, where they have not contracted habits of intemperance and other vices from contact with the white man, are distinguished by remarkable health and vigour ; that they are free from consumption, bronchitis, and other diseases of the respiratory organs ; that they seem to have a singular immunity from fevers and infectious diseases, and preserve their teeth sound and white to extreme old age — and all these blessings, these wild children of nature believe, and Mr. Catlin expresses his conviction that they are right in that belief, they owe to the habit in which they are strictly brought up from the earliest infancy, of always breathing through the nostrils only — indeed, he says he has seen repeatedly an Indian mother watching her infant as it slept in its cradle by her side, and carefully pressing its lips to- gether if by any chance they were apart, so as to secure the habit in her progeny, which enables them, as far as regards healih and vigour^ to command, to use the author's own language, the envy and admiration of the world. Conversing with these tribes, among whom Mr. Catlin moreover says he never met with a case of idiotcy, deafness, dumbness, neuralgia, curvature of the spine, or other deformity, he found that this mode of breathing was universal with them all, and the reasons given by them lor its adoption are, in Mr. Catlin's opinion, so sound and cogent as to be quite unanswerable. In substance they are as follows : — Man's cares and fatigues of the day become a daily disease, for which quiet refresh- ing sleep is a cure. The all-wise Creator has so constructed him that his breathing apparatus supports him, if rightly used, through that sleep, like a perfect machine, regulating the circulation of the blood, and the digestive functions, and carrying repose and rest from the brain to the extremity of every limb ; and for the protection and healthy working of the whole machine throughout the hours of repose. He has furnished him with nostrils intended for properly measuring and regulating the temperature of the air that keeps alive the moving principle and fountain of life; and, in proportion as the quieting and restoring influence of the Lect. VI.] ON ELOCUTION. 77 lungs in sleep, when the air reaches them only through the passages of the nostrils, is carried to each organ and limb of the frame, so the very reverse is the case when the individual has the habit of sleeping and receiving the air into his lungs directly by the open mouth. There is no animal in nature, excepting civilised man, that sleeps with the mouth open ; and this usually is the case where his earher life has been passed amid enervating luxuries and unnatural warmth at night, when the injurious habit is easily contracted. The physical conforma- tion of man alone affords sufficient proof that this is a habit against nature and instinct; and that he was made, like other animals, to sleep with his mouth shut, supplying the lungs with vital air through the nostrils, the natural channels ; and the strongest corroboration of this fact, says Mr. Catlin, is met with among the North American tribes, who, strictly adhering from earliest infancy to nature's law in this respect, show the beneficial results in their fine and manly forms, and their exemption from some of the worst and most fatal forms of physical and mental disease. The mouth of man was made for the reception of sustenance and the production of speech ; but the nostrils, with their delicate and fibrous linings for purifying and warming the air in its passage, have been marvellously constructed and designed to stand guard, as it were, over the lungs, to measure the air and equalise its draughts alike in our hours of waking life as in those of repose. The atmosphere, charged as it often is with noxious particles of various kinds, is, in fact, nowhere pure enough for man's breathing till it has been passed through this mysterious, refining process ; and therefore the imprudence and danger of admitting it in an unnatural w-ay in undue quantities upon the lungs, and charged, it may be, with the surrounding epidemic or other infections of the moment, must be beyond all question. But the impurities of the air are arrested by the intricate organisation and natural secretion of the nostrils, and most frequently thrown out again immediately by the returning passage of the breath ; and the air which thus enters the lungs by the nostrils is as different to that which reaches them by the open mouth as filtered water is from that in an ordinary pond or cistern. Mr. Catlin goes on to say that he firmly believes if this mode of respiration were only as universal amongst us as it is amongst the wild tribes with whom he spent so many years of his life, we should soon find a wonderful diminution of those unhappily now most frequent and fatal maladies — consumption, bronchitis, quinsy, croup, and other diseases of the respiratory organs, as well as a marked improvement in the general health and vigour of the people. He concludes his v/ork by giving the results of his own personal experience, stating that until the age of thirty-four he was of very feeble health, which his friends and physicians believed to be the result of disease of the lungs, and that up to that time he had been in the habit of breathing, whether sleeping or waking, as often by the open mouth as not. At that age he abandoned the profession he was following and devoted himself to exploring the vast wildernesses of America and their native inhabitants. Here it was that he first 'earnt what is the only proper mode of carrying •jS A'liVG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [I,ect. VI. on respiration, and declares that since he has acquired tlie habit of the Indians of breathing always exclusively by the nostrils, he has, though sleeping often for nights together in the open air during his wanderings, exposed to the vicissitudes and changes of temperature of widely diffe- rent latitudes, enjoyed, up to the time of writing his book, a robust vigour of health, and freedom from all aches and pains, to which he was, previously to acquiring the habit, an entire stranger; and he winds up by stating that the one sole motive which he has in publishing his book is, that he may make others acquainted with all the advantages which he has derived, and the simple, easy, and yet most important means by which he is firmly convinced all those advantages were gained. The subject of Elocution is never once named, nor even incidentally glanced at, by the author throughout his whole work, and it is confined exclusively to all the sanitary advantages which he asserts will be gained, and the ills that will be avoided, by always using nature's own respirator (far superior to any artificial instrument), the nostrils, for the purpose of supplying the lungs with the requisite amount of air. It is certainly rather curious to find these uncivilised children of nature thus carrying out a mode of breathing systematically, because they believe it to be attended by so many and great advantages ; and to find the very same process, until comparatively a recent date, jealously kept as one of the refinements of Art, as a secret in Elocution, and sold as such at a considerable fee. I can only say that my own experience is quite in accordance with Mr. Catlin's. I was more than thirty years of age when the late Mr. Thelwall communicated to me the once " great secret." Previously to that I was very liable, especially in winter, to attacks of cold, sore throat, hoarseness, and sometimes a complete loss of voice. But since follow- ing Mr. Thelwall's advice, and carrying on respiration as he directed, invariably by the nostrils, I can most truly say, although for about eleven months in the year I am using my voice, morning, noon, and night, in lecturing or reading in public, or giving instruction in Elocution to pupils, and consequently submitting the alleged advantages of this mode of respiration to no slight test, I am never conscious of any sense of heat, dryness, or fatigue in the vocal or speech organs ; and the only effect of prolonged vocal exercise with me, is just that healthy appetite which would and ought to follow any physical exertion that is beneficial to the 'system. Exposed as I am, too, to constant sudden changes of temperature in going from heated or crowded rooms into the cold night air of winter, I scarcely, if ever, get the least cold, and never a cough ; and all this I attribute entirely to my having been taught to use " nature's respirator," the nostrils only, in the act of breathing. Dr. Shuldham, in his "Clergyman's Sore Throat"* (pp. 58, 59), says, in reference to the alleged advantages of wearing moustache and beard: — " We cannot help thinking that too much importance has been attached to these append- ages as respirators, and too little given to that common respirator of the human race, the nose. The beard is an accident of sex, nay, it is an accident of individual capacity for hair growing ; but nature has * Gould & Son, Moorgate Street, London, i2mo, price 2s. 6d. I Lect. VI ] OiV ELOCUTION. 79 been generous enough to give to all her children a nose. . . . The. nose, then, being a common gift to all the human race, it must serve some good purpose ; it was not made for purely ornamental conditions. The nose, in addition to its capacities as an organ of smell, was given us to breathe through, both for taking in and letting out air ; it warms cold air, it purifies doubtful air ; and this is all we can expect or hope for from the respirator. Let us, then, cultivate the art of breathing through the nose." Again, Dr. Abbots, in his work on " Stammering and Stuttering," says at p. 29: — "The mouth has its own distinct functions to perform, namely, in connection with eating, drinking, and talking ; in other words, to serve as a means of ingress for food, and of egress for the sound of the voice. The nostrils, on the other hand, with their beautifully designed passages and their various recesses, lined by a highly vascular fibro-mucous membrane, are destined for the purposes of smelling (through the numerous branches of the olfactory nerve distributed in the nasal fossae) and of respiration. If this last-named fact were generally under- stood and properly appreciated, we should have a vast diminution in the number of cases of sore throat, cough, and various serious affections of the lungs ; cases of temporary, often passing into permanent, deaf- ness, would also be less frequent than they now are ; caries, and other affections of the teeth, would, I believe, be rare, as compared with their present frequency, if people breathed through the nostrils." Mr. Catlin also expresses his belief that stammering may be frequently traced to a nervous hesitation and vibration of the under jaw when brought up from its habitual hanging position in persons who keep the mouth open, to perform its part in articulation.* There is but one more authority I will cite in reference to this subject, and that is the great German metaphysician, Emmanuel Kant. In De Quincey's "Last days of Emmanuel Kant," at pp. 114, 115, you will find the following passage : — " After dinner Kant always went out for walking exercise ; but on these occasions he never took any companion ; partly, as I happen to know, for this very peculiar reason — that he wished to breathe exclusively through his nostrils, which he thought he could not do so well if he were obliged continually to open his mouth in conversation. His reason for this was, that the atmospheric air, being thus carried round by a longer circuit, and reaching the lungs therefore in a state of less rawness and at a temperature somewhat higher, would be less apt to irritate them. By a steady perseverance in this practice, which he recommended con- stantly to all his friends, he flattered himself that he might enjoy a long immunity from coughs, hoarseness, catarrhs, and all modes of pulmon- ary derangement ; and the fact really was, that these troublesome affec- tions attacked him but very rarely. Indeed, I myself, by adopting only occasionally this rule, have found my own chest not nearly so liable as formerly to such attacks." I have dwelt thus fully on the right mode of managing respiration, not only in public reading and speaking, but at all times, sleeping and * Pitman, Gower Street, 1879. 8o KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VI. waking, because I deem it to be of such vital importance to every class of the community, but especially to public speakers, preachers, barristers, readers, lecturers, actors, and singers ; for of all such professions it may in most cases literally be said that the voice is " the means whereby they live," and to lose the voice, or have its quality impaired by hoarseness, is for the time frequently to lose the very means of subsistence. If there is a way by which the voice may be preserved, unimpaired in power and compass, even to a very advanced period of life, and the general health and vigour of the system maintained as well, surely it will be the wiser course for every man and woman to try persistently to adopt it, until by practice it has become an unconscious habit, carried out upon all occasions ? And now for the easy and simple modes by which the air may be made always to reach the lungs by the passage of the nostrils. There are two. Of course, when we are silent and the lips are closed as they should always be, easily, but yet firmly, when we are not using the voice, the air can only enter the lungs by the nostrils ; and this happily is the way in which the generality of us are accustomed to breathe ; for it is not very often, I think, that we meet with individuals who are always seen with the mouth more or less open. To say nothing of the irresolute, vacant, idiotic look which such a habit always gives the countenance, 1 can certainly, from my own observation of such cases, assert that such persons always have a tendency to hesitation, stammering, or other impediments of speech, or the voice is wanting in purity and clearness of tone, and there is a constant liability to colds, coughs, and other bronchial affections. But those persons who always, when silent, keep the lips closed, and so consequently breathe through the nostrils, are yet (unless they have been made acquainted with the art) generally in the habit, when they are called upon to speak in public or read aloud, of breathing by the open mouth, and even in this mode inadequately filling the lungs with air, and replenishing them on no kind of system. Dryness of the mouth, soreness of the throat (most frequently that form of inflammation termed "clerical sore throat"), hoarseness of voice, and a general sense of fatigue and exhaustion after prolonged and continued efforts of this nature, soon make them aware that something is wrong. Now, none of these ill effects would have been experienced if they had had recourse to the second method of supplying the lungs with air by the nostrils, which is this :— There is no occasion at the end of every sentence, or during the various pauses in a long sentence, to stop and close the lips, and then to take the breath by the nostrils ; for if done to any great extent in this way, it is apt to be heard even at some little distance, and the sound is not agreeable. But if at the moment of taking in the breath, the upper surface of the tongue is just pressed gently but firmly against the middle part of the hard palate, it serves in that posi- tion as a barrier to prevent the passage of any air beyond. Then if the head and neck are very slightly drawn back, and the chest is properly expanded, a large amount of air enters by the nostrils, and in a very few seconds completely fills the lungs quite inaudibly ; for not a sound should be heard even by the nearest bystanders. — This is the " great secret " { Lect. VI.] ON ELOCUTION. 8i that was sold at such a heavy price by the older elocutionists to their pupils. But in order to inspire the requisite amount of air quietly, inaudibly, and yet effectually, the inspiratory effort should not be made with the external orifices of tlie nostrils, but at the back of the posterior nares, where the canal opens into the pharynx. By the former passage it is scarcely possible to avoid the inspiratory effort being both seen and heard, but by the latter the inspiration is as inaudible as it is invisible. Here, perha^DS, as much as in anything, the old motto ^^ ars celare artem" holds good ; and a little practice may at first be required by some in order to acquire "the art to hide the art." But a single personaliWw^- tration of the way in which this ought to be done, shown you by an experienced teacher of Elocution is worth far more than any mere verbal explanation of the process ; and such, each student amongst you in these King's College Classes will have from me when we come at the close of this course of Lectures to our individual practical lessons in the arts of public reading and speaking. Professor John Hullah, who has for so many years filled the office of Professor of Vocal Music in this College, and after a long term of honourable service has only this year resigned, published lately a very useful little manual, forming one of the Clarendon Press Series, entitled ■'The Cultivation of the Speaking Voice."* There are some excellent remarks in it on that which is equally important to the public speaker, reader, and singer, viz., respiration, which I may well quote in this part of my lecture : " Though Respiration," says Professor Hullah, " must be made at intervals not infrequent, whether the voice be active or passive, the conditions under which it has to be made are not in both instances the same. When the vocal mechanism is at rest, respiration is made regularly: the lungs are filled with air, and emptied again at about equal intervals of time. But during speaking or singing this is not so : /aspiration and ifjcpiration must then {both of them) be regulated in extent, as well as in frequency, by the length and construction of the phrases, rhetorical or musical, or both, which have to be said or sung. Not only is the art of taking breath at certain intervals physically neces- sary, but when those intervals are dictated by the matter to be uttered, it may, of itself , become a powerful means of expression, and itself add largely to the force and clearness, whether of oratory or of song. The action of the lungs during speaking or singing would seem to differ from their action when the voice is at rest, chiefly in this: — that in the latter condition (as we have seen) inspiration and expiration are made at, or nearly at, equal intervals of time ; whereas in the former the act of /aspiration should be made as quickly as possible " (consistently with thorough inflation of the lungs, I would add) " and ^.rpiration as slowly as possible. The first of these acts, though demanding some care, is not hard of attainment ; the second, deliberate and controlled expiration, is somewhat more so. Both will be rendered easier, if we consider that the animal economy is as well cared for when expiration is the cause of sound as when it is not. Every particle of air, therefore, which a speaker or singer (in action) exhales silefitly is tvasted — is some- * Macmillan & Co., Clarendon Press, Oxford. F 82 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VI. thing taken from the power and volume and ease of his utterance. As the sound of the violin reaches the ear the instant the bow of the skiltul violinist touches the string, so should that of the voice at the instant expiration — the bowing oi the vocalist— begins ; no interval of time being left during which air may escape from the lungs, without being turned to account in the production of sound. Many speakers and readers, and even singers, disregard this ; having taken breath, they give some of it out again before their utterance cofumences, — obviously with a loss of power." I would summarise, then, all that I think can be said upon this branch of the subject in the following practical directions : — Remember, in order to ensure personal ease and fluent utterance, that the lungs must receive in the way I have described a volume of air much greater than that which is taken in, in ordinary respiration. You must also avail yourselves of the opportunity afforded by grammatical or rhetorical pauses, which I shall explain hereafter, and always at the full stop which marks the close of a sentence replenish the lungs by taking in a fresh supply of air ; for if, neglecting this regular and systematic replenishment of the lungs, you go on reading or speaking to the very end of your breath, you will find not only that your utterance becomes both laborious and feeble, but you will produce much less effect, with very much more of physical exhaustion, which, to say the least of it, is very bad economy. I think it is always best before beginning to read or speak in public to thoroughly inflate the lungs by a full, deep inspiration, and then by replenishment at the proper pauses to keep up the normal amount of air within the lungs as far as possible. I need not, I am sure, stop to dilate at any great length upon the proper management of the breath in the act of expiration, being an essential element of Elocution, and, like the act of inspiration, an all- important consideration. The breath being, as I have shown you, the primary cause of vocal sound, and the lungs being nature's reservoir for the reception of air, and containing only a certain amount of it propor- tionate to their depth and extent, it is most incumbent on the speaker or reader to know how to economise, as it were, and make the most varied and effective use of that supply. Besides the personal sense of fatigue that will follow from an error in this respect, too large a stream of breath exercises an injurious influence on the pitch and quality of the voice, and, moreover, tends to destroy all purity and delicacy of tone, by the very efforts which are made to sustain the art of expiration. In dwelling upon this portion of my subject, I do not think I can do better than quote the remarks of Mr. Kingsbury,* because, though his work professedly refers to singing only, yet in this respect all that he says applies with equal force and propriety to reading aloud and speak- ing : " Although we all know that in the common operation of breathing the air passes out of the lungs as quickly as it passes into them, yet it cannot too much be insisted upon that in singing" (and in reading aloud also, I would observe parenthetically) "the lungs must acquire the power to control the passage outwards of the breath ; that is, instead * Kingsbury, " On the Voice." Lect. VI.] ON ELOCUTION. 83 of the quick, gushing exhalation, as in breathing, the stream of breath must be rendered as small as possible, so that the sound may not only be prolonged, but that, too, with a degree of clearness of tone and com- pleteness of control indispensable to perfect vocalisation. The diffe- rence will be at once evident by trying to produce a sound, emitting the breath as in the act of breathing, and it will be found that although the larynx may have been placed in the vocalising position, yet the sound will be of a disagreeable, husky quality, and of very short duration, for the lungs will have become exhausted almost instantaneously.- If, on the contrary, the process be repeated at the same time that we endeavour to prolong the outward passage of the breath, the result will be a clearer and purer quality of vocal sound, together with a much augmented power of sustaining it. "The vocal sound, then, does not require a large stream of breath, and I shall only give one example more in this place tending to show the advantages of a modified form of using it. "A practised reader takes breath but seldom, and yet what a number of words he will pronounce, sentence after sentence, in the same breath ; and when he does replenish the reservoirs within, it is done so quickly and quietly as to be almost imperceptible. "This is equally required in speaking and singing, for all are per- formed by the same physical means ; with this only difference, that in singing, the changes of articulation not being generally so frequent or so rapid, the vocal sound to compensate for this should be caused to dwell upon the vowal of the syllable or word expressed : thus the singer substitutes sustained sound for that which the speaker uses in more rapid succession ; the reader, speaker, and singer alike requiring but a small stream of breath to effect a clear and elegant enunciation. " Enough has been said, it is now hoped, to show the desirability of economising the breath in the production of the vocal tone. The pupil may rest assured that there is nothing so pernicious to the true develop- ment of the vocal sound or tone as a too profuse expenditure of breath. The smaller the stream the better, if it is the wish to acquire a really good tone, and likewise the facility of prolonging it." These, then, are the remarks of Mr. Kingsbury, and of the sound- ness of the principles contained in them I am thoroughly convinced. One of the modes by which the supply of breath is wasted, instead of being economised^ I continually observe in the pupils I have had under my care, and it consists in the following error. Instead of seizing the sound, as it were, and articulating the very instant the mouth opens, the lips are suffered to remain apart for a few seconds before the pupil begins actually to read or speak. By this mistake much valuable breath is lost, and the sound of the voice most seriously injured in quality, to say nothing of the personal fatigue and speedy exhaustion caused by this erroneous habit. And now, as a means of fixing the rules I have been laying down firmly in your minds, I will practically illustrate my remarks to you by reading some few selections, with articulation clear and distinct enough, but committing the errors I have been warning you against. You will, I think, find by the great care I shall bestow 84 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. [Lect. VI. on the articulation of each word, I shall be perfectly audible even in the remotest part of this hall, but you will perceive in my reading that all the mistakes I am now pointing out and warning you against, have precisely the same results. Whether I only half fill my lungs with air, or whether I take the inspiration by the mouth, or whether I suffer the lips to be open for a second or two before I begin to read or speak, I shall equally injure the fulness of tone. What musicians call roundness of voice will be in a great measure gone ; it will sound comparatively thin and flat, and you will hear that the power of conveying with any- thing like due effect the various passions or emotions portrayed in the piece which I am about to read, is almost entirely destroyed. I will then read the same passage, taking care to inflate the lungs adequately, and properly economise the supply of breath I have thus obtained, and you will hear how very differently the whole of it will sound.* I am inclined to think that these occasional practical illustrations in my own person, as I proceed with my course of Lectures, will serve materially to explain my reasoning, and tend perhaps more than anything else to fix the principles I am laying down firmly in your memories. * A passage from one of Buike's speeches was here read by way of illuslralion. «m M 1 i ^K^^ 1 i/'^^s § LECTURE VII. Analysis of the elements of the Human Voice — Professor Hullah's suggestions in regard to the best mode of Developing and Cultivating the Speaking Voice — Different degrees of Aperture of the Mouth and the Shape taken by the Lips for the pure Sound of the different Vowels — Herr Georges' method of ascertaining these — Illustration of the positions of the Lips, by Signor Lanza — Classification of Voices — Causes of the different Classes of Voices — Philosophy of Sound and its Phenomena — Chladni's Experiments — Causes that produce the different degrees of Intensity of Sound, Pitch, Tone, and Timbre — Range of Human Perception in regard to Sound — The Telephone, Phonograph, Microphone, Phoneidoscope, and Audiphone — Difference between Sound and Noise — Resemblance and differ- ences between the Music of Speech and the Music of Song. fE have now, I hope, arrived at a fair understanding of the marvellous mechanism and process by which the human voice is produced. Let us next proceed to analyse the subject of voice in some degree at least, and inquire of what its elements consist. It is obvious that words are composed of vowels and consonants, and very rarely of vowels only. "Though it be not without exception true," remarks Professor Hullah, in the work I mentioned in my last lecture, " that consonants have no individual phonetic existence, it is certain that vowels have ; that consonants are practically initiatory, distributive, or interruptory only, indeed, altogether dependent on vowels ; and that of necessity, there- fore, vowels are pre-eminently the soiinds of speech (consonants being rather the noises) and form the sole element in it which admits of any appreciable variety of pitch, duration, intensity, or timbre. As it is in the utterance of voivels alone that we can estimate the voice, whether of speaker or singer, so it must be through their instrumentality exclusively, in the first instance, that we can hope to develop its sweetness and power, whether in speaking, reading, or singing. Not only so : on one vowel only is the tijnbre of the human voice to be heard in its highest perfection, the vowel A, as pronounced in the English word 'Father.' During the perfect utterance of this vowel, the teeth will be at least sufficiently apart to admit of the insertion of a finger between them : the tongue will lie along the bottom of the mouth, its tip resting on tho lower teeth, and forming a curve corresponding to that presented by the roof of the mouth. If the teeth be not sufficiently apart, the timbre 86 AYA^G'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VII. will want resonance and openness ; if the tongue be not sufficiently advanced, or if it approach the roof of the mouth too nearly, it will also want purity, — become guttural or nasal. This last imperfection may likewise be produced by extravagant retrocession of the corners of the lips. " Recent physiological researches have justified the choice of the long open A, not merely as the vowel on which the voice is heard to the greatest advantage, but also as that on which, with a view to its improve- ment, it should be most frequently exercised. Professor Willis has shown that by setting a reed in a state of vibration, and gradually elongating the tube which augments and governs its sounds, a series of sounds closely resembling in their timbre the vowels E A (narrow, as in the word day) A (open) O and 00, as in the word coo — is produced. In like manner, the tube which augments and governs the vocal mechanism — the mouth — is, so to speak, elongated as the vowels are uttered in the above order; />., more and more of it is brought into operation, E being formed at the back of the mouth ; 00 at the most advanced part of it, indeed by the lips almost exclusively, whilst the open A proceeds from the centre, where the utmost resonance is possible. This discovery not only justifies the choice of the open A as the vowel on which the voice should be first and most exercised ; but also suggests the order in which the practice of the other vowels should be taken up. As the open A is formed in the central position of the oval tube, so are O and the narrow A in that nearest to it, the former involving the employment of more of the tube than the latter. " To the utterance of these vowels on the dominant notes — those nearest to the middle of his voice — now fully sustaining them, now attacking them suddenly and quitting them in like manner, at various degrees of intensity, the student should devote a good deal of his time and his very best attention. He should begin with, and often return to the practice of, the open A ; begin with it because it is the easiest, and return to it because experience has shown it to be the most useful. The practice of the open A had best be followed by that of O, and that of O by that of the narrow A, 00 had better follow, and E, incomparably the most difficult, be attacked last. The maintenance of the proper degree of adjustment of the variable cavity of the mouth and lips may be tested from time to time by the eye, with the aid of a looking-glass ; and that of the pitch, by an occasional reference to a musical instru- ment." So much for the judicious remarks of Professor HuUah. Whilst we are considering the different vowels, or, in other words, the elements of voice, a most important subject, for on them only can inflection and modulation take place in elocution, and the different notes of the musical scale in song. I may mention here, that a very excellent and ingenious German teacher of singing, Herr Georges, has lately brought into notice a simple mechanical instrument which he has invented, and used with great success among his pupils, for the purpose of making them acquainted with the different degrees of aperture which the mouth should have for the pure formation of the different Lect. VII.] ON ELOCUTION. 87 vowels, which, I need hardly repeat, ought to be formed, so far as regards purity of sound, exactly in the same manner, whether in song or in elocution. The instrument is a little ivory wedge, of the size and shape sub- joined. Fig. 13- The mode in which it is to be used is to apply it to the position of an upright triangle, as in the illustration. The notched line may be called the hypotenuse. The distances for the various degrees of aperture of the mouth are measured by the perpendiculars, from any given point in the hypotenuse to the base of the wedge. The latter is inserted between the upper and lower front teeth, and the teacher determines the respective distances for the various vowels ; for, as we all know, the size of the human mouth varies very much in different individuals, and the notch that would suit one person for the pure production of a given vowel, such, for instance, as the open A, would not suit another if his mouth were materially larger or smaller. The ear and judgment of the master, therefore, must determine what notch in the wedge is proper for each pupil. As a general rule, the scale subjoined will hold good in most instances. The open A. as in the word " father," should, as Professor Hullah says, be the first vowel practised, and for its pure formation the range is from notch lo to 14. The position of the tongue and other particulars have already been given in my quotation from Professor's Hullah's little work. For the vowel O, as in the word " rose," the variation in the opening of the mouth is from notch 8 to 12. In its pure production, moreover, the lips assume a globular or elliptical shape, something like the form of the letter itself, and also slightly protrude. The position of the mouth in the production of O is particularly favourable for resonance, as the cavity obtained is neither too small nor too large. In the true formation of this vowel, the tongue is somewhat raised and slightly drawn back, remaining in a spread position, and the edges of the upper and lower teeth require just to be visible, in order to prevent the soft substance of the lips from absorbing the sound. The shape of the mouth being ascertained, great care should be taken to continue the form during the whole time the vowel is dwelt on. This remark holds good, indeed, with icgard to all the vowel sounds ; lor the slightest deviation is felt, E being very liable to merge into the narrow A, and the open A into O, and I into E, and a very minute change in the KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VI L opening of the mouth or the position of the tongue or lips will effect this modification. In the formation of the narrow A. or in the gamut of long E, which is sounded like A in the word "pale," the range of the wedge is from notch 4 to 6, and in its formation the lips have to be fairly open and extended a little laterally ; the apex of the tongue is raised towards the hard palate, and its tip pressed gently against the lower front teeth. In the production of E, or in the gamut I, and pronounced like ee in the word " see," the form of the mouth resembles that of a narrow A, in speech, or E in the gamut, but the lips, however, require to be more laterally extended and the tongue raised a little higher. It is said to be the most troublesome of all the vowels to form quite purely, and very apt to merge into the sound of others ; but it only requires a little attention to the right mode of its production, and perseverance in its practice, to easily overcome the difficulty which its formation presents. Last of all, we come to the vowel U, in the gamut sounded as oo in the word " moon," and for its proper formation the range of the wedge is from notch 6 to 8 ; and the most eminent teachers advise that its right sound should be acquired by taking first O, and, as it were, gliding into it, by protruding the lips a little more, narrowing the aperture of the mouth, and drawing down the tongue. If the formation of these vowels be carefully studied and practised, the ear will soon become sufficiently tramed to acquire easily every modification of vowel sound that the right pronunciation of words may require, whether in speech or song. You will have noticed that for the pure sound of the different vowels to be heard, it is not merely sufficient that the mouth should be open to the requisite degree, but the proper position of the lips must also be borne in mind. The subjoined illustrations, designed by the celebrated Italian Mi Si Fig. 14. \ singing master, Signor Gesualdo Lanza, and for which I am indebted to Herr Georges, will serve to show what these positions are. Lect. VII.] ON ELOCUTION. 89 The voice of the pupil in the art of singing is formed and developed by what is termed the practice of the solfeggio, that is, by the formation of these vowels purely, and then sustaining them in a certain prescribed manner upon that scale of notes which in music is called the gamut. By a modification of the principle may the voice of the pupil in the art of elocution be formed and developed where it is impure, weak, or defective in the way suggested by Professor Hullah in his able little work on the cultivation of the speaking voice, and for this purpose he appends to his treatise a series of tables of words, consisting of vowels and consonants, specially adapted to such an end. In this place I may as well, perhaps, mention that voices are classified in each sex under three principal descriptions — in men, the bass, the baritone, and the tenor ; in women, the contralto, the mezzo- soprano, and the soprano. The bass, which is the lowest voice in the scale, surpasses all others usually in volume and power, but is apt to be wanting in richness or roundness of tone. Next above in the scale we have the baritone, which would seem to be the normal male voice, and is generally found to be characterised by the most compass, flexibility, and timbre. Lastly comes the tenor, the highest in the Scale, and the smoothest and most tender and delicate in quality. The contralto is the lowest female voice, and full and rich in quality. The mezzo-soprano is the next in the scale above, and is to woman what the baritone is to man. As a rule, the baritone and the mezzo-soprano voices preserve their power, tone, and compass longer than any others, and instances are recorded of their having done so long after the age of threescore years and ten. It is a somewhat perplexing question to decide which of the class of voices above enumerated should be considered as the most perfect ; but most physiologists and musicians give the preference in males to the baritone, and in females to the mezzo-soprano, as being the most expres- sive generally, as well as the most serviceable and permanent. Dr. Hunt asserts that all these various descriptions of voices depend, mainly, both on the dimensions and length of the vocal cords, but other circumstances must, however, be taken into consideration. It is certain, at all events, that an elastic ligament of a certain thickness will yield a deeper tone than a hgament of the same length and tension, but thinner in structure. The physiologist Harless found on examination that the vocal cords of old people are much thinner in proportion to their length than those of children, whose vocal cords are much thicker. Moreover, the character of the voice is besides determined by the elastic capacity of the vocal cords. There can be no question but that stretched liga- ments must, cceteris paribus, yield a higher normal sound than slackened ones, and it is chiefly upon this difference that the varieties of bass, baritone, and tenor depend in men, and contralto, mezzo-soprano, and soprano depend in women. Merkel, a name of high authority that I have quoted before, states that the vocal cords of high tenors and sopranos are generally thinner, proportionately, though not narrower, than those of bass and contralto voices. 90 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VII. It may be interesting' to you to know what are ihc physical requisites that, taken collectively, may be said to constitute the ideal of perfection, and if the intellect, judgment, imagination, and taste be of equal excellence, to form the highest type of public speaker, reader, or singer. The physical requisites, then, are these, according to the best medical and scientific authorities : — a large, well-developed, and elastic chest ; lungs well-proportioned in size and sound, and healthy in condition : neck of proper dimensions and muscular, but not too long ; the thyroid gland sufficiently developed to receive the disposable blood, and to sustain the exercise of the voice without any hoarseness or sense of fatigue, nor should it be in a state of hypertropy, for if it is so, the gland then presses unduly upon the veins of the neck, and renders the movements of the larynx more difficult The larynx itself should be rather above the average size. The two portions of the thyroid cartilage, but especially the arytaenoid cartilages, must be perfectly symmetrical, and the all-important vocal cords should be perfectly elastic, and exactly opposite to each other. It is also very necessary that the ventricles of the larynx and the frontal sinuses should be larger, in order to give full resonance to the voice. Dr. Hunt remarks that as the tongue, the soft palate, and the uvula undoubtedly exercise a paramount influence on the modulation of the voice, it is essential that these organs should be in a perfectly healthy condition as regards volume, texture, and mobility. It has been observed that the thinner and more movable the soft palate, the more flexible is the voice ; and that those with whom it is comparatively thick have voices stronger but less flexible. It is hardly necessary, after what I have already said in a former lecture, for me to repeat that the hard palate, the nasal passages, the lips, and the teeth should all be well formed and in good condition. Herr Georges says very truly, in his " Guide to Vocalisation," that the thorough cultivation of the voice requires as much labour, ability, and care as the study of the piano or violin ; and if it ensures success sooner than these instruments, it simply proves its superiority over them ; but with equal truth I believe I can say that, although there may be comparatively but few persons possessing all the essential requisites to become pre-eminently great speakers, readers, or singers, there are still fewer who cannot by judicious cultivation arrive at some excellence, and I am sure my own experience among the many hundreds of pupils that I have had in this College since the time I was first appointed to my present Lectureship here, fully justifies me in asserting (without any reference to private pupils, who necessarily have much more individual care, time, and attention bestowed upon them) that there is no voice which may not, under judicious instruction by the teacher, and careful practice on the part of the pupil, be wonderfully improved in tone, strength, volume, and compass : and a similar remark in regard to the matter of articulation in cases of defective utterance or impediments of speech, may with equal truth be made. This holds good, I am sure relatively, though certainly not in the same degree, with regard to all ages of life, as you know in our Public Reading and Speaking Classes in this College we have had among our students all Lect. VII.] ON ELOCUTIO.V. 91 ages, from sixteen to sixty, just as we have had all professions repre- sented. Of course, in early youth and manhood, the vocal organs and muscles generally are more flexible, and consequently more susceptible of improvement, than they are when the culture of the voice is taken up for the first time at mature or advanced life ; but still I say again from what I have remarked among my pupils, here and elsewhere, there is no age at which the voice may not be greatly improved under judicious instruction and careful practice. As I shall have in this and subsequent Lectures to speak of the sound- wave and other kindred technical terms, it may not be out of place here if I give you a few brief facts which I hope may be of some interest to you respecting sound in general, and of the sound of the human voice in particular ; but for all full details I would refer you to the admirable course of lectures on Sound recently delivered by Professor Tyndall at the Royal Institution, and which are published in the Annual Trans- actions of that Society. Whensoever the molecules of matter of which any solid body is composed are by a blow, or some other disturbing force, thrown into a state of agitation, they will communicate it to all surrounding bodies composed similarly of molecules or atoms, as the smallest conceivable ultimate particles of which matter is composed are termed. Thus we commonly speak of the molecules in a block of wood and of the atoms in a certain quantity of gas or air. The alternate motions to and fro which are the result of the disturbed equilibrium of the component molecules or atoms are called vibrations, waves, undulations, or oscilla- tions. You strike a bell, for instance, a powerful blow with a hammer. What instantly takes place on the impact of the hammer upon the bell? The molecules of which the metal of the bell is composed are no sooner driven in by the force of the blow, than they are urged back beyond their former position by repulsion, and again carried beyond their position of repose by cohesive attraction. All the adjoining particles of the metal of the bell being necessarily affected, the whole mass will partake of the vibratory motion, which will only cease after a certain time has elapsed, longer or shorter, in proportion to the force of the concussion. Now these vibrations may be transmitted through any substance, whether liquid, solid, or aeriform ; but the ordinary medium by which these undulations are propagated is the atmosphere, and when these waves or vibrations reach the brain by means of the auditory nerves through the ear, the sensation we experience is termed sound. That it is necessary there should be a proper medium for thus transmitting these vibrations is perfectly demonstrable ; for, if we ring a bell under the exhausted receiver of an air-pump, we can scarcely perceive any sound at all ; but, as we gradually let in the air again, the sound of the ringing, or vibrations of the particles of which the metal of the bell is composed, becomes more and more audible in proportion to the quan- tity of air readmitted. So, too, when we stand on the summit of a lofty alpine peak and attempt to speak or sing, not only do we experi- ence a difficulty in doing so from the rarity of the air we are breathing, 92 KIS'G'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VII. but the sound we produce as voice is for the same reason audible only at a comparatively short distance. These vibrations, too, may be distinctly felt as well as heard ; for if you take an ordinary dessert finger-glass, half fill it with water, then dip the finger in water and gently rub the edge of the glass with the end of the finger so wetted in a circular direction, not only will a musical sound be produced, but, if you gently touch the outside of the glass with the fingers of the other hand, you will distinctly feel the vibrations of the particles of which the glass is composed. Or, if you take up a tuning-fork and strike it, and suddenly stop it with the finger, you will at once feel a peculiar sensation arising from the fork rapidly striking the finger. But these vibrations may not only be heard as sound by the ear, and felt by the sense of touch — they may also be actually seen by the eye, and most wonderful and interesting are the figures produced by these vibrations, as seen in that form, called after the discoverer, Chladni's Figures. These are the figures which are exhibited by fine sand, when strewn upon a horizontal plate, clamped at one point, and set in vibration by a violin bow. The formation of the figure is an immediate consequence of the formation of nodal lines, or lines of rest. If the plate used be square, and clamped in the middle, the lowest, or fundamental note, is produced when the plate vibrates in four segments. Now, if the finger be lightly placed at one corner, and the bow be drawn across the edge at the centre of one of the adjacent sides, the only lines of rest will be the two diagonals. These will divide the square into four segments, of which the two opposite ones are always in the act of ascending and descending, while the neighbouring segments are so related, that when one is going up, its neighbours are going down, and vice versa. The particles of sand are tossed about as long as they are upon the moving segments, but when they fall upon the nodal lines (in this case the diagonals), they remain at rest. The result is that the sand quickly accumulates on these lines. A square plate may also be made to vibrate in four segments, by touching the centre of one of the sides with the finger and drawing the bow across the corner. The lines of rest in this case are the two straight lines joining the centre of the opposite sides. Now, if in either of the above cases, the finger being placed as before, the bow be drawn more lightly and rapidly, it is pos- sible to make the plate sound the higher octave. This is immediately exhibited by the nodal lines, four curved fresh lines not crossing the original ones being produced, so that the whole plate is now divided into eight segments. By varying the point at which the finger is placed and the bow drawn, a countless variety of figures of great beauty may be produced. The number may be still further increased by varying the point at which the plate is clamped. In all cases the point touched by the finger, and all symmetrically situated points, are the extremities of the lines of rest, while the point scraped by the bow, and all symme- trically situated points, are in maximum vibration. The relation between the pitch of the note and the number of segments in which the plate is divided, is well shown by means of a circular disk, clamped in the centre. If the finger and bow are one-eighth of the circumference apart, the segments are four in number, and the fundamental note is produced. Lect. VII.] O.V ELOCUTIOy. 93 If the distance between the two is one-sixteenth of the circumference, the higher octave is produced, and so on. Circular segments may be obtained by clamping the circular disk, eccentrically making a hole in the centre, and drawing a few horse hairs through it. The point where* the plate is clamped will be a point in the nodal circle. The same effect may be shown in a still more striking manner by fastening a rod of wood or brass to the centre of the disk and (holding the rod in the middle) setting it in longitudinal vibration by rubbing it with resined leather. Sand then strewn on the disk will arrange itself in the rings of nodal lines, which will be more numerous the shorter the rod. Sand figures produced in any of these ways may be rendered permanent by transfer- ring them to blackened paper, the surface of which has been moistened by gum. If iron filings be used for the purpose of exhibiting these most curious experiments instead of sand, they may be exposed to the vapour of nitro-hydrochloric acid until some perchloride of iron is formed ; then, if a piece of white paper, moistened with ferro-cyanide of potassium, is pressed upon them, the forms assumed by the iron filings will print themselves indelibly in deep blue. I have entered into all these curious particulars for the purpose of showing you what a marvel- lous, interesting, and beautiful phenomenon sound is, and what mysteries are involved in it past our comprehension. Sound, if the atmosphere is in suitable condition, may be propagated to very great distances. It is recorded in one of the Polar Expeditions that, over a level surface, the air being calm and frosty, Lieut. Foster was able to make his voice heard and carry on a conversation with a person at a distance from him of fully a mile, if not more. But this distance is trifling compared to what is stated in the " Philosophical Transactions" of 1708, on the authority of Derham, who asserts that the human voice has been heard across the Straits of Gibraltar, that is to say, upwards of ten miles. The fact that all sounds proceed in waves of greater or less length and of greater or less number in a moment of time, will at once explain the cause of the annoyance to which a speaker or reader is liable when he is addressing an audience in a large hall, not well constructed on acoustic principles, and finds his words coming back to him in a kind of reverberation or echo. When sound-waves impinge upon a hard sur- face, or a surface more or less elastic, they are partly transmitted and partly reflected, causing often an echo ; and, with regard to the direction of the sound-wave reflected from a surface, it is found to follow exactly the same law as the reflection of light and heat, viz., that the path of the sound-wave after reflection makes precisely the same angle with the reflecting surface, if plane, as it did before reflection. The curvature of the walls in the interior of many public buildings is such, that the sound of the voice when the speaker is near one wall will often be twice reflected, so that those who are situated at a corresponding point near the opposite wall will hear the speaker quite distinctly, while those between the two, and, therefore, nearer the speaker, will fail to do so. When a person is obliged to speak or read under such disadvantageous cir cumstances, the only suggestion I can offer to mitigate the difficulty he 94 A'ING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VII. will have in making his words heard, is to be slower and more deliberate than usual, to make the proper grammatical and other pauses in the construction of his sentences of somewhat longer duration, and to be •very firm and careful in the use of all the articulating organs, tongue, lips, &c., so as to lessen the confusion of sounds as much as possible. Sounds are distinguished from each other by their intensity, pitch, or timbre. The intensity or loudness of a sound will always depend on the extent of the vibrations of the sounding body. By varying the force of the concussion, as when we beat a drum, or when we put our vocal cords in action in speaking or singing, by directing the current of air against them through the windpipe and larynx ; by varying the force of the impact and rendering it more or less powerful, we can from the same instrument produce at will sounds differing in degrees of loudness. The intensity of the sound heard by us will also depend on our nearness or remoteness from it, and sound also in this respect seems subject to the same law as light — viz., that it will diminish in force in proportion to the square of the distance. This law, however, only applies to sounds that reach us immediately from the instrument that produces them through the medium of the air ; for when sounds are confined within tubes, as in the case of the speaking-trumpet, so that the sound-waves cannot diverge, but are successively reflected from the sides of the in- terior of the trumpet, the voice may be conveyed to a very considerable distance, which, but for such an instrument, it could not, under opposing circumstances (such as when the captain gives his orders to his crew on board ship in a gale of wind), possibly have reached. In this way even whispers may be rendered audible at a long distance, as in the case of the common india-rubber speaking-tube, so lamiliar to us in our counting- houses and offices. Since the last edition of these Lectures was jiublished, a marvellous advance has been made in our acquaintance with and command over the phenomena of sound, by the inventions of the telephone, the phonograph, and the microphone. A few short years ago and it would almost have seemed like some of the fair)- gifts in the " Arabian Nights," had we been told that articulate speech would ere long be transmitted from a speaker to a hearer a hundred miles away, and heard distinctly ; that speech itself should be registered and reproduced at will ; and perhaps, most wonderful of all, that feeble sounds, so feeble indeed as to be absolutely inaudible to the human ear, should be so magnified as to be heard with an intensity and power almost painful miles away ; and yet such are the marvels accomplished by the telephone (invented by Mr. Graham Bell), the phonograph (which we owe to Mr. Edison of New Jersey, in the United States, who has still further developed the powers of the telephone), and the microphone (for which we are indebted to Professor D. E. Hughes of London). An excellent account of these wonderful triumphs of science, revised by Professor Huxley, will be found in the number of the "Nineteenth Century " for June 187S. Another singular instrument for making visible the changes of figure produced by sound, called the phoneidoscope, has also quite recently been invented by Mr. Sedley Taylor. Lect. VII.] ON ELOCUTIOy: 95 In the phonograph and in the telephone, a thin metal disk is thrown into a state of vibration by the human voice. In order to make such vibrations visible, Mr. Sedley Taylor takes advantage of the extreme tenuity of a film of soap, like that of a soap-bubble. This fprms a resonant medium of great delicacy, which strikingly exhibits to the eye the agitation which it suffers when in the neighbourhood of a sounding body. The phoneidoscope consists of a cylindrical brass tube, of L-shape, having one of its limbs horizontal and the other vertical. The horizontal limb is furnished with a caoutchouc tube, which terminates in a wooden mouthpiece. The open end of the vertical limb is surmounted by a brass ring which supports a blackened brass disk pierced with an aperture, which varies in size and shape in different disks. This aperture is covered with a film of viscous soap-solution, which soon becomes sufficiently thin to reflect the well-known iridescent colours which confer such beauty upon a common soap-bubble. On singing near the mouth- piece, the air in the tube is thrown into a state of vibration, and thic motion is immediately taken up by the soap- film. The rainbow-tinted bands of colour share in the movement, and arrange themselves in definite forms. Regular curved bands may be seen to alternate with eddies of colour which rapidly revolve around fixed centres. An endless, variety of patterns may thus be obtained, and as the film grows thinner and thinner the colours often become extremely gorgeous. The shape and size of the film exert considerable influence on the character of the colour-figures, as may be seen by using disks with apertures of different forms and magnitude. Change of pitch produces remarkable changes in the reflected figures ; and it may generally be noted that the com- plexity of the coloured pattern increases with the acuteness of the sound. Differences oi timbre, or quality, also has its effects upon these phenomena, as is well seen by sounding the same note on different mstruments, and marking the corresponding changes in the colour- figures. It appears, however, that variations in intensity or loudness of sound, though not without effect on the rate of motion of the figures, do not produce decided changes of pattern. In Cliladni's experiments, the sonorous vibrations of a plate of glass or metal are rendered visible by means of sand lightly strewn over the surface of the sounding body. In the phoneidoscope a medium of exquisite delicacy is substituted for the glass or metal ; and the inter- loliated colours displayed by this gossamer give an entirely novel and beautiful effect to the experiment. Another wonderful instrument has also recently been invented by Mr. Rhodes, called the audiphone, by which sounds may be heard even by those persons who are quite deaf to them if attempted to be con- veyed by the external ear. The " Philadelphia Ledger" gives an interesting account of a public experiment with this remarkable invention upon deaf mutes at an asylum in that city. The audiphones exhibited were of two kinds. The conversational audiphone is fan-like and made entirely of hard rubber. The fan itself is a very thin plate of rubber about eight inches 96 AGING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VII. square. A siik cord is attaclied to the plate near its upper edge, and passing down through the handle where it is held by a clutch, is used to bend the plate over. Having been bent over, the convex side of the plate is held towards the source of sound, while the upper edge is pressed against the edge or end of one or more of the upper teeth, the eye-teeth generally giving the best results. The vibrations of the upper edge of the disks caused by sounds impart the sound-waves to the teeth, and through the auditory nerve to the brain. The " opera audiphone," for use at lectures, concerts, &:c., is similar to the other, except that it has two plates or disks, which, on being bent down, describe two different curves, so that they are an inch or more apart in the centre, whilst the edges of both disks are pressed against the teeth. By the use of this a deaf mute can hear the sound of his own voice. Mr. Rhodes, the inventor, explained that in trying experiments in many asylums he had found that where the conditions were the same the results were the same — with good brains, good auditory nerves, and good teeth, the deaf mutes could hear well. Where, however, any of these conditions were absent, the hearing would be imperfect. Where people have been totally deaf and, as a consequence, are mutes, the audiphone may be efficient in conveying sound, but cannot make them understand. It is, however, very useful in educating them. The general result of the experiment on the occasion in question was satisfactory, the audiphone being certainly capable of improving the hearing of some of the deaf mutes. A little practice is sometimes needed to enable the deaf person to hear distinctly, and bad teeth or loosely-fitted false ones are an impediment to the transmission of sound-waves through them. Now, with regard to the pitch, tone, or note, in the musical scale, whether of the human voice as produced by the vocal cords, or of the string of the harp, or any other instrument that depends entirely upon the number of vibrations or sound-waves that take place in a second of time, the less frequent the vibrations of a sounding-body, the graver or lower in the scale will be the sound produced, and the more frequent the vibrations, the higher or more acute will be the sound that is heard. The lower or graver the sound, the longer in extent is each of the sound- waves produced by the vibrations ; and the higher and more acute, the shorter is each wave. "It has been generally assumed," says Dr. Hunt, "that the lowest or gravest sound which the human ear is capable of perceiving is formed of thirty-two vibrations in a second." M. Savart, on the other hand, from numerous experiments, has come to the conclusion that the perceptive power of man in relation to musical sounds, extends from only seven vibrations in a second, to the enormous number of twenty-four thousand vibrations in a second. Dr. Wollaston considered that the power of the human ear to perceive sounds in regard to rapid vibrations, extended but a very few notes above the sound produced by the field cricket. He states that he had known several persons whose hearing was considered generally good, but who had never been able to hear the chirping of the common house cricket ; whence he concluded that the faculty of hearing certain notes did not depend so much upon the intensity of the sound as upon the Lect. VII.] O.V elocution. 97 pitch or number of vibrations in a second. It is asserted that the chirp of the long-eared bat is the most acute sound produced by any animal, and that on the average in a company of six persons, there will be found one who cannot distinguish the sound. The timbre, quality, expression, or clang, depends on the nature of the vibrating body, whether it be the vocal cords of the human larynx, or the strings of the harp, or the tube of the trumpet, or any other kind of musical instrument. By the term is understood a certain peculiarity which enables us to discriminate the individual voices of two speakers or singers, or two similar notes in the scale produced by two different instruments of the same description, such as the piano or violin. A distinguishable sound composed of precisely double the number of vibrations is termed its octave, and the intermediate seven sounds form the diatonic scale or gamut, as it is usually termed in music. What constitutes the difference between musical sounds and those sounds which we call mere noises ? This — that musical sound is the result of periodic, isochronous, or equal-toned vibrations of the atmo- sphere, i.e., vibrations following one another at an appreciable pace or rate. Sounds of which the vibrations are irregular in their succession, and the pace of which is therefore inappreciable, are mere noises. Though instances are to be met with of persons wholly insensible to the beauty of musical sounds, whether of the human voice or of some instrument of music, and who cannot even distinguish between one air or tune and another (Dr. Johnson, the great lexicographer, was one to whom all music, however excellent, sounded as mere noise), yet still, for the enjoyment of mankind, such instances are comparatively rare ; and to most ears musical sounds are much more agreeable than unmusical. Music is undoubtedly preferable, and by the world in general is preferred to mere noise. But musical sounds have the advantage not only from the pleasure they afford the ear and mind, but isochronous vibrations, which I have said from that very fact constitute musical sounds, are far more extensive in their range than others, and are audible and appreciable at far greater distances. As Professor Hullah says in familiar language, music "travels farther" than noise, and this is equally true of the music of speech, as of the music of song or any other kind of music. The recognition of this unquestionable fact can be traced up to the earUest dawn of oratory. You may perceive its truth when you listen to the oldest and simplest form of ecclesiastical chant, or even in the nature-prompted utterance of some street criers. If you have been in Paris in the autumn and listened, as I often have, to the peculiar musical cry of " Pommes de Chartreux," or in Edinburgh at the herring season, and heard the Newhaven "fishwives" call out their "caller herring and cod" (an illustration quoted by Professor Hullah, with the exact notes in the musical scale given to each syllable), I think you must have been struck, as I have often been, with the enormous distances, compara- tively, to which not merely the sounds but the words conveyed by them reached the ear.* * A most able and interesting article appeared in the " Westmins.ter Review" G 98 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VII. I am entering into all these details for the purpose of gradually lead- ing you on, and preparing you, I hope, to understand more easily the important subject on which I shall enter in my next Lecture — viz., the Inflections of the Voice ; and now, for the rest of my remarks this even- ing, I must once for all express my great obligations to Professor Hullah for the illustrations he has given, and views he has advanced in his excellent book so recently published, in support of those theories and principles which I have endeavoured every session for nearly twenty years to impress upon the minds of all the students who have attended my classes in this College ; and I gladly avail myself of his high authority to confirm now what I have always' maintained and advocated. "The first person" (says Professor Hullah) "who ever attempted to address a very large assembly must have discovered, by the time he had uttered a dozen words, that if what he had to say was to be made not only audible but intelligible to any but those immediately about him, his utterance must be partially musical ; and that the more numerous his audience, and the larger his auditorium, the more musical must that utterance be. If it is true, then, which few will be found to dispute, that musical is more agreeable than any other kind of sound ; and (which may not be at first equally obvious, but is equally true) that musical is audible over a greater area than any other kind of sound, — it would seem desirable to introduce as much as possible of it into our utterance, whether it be addressed to few or to many, in small places or in large. Indeed, universal assent to this might seem to be implied in the epithet, more than any other, by which a pleasing voice is char- acterised. The epithets strojig, dear, siveet (figurative all three), are no doubt familiar to us in connection with voices ; as are their opposites, feeble, husky, and harsh. But, by universal consent, the highest tribute to the excellence of a voice is conveyed in the word viiisical, not used figuratively or analogically, but simply and directly. By a musical voice is always meant a voice, the very sound of which gives pleasure, although irrespective of, or (it may be safer to say) over and above the sense conveyed by it." It would seem that the sweetness and power of vocal utterance are greater or less as they are more or less musical ; and, to advance another step, that words spoken fall more or less pleasantly upon the ear, and also spread themselves over a larger area, as they approximate to, or partake of, the character of words sung. Yet the two acts of speaking and singing are different acts notwithstanding ; they have their different uses and their different occasions of use — occasions when it would be most inconvenient and impertinent to exchange them. And unless we keep this in mind we may injure both ; rob song of its special charm and make speech ridiculous. How is speech to be made more musical without being turned into song? We shall be able to answer this question more confidently by and by. As a good preliminary for October 1875, on Helmholtz's work, the " Sensations of Tone as a Physiological Basis for the Theory of Music," and Professor Tyndali's Lectures on Sound delivered at the Royal Institution. Lect. VII.] ON ELOCUTION. 99 foundation for what I shall enter upon fully in my next Lecture, let us ascertain what are the particulars in which speech and song essentially differ from, as well as resemble, each other. In speech, then, the voice glides up and down what, by an allowable figure, may be called an inclined plane ; in song it makes steps, the proportion of which to one another are ascertained. Speech is for the most part heard only during the passage of the voice from one sound to another : it is the result of intervals ; in song intervals are traversed silently, and the voice is heard only on sounds — the terms or boundaries of intervals. The variations of the inflections of the voice in speech may be compared to the effect produced by sliding the finger up and down the vibrating string, such as that of the violin Avhen it is being played on ; those in song to that produced by " stop- ping" such a string at certain points and at no others. In brief, speech consists almost exclusively (for we do not often make use of the stac- cato in delivery) of coficrete sounds ; song almost exclusively of discrete sounds. But as the differences between speech and song are great, so also are their resemblances. True speech consists of concrete, and song of discrete sounds ; but sounds are sounds, whether concrete or discrete. Moreover, in speech and in song they are produced by the same instrument — the voice ; and though in a somewhat different manner, yet by the same mechanism, and governed by the same laws ; similar varieties of pitch, intensity, and even tirnbre resulting from its action on both, only resulting more frequently and rapidly in the music of speech than in the music of song ; and when all those elements which form the music of speech are developed and cultivated by judicious instruction, based upon sound and scientific principles on the part of the teacher, and regular and careful practice on the part of the pupil, the process by which those elements are brought to their highest attainable perfection is that which I understand by what is called the "Art of Elocution." An excellent translation of Hehnholtz's work, the " Sensations of Tone as a Physiological Basis for the Theory of Music," by INIr. A. G. Ellis, has recently been published by Messrs. Longmans, which is well worthy of being read by the student who feels an interest in further investigating the subject. The question of the composition and length of waves of sound is fully discussed in the second chapter. As an analogy, the various simultaneous waves produced on water are exemplified, and we are told that we must imagine the same kind of action taking place in the air. In a crowded ball-room, for instance, we have the various sounds of the musical instruments, the rustling of dresses, the voices of men and women, and so on; and here "we have to imagine that from the mouths of men, and from the deeper musical instruments, there proceeds waves of from eight to twelve feet in length ; from the lips of the women, waves of two to four feet in length ; from the rustling of the dresses a fine, small crumple of wave, and so on ; in short, a tumbled entangle- ment of the most different kinds of motion, complicated beyond con- ception." See review of Mr. Ellis's translation of Helmholtz's work in the "Quarterly Journal of Science" for October 1875. 100 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. [Lect, VII. I must, ere I close this Lecture, revert once more to the subjects of the transmission of voice and speech by the telephone, and their reproduction by the phonograph, in consequence of certain facts and discoveries regarding them having only just now been com- municated to me, and which I state on the authority of the Comte du Moncel, Member of the French Institute. The first experiment, although easily performed, has only been suggested a few months ago by a Pennsylvanian newspaper. It consists in the transmission of speech by a telephone simply laid on some part of the human body adjacent to the chest. It has been asserted that any part of the body will produce this effect ; but, according to Comte du Moncel's experience, he could only succeed when the telephone was firmly applied to his chest. Under such conditions, and even through his clothes, he could make himself heard when speaking in a very loud voice ; from which it appears that the whole of the human body takes part in the vibrations produced by the voice. In this case the vibrations are mechanically transmitted to the diaphragm of the sending telephone, not by the air, but by the body itself acting on the outside of the telephone. Speaking of the phonograph, Comte du Moncel says : — " That as the height of the notes of the musical scale depends on the number of vibrations effected by a vibrating substance in a given time, speaking will be reproduced in a tone of which the pitch will depend on the velocity of rotation given to the cylinder on which the tinfoil is wound. If the velocity is the same as that which was used in registration, the tone of the words reproduced is the same as that in which they were uttered. If the velocity is greater, the tone is higher ; if less, the tone is lower ; but the accent of the speaker may always be recognised. Owing to this peculiarity, the reproduction of songs is nearly always defective in instruments turned by the hand ; they sing out of tune. This is not the case when the instrument is moved by a well-regulated system of clockwork, and in this way a satisfactory reproduction of a duet has been obtained. " The phonograph is still in its infancy, and it is probable that it may soon be enabled to register speech without the necessity of speaking into a mouthpiece. According to the newspapers, Mr. Edison has already discovered a way of collecting, without the aid of an acoustic tube, the sounds uttered at a distance of three or four feet from the instrument, and of printing them on a metallic sheet. From this there is only a step to the power of inscribing a speech uttered in a large hall at any distance from the phonograph ; and if this step is taken, phonography may be substituted with advantage for shorthand." LECTURE VIII. Theory of the Inflections of the Human Voice — Practical illustration — Inflections of the Voice as a means of expression natural to man— Remarks of the Abbe Thibout, Mr. Darwin, Mr. Herbert Spencer, and Mr. Litchfield — The first attempt to reduce the inflection of the Voice to a System of Notation made by Josliua Steele in 1775 in his " Prosodia Rationalis,"' David Garrick and Steele — The use of the Inflections known to the Greek and Roman Orators — Quotation from Quintilian — Walker's views in regard to the two Primary Inflections — Great importance of a knowledge of the chief principles that govern the Inflections in regard to Elocution. N this Lecture I have to enter fully upon what I think a most interesting branch of our subject, viz., the inflections of the human voice. What these are, and in what they differ from the music of song, I endeavoured to explain in the concluding part of my last Lecture. But to make the matter clearer, let me take this personal and practical illustration : — I assume that one of you is a man of quick intelligence and good powers of imagination — one who can enter vividly into the feelings, passions, and emotions contained in a fine poem or drama. I assume, too, that he has become well skilled in that all-important point, the right mode of managing the breath in inspiration, and its right control in expira- tion when reading aloud or speaking in public ; so that all his clauses and sentences can flow on smoothly, and without any failure as regards purity of tone and power, and that he well observes the law^s of the prosody of our language, that the vowels which are long are properly sustained and finished after they have been truly formed, while there is no undue prolongation of the vowels which are short, and that all the consonants of his words are clearly articulated — On these assumptions, what shall we have ? We shall have, at all events, a clear and audible voice and a distinct pronunciation. But I assume that his acquaintance with the art of Elocution has not gone beyond this — so for the effect of anything he has to deliver, he must depend upon the guidance of his own taste, feelings, and discretion. All these let us take to be good, that he is free from any affectation or mannerism, and is a man gifted by nature with a strong dramatic power in the true and high sense of the word, that is, the power of truly conceiving to himself, and then conveying to LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CATJFORNIA SANTA BARBARA I 102 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VIII. Others, the various passions and emotions of humanity — I ask such a man to read to me a scene from Shakespeare — one where the characters introduced speak under the control of strongly contrasted passions and emotions — for instance, the scene between Hubert and the young Prince Arthur in King John (act iv. scene i). He reads the scene to us, and we will take it for granted that he reads it thoroughly well, and at its close we are conscious that he has made us quite feel all the apparent stern- ness, harsh authority, and cruelty of Hubert, until the change takes place in his character which is shown in the last three speeches he has to utter ; and on the other hand, that our reader has made us feel, equally well,all the affection, tenderness, and supphcation of the " little Prince " as he pleads for mercy. Now if we have listened attentively to our reader, what shall we have remarked ? This, in the first place — his voice was not upon one note all the time, which may be represented thus by a straight line. But as he read the speeches of Hubert, his voice will have been descending in the musical scale for the most part, which may be represented thus X^ while, as he gave expression to all Arthur's prayers 'and supplications, his voice will on the contrary have been rising in the scale, as thus 7 - Now these ascents and descents of the voice are what are termed the inflections of the voice ; and as the voice rises or slides upward on a number greater or less of concrete notes in the musical scale (to use Professor Hullah's. expression) it is called a rishig inflection: and on the other hand, as the voice in the same manner descends in the musical scale, it is called d, falling inflection. These are the two great divisions of the ordinary simple inflections of the voice in speakit>g or reading. But you do not imagine that all the effect given to the dialogue that I assume to have been read with so much true expression, was gained by the reader employing these two inflections only. No, there were other inflections also often employed of which, in due time, I hope I shall be able to give you a clear explanation. There were also many changes in what is termed the modulation of the voice — there was proper observance of the great physiological law of poise, besides due judgment in discrimination shown in the degrees of emphasis that are given to what are called the rhetorical words in each sentence ; and also other elements of expression, all of which we shall sufficiently discuss and explain as we proceed in our course of Lectures. But for the present I wish to confine your attention — (i) to the subject of inflections generally, and (2) to these two classes of inflections in particular. I contend that in all emotional speech there is an increased prolon- gation of the vowels, especially noticeable when they are long in point of quantity in the principal words of the sentence in which they occur, and this is produced quite automatically under the influence of the Lect. VIIL] ON ELOCUTION. 103 dominant emotion. The same thing takes place in the case of the great actor when he embodies the emotion in the language uttered by him in the character he is personating on the stage ; but with him it is the result of studying the mode in which the language of emotion is spoken by those who really feel it ; or else by stimulating his imaginative faculty sufficiently to enable him to fully realise the emotion for the time, and as it were project his mind into, and for the period in which " He struts and frets his hour upon the stage," seem to become the character he is representing. But whether the cause be actual feeling, or close study and observation, or vivid imagi- nation, the result will be the same. Just in the same manner as voice can only be heard on vowels in the discrete notes of the music of song : so it is only upon vowels, the voice can sustain the concrete notes that form the simple rising and falling, or the compound or circumflex inflections in the music of speech, and nature demands a sufficient prolongation of these vowels in order to produce vocal waves of sufficient duration on which she can as it were play, and have material enough to render her inflections fully perceptible ; for without these inflections she cannot render her emotions communicable in spoken language from one human being to another. How true this is may be shown by the following simple illustration. I take just one brief speech from Shakespeare's play of " Measure for Measure," and I read it first of all with what are termed wide ranges of the rising inflections — and those inflections pitched in a comparatively high key : — " Go to your bosom ; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's fault. If it confess A natural guiltiness, such as is his, Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life." Read in this way, I think it will be admitted it conveys an earnest, pathetic appeal. Let it be read now a second time, but with what are termed emphatic falUng inflections, and pitched in a low key, as thus : — " Go to your bosom ; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's fault. If it confess, A natural guiltiness, such as is his, Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life." Thus read, it will be perceived the impression made on the hearer is wholly different, and though the words are still the same, they convey to the mind, through the different impression made by these vocal waves upon the ear, the idea of a stern command, instead of an earnest appeal. Let the same passage be now re'^id a third time, in one unvarying key and without any inflection at all, as thus : — ^^ Go to your bosom ; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know I lOd KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VIII. That's like my brother'' s fault. If it confess A 7iatHral guiltiness, such as is his, Let it not sound a thought upon, your tongue Against 7ny brother s life." Thus read, without any change in regard to modulation and without any variation in inflection, it becomes almost meaningless, and conveys no emotion whatever. ' Now, what is it that causes such different feelings to be conveyed to the mind, as the passage is read in these three different ways ? Why, this — As read the first time, the voice is in every clause rising in the musical scale ; as read the second time, the voice is descending in the musical scale ; and as read the third time, the voice is little more than a mere succession of monotones. It seems to me that in the expression of these various passions and emotions through the medium of the human voice, that there may be traced a general prevailing law of antithesis — i.e., that if a particular emotion is conveyed by a series of vocal waves rising in the musical scale, and pitched in keys more or less high, it will be found that the opposite emotion is expressed by a series of notes (or inflections, as they are technically termed) descending in the musical scale and pitched in keys more or less low. Let me endeavour to render this proposition clear by an illustration. I take the emotion of prayer or supplication as conveyed by the following lines : — " O save me, Hubert, save me ! For Heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bov'uid. Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive these men away, And I will sit as quiet as a lamb. O spare mine eyes ! Though to no use, but still to look on you ! " And here it cannot but be noticed that the voice is throughout, as the lines are spoken, rising in the musical scale and pitched in high keys. Now, what is the opposite to supplication? Surely command; and accordingly, I take this passage embodying command, and let it be read thus in low keys and with falling inflections : — " Spirits of earth and air. Ye shall not thiis elude nie. By a power Deeper than all yet urged, a tyrant spell, Which had its birth-place in a star condemned, The burning wreck of a demolished world, A wandering hell in the eternal space ; By the strong cinse which is upon my soul The thought that is within me, and around me I do compel ye to my will. Appear !" And as this illustration is thus read, I think it must be equally perceptible that the voice is descending in the musical scale, and that it is pitched in low keys. I do not think sufficient attention has been paid hitherto to the great influence which the free movements of the whole neck, alike upward and downward, exercise in facilitating the production of the higher and lower keys and inflections of the voice in the music of speech. I have, h Lect. VIII. j on elocution. io5 for some time past, paid considerable attention to the attitudes taken by great orators, preachers, and actors, and more especially by those of France and Italy, who certainly, in general, in the expression of emotions, indulge more freely and unrestrainedly in movement, attitude, and gesture, as well as the expression of countenance, than those of our own country ; and I have invariably noticed that when making earnest, pathetic appeals, or expressing hope, love, or joy, or giving utterance to surprise or wonder, the whole neck has been more or less elevated ; while the keys and inflections of the voice have, at the same time, been ranging high in the musical scale. On the other hand, when giving utterance to solemn affirmation, stern denunciation, awe, gloom, or dejection, the neck has been more or less depressed, while at the same time the keys and inflections have all been low in pitch and range. I cannot help, therefore, coming to the conclusion, that in powerful emotional speech, it will be found that free and untrammelled move- ments of the neck, either ascending or descending, according to the emotion we have to express, do greatly facilitate the production of the appropriate keys and inflections, according as they may be high in pitch and rising in the musical scale, or low in pitch and falling in the musical scale. The Abbe Thibout in his "Action Oratoire," p. 72, speaking of the movements of the head and neck, says : — " On ne peut trop en regler les mouvements, pour qu'ils ne presentent rien de choquant ni de defectueux. . . . Evitez soigneusement de tenir la tete raide, comme si vous aviez le torticolis. Aimez a I'elever avec modestie et a conformer ses mouvements avec ceux des dpaules et de la main, quand vous adressez la parole a Dieu, aux esprits celestes ; quand vous parlez du soleil, des astres, des montagnes, &c., dans les eloges, dans la joie, quand il faut en produise les sentiments. Baissez la tete dans la tristesse, dans les recits lugubres, dans les sentiments de penitence, dans les calamite's publiques, dont vous exposez I'image funeste, dans I'aveu de vos faiblesses. En un mot, souvenons nous toujours que la tete tient le premier rang dans Taction, entre les autres parties du corps; qu'elle contribue plus qu'aucune autre aux agrements de la prononciation." So also the great naturalist Buffon remarks : — " La tete en entier prends dans les passions, des positions et des mouvements differens ; elle est abaissee en avant dans Thumilite, la honte, la tristesse ; penchee \ cote dans la langueur, la pitie ; elevee dans I'arrogance ; droite et fixe dans I'opiniatrete ; la tete elevee fait un mouvement en arriere dans I'etonnement, et plusieurs mouvements reiteres de cote ; et d'autres dans le mepris, la moquerie, la colere et I'indignation." * Mr. Lennox Browne in his translation and comments on Dr. Wit- kowski's recent work on the mechanism of the larynx, says at p. 2, quoting from the work, "The larynx is able from its mobility to take part in the production of voice. For example, during the act of phona- tion, the larynx is raised during the emission of acute sounds and lowered for grave sounds, hence the attitude of tenors and crowing cocks with the head raised." And, commenting on this, the translator adds the following remark : — " In the translator's opinion this elevation * Buftbn, Hist. Nat., 4th edit. vol. iv. p. 531. io6 /^LVG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VIII. and lowering of the larynx influences the pitch of the emitted note by means of a corresponding shortening or lengthening of that portion of the vocal apparatus which lies above the voice box, a corresponding contraction in the diameter of the canal, both above and below, assisting to the same result. By such a provision the vocal organ is not only one with reeds, having power of alteration of length and size, but with pipes, having a similar capability, both as regards conduction of the motor force, air, and in emission of the note pitched." — Medical Hints on the Production ajid Management of the Singing Voice (tenth thousand, 1S78), p. 27.* '^ On this subject 1 also consulted a very eminent American physician, Dr. Theo. H. Kellogg of New York, who most obligingly favoured me with the following interesting letter, which I give in extenso : — • "29 West 36TFI Street, New York, A/>ri/ 2$f/i, 1879. "My dear Friend, — Your welcome letter of April 12th has just come to hand, and I have laid aside all work to give it an immediate answer, and to express my regret that time should have stolen such a silent march upon me since the receipt of your previous favour. " You have raised a question of considerable interest in phonology, in that matter about which you ask my opinion. I fully agree with you in your very practical observations. The free movements of the larynx certainly do exert a decided control over the pitch of the voice. It is not easy to suggest a fully satisfactory theory for this fact. " The vocal apparatus of man has striking resemblances to many sound-producing instruments, and yet, considered as a whole, it is perfectly unique. " It is most nearly approached in its mechanism by strings, flute- ])ipes, and reeds, and still it so far transcends these in the full range of its possibilities, that it is in vain to seek in them for strictly analogous laws to account for all its phenomena. " It is only in a suggestive way, therefore, that I speak of the fact in question in connection with certain points in acoustics which I venture to recall to your mind. "The pitch of a vibrating cord, depends in the first place on its length. This fact accounts in a great measure for the natural varieties of pitch in the human voice, viz., the basso, barytone, tenor, contralto, and soprano registers, in which the cordce vocales diminish in length in the order named. Many even explain the falsetto in like manner, supposing the cords to vibrate in only a part of their length. "The number of vibrations of a stretched cord, however, increases also in direct ratio to the square root of the tension weight, and the voice will accordingly undergo an elevation of pitch in proportion to the force of contraction of the cricothyroid muscles, and the resulting tension of the true vocal ligaments. Physiological experiments show that this rule, though true in the main, cannot be applied with mathe- matical exactness to the human larynx. ■* Bailliere, Tindal, & Cox, King William Street, Strand. 1S7S, price is. 6d. Lect. VIII.] ON ELOCUTION. 107 " It is quite in keeping with your view, that the cricothyroid muscles greatly depress the thyroid cartilage when they contract, and render the vocal cords tense, just as the antagonistic thyroarytenoid muscles elevate this part of the larynx when they act to relax the cords ; and these movements of the larynx are certainly the concomitants, if not the proximate cause, of the changes in pitch. " The same holds true if we compare the vocal apparatus to a reed instrument, with which it has stricter analogies, the vocal ligaments representing the tongue, or double membranes drawn over the mouth of an air-tube, the trachea, or rather between two tubes, considering the air passages above the larynx as the second tube. And here, as in the first instance, the tension of the cords is, of course, the chief regulator of the pitch, though I am inclined to attach considerable importance to the theory of harmonic and reciprocal vibration of the tracheal column of air. "It seems to me also, that no writer, unless it be yourself, has laid sufficient stress on the remarkable changes in the voice produced by muscular and tendinous contraction, not of the larynx alone, but also of the neck, chest, and of all the internal organs which can be rendered tense by volitional or emotional impulses. " Your interesting observation, that there is a vigorous play of the vocal organs only in impassioned orators, accords exactly with the recent views of physiologists, who hold that the muscular movements of speech are never the result of simple volition, but that they are always the result of sensations or emotions. " But I fear I shall try your patience if I extend these remarks, so I hasten to express my extreme satisfaction that there is so soon to be a third edition of your ' King's College Lectures on Elocution.' I assure you I am not the only one in New York who will welcome the book. " With kind regards, I am, most faithfully yours, "THEO. H. KELLOGG, M.D. " To Chas. J. Plumptre, Esq., Maida Vale, London, N.W." I think, therefore, it is clear that while the elevation of the whole neck facilitates the production of the higher notes, alike in the music of speech as of song, its depression renders more easy the production of all those that are low in pitch. Of course, this peculiar quality of the voice has been inherent in man ever since he was endowed with speech ; and he has used it naturally, and has developed its power more and more as his ideas multiplied, his civilisation advanced, and reason, imagination, and the various emotions of humanity were called into action. In the same manner has he used modulation of the voice, carried out its poise, given emphasis to his words, and, in fact, more or less employed all the other elements of Elocution, in all ages and in all countries, guided by the instruction of nature only : just as I assumed, a few minutes ago, that our reader of Shakespeare, having had his voice cultivated and developed, but know- ing nothing further of the principles of the art of Elocution, but guided io8 A'JjVG'S college LECTURES [Lect. VIII. solely by the exercise of his intelligence and imagination, had read to us and read well. Indeed, I cannot too earnestly impress upon you that true Elocution must be the result of a close and scrutinising examination of nature ; of a diligent observance of the principles on which the inflections and other phenomena of the voice are based ; and then of a scientific classification of these principles. Thus the native Indian orator, whom Lord Erskine in the brilliant peroration to his speech in defence of Stockdale, mentions as having heard in his youth, and whom he describes as " a naked savage, holding a bundle of sticks in his hand as the notes of his unlettered eloquence," appears to have had all the resources of Elocution at his command. In the same manner men and women in all ages, and often in the lowest ranks of life, and wholly devoid of musical or any other education, have yet sung, so as to not merely give even critical hearers pleasure by the native beauty of their voices, but to touch their emotions by the powers of expression the singers naturally possessed. I could give instances of such vocalists of nature having fortunately been heard by some discriminating bystander, who has afterwards sought them out, removed them from their lowly sphere in life, given them a thorough musical education, and has been rewarded by seeing the objects of his beneficence eventually occupying a foremost position on the lyric stage. Thus, good as they were before, proper cultivation of their gifts made them far better ; and the same remark applies with equal truth to Elocution, provided the instruction be sound and judicious, and the practice of the pupil steady and persevering. That a true system of developing and cultivating the inflections and modulations of the human voice, so as to give the pupil eventually the highest powers of expression of which the range of his voice is capable, must be, and can only be, based on nature, is an assertion that I make most emphatically. And I say so, because inflection and modulation are inherent in man, and their employment is based on and governed by the laws of his nature. Mr. Darwin, in his recent most interesting work on "The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals," * says at p. 36 : " The character of the human voice under the influence of various emotions has been discussed by Mr. Herbert Spencer in his interesting essay on music. He clearly shows that the voice alters much under different conditions in loudness and quality, that is, in resonance and fitnbre, in pitch and intervals. No one can listen to an eloquent orator or preacher, without being struck with the truth of Mr. Spencer's remarks. It is curious how early in life the modulation of voice becomes expressive. With one of my children, under the age of two years, I clearly perceived that his ' humph ' of assent was rendered by a slight modulation strongly em- ])hatic ; and that, by a peculiar whine, his negative expressed obstinate determination. Mr. Spencer shows that emotional speech, in all the above respects, is intimately related to vocal music, and consequently to instrumental music ; and he attempts to explain the characteristic • "The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals : " John Murray, Albe- marle Street. Lect. VIII.] ON ELOCUTION. 109 qualities of both on physiological grounds, namely — on 'the general law that a feeling is a stimulus to muscular action.' It maybe admitted that the voice is affected through this law ; but the explanation appears to me too general and vague to throw much light on the various differ- ences, with the exception of that of loudness, between ordinary speech, and emotional speech, or singing. This remark holds good, whether we believe that the various qualities of the voice originated in speaking under the excitement of strong feelings, and that the qualities have subsequently been transferred to vocal music ; or whether we believe, as I maintain, that the habit of uttering musical sounds was first developed as a means of courtship in the early progenitors of man, and thus became associated with the strongest emotions of which they were capable, namely, ardent love, rivalry, and triumph. "That animals utter musical notes is famihar to every one, as we may daily hear in the singing of birds. It is a more remarkable fact, that an ape, one of the gibbons, produces an exact octave of musical sounds, ascending and descending the scale by half-tones, so that this monkey, as Professor Owen says, ' alone of brute mammals may be said to sing.' From this fact, and from the analogy of other animals, I have been led to infer that the progenitors of man probably uttered musical tones before they had acquired the power of speech, and that consequently when the voice is used under any strong emotion, it tends to assume, through the principle of association, a musical character. . . . That the pitch of the voice bears some relation to certain slates of feeling is tolerably clear. A person gently complaining of ill-treatment, or slightly suffering, almost always speaks in a high-pitch voice. . . . Laughter may be either high or low in pitch ; so that, with adult men, as Haller long ago remarked, the sound partakes of the character of the vowels (as pronounced in German) O and A ; whilst with women and children, it has more of the character of E and I ; and these latter vowels naturally have, as Helmholtz has shown, a higher pitch than the former ; yet both tones of laughter equally express enjoyment or amuse- ment." In considering the mode in which vocal utterances express emotion, we are naturally led to inquire into the cause of what is called " expres- sion " in music. Upon this point Mr. Litchfield, who has long attended to the subject of music, has been so kind as to give me the following remarks. "The question. What is the essence of musical 'expression'? involves a number of obscure points, which, so far as I am aware, are as yet unsolved enigmas. Up to a certain point, however, any law which is found to hold as to the expression of the emotion, must apply to the more developed mode of expression in song, which may be taken as the primary type of all music. A great part of the emotional effects of a song depends upon the character of the action by which the sounds are produced. . . . But this leaves unexplained the more subtle and specific effect which we call the musical expression of a song, the delight given by its melody, or even by the separate sounds which make up the melody. This is an effect indefinable in language — one which, as far as I am aware, no attempt has been made to analyse, and which the ingenious no KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VIII. speculation of Mr. Herbert Spencer as to the origin of music leaves quite unexplained. For it is certain that the melodic Q^toX of a series of sounds does not depend in the least upon their loudness or softness, or in their individual absolute pitch . . . The purely musical effect of any sound depends on its place in what is technically called ' a scale ; ' the same sound producing absolutely different effects on the ear, according as it is heard in connectioti with one or another series of sounds.'^ " It is on this relative association of the sounds that all the essentially characteristic effects which are summed up in the phrase ' musical expres- sion ' depend. But why certain associations of sound have such and such effect is a problem which yet remains to be solved." Now, all these remarks of Mr. Darwin, Mr. Herbert Spencer, and Mr. Litchfield, in regard to the sounds which produce the music of song, apply, more or less, to the sounds which produce the music of speech, or, in other words, the inflections of the human voice. Why words spoken in a certain key, descending by a series of concrete sounds in the musical scale, should convey to the mind the idea of stern determined will and command, as when a man (without even being seen) in such a manner pronounces merely the four words, " Let me do this ; '"' and why the very same words spoken in a different key, but with the voice ascending in the musical scale, will convey the impression of earnest entreaty and supplication, we cannot tell. They are ultimate facts beyond which we cannot go — mysteries that we cannot penetrate. We must rest content with the knowledge that the various inflections of the voice do produce certain specific different impressions upon the mind ; and that the law that such should be so, is universal as regards all the races of mankind. As far as I know, the first attempt to investigate this melody of speech in regard to our language, and to reduce it to a system of notation, was made just a century ago by Joshua Steele, who gave the result of his labours in a large 4to volume entitled "Prosodia Rationahs ; or. An Essay towards establishing the Melody and Measure of Speech to be expressed and perpetuated by Peculiar Symbols." He states in the opening chapter of the work, that he had long enter- tained opinions concerning the melody and rhythm of modern languages, and particularly of English, and was very desirous, if possible, to con-, trive a method of notation by which might be marked the varying sounds in common speech, which, it was quite clear to him, ran through a large extent between acute and grave. He appears, too, to have been the first person, in this country, at all events, who gave a true and scientific defi- nition of the essential distinction between the music of song and the music of speech — a distinction that has been accepted and adopted ever since by every author who has written on Elocution — for he says the former consists of a series of sounds moving distinctly from grave to acute or vice versa, either gradually or saltim by intervals, of which the semitone commonly so cajled, may be the common measure or division without a fraction ; and always dwelling for a perceptible space of time on one certain note, wTiereas the melody of speech moves rapidly up or down by slides, wherein no graduated distinction of tones or semitones can be Lect. VIII.] ON ELOCUTION. in measured by the ear. "Every one admits," he says, "that singing is performed by the ascent and descent of the voice through a variety of notes, as palpably and formally different from each other as the steps of a ladder." It seems, therefore, at first sight somewhat extraordinary that men of science should not have perceived the slides of the voice upwards and downwards in common speech. But the knowledge of the various distinct notes of ordinary music is not only laid open to those multitudes who learn that art, but also, being rendered visible and palpable to the unlearned by the keys of organs and such-like instruments, it happens that almost every one knows the variety of music to arise in part from the difference of acute and grave tones. In travelling through a country apparently level, how few people perceive the ascents and descents that would astonish them if the man of science were to demon- strate them by his instrument ! In like manner, when the flow of the melody of speech shall be ripened into method by art, even the vulgar may be taught to know what the learned seem now scarce to comprehend. Joshua Steele then adopted this system of notation for the music of speech. In order to mark the quantity of syllables or words, that is the duration of time during which the voice rests or dwells on the vowel in proportion as the same is long or short according to the law of the lan- guage, he took the ordinary notes in music, viz., semibreve, minim, crotchet, and quaver. The same he did in regard to pauses or rests. For the increase and diminution in the volume of the voice, he also adopted the ordinary marks of the crescendo and diminuendo and the same with all the other marks, forte, piano, &c., used in the music of song, so far as they could be made applicable to the music of speech. Then, to indicate how the voice ascended in the musical scale, he adopted this sign /, as when a man in supplication exclaims Oh ! and to show how the voice in a similar manner ^^^I descended in the scale he took the stroke \, as when a person sternly says No ! qi^ t No! and these marks have been generally used ever since, and have received the names of the marks of the rising and faUing inflections. To indicate those peculiar turns of the voice accompanied by an increase and then diminution in the volume of sound, more or less marked, and to which the names of circumflex inflections have been given, Steele adopted the following signs : — for the falling circumflex inflection, this ^ and for the rising, this^_^. These last-named inflections and their particular uses I hope I shall be able to explain clearly to you after we have sufficiently examined the two groups of the simple rising and falling inflections. You may now be interested in seeing Joshua Steele's method of notation of the music of speech applied in its entirety to a line of poetry, as an illustration, and here you have it before you as given by him. (Fig. 15.) But our author did not end his labours here. Having investigated all that seemed to lie within his power in regard to melody of speech, 112 KIXG 'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VIII. Oh, 'happiness! our teing'g end and aim! .\^M VVWVvVvvw , fVW^^v wvv\v^ aWVV\ Fig. 15- his next attempt was to discover, if possible, the laws which govern its rhythm ; and in this attempt I beheve he fully succeeded ; for his system is, I am convinced, founded on truth, and based on physiological laws. I shall reserve all explanation of it until I come to my Lecture on Poise, only remarking for the present that it was a system always main- tained and warmly advocated by the late Mr. Thelwall within these walls, as it always had been by his father previously. Joshua Steele states that when his system of noting the melody and rhythm was explained by him fully to David Garrick, the great tragedian, among many judicious remarks which he made, and questions that he put, asked the following : — " Supposing a speech by him were noted according to these rules in the exact manner in which he spoke it, would any other person by the help of these rules be able to pronounce his words in the same tones and manner, exactly as the speech had been originally delivered ? " To which Steele answered," Supposing a first-rate musician had written down a piece of music, which he had played exquisitely well on an exceedingly fine-toned violin ; another performer on an ordinary fiddle might undoubtedly play every note the same as the great master, though, perhaps, with less ease and elegance of expression ; but still, notwithstanding his correctness in the tune and manner, nothing could prevent the audience from perceiving that the natural tone of his instrument was execrable. So, though these rules will enable a master to teach a just application of the rules when the voice should rise in the musical scale, and when it should fall, though it will make the pupil acquainted with the laws of poise, emphasis, and all the other proper expressions of the voice in reading and speaking, Avhich will go a great way in the improvetfient of Elocution, yet they cannot give a full, sweet, and flexible voice, where it has been denied by nature." A very wise and judicious answer of Mr. Steele, which puts elocution in its true hght, and gives it neither more nor less than its just claim and assigns it what is its undoubted due. Under a proper system of instruction, and with careful regular practice on the part of the pupil, even voices weak in power and poor in qualify may be much strengthened and improved, and an indifferent reader or speaker rendered much better ; but still, where the vocal and speech organs are naturally ill-formed or defective, or if taste, imagination, and feeling be Lect. VIII.] ON ELOCUTION. 113 wanting, not the most skilful master in the world will be able to make such a pupil an absolutely good reader or speaker. That the Greeks and Romans in the old classic times knew perfectly well what we now call the inflections and modulations of the voice and the uses served by them in oratory, though they have left no analysis or system of principles in regard to their application for our instruction, is perfectly evident from what Quintilian says ; for in Book XI. c. 3, occurs the following passage : — "The second observation on the true manage- ment of the voice relates to variety^ which alone constitutes an eloquent delivery. And let it not be imagined that the equability of the voice already recommended is inconsistent with variety ; for unevenness is the fault opposite to equability, and the opposite to variety is that monotony which consists in one unvaried form or tone of expression. The art of varying the tones of the voice, not only affords pleasure and relief to the hearer; but by the alternation of exercise relieves the speaker, as changes of posture and motions, of standing, walking, sitting, and lying are grateful, and we cannot for a long time submit to any one of them. The voice is to be adapted to the subject and the feelings of the mind, so as not to be at variance with the expressions ; this is the great art. We should, therefore, guard against that uniformity of character called by the Greeks monotony {fiomih-hi). , . Even in the same passages, and in the expression of the same feelings, there must be in the voice certain nice changes, according as the dignity of the language, the nature of the sentiments, the beginning, the conclusion, or the transitions require. For painters, who confine themselves only to one colour, nevertheless bring out some parts more strongly and touch others more faintly ; and this they are obliged to do, in order to preserve the just forms and lines of their figures." The first writer who took up Joshua Steele's theory in regard to these inflections of the voice and expanded them into a very full and elaborate treatise, was John Walker, the author of the well-known pro- nouncing dictionary. It may be read with some interest by the curious in such matters, but it is so exceedingly elaborate in the niceties to which it carries the rules for inflection of the voice in regard to almost every conceivable form of sentence, that I could not recommend it to any one just entering on the study of elocution, as a work likely to be of much practical utility. It has, however, some useful remarks in regard to the theory of inflection, and the uses it serves in speaking and reading, which I think I may endeavour to epitomise with some advantage. Mr. Walker introduces the subject by showing how necessary proper pauses are in order to convey the sense of any sentence which we speak or read, and then goes on to assert that besides these pauses, which indicate a greater or less separation of the parts of a sentence, and a conclusion of the whole, there are certain slides of the voice, or inflections (as they are termed), which accompany those pauses, which, indeed, are as necessary to the full sense of the sentence as the pauses themselves ; for, however exactly we may pause between those parts which are separable, if we do not pause with such an inflection of voice as is suited to the sense, the composition we read will not only H 114 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VIII. want its true meaning, but will have a meaning, indeed, very different from that intended by the writer. How desirable, therefore, must any effort be that can notify to us that particular inflection of voice which is best suited to convey to the hearer the full sense of the passage read or spoken ! But it is not unlikely that this at first sight may be pronounced by some to be impossible. What ! (it will be said) will any one pretend to convey to us upon paper, all that force, beauty, variety, and harmony, which a good reader throws into composition when he enters into the full spirit of his author, and displays every part of it to the best advantage? No (it may be answered), this is not attempted ; but because all this cannot be done, is it impossible to do any part of it ? Because the exact time of pausing is not always denoted by the points in use, is it valueless to have any marks of pausing at all? Because the precise degree of emphatic force is not conveyed by printing some words in a different character, cannot we sometimes assist the reader in apprehending the comparative force or feebleness of pronunciation by printing the emphatic words in letters of a different type ? The practice of this in books of instruction sufficiently shows it is not entirely useless; and, if executed with more judgment, there is little doubt of its being rendered still more useful. The truth is, something relative to the pronunciation can be con- veyed by written words, and something cannot The pauses between sentences and members of sentences may be conveyed ; the emphasis on any particular word in a sentence may be conveyed; and it is presumed it can be also demonstrated that certain inflections of the voice which show the import of the pauses, form the harmony of a cadence, distinguish emphasis into different kinds, and give each kind its specific and determinate meaning, may be as clearly conveyed upon paper as any of the foregoing elements in pronunciation. Though they were contemporaries, it is rather curious that neither in the elaborate works of Steele nor Walker do we find any allusion made by one to the other; and of the theory of the poise, the dis- tinctive feature in Steele's "Prosodia Rationalis," and on which he based his whole system of measure in speech. Walker appears to be entirely ignorant. But Steele's theory and definition of the inflections he accepts fully ; for he admits that all vocal sounds are capable of being divided into two kinds, viz. : musical sounds and speaking sounds ; and his definition is just the same as Steele's, for he says that musical sounds are such as continue a given time on the precise point of the musical scale, and leap, as it were, from one note to another ; while speaking sounds, instead of dwelling on the note they begin with, slide either upwards or downwards to the neighbouring notes without, save on very rare occasions, any perceptible rest on any ; so that speaking and musical sounds are essentially distinct ; the former being generally in motion from the moment they commence ; the latter usually being at rest for some given time on one precise note. The difficulty of arresting speaking sounds for examination, he says, has made all authors suppose it impossible to give any such distinct account of them, as to be of use in speaking and reading : and, indeed, the wonderful variety Lect. VIII.] ON ELOCUTION. 115 of tones which a good reader or speaker throws into delivery, and of which it is impossible to convey any idea but by imitation, has led us easily to suppose that nothing at all of this variety can be defined and reduced to rules. But when we consider that whether words are pronounced in a high or low key ; in a loud or soft tone ; whether they are pronounced swiftly or slowly, forcibly or feebly ; they must neces- sarily be pronounced either sliding upwards or sliding downwards, or else go into a monotone ; when we consider all this, we shall find that the primary division of all speaking sounds is into the upward and downward slides of the voice ; and that whatever other diversity of time, tone, force, &c., may be added to speaking or reading, it must necessarily be chiefly conveyed by these two sHdes. Consequently, these two slides, or inflections of the voice, are the axis, as it were, on which the variety, power, melody, and general effect of all speaking and reading must turn. They may be considered as the great outlines of pronunciation; and if these outlines can be tolerably conveyed to a reader, they must be of nearly the same use to him that the rough draught of a picture is to a pupil in the art of painting. I trust, therefore, now that you clearly understand what an inflection of the voice is ; that it is not the key or pitch of the voice in which the whole word is pronounced, neither is it that loudness or softness which may accompany any key ; but that the ordinary simple rising or falling inflection is just that upward or downward slide which the voice makes in pronouncing a word or clause of a sentence ; and which is specially perceptible even to the unpractised ear, when the vowel in the word on which the inflection chiefly takes place happens to be long in point of quantity — as when I ask this question, " Does Caesar deserve fame or blkme ? " I am sure if you listen to me, or if you pronounced the question yourselves, you cannot but perceive that, from the beginning of the word " fame " till its close, the voice is sliding upward in the musical scale; whilst, on the contrary, in pronouncing the word "blkme " the voice, from the commencement to the end of the word, was sliding as evidently downward in the scale. Our great orator and statesman, and present Prime Minister, the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, in a communication with which he kindly favoured me on this subject and gives me permission to quote, says at the close — " Accent is not to be confounded with emphasis. It may be best defined as musical pitch, which is a matter entirely distinct from em- phasis, as it is from time. We really in our speeches, as indeed in ordinary conversation, run up and down the musical scale without giving any heed to it ; not, it is true, with the separate and full notes of song, but with partially formed notes that melt or slide, as it were, into one another, either ascending or descending in the musical scale. Yours faithfully, ">«^ii^/m877. "W. E. GLADSTONE. C.J. Plumptre, Esq." In my next Lecture I hope to be able to give you some plain general ii6 KTNG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VIII. rules for the right use of these inflections ; and, in drawing my remarks to a close this evening, I would only impress upon you that so im- portant is the right use of these two inflections, that the moment they are neglected our reading and speaking become expressionless and monotonous; and if they are misemployed, the cultivated taste is not only offended, but the sense and meaning of the sentences we pronounce often totally destroyed. If the meaning of a passage should require the voice to use the rising inflection on any particular word, either in the middle or at the end of a phrase, variety and melody demand the falling inflection on one of the preceding words; and, on the contrary, if completion of sense, melody, emphasis, or any other principle, should require that the falling inflection should be used on any particular word, it will be found that the word immediately preceding almost always demands the rising inflection ; so that, as a general rule, it may be said that these two inflections of the voice are, in point of order, nearly alternate. You will notice that this is very observable when we read a sentence and discover that we have made a mistake in the connection between the clauses, either by supposing the sense is to be continued when it really is completed, or by supposing it completed when it really is to be Jf thou dost stan — der her and tor — tur-e me. ^ ^ ^^ Atf^ ^ m^ ^^ 9^ AM' Ne — ver pray more: a — han—don all re — morse; ^ ti^ tr ^ */■ ^ ^ •('•^ On hor— rorv 'head hor — ror's ac — eu — nm — late; Ho deeds io make He a — ven weep, all earth a — mazed; Far no — iking canst ihou to dam — na — Hon add. •^ ^ m^ m/ 1 1 Great — er than that. continued ; for in either of these cases we find it necessary to return pretty far back to some of the preceding words in order to give them Lect. VII I.] ON ELOCUTION. 117 such inflections as are suitable to those which the sense requires on the succeeding words. We are indebted to America for what is, as far as I know, the most elaborate work that has yet appeared on the inflections of the voice, viz., the large 8vo volume, entitled " The Philosophy of the Human Voice," by Dr. James Rush of Philadelphia, and which has now gone through, I believe, eight or nine editions. It is well worthy perusal by those who wish to study the subject in all its minuteness of detail. Dr. Rush invented a peculiar form of notation of his own for the purpose of typifying the mode in which the vowel sounds in the music of speech seem, as it were, to gradually end in what he terms a "vanishing point," of which the foregoing is an illustration. Another work which may be studied with the greatest advantage, and which we owe to France, is the " Traite Theorique et Pratique de la Declamation pour la Chaise, pour le Barreau, et a I'usage ce ceux qui lisent en pubUc," by the Abbe Thibout, a new edition of which, by M. De Pradel, has lately been published. The Abbe Thibout for his system of notation in elocution adopts the ordinary notes of music, though he points out how in practice the music of speech must necessarily differ from the music of song. I show you here an illustration of the Abbe's system of notation. EXEMPLE D'ExCLAMATION INTERROGATIVE. lA-: l^ii ?^: Com - ment tu la - che teur de la sainte ExEMPLE d' Admiration Interrog.\tive. zizz:=:4 :E Com - ment est mort cet hom - me puis - sant :3E :a^=i===1--=q^ =1= H^^- i qui sau vait le peu pie d'ls - ra -« — el? In concluding this Lecture on the Theory of the Inflections of the Voice, I may remark, as a preface to my next Lecture on the principles that govern their practical application in reading and speaking, that three degrees are commonly assigned to each of the classes of inflection ; and ii8 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. VIIL no doubt such a classification is very useful for practice, but while the principle of the application of each class of inflection is easily and clearly defined and well understood, yet the degrees of each class must be left much to the individual taste and judgment of each reader and speaker, and many more than three degrees of each inflection are certainly to be heard in a well-trained and cultivated voice. As a rule, you will always remark that the more powerful the emotion or passion under which a man speaks, the wider is the range which the voice takes in the rising or faUing inflection, according as the particular emotion or passion is one that nature always makes us convey either by one or the other, as, for instance, supplication by a rising, and stern denial by a falling inflection. A few excellent remarks on "time" in deUvery may not inappropri- ately be introduced here. They are those of the late Mr. George Henry Lewes, and will be found in a very interesting work published five years ago (Smith, Elder, & Co., 1875), entitled, "On Actors and Acting." He says (p. 194) : "The great difficulty in Elocution is to be slow, and not to seem slow. To speak the phrases with such distinctness, and such management of the breath, that each shall tell, yet due proportion be maintained. Hurry destroys the effect ; and actors hurry because they dread, and justly dread, the heaviness of a slow utterance. The art is so to manage the time that it shall not appear slow to the hearer ; and this is an art very rarely understood by actors. No sooner have they to express excitement or emotion of any kind, than they seem to lose all mastery over the rhythm and cadence of their speech. Let them study great speakers, and they will find that, in passages which seem rapid, there is a measured rhythm, and that, even in the whirlwind of passion, there is as strict regard to ' tempo ' as in passionate music. Resistant flexibility is the perfection of elocution." Sanson, the excellent Professor of Elocution, tells us how — " D'un mot plaisant, terrible, ou tendre ; On double la valeur en le faisant attendre," a point well understood by the elder Kean, who, however, allowed his pauses to degenerate into tricks. Sanson adds — " Tantot I'agile voix se pr^cipite et vole, Tantot il faut savoir ralentir sa parole. Ignorant de son art, les plus vulgaires lois Plus d'un acteur se laisse entrainer par sa voix ; Sa rapide parole etourdit I'auditoire ; • II semble concourir pour un prix de m^moire." Again, at p. 209 of the same work, Mr. G. H. Lewes, speaking of the Drama in Germany, says: " Be the reasons what they may, the result is that, always in a German Hof Theater, one is sure of the very best ensemble that the company can present ; and one will often receive as much pleasure from the performance of quite insignificant parts as from Lect. VIII.] UN ELOCUTION. 1I9 the leading parts on other stages. The actors are thoroughly trained ; they know Xhe pri7idples of their art — a very different thing from know- ing ' the business.' They pay laudable attention to one supremely important point, recklessly disregarded on our stage — namely, Elocu- tion. They know how to speak — -both prose and verse ; to speak with- out mouthing, yet with effective cadence ; speech elevated above the tone of conversation, yet without being stilted. How many actors are there on our stage who have learned this ? How many are there who suspect the mysterious charm which lies in rhythm and have mas- tered its music ? How many are there who, with an art which is not apparent, except to the very critical ear, can manage the cadences and emphases of prose, so as to be at once perfectly easy, natural, yet incisive and effective ? " @ 1 ^ ^ M ^ ~ ^^B ^Si »B^^M @ taBH 1 LECTURE IX. The Rising Inflection of the Voice— Principles that govern its application in regard to the Logical expression of Clauses and Sentences : (i) Where the meaning is as yet Incomplete ; (2) Where Clauses or Sentences are Negative in Construction ; (3) To connect Kindred Thoughts together ; (4) Where Clauses or Sentences are Contingent ; (5) Interrogative Sentences that can be answered by a simpU Affirma- tive or Negative — Principles that govern the Rising Inflection in regard to Emotional Expression: (l) Where Sentences convey Appeal of any kind ; (2) Where Sentences are in the nature of Supplication or Prayer ; (3) Where Sentences expre ,_/ '^ Fig. 1 6. Grave-acute. This is now called the rising circumflex. The other compound inflection consists first of a simple rise of the voice to a note more or less high in the musical scale, then turns and slides downward, ending with a falling inflection. Steele termed it the acuto-grave inflection, and represented its different degrees thus — 174 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XI. Fig. 17. Acuto-grave. This is now generally called the falling circumflex. In the formation of both the rising and the falling circumflexes the following principle is to be observed : — The voice reaches the middle or turfiifig point in the pronunciation of a single syllable ; but the termina- tion may be prolonged through any number of subsequent unaccented syllables. As you will see by the diagrams, the termination of a circum- flex inflection may extend to the same pitch as the commencement, or it may fall short of it, or extend beyond it ; but the intensity of the expression will of course vary with the degree of range. Now, then, let me endeavour, by the illustrations which I am about to give, to make you acquainted with the sound of these various degrees of rising and faUing circumflexes, and the principles which govern their application. And the first use, and one of the most general uses, of a circumflex inflection is to suggest an antithesis to the mind, without openly expressing it in words. When we come to reflect upon it, is it not a wonderful thing that a mere peculiar inflection or turn of the voice should have the power of suggesting to the fnind whole trains of ideas which are not embodied in language ? And yet such is the unques- tionable effect of a circumflex. For instance, when I pronounce this sentence with the circumflex inflections as here marked, and say — " The labour of years is often insufficient for a complete reformation, and Divine help is needed to keep us in the path of virtue." Do I not, when I say " the labour of years " imply that it is not the labour of iveeks or months 1 When I speak of " a complete reformation," do I not suggest — not a partial reformation? When I assert that " Divine help is needed," do I not lead you to infer that the help of man is not sufficient ? And lastly, when I speak of Divine help being needed to keep us in " the path of virtue," do I not imply that we can tread the path of vice readily enough by ourselves ? Thus, then, you see, in this simple sentence we have had four distinct ideas suggested to our minds by these four circumflexes being used on the words marked with the sign of that peculiar inflection. These circumflexes, like the other inflections, may, as regards their uses, be classified in two divisions, viz., (i) those which serve certain purposes in the logical expression of the meaning implied or expressed of certain forms of sentences, and (2) those which aid in emotional expression. Let us take these, then, in their due order ; and, as regards the former division, I should give the following as Rule 1. — When any word is introduced which suggests an antithesis without openly expressing it, such word should have emphatic force, Lect. XL] ON ELOCUTION. I75 and be pronounced with a circumflex inflection. An affirmative or positive clause takes a falling, and a negative or contingent clause a rising circumflex on the words suggesting an antithesis. Illustrations for Practice. 1. Swear priests, and cowards, and men cautelous, Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls That welcome wrongs : unto bad causes swear Such creatures as men doubt. 2. You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life That should be in- a Roman, you do want, Or else you use not. 3. Why so can I ! So every bondman in his own hand bears The power to cancel his captivity. 4. I am debating of my present store, And by the near guess of my memory I cannot instantly raise up the gross Of full three thousand ducats. 5. Never fear that ; if he be so resolved, I can o'er sway him ; for he loves to hear That unicorns may be betrayed with trees, Lions with toils, and men with flatterers ; But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being then most flattered. 6. But were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony, Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. 7. You say you are a better soldier ; Let it appear so : make your vaunting true And it shall please me well. For mine own part I shall be glad to learn of noble men. 8. Remember thee ? Ay ! thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee ? l^t KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [I,ECT. XI. Yea, from the table of my memory, I'll wipe away all trivial fond record, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain. Unmixed with baser matter. 9. Believe me, noble lord, I am a stranger here in Glo'stershire. These high, wild hills, and rough, uneven ways Draw out our miles and make them wearisome ; And I bethink me what a weary way From Ravensburg to Cotswold will be found In Ross and Willoughby wanting your company, Which, I protest, hath very much beguil'd The tediousness and process of my travel. 10. The mercy that was quick in us but late. By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd. You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy ; For your own reasons turn into your bosoms, As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. 11. Gentlemen, the time has now arrived when you have to perform your part in this great trial. You are now to pronounce upon a publi- cation, the truth of which is not controverted. The case is with you ; it belongs to you exclusively to decide it. His Lordship cannot control your decision ; and it belongs to you alone to say, whether or not, upon the entire matter, you conceive it evidence of guilt, or deserving of punishment. 12. Justice is not a halt and miserable object ; it is not the ineffective bauble of an Indian Pagod : it is not the portentous phantom of despair; it is not like any fabled monster formed in the eclipse of reason and found in some unhallowed grove of superstitious darkness and political dismay. No, my Lords, Justice resembles none of these ! Rule II. — When words or clauses are antithetic in meaning, and emphatic in character, the falling circumflex inflection should be used on the positive or absolute member, and the rising on the negative or relative. lect. XL] ON- elocution: 177 Illustrations for Pi act ice. 1. Seems, Madam ! nay, it is ; I know not seems. Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage. Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief. That can denote me truly. These, indeed, seem ; For they are actions that a man might play : But I have that within which passeth show. These but the trappings and the suits of woe. 2. It must be by his death, and for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn at him. But for the general. He would be crown'd — How that might change his nature, there's the question : It is the bright day that brings forth the adder And that craves wary walking. 3. Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, To cut the head off, and then hack the limbs. Like wrath in death, and envy afterwards ; For Antony is but a limb of Caesar. Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius, We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar ; And in the spirit of man there is no blood : O that we then could come by Caesar's spirit And not dismember Csesar ; but alas ! Caesar must bleed for it. — And gentle friends, Let's kill him boldly — but not wrathfuUy 3 Let's carve him as a dish fit for the Gods, Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds. 4. Cowards die many times before their death, The valiant never taste of death but once : Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear, Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come, when it will come. 178 K'ING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XI. 5. O Father Cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in Heaven : If this be true, I shall see my .boy again. For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, To him that did but yesterday suspire, There was not such a gracious creature born ; But now will canker sorrow eat my bud, • And chase the native beauty from his cheek, And so he'll die : and, rising so again. When I shall meet him in the Court of Heaven I shall not know him ; therefore, never, never Must I behold my pretty Arthur more. 6. Thou sayest that I have many years to live. But not a minute. King, that thou canst give . Shorten my days, thou canst with sullen sorrow, And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow. Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage : Thy word is current with him for my death, But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. 7. Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour, You urged me as a judge : but I had rather You would have bid me argue like a father. Oh, had it been a stranger, not my child, To smooth his fault, I should have been more mild. A partial slander sought I to avoid. And in the sentence my own life destroyed. 8. All places that the eye of Heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus : There is no virtue like necessity : Think not the King did banish thee. But thou the King : woe doth the heavier sit, Where it perceives it is but faintly borne ; Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour. And not the King exiled thee : or suppose Lect. XI.] ON ELOCUTION. 179 Devouring pestilence hangs in our air, And thou art flying to a fresher clime : Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou coia'st ; Suppose the singing birds, musicians, The grass whereon thou tread'st, the presence strew'd, The flowers, fair ladies, and thy steps, no more Than a delightful measure or a dance ; For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light. 9. My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time. And makes as healthful music. It is not madness That I have uttered : bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word, which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass but my madness speaks. It will but skin and film the ulcerous place. Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, Infects unseen, 10. It is not night when I do see your iace. Therefore I think I am not in the night ; Nor doth this wood lack worlds of company, For you, in my respect, are all the world. Then how can it be said I am alone, When all the world is here to look on me ? II. True liberal charity is wisely divided amongst man}', and propor- tioned to the objects upon which it rests. It is not, it cannot be, con- fined to near relations, intimate friends, or particular favourites. These it will never neglect ; nay, to these its first attentions are naturally directed. But whatever may be its partialities to those immediately connected with us, or who love and resemble us, it cannot remain under these restrictions. The principle which gave it birth extends its influence in every possible direction. The objects which solicit the friendly aid of charity are many and various. Here we find the afSicted body, — there the grieved mind. Here tx. mourning desolate widow, — there ^q%- titute orphans. — Perhaps both together sitting in silent dejection, or iSo KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XI. agitated with all the violence of grief. At one time we hear the plaintive voice of the solitary mourner — at another, the united cries of a numerous starving family. Turn to the one hand, and feeble totter- ing age requests support — turn to the other hand, and the deserted infant, or neglected youth, requires a kind interposition. These, and many similar cases of urgent necessity, claim the attention and care of the compassionate and generous. 12. The true Christian spirit of moderation, of charity, of universal benevolence, has prevailed in the people, has prevailed in the clergy of all ranks and degrees, instead of those narrow principles, those bigoted passions, that furious, that implacable, that ignorant zeal, which had often done so much hurt both to the church and the state. But from the ill-understood, insignificant act of parhament you are now moved to repeal, occasion has been taken to deprive us of this inestimable advan- tage. It is a pretence to disturb the peace of the church, to infuse idle fears into the minds of the people, and make religion itself an engine of sedition. It behoves the piety, as well as the wisdom of parUament, to disappoint those endeavours. Sir, the very worst mischief that can be done to religion, is to pervert it to the purposes of faction. The most impious wars ever made were those called holy wars. He who hates another man for not being a Christian, is himself not a Christian. Chris- tianity, sir, breathes love, and peace, and goodwill to man. I now proceed to notice the principal uses of the circumflex in regard, to Emotional Expression. I said in the earlier part of this Lecture that it seemed to me very marvellous that a mere compound of two opposite slides of the voice in the musical scale (such as the circumflex inflections are) should have the power of suggesting ideas to the mind without such ideas being embodied in language. Not less wonderful does it seem to me that another kind of circumflex should have the power of completely conveying to the mind of the hearer the very opposite of what the words literally signify. And yet such it must be admitted is the case, for if I use what is termed a prolonged emphatic circumflex, pitching the voice in certain keys on whatsoever words I employ such inflection, I in- stantly make them ironical, that is, of course, I convey to the hearer that I really mean the very opposite of what the words in their gramma- tical sense import : as, for instance, when I say — '* Oh yes, he is a man of honour indeed. His words and deeds show it. He would be a gain to our society." — No one, I should think, would like a witness to his good character to testify to it using these inflections, for the most uncultivated would at once perceive that the speaker really meant the very opposite of what he said. Lect. XL] ON ELOCUTION. i8i When this peculiar inflection, to which the name of the prolonged emphatic circumflex has been given, is analysed, it is found to consist of the ordinary compound fall, finishing with a rising inflection, the voice reaching the second turning point in the pronunciation of the accented syllable or word. It is sometimes spoken of as the Rising Double Wave, and is certainly one of the most expressive of the inflec- tions. For its use I should give this as Rule I. — Whenever it is designed to make any passage ironical, an emphatic prolonged circumflex inflection should be given to the words in which the irony is meant to be conveyed. Illustrations for Practice. 1. You, my lords, and fathers (As you are pleased to call yourselves), of Venice, If you sit here to guide the course of Justice ; Why these disgraceful chains upon the limbs That have so often laboured in your service ? Are these the wreaths of triumph you bestow On those who brought you conquest, home, and honours ? Are these the trophies I have deserved for fighting Your battles with confederated powers ? 2. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny, They that have done this deed are honourable. What private griefs they have, alas ! I know not That made them do it : they are wise and honourable And will no doubt with reason answer you. .•^. Lie there ! possess the land thy valour gains, And measure at thy length our Latian plains : Such rich-deserved rewards I still bestow. When called in battle, on the vaunting foe : Thus may you build your town, and thus enjoy These realms, ye proud, contemptuous sons of Troy ! 4. Satan beheld their plight, And to his mates thus in derision called : — " O friends ! why come not on those victors proud ? Erewhile they fierce were coming ; and when we — To entertain them fair with open front And breast (what could we more ?) — propounded terms Of composition, straight they changed their minds. Flew off, and into strange vagaries fell As they would dance : yet, for a dance, they seemed lS2 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XI. Somewhat extravagant and wild — perhaps For joy of offered peace : but, I suppose, If our proposals once again were heard, We should compel them to a quick result." 5. This is some honest fellow Who having been praised for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness and constrains the garb Quite from his nature. He can't flatter, he An honest mind and plain, he must speak truth, An they will take it so ; if not he's plain. These kind of knaves I know, which in this plainness Harbour more craft and more corrupted ends Than twenty silly ducking servitors That stretch their duties nicely. 6. Say, that she rail ; why then I'll tell her plain She sings as sweetly as a nightingale ; Say, that she frown ; I'll say she looks as clear As morning roses newly washed with dew ; Say, she be mute, and will not speak a word, Then I'll commend her volubility. And say she uttereth piercing eloquence. 7. Good, my Lord, You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory Of your best graces in your mind, the which ♦ You were now running o'er ; you have scarce time To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span, To keep your earthly audit ; sure in that I deem you an ill husband, and am glad To have you therein my companion. 8. Fairly answered, A loyal and obedient subject is Therein illustrated ; the honour of it Does pay the act of it, as i' th' contrary, The foulness is the punishment. — Take notice, Lords, he has a loyal breast For you have see him open't. 9. The trade of medicine's easiest of all : 'Tis but to study all things — everywhere — Nature and man — the great world and the small — Then leave them at haphazard still to fare. It is, you see, plainly impossible That one man should be skilled in every science. Lect. XL] ON ELOCUTION. 183 Who learns the little that he can, does well : The secret of this art is self-reliance. A man can learn but what he can ; Who hits the moment is the man. You are well made j have common sense, And do not want for impudence ; Be fearless, others will confide no less, When you are confident of your success ; The only obstacle is indecision ; But, above all, win to yourself the women — They have their thousand weaknesses and aches, And the one cure for them is the Physician. A due consideration for the sex Will teach the value of decorous seeming ; Let but appearances be unsuspicious And they are everything their Doctor wishes. 10. Sweet pastime this ! most charming occupation ! Delight indeed ! yes. transcendental rapture ! In night and dew lying among the hills, In ecstasy embracing earth and heaven, To swell up till you are a kind of god — To pierce into the marrow of the earth In a god's fancies — all the six days' task Of the creation in thy breast to feel — And in the pride of conscious power enjoy I know not what of bliss, — to cherish love That has no limits, but must overflow Till it loves everything that is, till earth And man's poor nature, in the trance forgotten. Has passed away, and then the glorious hour Of intuition ending — how it ends I must not say. 11. And it came to pass at noon that Elijah mocked them, and said, ' Cry aloud : for he is a God : either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth and must be awaked. 12. Thy integrity got thee absolved; thy modesty drew thee out of danger ; and the innocency of thy past life saved thee ; for you meant no harm : oh, no : your thoughts are innocent ; you have nothing to hide ; your breast is pure, stainless, all truth. Rule II. — All passages that express scorn, contempt, or reproach, take emphatic prolonged circumflexes on the principal words, the keys l84 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XT. in which the voice is pitched varying according to the dominant emotion.* Illustrations for Practice. 1. "What ! shall one of us That struck the foremost man in all this world, But for supporting robbers ; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ? And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog and bay the moon Than such a Roman. 2. You say you are a better soldier ; Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well : For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. 3. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats ; For I am armed so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me ; — For I can raise no money by vile means : By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions. Which you denied me : was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answered Caius Cassius so ? When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous. To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts. Dash him to pieces ! 4. Wherefore rejoice ? that Caesar comes in triumph ! What conquest brings he home ? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ? You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! Oh, you hard hearts ! you cruel men of Rome ! Knew you not Pompey ? many a time and oft Have you climbed up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The livelong day with patient expectation. To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome ; * See Lecture on the Modulation of the Voice. Lect. XL] ON EL CUT/ON. 185 And when you saw his chariot but appear, Have you not made a universal shout, That Tiber trembled underneath his banks To hear the replication of your sounds Made in his concave shores ? And do you now put on your best attire ? And do you now cull out a holiday ? And do you now strew flowers in his way That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ? Begone Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, Pray to the gods to intermit the plagues That needs must light on this ingratitude. 5. All this ? ay, more : Fret till your proud heart break ; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge ? Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you ; for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish. 6. Thou Jafifier ! thou, my once lov'd, valu'd friend ! By heav'n thou li'st ; the man so call'd my friend, Was generous, honest, faithful, just, and valiant ; Noble in his mind, and in his person lovely ; Dear to my eyes, and tender to my heart : But thou, a wretched, base, false, worthless coward, Poor even in soul, and loathsome in thy aspect ; All eyes must shun thee, and all hearts detest thee. Prithee avoid, nor longer cling thus round me, Like something baneful, that my nature's chill'd at. 7. Life ! ask my life ! confess ! record myself A villain for the privilege to breathe, And carry up and down this cursed city A discontented and repining spirit, Burthensome to itself, a few years longer, To lose it, may be, at last, in a lewd quarrel For some new friend, treacherous and false as thou art ? No, this vile world and I have long been jangling And cannot part on better terms than now ; When only men like thee are fit to live in't. 8. I was born free as Csesar ; so were you : We both have fed as well ; and we can both Endure the winter's cold as well as he. i86 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XI. For once, upon a raw and gusty day, The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, Caesar said to me, " Barest thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point ?" — Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bade him follow : so indeed he did. The torrent roared, and we did buffet it With lusty sinews ; throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of controversy. But ere we could arrive the point proposed. Cgesar cried, " Help me, Cassius, or I sink." I, as /Eneas, our great ancestor, Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber, Did I the tired Csesar ; and this man Is now become a god ; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And, when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake ; His coward lips did from their colour fly ; And that same eye, whose bend does awe the world Did lose its lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, Alas ! it cried, " Give me some drink, Titinius," As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world, And bear the palm alone. 9. Mock-king, I am the messenger of God, His Norman Daniel ! Mene, Mene, Tekel ! Is thy wrath Hell that I should spare to cry, Yon heaven is wrath with thee ? Hear me again . Our saints have moved the church that moves the world, And all the Heavens, and very God, they heard : They know King Edward's promise and thine — thine. Now bide the doom of God. Hear it through me. The realm for which thou art forsworn is cursed ; The babe enwomb'd, and at the breast is cursed ; The corpse thou 'whelmest with thine earth is cursed ; The soul who fighteth on thy side is cursed ; The seed thou sowest in thy field is cursed ] The steer wherewith thou plow'st thy fields is cursed ; The fowl that flieth o'er thy field is cursed ; And all for thee — for thee, usurper, liar ! Lect. XL] ON ELOCUTION. 1S7 10. Poor child of earth ! and could'st thou then have borne Thy Hfe till now without my aid ? 'Twas I That saved thee from imaginations idle ; I guarded thee with long and anxious care ; And but for me even now thou would'st have been Idling in other worlds ! Why sittest thou there, Lingering in hollow cave or sifted rock, Dull as the moping owl ? Why, like the toad, Dost thou support a useless life, deriving Subsistence from damp moss and dripping stone ? 11, Do you think to frighten me? you! Do you think to turn me from any purpose that I have, or any course I am resolved upon, by reminding me of the solitude of this place and there being no help near? Me, who am here alone designedly? If I had feared you, should I not have avoided you ? If I feared you, should I be here in the dead of night, telling you to your face what I am going to tell ? But I tell you nothing until you go back to that chair — except this once again. Do not dare to come near me — not a step nearer. I have something lying here that is no love trinket ; and sooner than endure your touch once more, I would use it on you — and you know it while I speak — with less reluctance than I would on any other creeping thing that lives. 12. As a private man, you are unworthy of my anger, beneath con- tempt. In that capacity you have every claim to compassion that can arise from misery and distress. The condition you are reduced to would disarm a private enemy of his resentment, and leave no consola- tion to the most vindictive spirit, but that such an object as you are would disgrace the dignity of revenge. But in the relation you have borne to this country, you have no title to indulgence ; and if I had followed the dictates of my own opinion, I never should have allowed you the respite of a moment. I should scorn to keep terms with a man who preserves no measures with the public. Neither the abject submis- sion of deserting his post in the hour of danger, nor even the sacred shield of cowardice, should protect him. I would pursue him through life, and try the last exertion of my abilities to preserve the perishable infamy of his name, and make it immortal ! I have now finished all that I have to say with regard to the general principles that govern the application of the inflections of the voice to reading and speaking, and I have only now to mention some points that have reference to the several classes of the inflections. In regard to a simple rising inflection, the beginning, relatively to the end, is low ; of a simple falling inflection, it is relatively high. It is to be noticed, too, that the inflection always begins on the accented syllable, which is thus pitched, it may be raid, comparatively low for a rising, high for a falling inflection ; and that the rise or fall is continued directly upward or downward from the accented syllable through whatever number of secondarily accented syllables may follow. iSS KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. [Lect. XT. I have spoken in general terms of simple rising and falling inflections, as well as of rising and falling compound inflections or circumflexes ; but it must be always borne in mind that in proportion to the degree in which the voice rises or falls in the musical scale, much of the logical as well as the emotional expression of a sentence depends. The final inflection of a clause or sentence, rising or falling through the interval only of a semitone, is chiefly plaintive, and expresses melancholy, dejection, and subdued grief or pathos. If the falling inflection descends through the interval of a tone (or a musical second), it conveys simply the logical completion of the meaning of a clause or sentence, but without any passion or feeling being expressed ; if the inflection rises through the interval of a tone, it merely shows that the logical meaning of the clause or sentence is in progress of development, but conveys no emotion. If the rising inflection is carried through the interval of a tone and a half (or in music, a minor third), the inflection becomes strongly plaintive, and characterises all pathetic appeals ; whilst, if the inflection falls to the same extent, it marks all assertions with an air of grief and lamentation. If the voice rises through an interval of two tones (or a major third), it expresses strongly doubt, appeal, and inquiry, and if it falls in the same degree it conveys strong assertion. When the voice rises through the greater intervals of the musical fifth, or, still more, the interval of the octave, it expresses earnest appeal, wonder, amazement, and exclamation \ while if it falls through these intervals it expresses the strongest conviction, command, reprehension, hate, and all the sterner passions. A similar increase of meaning or emotion characterises the extent to which the rising or falling circumflexes may be carried in those cases where they are specially applicable. Those students who may desire to study more fully the various points of analogy existing between the music of song and the music of speech, will find them very carefully and minutely considered and copiously illustrated in ]\I. De Pradel's enlarged edition of the Abbe Thibout's Action Oratoire, ou Ti-aite Thcorique et Pratique de la Declamation^ pour la Chaire, pour le Barreau, et a V usage de tous ceux qui lisent en Public, ou qui dell te?it tin dtscours quelconque, published in 1846. LECTURE XII. I Modulation of the Human Voice — Explanation of ilie term Modulation when used in reference to Reading and Speaking — The views of Walker, Sheridan, and Bell — • The Rev. G. Sandlands on a mode of developing the Sense of Modulation in Speech — Illustrations of Different Keys in Modulation — General Rules for the Modulation of the Voice. AVING finished the subject of the Inflections of the Voice, I have now to bring before your notice what is termed the Modulation of the Voice, that is, a knowledge of the various keys of the speaking voice in which those inflections are pitched, and the principles on which, from time to time, they are varied. A person may use quite proper inflections in reading and speaking, and yet, from keeping entirely to one key, or shifting from key to key improperly, without any system or method, possibly resorting to high keys when he should take low, or vice versa, may wholly fail to produce the effect he would desire ; nay, it may be, the very opposite effect would be the result. Before I proceed further in the subject, let me guard you against a mistake that is frequently made, and that is, confounding the terms " high " and " low " in modulation of the voice, with " loud " and " soft " as regards the variation of the voice in power. The distinction between the two must be always borne in mind. Those who are acquainted in the slightest degree with the rudiments of music, will know perfectly well that the terms high and loud and iow and soft are by no means necessarily connected together ; that we may sing a very high note in the very softest manner {piatiissi/no), and sing a very low note with the fullest power of the voice {fortissimo) ; just (to use Walker's illustration) as a smart stroke on a bell produces exactly the same note as a slight one, though it is considerably louder. Indeed, to make this matter quite clear to those who are wholly unacquainted with music, I cannot do better than resort again to another illustration given by Walker, who says, that when we speak of a high key, we mean that which we instinctively and naturally take when we wish to be heard at a distance, as the same degree of force is more audible in a high than in a low tone, from the acuteness of the former and the gravity of the latter ; and that a low tone is that we naturally assume when we are speaking I90 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. to a person at a small distance, and wish not to be heard by others ; as a low tone with the same force is less audible than a high one ; if, there- fore, we raise our voice to the pitch we should naturally use if we were calling to a person at a great distance, and at the same time exert so small a degree of force as to be heard only by a person who is near us, we shall have an example of a high note in a soft tone ; and, on the con- trary, if we suppose ourselves speaking to a person at a small distance, and wish to be heard by those who are at a greater, in this situation we shall naturally sink the voice into a low note, and throw just as much force or loudness into it as is necessary to make it audible to the persons at a distance. This is exactly the manner in which actors speak the speeches that are spoken aside. The low tone conveys the idea of speaking to a person near us, and the loud tone enables us to convey this idea to a distance. By this experiment we perceive that high and loud, and soft and low, though most frequently associated, are essen- tially distinct from each other. Thomas Sheridan (the father of the great orator and statesman, the Right Hon. Richard Brinsley Sheridan, who doubtless owed much of his fame and eminence to the thorough training in Elocution which he received in early life) very truly observes, that if a speaker does not know how to pitch his voice properly, he can never have the due management of it, and his utterance will be painful to himself and irksome to others ; and further, that it may be fairly said that every speaker, who is not corrupted by bad habit, has at least three pitches in his voice, the high, the low, and the middle pitch. The middle pitch is that which is used in ordinary discourse, from which he either rises or falls according as the matter of his discourse, or the emotions of his mind, require. This middle pitch, therefore, is what ought to be generally used, for two reasons — first, because the organs of the voice are stronger, and more pliable in this pitch, from being most frequently used ; and, secondly, because it is more easy to rise from that pitch to high, or descend to low, with regular proportion. Most persons, through want of skill and practice, when they read or speak in public, fall into one or other of the extremes. Either through timidity or diffidence they use the low pitch, in which they are scarcely, or not at all, heard by those who are remotely placed, and even if heard, it is with so much trouble to the listeners as soon to weary attention ; or if speakers aim at avoiding this fault, they run into the high pitch, which is productive of consequences equally bad. The organs of the voice in this unusual pitch are soon wearied, and languor and hoarseness ensue ; and as the reason for continuing it will be equally strong during the whole discourse as for the first setting out in it, the speaker must lose all the benefits which arise from variety of pitch, and (to use Sheridan's own words) " fall into a disgusting monotony." The prevalence of this practice arises from a common mistake in those who speak for the first time in a large room and before a numerous auditory. They conclude it to be impossible they should be heard in their ordinary pitch of voice, and therefore change it to a higher. Thus they confound two very distinct things, making high and low the same Lect. XII.] ON ELOCUTION. 191 with loud and soft. Loud and soft in speaking is equivalent to "C^t forte and piano in music ; it only refers to the different degrees of volume and power of voice used in the same key, whereas high and low imply a change of key. A man may speak louder or softer in the same key ; when he speaks higher or lower he changes his key. So that the business of every one is to proportion the volume or loudness of voice to the size of the room and the number of his auditory, but not necessarily to alter the pitch. It is evident that he who begins in this high pitch on a supposition that he could not otherwise be heard, must for the very same reason continue in that pitch throughout ; and they who set out under this delusion are apt to continue in it all their lives, having but little chance of being informed of their error. So that whenever they have to deliver anything in public, they, of course, fall into that strained and unnatural key ; and (says Sheridan) this error is nowhere more observable than in the usual manner of reading divine service. May I ask if this remark is less applicable now than it was when Sheridan wrote, more than a hundred years ago ? The volume of sound necessary to fill even a large room is much smaller than is generally imagined ; and to the being well heard, and clearly understood, a good and distinct articulation contributes far more than mere power of voice. You may rest assured, that if a man with a naturally weak voice be only possessed of this qualification, he has infinite advantages over the loudest voice devoid of clearness of articulation. He who delivers himself in a moderate pitch, whenever the logical meaning of his subject, or its emotional expression, demands that his voice should rise to a higher or sink to a lower key, does it with ease and due proportion, and produces the effects which are to be expected from such properly regulated change and agreeable variety ; whilst he who takes a high pitch cannot rise upon occasions without running into a discordant strain, nor sink with any rule ot proportion to guide him. Those persons who, to avoid this, run into the opposite extremes, and begin in too low a pitch, err indeed on the safer side, but are equally distant from the point of truth. It is true it is more easy to rise gradually and proportionately than to descend ; but while they remain in that low key, it will appear equally unnatural and more languid than the other, and they will be very apt throughout their discourse to run chiefly into that key with which they first set out. I think Sheridan well sums up the subject when he says the true, safe, and sure rule is (unless upon some extraordinary occasions, such, for instance, as some special form of exordium), always to begin in the middle key of speech, and if that should not prove strong enough, it should be developed and strengthened by practice, on right principles, and by proper management of the breath, alike as regards the functions of inspiration and expiration, so as to avoid all straining ; for he who strains his voice will scarcely be able to articulate well. The office of articulation (justly remarks Sheridan) is of a very delicate nature, and requires that the organs which perform it should not be disturbed or suffer any violence, which must always be the case when the voice is 192 A'ING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. unnaturally forced. The golden rule for a speaker to observe, is never to produce a greater volume of voice than he can afford without pain to himself or any extraordinary effort. Whilst he does this, the other organs of speech will be at liberty to discharge their several otfices with ease, and he will always have his voice under proper control. But whenever he trangresses these bounds, he gives up the reins, and has no longer the management of his voice under his command ; and it will ever be the safest way, too, to keep well within his compass rather than at any time to go to its utmost limit, which is a dangerous experiment, and never justifiable but upon giving utterance to some unusually powerful emotion, upon some extraordinary occasion, demanding its expression. Sheridan closes his dissertation in regard to the modulation of the voice with two rules : one for giving strength and power to the voice in its ordinary pitch, the other for adjusting the proper loudness or volume of voice proportioned to the size of the room and the number of the auditory. His first rule, for giving volume and power to the voice, is this : any one, who, through habit, has fallen into a weak utterance, cannot hope suddenly to change it ; he must do it by degrees and by constant practice. Let him therefore exercise himself daily in reading, reciting, or speaking in the hearing of a friend, and this, too, in a large room. At first his friend should be placed at such a distance only as the speaker can easily reach and be audible and distinct in his usual manner of speaking. Afterwards his friend should gradually increase the distance, and the speaker will in the same manner increase the volume of his voice ; for the method of increasing by degrees is easy in this, as in everything else, when sudden transitions are impracticable, and every new acquisition of power enables one the better to go on to the next degree. Sheridan's second rule for acquiring a proper degree of volume and power of voice, proportioned to the size of the room and the number of the audience, is this : let the speaker, after having looked round the assembly, fix his eyes on that part of his auditory which is farthest from him, and he will almost mechanically increase the volume of his voice so that it may reach them. This is what we constantly practice in common discourse, for we always proportion the loudness or softness of voice according to the distance we are from the person to whom we are speaking. But still the speaker must take care not to go beyond the proper pitch of his voice in order to do this, but only to add increased degrees of volume or loudness in proportion to the distance. He therefore who sets out in a higher key than is natural or proper to the occasion, the sentiment, or the emotion contained in the language he is uttering, in order that he may be heard by the most distant, may be justly said not to speak his speech, but to bawl it.* Such, however, is the nature of the human voice, that to begin in the extremes of high and low are not equally dangerous. The voice naturally slides into a higher tone when we want to speak louder, but not so easily into a lower tone when we would speak more softly. * See Lecture V. in Sheridan's " Lectures on Elocution," 4th Edition, 1762. Lect. XII.] ON ELOCUTION. 193 Experience shows us that we can raise our voice at jjleasure to any pitch it is capable of ; but the same experience tells us that it requires infinite art and practice to bring the voice to a lower key when it is once raised too high. It ought, therefore, to be a 'first principle with all public readers and speakers, rather to begin under the common level of their voice than above it. The attention of an auditory at the commence- ment of a lecture or oration makes the softest accents of the speaker audible, at the same time that it affords a happy occasion for intro- ducing a variety of voice, without which every address must soon tire. A repetition of the same subject a thousand times over is not more tire- some to the understanding than a monotonous delivery of the most varied subject to the ear. Poets, to produce variety, alter the structure of their verse, and rather hazard uncouthness and discord than sameness. Prose writers change the style, turn, and structure of their periods, and sometimes throw in exclamations, and sometimes interrogations, to rouse and keep alive the attention ; but all this art is entirely thrown away, if the reader does not enter into the spirit of his author, and by a similar kind of genius render even variety itself more various ; if he does not, by an alteration in his voice, manner, tone, gesture, loudness, softness, quickness, slowness, adopt every change of which the subject is susceptible. Every one, therefore, who would acquire variety of tone in public reading or speaking, must avoid as the greatest evil a loud and vociferous beginning ; and for that purpose it would be prudent in a reader or speaker to adapt his voice as if only to be heard by the person who is nearest to him ; if his voice has natural strength, and the subject anything impassioned in it, a higher and louder tone will insensibly steal on him ; and his greatest address must be directed to keeping it within bounds. For this purpose it will be frequently necessary for him to recall his voice, as it were, from the extremities of his auditory, and direct it to those who are nearest to him. This it will be proper to do almost at the beginning of every paragraph in reading, and at the introduction of every part of the subject in discourse. Nothing will so powerfully work on the voice, as supposing ourselves conversing at different intervals with different parts of the audience. Speaking broadly and generally, a change in the pitch of the inflec- tions takes place, or, in other words, there is a transition of key in the modulation of the speaking voice always required for the purpose of marking the distinction between appeal or interrogations from their responses, and general statements from inferences or corollaries. A change in th$ key, too, always marks the introduction of passages which are quotations ; and it is specially required to indicate the commence- ment of a new subject or a new division of a subject, or any change in the character of the speakers in a dialogue. A different key (a lower one generally) is necessary whenever similes, metaphors, or other figures of speech are introduced. Every change of passion, emotion, or sentiment is always shown by a change to the appropriate key ; and when we really feel such passion, emotion, or sentiment. Nature has her own special keys for each, which she will not fail to make us employ 194 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XI I. rightly. Passages, too, that are parenthetic, explanatory, or subordi- nate, should never be read in the same keys as those which are primary or important. Mr. Melville Bell, of • Edinburgh, speaking of what he terms " Harmony of Modulation," observes (I think, very sensibly) that " a harmcmy of modulation must prevail in the reading of parts that are syntactically co/mected, especially when they are separated in composition by intervening clauses or sentences. The subjective and predicative clauses should always stand out in correspotident modulation from the circumstantial passages by which they are frequently separated and broken up. These interpolating clauses will generally be pronounced in a lower key of modulation than the principal clauses of a sentence ; but they may require a higher key : whatever their relative modulation, it must always be distinctive from that of the subject and predicate." The authors who have written on this subject during the last hundred years have, in general, taken five keys as representing the range of the speaking voice in its modulation, which they have represented as rising from the lowest key to the highest, in the following manner : — 5 Highest key. 4 Higher key. 3 Middle key. 2 Lower key. I Lowest key. The middle key (marked 3) is the one that is most frequently employed. It is the key of our ordinary conversation, when no par- ticular emotion or feeling governs our minds ; and the other keys are not absolutely fixed, but considered only as relative to this middle key. When we become animated, earnest, or energetic in our speaking or reading, the voice usually ascends to a higher key, and in all the strongest manifestations of what we may term the exciting passions and emotions, such as courage, defiance, triumph, joy, &c. (as opposed to the depressing, such as sorrow, awe, dread, &c., which express them- selves in the lower keys), the voice ascends in general to the highest keys. The lower key is usually employed to vary the uniformity of the middle key, and is the one in which parenthetic, subordinate, and explanatory passages are usually read or spoken. The lowest key of all is chiefly employed in passages characterised by extreme solemnity or awe. In a very useful little work by the Rev. J. P. Sandlands, entitled " The Voice and Public Speaking," * which contains some excellent hints on the management of the vocal and speech organs, he advises that for the purpose of training the ear, as well as the voice, to pass readily from what he terms one "key-tone" to another, it may often be desirable for the student to have recourse to the aid afforded by a piano. Mr. Sandlands says : — "The power of acquiring the key-tone and that of modulation, passing from one key-tone to another, enter very largely * Hodder & Stoughton, Paternoster Row. Price 3s. Lect. XII.] ON ELOCUTION. 195 into the cultivation of the speaking voice. There are ihree principal key-tones. These are the high, low, and middle key-tones. Between these tones, as well as above and below them, there is a great variety. The speaker should be able to fall on any tone the moment he has it in his mind, and he should also be able to pass easily from any one to any other. Now it is a matter of experience that the voice, when not under control, will readily pass from a low note to a high one. The contrary can only be accomplished by a cultivated voice. It is a very common occurrence for a speaker to rise higher and higher as he proceeds, especially if he warms to his subject, till he finds himself exhausted with the effort of speaking. He does not know what is wrong. He stops, takes a little water, begins again, and finds himself in the same predicament. It is unpleasant and very fatiguing. The truth is, his voice is not under control. It runs away with him. It is just as if he were riding an unbroken steed that will not brook bit and curb. What is to be done is obvious. He must break it in. " And now for the process. It is somewhat difficult to describe, but we shall, perhaps, be able to accomplish something. It may here be remarked that the exercises help each other. They accomplish their specific purpose and something more, so that if the exercises have been faithfully and diligently practised, the work now will not be beyond our power. " If we can take a single word and pronounce it to any key-tone, and with any degree of softness or loudness, we can do the same with a sentence ; and if with a sentence, with a series also. Our object, then, is simplified. We will practise on one word. " In order to acquire the power of choosing our key-tone and changing it at pleasure, we must give our ear a little training, as well as our voice. A good exercise is this : — Sit down to the piano. Strike any note within the compass of your voice. Take the hand off the piano and let the sound die out. Then sing the note from memory. Strike another note at any interval, so long as it is within the compass of your voice, and sing it in the same manner. Continue the exercise on different notes. Test yourself by striking the note while singing, whether you are right. This exercise might be varied, and withal rendered useful for other purposes by holding out the note as long as possible. The object is twofold— to train the ear to appreciate the difference between high and low notes, and also to acquire the facility of passing from one key-tone to another. We must not forget to take in the breath very deeply, and the mouth should be well open for the open vowels that are sung. The exercise should be varied by singing one syllable and now another. "The syllable kah is a good one, as its tendency is to open the mouth. Ska again, is a useful syllable, as by forcibly articulating the s and k the ' clear shock of the glottis ' is produced. This exercise is nothing unless it is gymnastic. It must be energetic. Gentle exercise, whatever some may say, is, for our purpose, "of no use whatever. ... I do not know a more useful exercise than this, and I earnestly advise the student to practise it well. 196 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. " When this exercise has been faithfully practised and considerable progress made, the student may proceed with this one : — Take a list of words with a full vowel sound, as, now, thou, plough ; fall, tall, small ; tone, moan, cone ; toil, spoil, coil ; far, tar, car ; park, dark, shark; boy, toy, coy ; fatne, name, shame, &c., &c., and repeat them very slowly in succession. Do this as loudly as possible on the lowest key-tone of your voice. Elongate the vowel sounds as much as you can. Pay special attention to the consonants, and hit them, so to speak, very smartly on the head. Don't be afraid. Exaggerate the powers of the final consonants. Let each word stand out and apart from the other. " After practising on the lowest key-tone, take it on the highest, and then on the middle. It will not be advisable to do more than these three for some time ; but when the ear has befcome quite accustomed to them, and the voice can take them up readily, the intermediate key- tones, and the very highest and the very lowest, may be practised. " ^^'ork this up well and effectively ; then take a single word — any word will do^and put it through the key-tones. Modulation, which is certainly one of the sweetest charms of oratory, as it is of music, will, after this, become natural and comparatively easy. This is the chief end to be gained by the exercises we have been describing. It cannot, of course, be attained all at once. It comes as the result of practice. It seems to me the greatest absurdity to talk of, and advise, the speaking and reading of certain and certain pieces, in such and such key-tones, until the voice can do it. Fit the voice, by training, for its work, and it will naturally seek the work to do. j\Ir. Spurgeon, I think, it is who compares a monotonous speaker to a drummer beating constantly on the same part of his drum. He says, that just as the drummer soon wears a hole though the drum-head, so the speaker very soon wearies his throat with speaking. The comparison is so far just ; but only so far. It would be possible for a speaker, with a trained voice, to speak for any length of time, if he chose, on the same key-tone and feel no injury. He would not do it, however ; for his voice would naturally seek variation in the power of modulation which it had acquired. But the comparison is true in another sense. The monotonous speaker very soon beats a hole, if we may so say, through the drum of the ears of his audience. This is a more serious matter. A dull, heavy, unvaried tone of voice tells very soon and very unmistakably on an audience. It tires, wearies, and disgusts an audience beyond measure. The remedy is here. It is in the power of modulation. It is worth the while then, as it .is within the reach of us, to set to in good earnest and acquire it. " There is, however, another feature. Speakers often experience in their discourses, as well written as extempore, that certain and certain passages should be spoken in a different key-tone from certain and certain others. They feel, at least, something like this. Now the fact of having acquired the power of speaking in any key-tone at will, and passing from one to another, will suggest the propriety of determining the key-tone in which every passage, or part of a passage, should be spoken. Hence it follows that no speaker or reader should ever think Lect. xil] on elocution. 197 of beginning to speak or read without determining his key-tone. The character of that to which he is to give expression will determine this for him. Speaking generally, solemn subjects will suggest low key-tones, and less serious subjects higher key-tones. But here there is large room for the exercise of discretion. The speaker will not, if he is wise, as a rule, speak in public without having first well digested his matter and determined its character. It is impossible to convey clearly to others that which is hazy to ourselves. Clear ideas alone can be intelligibly imparted. The reader is in a different position. I do not say better. It is quite within his power to digest his matter and determine his key-tones beforehand. This he should always make a point of doing. It does not matter how simple the character of the piece may be, this must never be omitted. I have little sympathy with those who think they can do anything off-hand. If reading and speaking are worth doing at all, they are worth doing well. To do things well takes time and involves the preparation of matter and manner. I do not, therefore, advise that these things should be done with the least trouble possible, but with the most that can be given to them. A reader therefore should, in my opinion, practise beforehand that which he is going to give in public. He should go over it a number of times with different tones, and be well satisfied that those upon which he has fixed are the best. This involves, as is readily seen, very much labour ; but unless we are disposed to bestow it, we should be careful to consider whether we should not act more wisely by ceasing to make an infliction upon our hearers. I hope I shall not be considered harsh when I make these remarks, but rather be credited with a desire of prompting ourselves to do our work in the best way possible." * Having now, I hope, said enough in regard to the theory of the modulation of the speaking voice anS* the principles by which it is governed to make the subject quite clear to you, I shall next give you a summary of them in a i^w general rules, followed by illustrations for practice. I shall endeavour to simplify this matter as much as possible by using at first the following signs to indicate the various keys in which the selected passages should be read, the inflections, of course, being governed by the principles contained in the rules given in my three preceding Lectures. M. will stand for the middle key; H. for the higher, and HH. for the highest keys ; while L. will signify the lower, and LL. the lowest keys. As I did in the case of the inflections, I will take those rules in modulation first in order which have reference to the expression of the logical meaning of a sentence. Rule I. — Clauses which are of a parenthetic nature, and important in their character, should be read or spoken in a lower key in modu- lation, and generally in slower time, than the other clauses of the sentence. * Sandlands on "The Voice and Public Speaking," pp. 1 19-129. I9» KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. Illustrations for Practice. 1. (M) If, where these rules not far enough extend (L) (Since rules were made but to promote their end), (M) Some lucky license answer to the full Th' intent proposed, that license is a rule. 2. (M) If there's a Power above us (L) (And that there is, all nature cries aloud Through all her works), (M) he must delight in virtue; (H) And that which he delights in must be happy. 3. (M) For one end, one much-neglected use, Are riches worth our care (L) (for nature's wants Are few, and without opulence supplied); (M) This noble end is to produce the soul ; To show the virtues in the fairest light ; (H) And make liumanity the minister Of bounteous Providence. 4. (M) On a rock whose haughty brow Frowns o'er old Conway's foamy flood ; Rob'd in the sable garb of woe. With haggard eyes the poet stood (L) (Loose his beard, and hoary hair Stream'd like a meteor to the troubled air) ; (M) And with a master's hand, and prophet's fire, Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre. 5. (M) To Pandemonium t^e summons call'd By place or choice the worthiest : they anon With hundreds and with thousands trooping came Attended : all access was throng'd ; the gates And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall (L) (Though like a cover'd field where champions bold Wont ride in arm'd, and at the Soldan's chair Defied the best of Paynim chivalry To mortal combat or career with lance), (M) Thick swarm'd, both on the groifnd, and in the air Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings. 6. (M) The bliss of man (L) (could pride that blessing find) (M) Is, not to act or think beyond mankind. /• (M) Woe then apart, (L) ( if woe apart can be From mortal man,) (M) and fortune at our nod, The gay, rich, great, triumphant, and august, What are they? The most happy, (L) (strange to say,] (M) Convince me most of human misery. Lect. XII.] OJV ELOCUTION. 199 8. (AI) And now, As though 'twere yesterday, as though it were The hour just flown, that morn with all its sounds (L) (For those old Mays had thrice the life of these^ (M) Rings in mine ears. 9. (H) Lo ! they come, The loathsome waters in their rage ! And with their roar make wholesome nature dumb ! The forest's trees (L) (coeval with the hour When Paradise upsprung, Ere Eve gave Adam knowledge for her dower, Or Adam his first hymn of slavery sung), (H) So massy, vast, yet green in their old age. Are overtcpped, Their sun-mer blossoms by the surges lopped, Which rise, and rise, and rise. Vainly we look up to the lowering skies (L) (Alas ! they meet the seas !) (H) They shut out God from our beseeching eyes. I o. (M) Signors, >'Our pardon ; this is mockery. Juggle n> more with that poor remnant which, A momait since, while yet it had a soul (L) (A soul ty whom you have increased your empire And made your power as great as was his glory), (M) You baiishd from his palace, and tore down From hs high place with such relentless coldness ; And new (L) (when he can neither know these honours, Nor would accept them if he could), you, Signors, (M) Purpos, with idle and superfluous pomps. To m;ke a pageant over what you trampled. 1 1. (M) Thoufh religion removes not all the evils of life ; though it promises no coninuance of undisturbed prosperity (L) (which indeed it were not salutay for man always to enjoy), (M) yet if it mitigates the evils which necesarily belong to our state, it may justly be said to give rest to them wh< labour and are heavy laden. 12. (M) It 'ften happens that those are the best people whose characters are nost injured by slanderers (L) (and who so great or good that slander dires not assail ?), (M) as we usually find that to be the sweetest fruit A'hich the birds have been pecking at. Note. — Bit if the parenthetic clause be of a comparatively unim- portant c'lar.icter, it may be given in a higher key and somewhat quicker time. (M) Pride, (H) in some particular disguise or other, (M) is the most ordinay spring of human action." 200 AVA'G'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. Rule II. — Antithetic portions of sentences should ahvays be marked by the voice being modulated into an appropriate change of key, as well as opposite inflections. Illustrations for Practice. J. " (M) Hereafter, in that world where all are pure, We two may meet before high God, and thou Wilt spring to me and claim me thine, and know I am thine husband, (L) not a smaller soul, Nor Lancelot, nor another." 2. O Happiness ! our being's end and aim ; Good, pleasure, ease, content, whate'er thy name : That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh, For which we bear to live, or dare to die ; Which still so near us, yet beyond U3 lies, O'erlook'd, seen double, by the fool and wise. Plant of celestial seed ! if dropt belov. Say, in what mortal soil thou deign'sl to grow? Fair op'ning to some court's propitious shine, Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine ? Twin'd with the wreaths Parnassian laarels yield. Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field t 3. Where grows ? — where grows it not ? If vain our toil, We ought to blame the culture, not th« soil ; Fix'd to no spot is happiness sincere, 'Tis nowhere to be found, or ev'rywhen \ 'Tis never to be bought, but always free, And fled from monarchs, St. John ! dwells with thee. 4. Ask of the learned the way : the learn'd^re blind ; This bids to serve, and that to shun mai^ind : Some place the bliss in action, some in (^se, Those call it Pleasure, and Contentmentlhcse : Some, sunk to beasts, find pleasure end ii pain : Some, swell'd to gods, confess e'en Virtue vain : Or indolent, to each extreme they fall. To trust in everything, or doubt of all. 5. But mutual wants this Happiness increase ;\ All Nature's diffrence keeps all Nature's pei Condition, circumstance, is not the thing ; Bliss is the same in subject or in king ; \ In who obtain defence, or who defend, \ In him who is, or him who finds a friend, Heav'n breathes through every member of the A'h^le One common blessing as one common soul. 6. But Fortune's gifts if each alike possest. And each were equal, must not all contest ? Lect. XII.] OiY ELOCUTIOaV. If then to all men Happiness was meant, God in externals could not place content. Fortune her gifts may variously dispose, And these be happy call'd, unhappy those : But Heav'n's just balance equal will appear, While those are plac'd in hope and these in fear : Not present good or ill the joy or curse, But future views of better, or of worse. O sons of earth ! attempt ye still to rise, By mountains pil'd on mountains, to the skies? Heav'n still with laughter the vain toil surveys. And buries madmen in the heaps they raise. 7. Discomfortable cousin, know'st thou not That when the searching eye of Heaven is hid Behind the globe that lights the lower world. Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen. In murders and in outrage bloody here ? But when from under this terrestrial ball He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines. And darts his light through ev'ry guilty hole. Then murders, treasons, and detested sins. The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs, Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves. S. Not all the water in the rough, rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed king ; The breath of worldly men cannot depose The deputy elected by the Lord. For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd To lift sharp steel against our golden crown, God for His Richard hath in heavenly pay A glorious angel : then if angels fight, Weak men must fall ; for Heaven still guards the right. 9. Whatever crazy sorrow saith. No life that breathes with human breath Hath ever truly long'd for death. 'Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant, Oh ! life, not death, for which we pant. More life and fuller that we want. 10. But through the palm and plantain, hark, a voice! Not such as would have been a lover's choice, In such an hour to break the air so still ; No dying night-breeze harping o'er the hill, Striking the strings of nature, rock and tree. Those best and earliest lyres of harmony, With echo for their chorus ; but the alarm Of the loud war-whoop to dispel the charm. 202 A'/.VG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIT. 11. The proposition is peace. Not peace through the medium of war ; not peace to be hunted through the labyrinth of intricate and endless negotiations ; not peace to arise out of universal discord, fomented from principle in all parts of the empire ; not peace to depend on the juridical determination of perplexing questions, or the precise marking of the shadowy boundaries of a complex government : it is simple peace ; sought in its natural course, and in its ordinary haunts. It is peace ; sought in the spirit of peace, and laid in principles purely pacific. I pro- pose—by removing the ground of the difference, and by restoring the former unsuspecting confidence of the colonies in the mother country — to give permanent satisfaction to your people ; and (far from a scheme of ruling by discord) to reconcile them to each other, in the same act, and by the bond of the very same interest, which reconciles them to British government. 1 2, Man was made after the image of God ; and the human form divine, the seat of so many heavenly faculties, graces, and virtues, exhibits a temple not unworthy of its Maker. Men, in their collective capacity, and united as nations, have displayed a wide field of exertion and of glory. The globe hath been covered with monuments of their power, and the voice of history transmits their renown from one genera- tion to another. But when we pass from the living world to the dead, what a sad picture do we behold ! — the fall and desolation of human nature, the ruins of man, the dust and ashes of many generations scattered over the earth ! The high and the low, the mighty and the mean, the king and the cottager, lie blended together, without any order ! A few feet of earth contain the ashes of him who conquered the globe ; the shadows of the long night stretch over all alike : the monarch of dis- order, the great leveller of mankind, lays all on the bed of clay in equal meanness ! In the course of time the land of desolation becomes still more desolate ; the things that were, become as if they had never been. Babylon is a ruin, her heroes are dust ; not a trace remains of the glory that shone over the earth, and not a stone to tell where the master of the world is laid ! Rule III. — When in the course of a passage interrogation occurs, followed by its answer, the clause in which such answer is contained, if strictly subordinate to the question, is generally given in a lower key of modulation. Illustrations for Practice. 1. (M) What must the King do now? Must he submit? (L) The King shall do it : (M) must he be deposed ? (L) The King shall be contented : (M) must he lose The name of King ? (L) why let it go. 2. Say is my Kingdom lost ? Why 'twas my care, And what loss is it to be rid of care? Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we ? Greater he shall not be ; if he serve God, Lect. XII.] ON ELOCUTION. 203 We'll serve him too and be his fellow so. Revolt our subjects ? That we cannot mend ; They break their faith to God, as well as us. 3. Oh, how hast thou with jealousy infected The sweetness of affiance ! Show men dutiful ? Why so didst thou : or seem they grave and learned ? Why so didst thou : come they of noble family ? Why so didst thou : seem they religious ? Why so didst thou : or ate they spare in diet, Free from gross passion, or of mirth, or anger ; Constant in spirit, nor swerving with the blood, Garnish'd and deck'd in modest compliment. Not working with the ear, but with the eye, And but in purged judgment trusting neither? Such and so finely boulted didst thou seem. 4. What ! shall one of us That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers ; shall we now, Contaminate our fingers with base bribes. And sell the mighty space of our large honours. For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. 5. Must I budge? Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch . Under your testy humour ? By the gods ! You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you ; for, from this day forth, FU use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, ^Vhen you are waspish. 6. Heavens ! And think'st thou, Coriolanus, Will stoop to thee for safety ? No, my safeguard Is in myself, a bosom void of fear. It is an act of cowardice and baseness To seize the very time my hands are fettered By the strong chain of former obligation. The safe, sure moment to insult me. 7. What would I more, proud Roman ? This, I would : Fire the curs'd forest, where these Roman wolves Haunt and infest their nobler neighbours round them, Extirpate from the bosom of this land A false, perfidious people, who, beneath The mask of freedom, are a combination Against the liberty of human kind — The genuine seed of outlaws and of robbers. 204 A^JNG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. 8. Life ? Ask my life ? Confess, record myself A villain, for the privilege to breathe ? And carry up and down this hated city A discontented and repining spirit. Burdensome to itself a few years longer, To lose at last, it may be, in a base quarrel. For some new friend, treacherous and false as thou art ? No ; this vile world and I have long been jangling, And cannot part on better terms than now, When only men like thee are fit to live in't. 9. Hear me ! oh, hear me ! am I not Thy worshipper, thy priest, thy servant ? Yea all these I am. Have I not gazed On thee both at thy rise and fall, And bow'd my head beneath thy midday beams, When my eye dared not meet thee ? Have I not watch'd for thee, and after thee. And pray'd to thee, and fear'd thee ? Thou knowest I have. Have I not asked of thee, And thou hast answered ? But Only to thus much. While I speak he sinks — And leaves his beauty, not his knowledge, To the delighted West, which revels in Its hues of dying glory. Yet what is Death, so it be but glorious ? 'Tis a sunset ; And mortals may be happy to resemble The gods but in decay. 10. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death. And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave? My brother kill'd no man, his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was bitter death. Who sued to me for him ? Who, in my wrath, Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised ? Who spoke of brotherhood ? Who spoke of love ? Who told me how the poor soul did forsake The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? ^Vho told me, in the field at Tewkesbury, When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, And said, " Dear brother, live and be a king"? Who told me when we both lay in the field. Frozen almost to death, how he did wrap me Even in his garments, and did give himself All thin and naked to the numb, cold night? Not one. — Not one would beg his life. All this from my remembrance brutish wrath Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my mind. Lect. XII.l ON ELOCUTION. 205 1 1. Are the oppressors and the oppressed so reconciled to each other that no trace of enmity remains? Or, is it in reason, or in common sense, to claim a prescriptive right, — not to the fruits of an ancient and forgotten crime, committed long ago, and traceable in all its conse- quences — but to a series of new violences — of fresh enormities, to cruelties — continued — repeated ; and of which every individual instance inflicted a fresh calamity, and constituted a fresh, a separate, and substantive crime ? Certainly not ; — and I cannot conceive that, in refusing to sanction the continuance of such a system, the House will feel itself, in the smallest degree, impairing the respect due to the establishments of antiquity, or shaking the foundations of the British Constitution. 12. They tell us, sir, that we are weak— " unable to cope with so formidable an adversary ! " But when shall we be stronger ? Will it be the next week, or the next year ? Will it be when we are totally dis- armed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house ? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction ? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies have bound us hand and foot .'' Sir, we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just Power who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the active, 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. Note. — To this rule there is, however, an exception, for if the answer contains some new matter of special importance to the general meaning of the sentence, then such answer should be read in a higher key and stronger tone. (L) Must we but weep o'er days more blest? (M) Must we but blush? (H) Our fathers bled ! (H) Are they Hebrews? (L) So am I. (H) Are they Israelites? (L) So am I. (H) Are they the seed of Abraham? (L) So am I. (H) Are they ministers of Christ? (HH) I am more. (H) Art thou poor? (HH) Show thyself active and industrious, peace- able and contented. (H) Art thou wealthy ? (HH) Show thyself bene- ficent and charitable, condescending and humane. Rule IV, — The last general rule that I should give respecting changes of key in regard to the full elucidation of the logical meaning of a sentence is this, that the most important sentences, or clauses in a sentence, are those which are given in the higher keys as well as the louder tones of the voice. 2o6 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. Illustrations for Practice. I. (M) Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we marched on without impediment. (H) Richard, the bloody and devouring boar, Whose ravenous appetite has spoiled your fields, Laid this rich country waste, and rudely cropped Its ripened hopes of fair posterity, (HH) Is now even in the centre of the isle. Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just ; (L) And he but naked, though locked up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted ; (LL) The very weight of Richard's guilt shall crush him — (H) Then, let us on, my friends, and boldly face him ! (M) In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As mild behaviour and humanity ; (H) But when the blast of war blows in our ears, (HH) Let us be tigers in our fierce deportment I (L) For me, the ransom of my bold attempt Shall be— this body on the earth's cold face ; (H) But, if we thrive, the glory of the action The meanest soldier here shall share his part of. (HH) Advance your standards, draw your willing swords, Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully ; The words — " St. George, Richmond, and Victory 1 " 2. Son ! Methinks this high assembly might well Have claimed thy presence. A great ruler's heir Should be familiar in the people's eyes ; Live on their tongues ; take root within their hearts ; Win woman's smiles by honest courtesy. And force man's tardier praise by bold desert ; So, when the chief shall die, the general love May hail his successor, 3. Add, that my boasted Schoolcraft Was gained from such base toil ; — gained with such pain That the nice nurture of the mind was oft Stolen at the body's cost. I have gone dinnerless And supperless (the scoff of our poor street, For tattered vestments and lean hungry looks), To pay the pedagogue. Add what thou wilt Of injury. Say that, grown into man, I've known the pittance of the hospital, And, more degrading still, the patronage Of the Colonna. Of the tallest trees The roots delve deepest. Yes, I've trod thy halls. Scorned and derided 'midst their ribald crew — A licensed jester, save the cap and bells : Lect. XII.] ON ELOCUTION. 207 I have borne this — and I have borne the death, The unavenged death, of a poor brother. I seemed to be a base ignoble slave. What am I ? — peace, I say ! — what am I now ? Head of this great republic, chief of Rome — In all but name, her sovereign ; last of all, Thy father. 4. But this I will avow, that I have scorned, And still do scorn, to hide my sense of wrong : Who brands me on the forehead, breaks my sword, Or lays the bloody scourge upon my back, Can't wrong me half so much as he who shuts The gates of honour on me — turning out The Roman from his birthright ; and for what ? To fling your offices to every slave — Vipers that creep where man disdains to climb ; And having wound their loathsome track to the top Of this huge mouldering monument of Rome, Hang hissing at the noble man below. 5. This is his answer ! Must I bring more proofs? Fathers, you know there lives not one of us But is in peril of his midnight sword. Lists of proscription have been handed round. In which your general properties are made Your murderer's hire. Bring in the prisoners, 6. Fathers of Rome ! If man can be convinced By proof as clear as daylight, there it stands ! Those men have been arrested at the gates. Bearing despatches to raise war in Gaul. Look on these letters ! Here's a deep-laid plot To wreck the province ; a solemn league. Made with all form and circumstance. The time Is desperate, all the slaves are up; — Rome shakes ! Xhe heavens alone can tell how near our graves We stand even here ! — The name of Catiline Is foremost in the league. He was their king. — Tried and convicted traitor, go from Rome ! 7. Heavens ! with what pride I used To w'alk these hills, and look up to my God, And think the land was free. Yes, it was free — From end to end, from cliff to lake 'twas free — Free as our torrents are that leap our rocks. And plough our valleys without asking leave ; Or as our peaks that wear their caps of snow In very presence of the regal sun. How happy was I then ! I loved 208 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. Its very storms. Yes, I have often sat In my boat at night, when midway o'er the lake — The stars went out, and down the mountain-gorge The wind came roaring. I have sat and eyed The thunder breaking from his cloud, and smiled To see him shake his lightnings o'er my head, And think I had no master save his own. — On the wild jutting cliff, o'ertaken oft By the mountain blast, I've laid me flat along ; And while gust followed gust more furiously, As if to sweep me o'er the horrid brink. Then I have thought of other lands, whose storms Are summer flaws to those of mine, and just Have wished me there ; — the thought that mine was free Has checked that wish, and I have raised my head. And cried in thraldom to that furious wind, " Blow on ! This is the land of liberty ! " 8. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more : Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility : 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 ; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; Let it pry through the portage of the head, Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it, As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swilled with the wild and wasteful oceaa — Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide. Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To its full height ! Now on ! you noblest English, Whose blood is fetched from fathers of war-prOof; Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders, Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought. And sheathed their swords for lack of argument ! I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips. Straining upon the start. The game's a-foot ; Follow your spirit ; and upon this charge, Cry, Heaven for Harry, England, and St. George ! 9. Worst in this royal presence may I speak, Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth. I would that any in this noble presence Were enough noble to be upright judge Of noble Richard ; then true nobleness would Lect. XII.] ON ELOCUTION. 209 Teach him forbearance from so foul a wrong. What subject can give sentence on a king ? And who sits here, that is not Richard's subject ? Thieves are not judged, but they are by to hear, Although apparent guilt be seen in them : And shall the figure of Heaven's Majesty, His captain, steward, deputy elect, Anointed, crowned, planted many years, Be judged by subject and inferior breath. And he himself not present ? Oh, forbid it, Heaven, That, in a Christian climate, souls refined Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed ! I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Stirred up by truth, thus boldly for his king. My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king. Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king : And if you crown him, let me prophesy — The blood of English shall manure the ground, And future ages groan for this foul act ; Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels, And, in this seat of peace, tumultuous wars Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound ; Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny Shall here inhabit, and this land be called The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls. Oh ! if you rear this house against this house, It will the wofuUest division prove That ever fell upon this cursed earth ! Prevent, resist it, let it not be so, Lest children's children cry against you — woe ! 10. Honour, thou bloodstained god ! at whose red altar Sit war and homicide : oh ! to what madness Will insult drive thy votaries ! In truth, In the world's range, there does not breathe a man Whose brutal nature I more strove to soothe With long forbearance, kindness, courtesy. Than his who fell by me. But he disgraced me, Stained me — oh, death and shame ! — the world looked on And saw this sinewy savage strike me down. Rain blows upon me, drag me to and fro, On the base earth, like carrion. Desperation, In every fibre of my frame, cried Vengeance ! I left the room which he had quitted. Chance, (Curse on the chance !) while boiling with my. wrongs, Thrust me against him, darkling, in the street I stabbed him to the heart and my oppressor Rolled lifeless at my foot. Would you think it ? o 210 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XII. E'en at the moment when I gave the blow, Butchered a fellow-creature in the dark, I had all good men's love. But my disgrace. And my opponent's death thus linked with it, Demanded notice of the magistracy. They summoned me, as friend would summon friend, To acts of import and communication. We met — and 'twas resolved, to stifle rumour, To put me on my trial. No accuser, No evidence appeared, to urge it on 'Twas meant to clear my fame. How clear it then? How cover it ? — you say. — Why, by a lie — Guilt's offspring, and its guard. I taught this breast. Which truth once made her throne, to forge a lie, This tongue to utter it ; — rounded a tale, Smooth as a seraph's song from Satan's mouth ; So well compacted, that the o'erthronged court Disturbed cool Justice in her judgment-seat, By shouting "Innocence !" ere I had finished. The court enlarged me ; and the giddy rabble Bore me, in triumph, home. Ay! — look upon me. — I know thy sight aches at me. 11. I speak in the spirit of the British law, which makes liberty com- mensurate with, and inseparable from, British soil ; — which proclaims even to the stranger and sojourner, the moment he sets his foot upon British earth, that the ground on which he treads is holy, and conse- crated by the genius of Universal Emancipation. No matter in what language his doom may have been pronounced; — no matter what complexion, incompatible with freedom, an Indian or an African sun may have burnt upon him ; no matter in what disastrous battle his liberty may have been cloven down ; — no matter with what solemnities he may have been devoted upon the altar of slavery ; — the first moment he touches the sacred soil of Britain, the altar and the god sink together in the dust; his soul walks abroad in her own majesty ; his body swells beyond the measure of the chains that burst from around him ; and he stands — redeemed, regenerated, and disenthralled by the irresistible genius of "Universal Emancipation." 1 2. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission ? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it ? Has Great Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies ? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us : they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and to rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them ? Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of Lect. XII.] ON ELOCUTION. 211 which it is capable ; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication ? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and parliament. Our petitions have been slighted ; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult ; our supplications have been disregarded ; and we have been spurned with contempt from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free, if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges 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 never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight ; I repeat it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us ! I have already spoken of the different emotional uses of the keys of the human voice in the Lectures I have given you, when treating of the emotional uses of the inflections, and I shall refer to the subject again when I come to speak of the various passions and emotions of human nature as indicated by expression of countenance, gestures, and voice generally. And now, last of all, in this division of our subject, I have to bring before your notice that special modulation of the voice — often combined with considerable variation as regards tiine as well as power of voice, ranging in the one from very slow to very quick, and in the other from very soft to very loud — which has received the name of IMITATIVE MODULATION. ^^^ M ^Tl f P ^^ l^^iJ^^K ^ ^ difi^ ^^Sp LECTURE XIII. Imitative Modulation — What is meant by it — Views of Lord Kames in reference to Imitative Modulation — Illustrations — Time in Reading and Speaking, and its Varieties — Slow, Medium, and Quick Time — General Suggestions — Illustrations for Practice. THINK we are indebted to Lord Kames, the eminent Scotch judge and critic, as being one of the earliest writers in our language who has entered into anything like a full and philosophical examination of this interesting subject. In that chapter in his " Elements of Criticism," which treats of " Beauty of Language," he justly remarks that a resemblance between the sound of certain words and their significaiiofi is a beauty that has escaped no critical writer, and yet has scarcely been handled with sufficient accuracy by any of them. They have probably been of opinion that a beauty so obvious to the mind required no explanation. This is an error, says Lord Kames, and to avoid it in his own work he enters into a very learned and elaborate disquisition on the subject, giving a great number of examples of the various resemblances between sound and signification, accompanied with an endeavour to explain why such resemblances are so beautiful. He begins with illustrations where the resemblance between the sound and the signification is the most complete, and then goes on to examples where the resemblance is less and less obvious. There being frequently, he says, a strong resemblance between one sound and another, it will not be surprising to find an articulate sound resembling one that is not articulate. Thus the sound of a bow- string when the arrow is discharged is well imitated by Pope, in the following italicised words : — " The string let fly, Twang d short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's cry." Again, in a well-known passage from his translation of Homer's Iliad, what admirable words has he selected to express the sound of felling trees in a wood : — " Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes, On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks Lect. XIII.] K2NG'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. 213 Headlong. Deep echoing groan the thickets brown, Then rustling, cracklifig, crashing, thunder down." Or again from the same poet : — " Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms, And here Chary bdis fills the deep with storms ; When the tide rushes from her rumbling caves. The rough rock roars ; tumultuous boil ihe waves." Now no person can be at a loss about the cause of this beauty of sound and sense combined in the foregoing passages ; it is obviously that of imitation. That there is any other resemblance of sound to sig- nification must not be taken for granted. There is no resemblance of sound to motion, nor of sound to feeling or sentiment. But we may be deceived, as it were, by the artful delivery of the accomplished reader or speaker. The same passage may be pronounced in many different keys, tones, and time ; the modulation may be high or low, the tone sweet or harsh, the time quick or slow, so as to be in accordance with the character of the thought or emotion. Such concord must be distinguished from that concord between sound and sense which is per- ceived in some words, independent almost of the skilled delivery of the elocutionist. The former is the poet's work ; the latter must be attributed to the art of the reader or speaker. There is another thing which contributes still more to this pleasing delusion to which the hearer so readily yields himself In all languages, Greek, Latin, and all its modern derivatives, in the Teutonic group, and especially Anglo-Saxon and modern English, and I doubt not also in all the Oriental tongues, the properties of sound and sense being ifitimately connected, the properties of the one are readily communicated to the other. For example, the attributes of grandeur, of sweetness, or of melancholy, though belonging to the thought only, are transferred to the words, which by that means resemble in appearance the thought which is expressed by them. That there may be a resemblance between articulate sounds and some that are not articulate is therefore manifest. That such resemblances do indeed exist, and are successfully employed by writers of genius, is clear from the preceding examples, and from many others which might be given. But we may safely pronounce that this natu?-al resemblance can be carried no further. The objects of the different senses differ so widely from each other as to exclude any resemblance. Sound in particular, whether articulate or inarticulate, resembles not in any degree motion, taste, or smell ; and as little can it resemble any internal sentiment, feeling, or emotion. But must we then admit that nothing but sound can be imitated by sound ? Taking imitation in its strict and limited sense, as importing a direct resemblance between two objects, the pro- position must, I think, be admitted ; and yet in many passages that are not descriptive of sound, every person of cultivated taste and judgment must be sensible of a peculiar concord ox harmony between the sounds of the words and their meaning. As there can be no doubt, I apprehend, 214 KLVG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIII. of the truth of such an assertion, it remains for us in the next place to inquire into its cause, and if possible ascertain its reason. Now it has been well remarked by Lord Karnes, that resembling causes may produce effects that have no resemblance ; and causes that have no resemblance may produce resembling effects. A magnificent building, he says, for example, resembles not in any degree an heroic action, and yet the emotions they produce are concordant, and bear a certain kind of resemblance to each other. We are still more sensible of this resemblance in a song, when the music is properly adapted to the sentiment. There is no resemblance between thought and sound ; but there is the strongest resemblance between the emotion raised by music, tender and pathetic, and that raised by some plaintive elegy. Now, applying this observation to the present subject, it appears that in some instances the sound even of a single word makes an impression re- sembling that which is made by the thing it signifies. Witness, for instance, the word running, composed of two short syllables ; and still more remarkably such words as rapidity, impetuosity, precipitatioti, &c. Brutal manners produce in the spectator an emotion not unlike that which is produced by a harsh or rough sound, and hence the beauty of the figurative expression, rugged manners. Again, the word little, being formed by a very small opening of the mouth, has, as it were, a feeble and faint sound, which makes an impression resembling that made by a diminutive object. This resemblance of effects is still more remarkable Avhere a number of words are connected in a sentence. It will be often found that appropriate words, pronounced in succession, often make a very strong impression on the mind ; and when this impression happens to accord with that made by the sense, we are sensible of a complex emotion peculiarly gratifying; one proceeding from the sentiment, and the other from the melody or sound of the words. But the chief pleasure proceeds from having these two concordant emotions combined in per- fect harmony, and carried on in the mind to a full close. Except in the single case where sowid is described by words expressive of the different varieties of sound, all the examples given by critics of sense being imitated by sound, resolve themselves into a resemblance of effects. Emotions raised by sound and signification may have a resemblance ; but sound itself cannot have any resemblance to anything but sound. Proceeding, then, now to particulars, and beginning, then, with those cases where the emotions have the strongest resemblance, I observe first that, by a number of syllables in succession, an emotion is frequently raised extremely similar to that raised by successive action or motion. This will be evident even to th6se who are most defective in sensibility of ear or delicacy of taste, from the following fact, that the term 7nove- ment, in all languages, is equally applicable to both. In this manner successive motion, such as walking, running, galloping, can be imitated by a succession of long or short syllables, or by a due mixture of both. For example, slo7v motion may be justly imitated in a verse where syllables long in point ^quantity chiefly prevail, and the idea is properly carried out by the reader or speaker pronouncing such passage in what is termed slow time — take the following, from Tennyson : — Lect. XIII.] ON ELOCUTION. 215 " And slo7vly, sloivly, more and more. The moony vapour rolling round the king, Who seem'd the phantom of a giant in it, Enwound him fold by fold, and made him grey And greyer, till himself became as mist Before her, moving ghost-like to his doom." Secondly, on the other hand, swift, rapid, impetuous motion may be successfully imitated by a succession of short syllables, delivered in quick time, and with the short poise of the voice combined, as in the opening lines of Browning's " Good News from Ghent " :— '^ I sprang to the saddle, and Joris and he, I galloped, Dirck galloped.^ we galloped all three. '^ Thirdly, a line composed of monosyllables makes an impression by the frequency of its pauses, aided by the slow time and appropriate rhetorical pauses zx^di full poise of voice on the part of the reader, similar to that which is made by heavy laborious interrupted motion. Pope will supply us with a good illustration in the last of these two expressive lines : — " First march the heavy mules securely slow, O^er hills, o'er dales, der crags, der rocks they go." Fourthly, the impression made on the ear by rough harsh-sounding syllables in succession resembles that made by the sound of rough or tumultuous motion, especially when properly carried out by the art of the cultivated reader; whilst on the other hand, the impression of smooth sounds, gently and flowingly delivered, resembles that of soft gentle motion. The first couplet in the following lines, from Pope's translation of the Odyssey, will give us an admirable illustration of the former, while the concluding lines will serve well to exemplify the latter : — " 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 hawsers ride." Perhaps a still better illustration of the latter, and then of the former, is to be found in the same poet's " Essay on Criticism : " — " Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently bloivs. And the smooth stream ifi smoother tuonbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the soundi?ig shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar." Fifthly, to illustrate prolonged motion of various kinds, let us take some of the Alexandrine lines which the same poet so artfully and 2i6 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIII. judiciously introduces in some of his most beautiful passages. The first shall be of slmv motion prolonged : — " A needless Alexandrine ends the song That like a wounded snake drags its slo7v length along.'' The next o( forcible motion prolonged : — " The waves behind i?npel the waves before, Wide rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shored And our last example shall be of rapid motion prolonged. " Not so when szvift Camilla scows the plain, Flies o'er the unbending cor?i and skims along the main." I think I have now given a sufficient number of examples to illustrate adequately the leading principles of what, in default of a better term, is called imitative modulation. I just read, in concluding these various illustrations, one magnificent passage from Lord Bvron, in which every line may be cited as an example of imitative modulation : — " Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell, Then shrieked the titfiid, and stood still the brave , Then some leaped overboard with dreadful yell, As eager to anticipate their grave : And the sea yawn'd arouiid her like a hell ; And down she sucked with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he die. " And first one universal shriek there rusJid Louder than the loud ocean — like a crash Oi echoing thiuider — and then ^/Z/was hush'd Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash Oi billotos ; but at intervals ihtxo. gtish'd, Accompanied with a convulsive splash, A solitary shriek — the bubblifig cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony." Thus, then, it will be seen that in all descriptive reading much .expressive beauty is gained by " making the sound seem echo to the sense." As far as possible, the pronunciation of words should be such as will, consistently with the requirements of good taste, convey by their sound the actions they describe, and the objects which they represent. By availing himself of all the aids afforded by intonation, inflection, modulation, and poise, the skilful reader or speaker can often convey to the mind as vivid and impressive a picture as the artist can convey to the eye by means of his canvas, brush, and palette. In discussing this portion of the subject. Lord Kames well observes that the only general rule that can be given for directing the pronunciation, is to Lect. XIII.] OiV ELOCUTION. 217 sound the words in such a manner as to imitate or convey to the mind as strongly as possible an idea of the things they signify. In pronounc- ing words signifying what is elevated, the voice ought to be raised above its ordinary tone ; whilst, on the other hand, words expressive of grief, pathos, melancholy dejection, and kindred feelings of depression, should be pronounced in a low key of modulation. To convey the idea of stern, harsh, or impetuous passion, the tone in which the words should be pronounced is loud and strong. On the contrary, again, a gentle and kindly passion should be delivered in a soft, flowing, and melodi- ous tone. In Dryden's poem of " Alexander's Feast," the line " fallen, fallen, fallen ! " represents a gradual sinking of the mind, and therefore any person of taste, even without instruction in the art of elocution, would be almost certain instinctively to read each repetition of the words with a tone becoming more and more subdued. Another cir- cumstance which contributes greatly to the resemblance between sense and sound, is slowness or quickness of time in delivery ; for though the length or shortness of the syllables in point of quantity be ascertained accurately, yet the whole clause or sentence may be delivered either in slow, medium, or quick time. A clause or sentence ought to be pro- nounced slowly when it expresses a similar action, or when it conveys to the mind that which is grave, deliberate, solemn, or important ; while, on the other hand, it should be pronounced quickly when it describes action which is brisk or rapid, or conveys emotions that are lively, joyful, or impetuous. And now a few words in conclusion, in more especial reference to those who will read these Lectures hereafter. It is no more to be expected that a person will become an accomplished reader or speaker versed in all the resources which are afforded by the art of elocu- tion merely by becoming acquainted with the theory of the art and learning a determinate set of rules, than that he should become a finished vocalist by studying a treatise on the art of singing and learning the names of the different notes in music, their meaning and value. In one art as well as the other theory is requisite, but in elocution the power of properly inflecting and harmoniously modulating the voice is to be acquired only by example and practice, such as these King's College Evening Classes afford to every student who enters them. To you who listen to me, these Lectures hereafter may serve, I hope, as useful aids to memory in connecting mere theory with actual practice. By pro- nouncing immediately after a correct reader a series of exercises in inflection and modulation, a good ear will convey an impression to the mind of the leading principles of both, and practice will soon make an indifferent reader or speaker advance rapidly in improvement. But of course all persons vary in their natural gifts, and there is no art in which the advantage of possessing y^^//«^, taste, discretion, a7id education is more apparent than in that of Elocution. Last of all, I would say, in order to acquire the power of easily chang- ing the different keys in which you read or speak, at pleasure, accustom yourselves to pitch the voice in various keys, from the highest to the lowest you can command in range. It is very probably the case that few occasions will arise for employing so wide a latitude of modula- 2i8 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIII. tion in ordinary reading aloud or speaking in public ; but still the practice is most useful, and the actual exercise will give you such a power and command of voice as cannot be acquired by any other mode. Having duly carried out this practice till you can read with ease in a wide range of modulation from low keys to high, and from high to low, then read as exercises on this rule such compositions in poetry or prose (perhaps at first the former is best, on account of the better opportunity for sustaining the vowel sounds in syllables that are long in quantity), such compositions as have a variety of emotions, actions, or speakers introduced, or dramatic dialogues, observing the various keys in modu- lation which seem best adapted to each, and endeavouring to change them as nature and art jointly direct. Such practice will prove as bene- ficial to the voice as it is pleasant and profitable to the mind. Illustrations for Practice. THE LEGEND OF HORATIUS. — Macauloy. Meanwhile the Tuscan army, Right glorious to behold, C^Tde flashing back the noonday light, Rank behind rank, like surges bright, Of a broad sea of gold. Four hundred trumpets sounded^ A peal of warlike glee ; As that great host, with jneasured tread. And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head. Where stood the dauntless Three. The Three stood calm and silent. And looked upon the foes, And a great shout of laughter From all the vanguard rose : And forth three chiefs came spurring, Before that mighty mass ; To earth they sprang. Their swords they drew, And lifted high their shields, and^\ is indeed lon^ a.nA izuo sluvt ; but who does not see, by looking at his own linger, that the two short joints are not equally short? We have, in fact, long, short, and shorUr.^'' Lect. XIV.] OM ELOCUTION. 2jt foot in walking, or to the fall and rise of the time-beater in beating time to music. " I am well aware that there have been disputes and dififerences as to the meaning and application of those terms ; insomuch that some writers use them in an inverted sense — some calling that arsis which others call thesis; and vice-versa. Baccheius says: — '"Asc/i/ woiav XiyoiJ.iv mai ; ' Orctv /xir'soj^og ij 6 'ttovc, r,\iiKa dv fjLsXXufxsv i/x^uhcui. &iaiv d'e, -ttoiolv -^ ' Otolv ■/.uiMivoa.' ' What do we call arsis 1 When the foot is lifted up with the intention of taking a step. What thesis ? When it is put down.' "And the Scholiast to Hermogenes:* '"Apff/; xai 6sgi; xvsmg p-h 6tiofMa.<^s~ai, 'oi'. S-px^Tai 5 aTro Becrewi. oTof, irQXos. — Introd. Artis Musicae, p. 25. I refer to both these authors, as I find them in the Antiqu.-e Musicce Auclores Septeni of Meibomius. — (Amste', 1652.) Lect. XIV.] ON ELOCUTION. 233 wonderful part of the mechanism of the human body, that this alterna- tion and distinction of heavy and light is (from the very structure and action of the organs of voice) inherent in all spoken language. There is, and must be, an action and reaction regularly going on, which is the foundation of all measure in speech ; and which serves so to regulate our utterance, whether in reading, public speaking, or common conver- sation, — that all spoken language may be divided into musical bars, which have their regular and proper beginning and ending. There is a measure in speech, marked out and defined by a regular succession of action and reaction in the organs of voice, just as really and truly as there is in music. Now, in the action of the heart or beating of the pulse (and also in the ordinary process of respiration), the law of health is regularity: — so that the pulse beats time : and, when that regularity of action is disturbed, the physician immediately recognises a symptom of disease ; — a fact which did not escape the observation of Shakespeare ; for he makes Hamlet say — ' " My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep titne And makes as healthful inusic.'' So also in walking — whether quickly or slowly — we naturally keep time (so that a whole party can, and do, comfortably walk together, and keep step with step) ; and if we see a man walking irregularly, and not keep- ing time, we at once begin to think there is something the matter with him. Thus it is also in speaking or reading. The Law of Nature enjoins regular time-keeping — a regular measured alternation of heavy and light. And if we violate this law, and invert the process — so that the alternation proceed from light to heavy — the effect would be offen- sive and strange (even to those who could not tell why). And if the law be broken in regard to the regularity of the alternation, stammering and stuttering will be the almost inevitable consequence.* "I am not here going to explain the anatomical mechanism, and its action, upon which this regular alternation depends. That would require * "On this point, the following remarkable passage occurs in Steele's ' Prosodia Rationalis ; ' which is, to my mind, one of the most remarkable proofs of the accurate observation and penetrating judgment of the writer that can be found in the whole volume : — " 'The dislocated order of the Poise (if any one could pronounce so) would give pain to an audience. " ' People wlio stutter pronounce partly in this latter manner ; but it is notorious, when sucli persons sing, they never hesitate or stutter ; whence it may be supposed, the most easy and effectual method of curing them would be to accustom them to beat time to their reading and common discourse, by which means they might learn to speak in just time to the proper measure of their words and phrases. For it should seem, the cause of their hesitation and stuttering arises from some inaptitude to fall in immediately with the rhythmical pulsation or poise befitting their words; but which, in singing, they are enabled to do by the additional influence of the diastematic melody, wherein the CADENCES are more certainly pointed out than even in poetry, or any language, without additional music' "The principle here so clearly enunciated by anticipation, as the result of scientific observation and reasoning, had been discovered, adopted, and acted upon by my father in the cure of impediments, before he had ever heard of Steele's name ; and it was pursued by him, with great success, to the end of his life." 234 AGING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIV. a lecture of itself. But I must urge upon your attention the importance of keeping in remembrance the threefold distinction to which I have referred. It is highly important in various points of view. It is impor- tant in connection with all scientific and judicious instruction as to the management of the voice ; and in correcting various defects into which public speakers are liable to fall. " In short, without continual reference to the distinct nature of Quantity, Acce7if, and Foise, we cannot explain the phenomena of spoken language. But when we are clear upon these points we may go on to the consideration of other points, important in their place, such as force and loudness (between which also a distinction must be noted), and the different ways in which emphasis may be expressed. " And here I would also observe, that the threefold distinction I have insisted on is well worthy of the attention of the classical scholar. We all know that the subject of the classical metres is one of great diffi- culty. Whether we shall ever be able so to understand it, as to enter fully into the harmony and beauty of the versification, and especially the lyrical versification, of Greece and Rome, may be greatly doubted. The accounts of the Greek metres which have come down to our times, are (as is well known) derived mainly from the writers of the Alexandrian school. That these, apart from the labours and researches of modern scholars, would afford us very little satisfaction, is, I believe, admitted by all who have looked into the subject. And, with regard to other departments of their labours, we all know that, while the Alexandrian grammarians have transmitted to us a vast amount of useful information, of which we are very glad to avail ourselves, yet we cannot follow them implicitly as guides. We did not begin to have clear and enlarged views of the Greek language, or to make much real progress in the knowledge of it, till we began to shake off their trammels, and to use their materials with independence of judgment, and with far deeper insight into the philosophy of language than they ever possessed. If we have found this to be the case, in regard to the principles of grammar, and the knowledge of the language in general, may it not be fairly assumed that we must pursue a similar process in regard to what they have left us on the sub- ject of prosody ? We may gladly make use of all the information which they have transmitted to us. But, before we can be prepared fully to understand what we find in their writings, or to judge how far to receive, and how far to correct or reject, their principles and conclusions, does it not seem necessary to call to our aid the discoveries of modern science, that we may investigate the true principles of all spoken language? And is it not evident, that this can be done with immense advantage, by investigating those principles, in the first instance, with reference to a living language — with reference to our own mother tongue ? for, if we take this course, w^e can bring very many questions to the test of observa- tion and experiment, which (if taken up in reference to a dead language) would inevitably be matters of mere speculation. But, with the help of such experiments and observations, we may be enabled clearly to discern what must, from the very conformation and action of our vocal and enunciative organs, be common to all languages. And thus alone Lect. XIV.] ON elocution: 235 can we expect to be enabled rightly to understand, and duly to use, and wisely to correct, what ancient authors have handed down to our times. "And here I would more particularly observe, that, while learned authors have written with much erudition and with much abihty, to point out the distinction between accent and quantity ; it is not probable — I think I may say it is not possible — that they should lead us to any truly satisfactory conclusions, so long as they seem themselves to be in darkness and confusion as to that threefold distinction on which I have already insisted. I will not venture upon the question, whether or no the view which has been taken of the nature of acceiit be the true and correct one. I am not desirous of entering into controversy on that point. But I cannot understand how it is possible for us to be in a right position to enter upon that inquiry until we have disentangled ourselves from that confusion which has resulted, and which must result, from using the one word accetit to denote two things which are essentially distinct. We must, I think, distinguish between accent and poise, as well as between accent and quantity : we must, in short, distinguish/(?/i-(f from both accent and qua?itit)\ before we can have the whole question fairly before us. " But if these distinctions were clearly understood, and kept con- tinually in view, as Joshua Steele keeps them in view ; if it were seen that these distinctions are involved in the very nature of all spoken language — that they result from the structure and action of the organs of voice ; and that they lie at the foundation of the measure and melody of all verse ; then I think that some of our young and aspiring scholars, who are yet in the vigour of their years, might apply themselves with great advantage to a more thorough investigation of the Classical IMetres than has yet been accomplished. And I am persuaded that, in studying the science of Elocution, with reference first of all to a hving language, they would be enabled to discover principles which would lead them to a simple and natural solution of some of the anomaUes of the Homeric versification ; * in regard to which some of the explanations which have been attempted seem little better than guesses, which do not rest upon clear and definite principles. I therefore earnestly and confidently invite the attention of men of science, and men of literature, to the system which I endeavour to explain, and to the principles which I propound, as the foundation of that system of instruction which I pursue." Convinced as I am of the soundness of the views held by Mr. Thelwall, and so learnedly supported by him in the lecture from which I have just given an extract, I have always, you may have possibly remarked, refrained from ever using the term accent in the sense of * "Suppose, for instance, that careful observation should detect the continual use of a Digamma in our language. If it could be shown that the formation of such an ele- ment is involved, of necessity, in the natural action of tlie organs of voice, in passino- from one vowel to another; and that this element is 7iaturally an element of quamitv, of which the tendency is, to convert the preceding vowel into a diphtliong ; would not this go far to help us in thoroughly understanding and appreciating the force of the Disramma in the versification of Homer ? '" 236 KJiVG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIV. ijifledion of the voice. No terms can better define what are commonly called accented and unaccented syllables or words than those of heavy and light ; for there is or should be always a decided -weight of the voice on the former that makes them heavy, and a corresponding lightness of the voice on the latter, that keep up together this alternation of thesis and arsis. Now as I said in one of my earlier lectures, the ligaments of the larynx or vocal cords {cordcB vocales) are acted upon in different ways, by various minute muscles of wonderful delicacy, connected with the several cartilages I then enumerated. You will remember howl then explained that they must be brought into a certain position in order to produce sound or voice at all ; for in the ordinary state (\^hen we are not desiring or attempting to speak) the air passes in and out of the lungs through the vocal cords without producing any sound whatever in a state of health. But when these vocal cords have been brought into the vocalising position, their precise relation to each, and to the breath which passes between them, must be so modified as to produce all the varieties of high and low in the musical scale, as I have already stated, at greater length, and this seems to be effected chiefly at least by contracting or expanding, and so delicately modifying the size of the aperture. Now it is by a regular action and reaction that these marvellous vocal cords produce and keep up that alternation which is so well termed /m^, or that regular succession of the heavy 2iW^ the light, which is the foundation of all fluency and measure in speech, as well as in song. This, then, is produced by a slight but decided action between the thyroid and cricoid cartilages, which occasions an alternate tension and relaxation of the vocal cords. You will find that in many careful and elaborate works on the anatomy and physiological functions of the larynx, this most important action and reaction is overlooked, and it is only comparatively recently that attention has been directed to it, especially by those who have given their attention to the cure of stammering, and the removal of other impediments of speech. The truth is that poise, or the regular alterna- tion of heavy and light, has until the last thirty years been almost entirely forgotten, alike by physiologists and the great majority of the practical teachers of Elocution, as well as by those who have written works on the subject. The natural consequence was that in consider- ing the structure and physiology of the larynx, no notice whatever was taken of the mechanism and action by means of which this alternation is produced ; and yet without due attention to this point, the most accurate and scientific anatomist and physiologist will not be able to explain satisfactorily the other functions of the larynx. We ought to have, and indeed must have, clearly before our minds, all the several functions of that most wonderful, complex, and important organ to the human race, and the various phenomena which have to be accounted for, before we can be prepared to investigate its various parts and the special action of each, by means of which the various functions are performed, and each of the phenomena produced. Without these distinctions being carefully borne in mind, we may possibly attempt to explain one function, by reference to the means which are really Lect. XIV.] ON ELOCUTIOX. 237 employed to carry on another, and hence all kinds of mistakes may arise. Now, that such regular alternate action and reaction is in fact con- tinually going on, may indeed be felt distinctly with the finger, if you place it just between the thyroid and cricoid cartilages. Indeed, as Mr. Thelwall truly said on the occasion I alluded to, this is wholly "distinct from, and independent of, the varieties of loud and soft, forcible and feeble, high and low in the musical scale, and long and short in regard to the relative quantity of the syllables which form a bar in music or a foot in verse : it continues to take place in the absence of sonorous vibration, when the voice is hushed down to a mere whisper. Hence, in the nature of things poise, or the alternation of heavy and light {thesis and arsis), must be essentially distinct from acute and grave, io/ig and s/iort, loud and soft. Insomuch that the heavy syllable may be either long or short, acute or grave ; nay, although, cceteris paribus, the heazy syllable is more forcible than the light, and, therefore, yi'/rZ/^/i^ might be more naturally confounded with heavy than acute or lo7ig ; yet these are really distinct — insomuch that, in the almost imperceptible interval between a light syllable and the heavy one which naturally follows it in the succeeding bar, the voice might drop from its loudest elevation to a mere whisper, and yet the whispered syllable would still retain its proper poise — it would still be heavy" Many persons naturally carry out this poise admirably in delivery with- out ever having had any instruction in Elocution, especially those persons who are possessed of strong feelings, lively imaginations, and warm tem- perament, and particularly when they are speaking in public, or reading aloud any powerful descriptive or dramatic passage. Others, on the contrary, who are of cold, lethargic, unimpassioned temperament, or languid health, allow only the slightest amount of range of action and reaction to be perceptible, and hence the poise is inadequately main- tained, and the delivery in reading or speaking is poor, tame, and feeble, void of all proper expression, and often accompanied with a tendency to stammer or stutter. Indeed some of the worst cases of impediments of speech among the pupils who have come to me for their removal, I have found to arise chiefly from an almost total neglect from childhood of this important function of the larynx in properly carrying out its action and reaction or poise. The aim of the skilled and experienced instructor in elocution should be in all cases, but especially such as I have mentioned last, to show the pupil, by his own practical illustration first, and then by the pupil carefully following out his instructions, how the larynx can best be made to exercise the functions of action and reaction effectively, and so properly carry out the poise, without which all delivery must be ineffective, and neither poetry, blank verse, nor any other kind of rhythmical structure can be rightly rendered, or proper time in reading such' compositions truly observed. In fact, all English verse is constructed, and must be pronounced, with a regular succession and alternation of heavy and light syllables. No heavy sounds can successively follow each other without a slight pause occurring between them, the time of which might serve for the sound of a light syllable. 238 A7NG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIV. Let us take the following signs, which my predecessor here used for his pupils in the exercises which he made them go through in illustrating the doctrine of the poise. This mark A shall signify the heavy syllables, this .*. the light syllables, while an oviitted heavy syllable we will indicate by this mark • , and an omitted light syllable by this o, and a vertical line I shall be our time measurer, and separate the verse into its proper bars. As I have said already, the natural order of verse, and of its harmonious rendering in delivery, is from action to reaction, or from pulsation to remission, that is, from heavy to light. It is certain that the first bar of every line in poetry must have one syllable in thesis, or a heavy syllable, and though it may be followed by two or more in arsis, or light syllables (and perhaps, for the sake of simplicity and uniformity, we had better henceforth speak only of syllables which are heavy and those which are light), yet it is equally certain that tivo heavy syllables cannot be contained in one bar. That which is called in poe'try common measure, consists of bars of which each begins with a heavy syllable and ends with a Hght one, as the following illustration from an old poet of the seventeenth century will show us : — Wit's per- fection. Beauty's wonder A .-. A .•. A .-. A .-. Nature's pride, the Graces' Treasure. A .-. A .-. A .-. A ••. Triple measure is so called because it consists of three syllables in each bar, of which the first is heavy, and the two that follow in succession light. A well-known couplet from Dryden's " Alexander s Feast " will supply us with a good illustration — The • o .". And the prmces ap- king seized a A .-. .-. A d with a furious joy • A.'. .•. A o o flambeau with zeal to de- 1 stroy I A .-. A ' 1 A oo 1 You will often find that a very pleasing and melodious variety of rhythm is introduced by artistically uniting common with triple measure, as well as by the judicious introduction of what are termed imperfect measures. Now in reading these imperfect measures, as they are called, remember that pauses (of which I shall have to speak more fully here- after) must compensate or makeup the time, which the ///// measure requires, for do not forget that pause is just as much an element of rhythm as sound ; and bear in mind, also, that when you are reading aloud poetry of which the accurate conveyance in delivery requires the observance of rhetorical pauses, such pauses must occupy the full time of the regular measure — that is to say, every heavy syllable must be followed by either a light syllable or the time of one, and every light syllable must either be preceded by a heavy syllable, or else the time of the omitted syllable must be compensated for by a pause. Let us take these lines in illustration of examples of pause, and of imperfect measures : — Leg r. XIV. ] ON ELOCUTION. 2 Ye • .*. Ao airy A .•. thou Ao dark sprites 1 A o 1 • o that with • o Ao • .'. dark dark | wh A sur- a- D oft as o A.' passing A .-. mid the fancy calls A.-. A o glory crowned A.'. ,A o blaze of | noon Ao Covei A o -ing the A o beach A o 1 and .-. A .•• blackening A all the '. 1 A o strand. A • Ao • •*• A A A o 239 In pronouncing certain important or rhetorical words, as they are sometimes termed — that is to say, the words with which the rhetorician desires to make the most impression on his auditors — the heavy and light percussion may, as Mr. Bell, a well-known teacher of Elocution in Dublin, truly remarks, take place not unfrequently on one syllable ; the time of the simple sound being, as it were, distinguished and extended by a connected kind of swell and fall of the voice, as thus : — 1 Hail 1 A.-. • holy A.-. light A offsprin A .. gof heaven A .-. first- born A.". 1 Brought 1 A Death A.-. into the A. .. world A and all our A .-. woe A.". Oh A.-. • that th A .•. IS too A- too A--. sc li d fles A h woul d melt A.-. The number of measures in a line, either caused by soimd or pause, is immaterial, so that the ti/ne of each is regularly preserved. You will also have noticed that the weight of the voice in reading these illustrations has varied much in point of degree as it pronounced the heavy syllables of the words. As a general rule, I may remark that a greater degree of weight is given by the percussion of the voice on the heavy syllables of nouns and ve7-bs than on the other words in a sentence, as they are usually the most important. Indeed the latter must always be considered as a rhetorical word ; for it is in fact what its origin (iierbiini) imports, th^ word of the sentence, or that which (to quote from Archbishop Trench's admirable book " On the Study of Words ") constitutes, as it were, the soul of the sentence, and gives it all its power and vitality. Sheridan in his third lecture alludes to one fault which he says was very common in his day among public speakers, and more especially among actors on the stage, and that was making light syllables improperly heavy, so that such persons, for instance, instead of saying " horror, nature, A.-. A delightful, forgiveness," as they ought to .-. A .-. .-. A .-. words thus — -"horror, nature, delightful, AA A A A A A do, would pronounce the thereby im- forgiveness, AAA projDerly making every syllable heavy. He asserts that in his time 240 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIV. (1766), the chief fault of theatrical pronunciation consisted in this ; and adds that, in his opinion, there can hardly be a greater fault in pro- nunciation, for it is an offence against the very constitution of our language. Has this fault ceased to exist among our present preachers, speakers, or readers, or has it altogether passed away from our modern actors and actresses ? All persons, says Sheridan, who are tolerably well educated, and pronounce English words properly, of course lay this weight (or accent, as he and all other writers before Steele's time termed this percussion of the voice) properly and on the right syllables and words, and do not use it when it ought not to be employed ; and in conversation no faults of this nature are commonly observable. But many, when they come to read or speak in public, begin at once to transgress the rules of poise as well as quantity, and light syllables are made heavy and short vowels long. This arises from a mistaken notion, entertained by some, that words are rendered more distinct to a large assembly by making all the syllables of words heavy, and all the vowels that are short more or less improperly long; and some would seem to think that it adds to the solemnity and impressiveness of a sermon, speech, or recitation, if everything is made different from what it properly ought to be and usually is in private discourse. The elements of poise and quantity may be intensified according to the strength of the emotion we have to express, and the size of the area we have to fill with the voice, but never violated by making light syllables heavy, and short syllables long. Any error in this respect at once gives an artificial air to language so delivered in public ; inasmuch as it differs from the usual, and what is called natural, manner of utterance, and is on that account, of all others, to be avoided most by public speakers, whose business it is industriously to conceal all appearance of art ; and especially should this be avoided by actors and actresses, whose very office it is, in Shakespeare's phrase, "to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature." If any one, says Sheri- dan, pronounces the words "fortune, encroachment, conjecture, grati- A .-. .-. A .-. .-. A .-. A.-. tude, to-morrow, happiness, patience," as "fortune, encroachment, con .-. .-.A .-. A.-. .-.A .-. AA AA A A jecture, gratitude, to-morrow, happiness, patience," he does not use A A AAA AA A AA AAA words, at least English words, but disjointed syllables ; and yet this is an error into which many persons fall when they desire to speak with what they think to be becoming gravity and solemnity ; and all this is done for want of knowing in what true solemnity of delivery consists, which, though it may demand in point of time a slower utterance than usual, yet requires that the same proportion, as regards poise and quantity, be observed on the syllables, as is the case in musical notes in an air which, however, may be played or sung in quicker or in slower time. The true rule, and the only one, in my opinion, consistent with good taste, is for all public speakers who can pronounce English properly to lay the weight of the voice always on the same syllable, and the same letters of the syllable, which they would in ordinary discourse, and to Lect. XIV.] ON elocution: 241 take special care that they do not lay any weight or stress upon any other syllable, unless there be a reason for it, as when we desire to suggest an antithesis ; as, for instance, when I say, " This is my book," A implying not yours or any other person's book, or, " and when you have read it put it on the table," meaning, "and not under the table." This 4 is a rule so plain, simple, and easy to be remembered, that nothing but affectation, or bad habits contracted from imitating others, can prevent its always being observed and properly carried out. And yet the want of knowing or attending to this rule is one of the chief sources of that artificial mode of reading and speaking in public which is so often observed, and which is so justly complained of by persons of refined ear and cultivated taste. On the whole, it may be said that there are few points in our language so well settled as the question on what syllables in words the weight or stress should be thrown. But still there are, it is true, some few words that have occasioned disputes as to what syllable should receive the stress or weight of the voice ; and of course, where reasonable doubt exists, every man is at liberty to choose the mode of pronunciation which seems to him the best ; and in giving the preference, the ear ought, beyond all doubt, to be consulted as to that which is the most euphonious mode of pronunciation. It will be perceived, from what I have already said, how close is the analogy between the rhythm of speech and that of song ; and in the rhythmical illustrations which I have given of the former, it will be seen that the principle on which they are divided into bars is essentially the same as in the latter. In music, the strong accent, also called the down-beat, always falls immediately after the bar-line ; and if we take any melody, and desire to mark the accents or down-beats, we must draw a bar- line before each strong or down-beat of the melody. Thus, whether we sing a fine song, play a grand piece, recite a beautiful poem, or deliver an impassioned oration, the rendering of all will fall naturally into bars, and time may be marked and beaten to them all on the same principle ; and whenever the true orator uses gesture, he does it unconsciously and automatically, on this very principle. In Mr. Herbert Spencer's third edition of his "System of Synthetic Philosophy," * there is a most interesting chapter in the first volume en- titled "The Rhythm of Motion," the whole of which will well repay the most attentive perusal. But there is one passage in it, at p. 265, bearing so closely upon the subject of this lecture, that I cannot refrain from giving you the quotation at length. Mr. Spencer says : — "A much more conspicuous rhythm, having longer waves, is seen during the outflow of emotion into poetry, music, and dancing. The current of mental energy that showsitself in these modes of bodily action is not continuous, but falls into a succession of pulses Poetry is a form of speech which results when the emphasis is regularly recurrent ; that is, when the muscular effort of pronunciation has definite periods * Williams & Norgate, London, Q i^2 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIV. of greater and less intensity — periods that are complicated with others of like nature answering to the successive verses. Music in still more various ways exemplifies the law. There are recurring bars in each of which there is a primary and a secondary beat. There is the alternate increase and decrease of muscular strain implied by the ascents and descents to the higher and lower notes, ascents and descents composed of smaller waves, breaking the rises and falls of the larger ones in a mode peculiar to each melody. And then we have further the alterna- tion of piano and forie passages. That these several kinds of rhythm characterising aesthetic expression are not, in the common sense of the word, artificial, but are intenser forms of an undulatory movement, habi- tually generated by feeling in its bodily discharge, is shown by the fact that they are all traceable in ordinary speech ; 7uhich in every sefitence has its primary and secondary emphasis, and its cadence, containing its chief rise and fall, complicated with subordinate rises and falls, and which is accompanied by a more or less oscillatory action of the limbs when the emotion is great." The whole of this admirable chapter is well worthy the closest study, and abounds in materials for thought and reflection. As an exercise in the art of acquiring and properly maintaining poise, or the distinction between words or syllables which are heavy and those which are light when reading poetry or prose, I append the follow- ing Illustrations, selected from a very useful little manual by Mr. R- G. Parker, entitled " Progressive Exercises in Rhetorical Reading." * Illustrations for Practice. HOHENLINDEN. 7 On A/. Linden A .•. i 77 when the A .-. sun was A .-. low A.-. 7 All A.'. bloodless A .-. 77 A .'. lay the un- A .-. .-. trodden s A .-. I now 77 7And A.-. dark as A .'. winter A .-. 7 was the | flow A .'. .•. 1 A/. 7 Of A.-. Iser A.-. rolling A.'. rapidly. A .•. .•. 77 77 7 But a:. Linden A .-. 77 saw an- A .-. other A.'. sigh A/ When the A .'. drum A.". beat 7 ^t A.-. A.' dead of i . A/. light A .-. 7 Com A.-. - mandinf A :^ y fires of c A .'. i leath 7 to A.'. light A.-. 7T A he dar A mess 7 A o fl ler seen A .' ery 77 77 Allman, 463 Oxford Street, price is. Lect. XIV.] ON ELOCUTION. 243 7 By A/. Each A.-. 7 And A .'. 7 To A/. Then A .•• Then A.-. torch and A .'. horseman A .-. furious A.-. .-. join the A .-. shook the A /. rushed the A .-. .'. trumpet 77 fast ar- rayed A .-. A .'. A.'. drew his battle blade 77 A .'. 1 A A .• 77 77 I 7And I A/. Far flashed A/. A/. 7And redder dreadful A .•. h L c I louder than the A .'. /. .'. every A.-. .-. revelry, A .-. ••. charger A .'. 77 neighed A .'. 7 hills 7with thunder riven A.-. A.-. A .•. A.'. steed ! 7 to battle driven | A.-. lA.-. A .-. A.-. 1 7 the A.-. yet A/. red A/. 7 those A ••. bolts of A .*. 7ar- A.'. heaven A .'. 77 scarce A.'. A .'. A 7 On Linden's hills of A .'. A .'. A /. 7 And darker yet 7 '^^^ A /. A.'. A.-. A .'. 7 Of Iser rolling rapidly. A.-. A.'. A.-. A.'..'. 7'Tis morn 77 7 but A /. A .-. A .-. 7 Can pierce the war-clouds A.-. A .-. A /. 7 Where furious Frank A .'. A/..'. A.'. 77 Shout in their sulphurous A .•. .'. A .'. .-. 7 The I combat deepens A /. I A /. A .•. 7 Who rush to glory A .•. A .'. A/. Wave 77 A .'. 7 And charge A .-. A ••. Few few shall A.'. A.-. tillery. A/./, fires shall A .*. blood-stained A .•. be the A.-. 77 77 glow A/. snow A.", flow A.-. 77 77 77 yon lurid sun A.". A/. A/. rolling dun 77 .•./. A.-. 7 and j fiery j Hun A .'. A."./. A.'. 77 canopy. A .•. /. On A/. 77 77 77 7 ye A/. brave A.". 77 Munich A .-. 7 with A .'. part A.'. 77 7 or the A .-. .-. all thy A .'. grave A.". banners A.'. 77 77 77 wave A.'. all A.'. where A.-. 7 thy A .'. many A .-. chivalry. A /. .'. meet A/. 77 77 77 77 244 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIV. 7 The A /. 7 And A .-. 7 Shall A snow 7 shall be their winding shee h 1 ^*i t' / / A.-. A .-. .-. .-. A .'. A.-. 1 ' every turf 7be- neath their feet A.-..-. A.-. A.-. A .-. A.'. be a soldier's sepulchre 77 77 .-.A A .-. A.- [The pupil will observe that prose as well as poetry is made up of similar measures of speech. The only difference in sound, between poetry and prose, is tliat poetry or verse consists of a regular succession of similar measures, which produce an harmonious impression on the ear; while in prose the different kinds of measure occur promiscuously without any regular succession. The following example affords an instance of prose divided off into measures.] Revelations, Chap. v. ir. And I be- A .-. .-. round a A .-. held A.-, bout the A .-. 77 7 and the A .-. .-. 7 and I A .'. .-, throne A.-. number of them A .-. .-. A heard the A .-. 7 and the A .-. .-. 7 vvas A .-. voice of A .-. beasts A .'. ten 7 A .'. many A .-. 7 and the A .-. .-. thousand A .'. angels A^•. elders 7.-. times A.-. ten 7 A .-. thousand A .-. oud A voice A.-. 7 and A.-. 77 thousands of A .-. .-. Worthy is the A .-. .-. .-. thousands A .-. Lamb that was A .-. .-. 77 Saving with A .-. .-. slain7 A .-. 7 to A.-. re ceive A.-, strength A .-. power A .-. 7 and A .-. 7 and A honour A .-. 7 and A.-. riches A.*. glory A.'. 7 and A.-. 7 and A .-. wisdom A .'. blessing. A .-. 7 and A .-. [In the following extracts the marks of the accented and unaccented syllables are omitted, but the bars and rests are retained. The usual punctuation is also restored ] Part of the Ninth Chapter of St. John. And as | Jesus | passed | by,7 | 7 '^"^ I saw a | man which was blind from his | birth. | 77 I 77 I ^^'^ '""^^ d^^' I ciples | asked him, saying, | Master, | who did | sin, | 7 this | man | 7 or his | parents, that he was | born 7 | blind ? | 7 7 I 7 7 I Jesus | answered, | Nei ther hath this | man | sinned | nor his [ parents : | 77 I ^^'^ ^'"'^'^t the works of I God | 7 should be | made 7 | manifest in | him. 77 I 77 I must I work the | works of | him that | sent me, | while it is | day; 77 I 7 '■^^e I ^'ght I cometh | 7 when | no 7 | I'lian | can 7 | work.7 77 I 77 I 7 ^s I long I 7^s I I am in the | world, 7 | I | am the 1 light I 7 of the | world. | 77 | 77 | When he had | thus 7 | Lect. XIV.] ON ELOCUTION. 245 spoken, | 7 he [ spat on the | ground, 7 | 7 ^^^^ I i^i^de ] clay ] 7 of the I spittle, | and he a- | nointed the | eyes7 | 7ofthe | blind | man 7 with the I clay,7 | 7 ^'^^ I ^^^^ yxnlo him, | Go, 7 1 wash in the ])ool of I Siloam, | 7 7 I (which is, by in- | terpre- | tation, | Sent,) 7 717 717 -^^ went his | way, | therefore, | 7 ^nd | washed, 7 and I came | seeing. 1771771 7 The I neighbours, | therefore, | 7^'^'^ I they which be- | fore had I seen him, | that he was ] blind, | 77 I ^^^^' 7 I ■'■^ "°^ I ^^'^ 7 he that | sat and | begged ? I 7 7 I 7 7 I Some | said, 7 I This | is he ; I 7 7 i others | said, 7 I He is | like him : | 7 7 I 7 but | he said they unto him, 77 I 7^^ I answered said, 1 7 I I am I he. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Therefore 77 1 How I were thine | eyes | opened? | 77 and I said, | 7 A ] man | 7 that is | called | Jesus | made | clay, 7 and a- | nointed mine | eyes, | 7 and | said unto me, | Go to the pool of I Siloam, | 7 and | wash : 7 1 7 7 I 7 ^^^ ^ 1 went and washed, | 7 and I re- | ceived | sight. | 7 7 I 7 7 I Then | said they unto him, | 77 Where | is he? | 77 | 7 | He | said, | 77 | I know not. 177177 7 They I brought to the ] Pharisees | him that a- | fore time I 7 was blind. 1771 ^"^ ^'^ ^^"^^ th^ I Sabbath | day 7 I 7 when | Jesus made the | clay, | 7 and | opened his | eyes. | 7 7 I Then a- | gain the I Pharisees | also | askedhim | howhehadre- | ceived his | sight. 7717 He I said unto | them, | 7 He | put 7 | clay 7 | 7 upon mine eyes, | 7 and I | washed | and do | see. | 7 7 I 7 7 I T-herefore said some of the | Pharisees, | 7 This | man is | not of | God, | 7 because 7 he 1 keepeth not the | Sabbath | day. | 7 7 I C>thers | said, 7 | How can a | man that is a | sinner | do such | miracles ? | 7 7 I -^^"^ there was I 7 a di- I vision a- | mong them. 17717717 'Th^Y ^^7 I unto the I blind | man a- | gain, 717 71 ^^' hat j sayest j thou of him ? j that he hath | opened thine ] eyes? | 77 I 7 He said, 7 I He is a | prophet. 1771771 4. Psalm cxxxix. O I Lord, 7 I thou hast | searched me, j 7 and | known me. j 77 I 77 I 7 Thou I knowest my | down | sitting 1 7 and mine 1 up- 7 | ris- ing ; 1 7 thou 1 under- | standest my | thoughts j 7 a- | far j off.7 | 7 I 77 I Thou 1 compassest my | path, 7 1 7 ^"d my | lying | down, 7 j and art ac- [ quainted with j all my | ways. | 7 7 I -^or there is | not a | word in my j tongue, | 7 but | lo, 7 j O 7 1 Lord, | thou 7 I knowest it I alto- I gether. | 7 7 I 7 7 I Thou hast be- | set me | 7 be- | hind and be- j fore, 7 I 7 ^" Left — of six hundred. 6 ^^ Then the third day after this, — While Enoch slumbered — motionless and pale, — And Miriam watched, — and dozed, — at intervals, < There came so loud a calling of the sea. That all the houses in the haven RANG. — He woke, — he ROSE, — he spread his arms abroad, Crying WITH A loud VOICE ; — "A SAIL, — A SAIL, — I AM SAVED-I AM SAVED. = ^^ And so fs^^ back, — and spoke no more. 7 DosT thou come here to whine ? To OUTFACE me by leaping in her grave? > Be BURIED QUICK WITH HER, and so will / And if thou prate of Mountains, — let them throw Millions of acres on us, < till our ground Singeing his pate, against THE BURNING ZONE, MAKE OSSA LIKE A WART.^Nay, an' thou It mouth /'// RANT as well as tliou. Lect. XV.] ON ELOCUTION. 263 In opposition to emphasis, we have in Elocution an element which is termed the slur. It is such a management of the voice in reading or speaking as is opposed to emphasis. It will be remarked in general that when a word or clause of a sentence is pronounced with any degree of emphatic power it is usually louder, and the inflection is more noticeable from the duration of the vowels being rather longer than ordinary. When a clause or sentence is technically said to be shirred, it is meant that it is intended to be read in a different tone of voice, usually lower, more rapidly as regards time, not so forcibly as regards power, and with sub- dued inflections on the words so slurred. In the illustrations for practice which follow, the words which receive the chief emphatic force are printed in capitals, whilst the parts which are intended to be slurred axe: printed in italic letters. The judicious introduction of the slur will add much to the beauty and expressiveness of delivery, particularly where there are great number of parenthetic, explanatory, or subordinate clauses or details. The slur forms, as it were, the background, which throws into strong relief the more important w^ords and clauses, and so adds greatly to the clearness of its meaning, and general power of expression. Illustrations for Practice. 1. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more : By Sinel's death, I know I am thane of Glamis ; but how of Cawdor ? The thane of Cawdor lives, a prosperous gentleman ; and to be king stands not within the pros- pect of belief, no more than to be Cawdor. Say, from WHENCE jF(?« otve this strange intelligence 2 or WHY upon this blasted heath you stop our way with such prophetic greeting ? 2. PRIME CHEERER, LIGHT ! of all material beings FIRST AND BEST ! EFFLUX DIVINE ! NATURE'S RESPLENDENT ROBE ! without zvhose vesting beauty all were wrapt in unessential gloom ; and THOU, O SUN ! SOUL of surrounding WORLDS ! in whom best seen shines out thy Maker / — may I sing of thee ? 'Tis by thy secret, strong, attractive force, as with a chain indissoluble bound, thy system rolls entire ; from the far-bourn of utmost Saturn, wheeling zvide his round of thirty years, to 'M.Qrc\xxy,%iihose disk can scarce be caught by philosophic eye. lost in the near effulgence of thy blaze. 3. But yonder COMES the powerful KING OF DAY, rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, the kijidling azure, and the mountain's brow illumed with fluid gold, his near approach betokeri glad. LO, NO^V APPARENT ALL, aslant the de7v- bright earth atid coloured air, he looks in boundless MAJESTY abroad, and sheds the shining day, that bur- nished plays on rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams, HIGH-GLEAMING from afar. 4. THOU, glorious mirror, where the Almighty'' s form glasses itselj in tempests ; in ALL time, calm or convulsed, in- breeze or gale or stortn, icing the pole, or in the torrid clime dark-heaving, BOUNDLESS, ENDLESS and SUBLIME — the image of Eternity — the throne of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime, the monsters of the deep are made ; each zone obeys thee— thou goest forth, DREAD, FATHOMLESS, ALONE. 264 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. CENTRE OF Light and energy ! thy way is through the unknown void ; thou hast thy throne, morning and evening, and at noon of day, far in the blue, untended and alone : Ere the first-wakened airs of earth had blown, on didst thou march, triumphant in thy light. Then didst thou send thy glance, which still hath flown wide through the never- ending 7C'orlds of night ; and yet thy full orb burns with flash unquenched and bright. In thee, FIRST LIGHT, the bounding ocean smiles, when the quick winds uprear it in a swell, that rolls in glittering green arowid the isles, ivhere ever-springing fruits and blossoms dwell. THINE are the MOUNTAINS,— w/^^r^ they purely lift S7wws that have never wasted, in a sky which hath 710 stain ; beloiu the storm may drift its darkness, and the thunder-gust roar by ; ALOFT, in thy eternal smile, they lie, DAZZLING but COLD ;— thy farewell glance looks there, and when below thy hues of beauty die, girt round them as a rosy belt, they bear into the high, dark vault a brow that still is fair. I have now to ask you to consider the uses of, and the effects produced by, those suspensions of all vocal sound during a perceptible, and in numerous forms of composition, especially Poetry, a measurable space of time, which occur in reading and speaking; and which may be termed Rhetorical Punctuation. To the speaker and to the hearer, such pauses in the utterance of language are equally necessary : to the former, that he may take breath, and replenish the amount of air in his lungs, without which he cannot proceed far in his reading or speaking, any more than he could do in singing ; and to the latter, that the ear may be relieved from the fatigue of listening to a continuous and uninterrupted flow of sound ; for the organs of hearing, like those of voice and speech, require these temporary rests, brief though they may be, in order to carry on their several functions easily and without fatigue. These are good physiological reasons for proper pauses being introduced; but there is a sound psychological one as well. The mind requires a certain amount of time to appreciate fully the words that are uttered, to mark the distinction of sentences and the several clauses of which they are composed ; and these pauses are not only thus necessary and useful, but they become also highly aesthetic and ornamental in the recital or reading aloud of poetry, when reduced to definite proportions of time, in the same way as the rests do in music : and as carefully as these latter are observed by the vocalist when singing, should the reader or reciter observe the rhetorical pauses or ccesuras of poetry, in order to mark its time and rhythmical flow, as you have seen explained in my preceding lecture on poise, and exemplified by the illustrations therein given. Sheridan in his fifth lecture on Elocution enters very fully and elaborately into the subject of pauses ; and Sir James Burrow, Dr. Bowles, Johii Walker, John Thelwall and his son, the late Rev. A. S. Thelwallofthis College, Ewing, Dr. J. E. Carpenter, Frobisher, and other writers in England and America, have written fully on the great impor- tance of rhetorical punctuation and the principles by which it should be Lect. XV.] ON ELOCUTION. 265 regulated. I shall take an eclectic course in addressing you on this essen- tial element of Elocution, and from all these writers select those views and rules which seem to me the most consonant with reason and good taste. In the first place I would observe broadly and generally that pauses in reading aloud, recitation, and public speaking, must be formed upon the manner in which a good and fluent talker expresses his views in ordinary, sensible conversation ; and not upon the artificial manner apt to be acquired from reading books with no other principle to guide us save that of attending to the pauses that are indicated by commas, semi- colons, colons, and full stops. It will be by no means sufficient to attend only to these marks of punctuation, as they are used by the printers ; for these are far from marking all the pauses which should be made by the public speaker, reader, or reciter. A mechanical attention to these resting-places for the voice, and to none but these, has been perhaps one cause of that monotonous reading so wearisome to the ear, and so much complained of as characterising a large part of the clerical reading of the present day, and which, I am disposed to think, has been very possibly induced in no small degree by such readers paying this kind of mechanical attention to the marks of punctuation only, and so being led to adopt a similar tone at every stop, and a uniform mode of terminating every period. The primary use of these printers' marks of punctuation is to assist the reader's mind through the eye in discerning the grammatical construction ; but it is quite as a secondary object that they serve to regulate his pauses in reading aloud, or in recitation. There is also another most important rule in regard to pauses, that I would earnestly impress upon your recollections, and it is this : In order to render them pleasing to the ear and expressive to the mind, they must not only be made in the right places, but the words forming the clause which precedes such pauses, must be delivered in that pitch or key, and with that appropriate inflection of the voice, by which the character of the pause is intimated, much more indeed than by its length in point of duration, which can seldom be exactly measured ; for, as regards this, a great deal must be left to the good taste and discre- tion of each individual reader and reciter; and the only general rule I can give in regard to these particulars is, that in all cases we should endeavour to regulate ourselves by attending to the manner in which we naturally speak, and the pauses we naturally make, when engaged in real, earnest, animated discourse with others. The great utility of attending to this rule will be obvious to you at once, when you consider how necessary it is that the hearers whom you are addressing should be able to follow you easily with their minds, throughout the whole of the composition which you are reading aloud or reciting to them. Now, if pauses had no other distinction but the time of their duration, it is evident that not only must the reader or speaker always be exceedingly particular in observing the exact proportion of time with regard to the different pauses (a thing scarcely practicable in common discourses o*: ordinary conversation), but there would be a further disadvantage if such a principle as this only prevailed. The hearer would have to give up almost his whole attention during these pauses to measuring their dura- 266 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. tion, without which their nature, of course, might be mistaken. This, too, would be a thing absurd in theory and ahnost impossible to reduce to practice ; or if attempted to be carried out, must, by this distraction of the attention, have a very injurious effect on the mind of the hearer, whose main object should be to concentrate all its powers to attaining the principal end in view, which every attentive hearer has, viz., a full, clear, and accurate idea of the speaker's or reader's meaning. But, on the other hand, when the very nature of the pause is indicated at its beginning by the very inflection with which the immediately preceding clause or word was ended, it really matters not how much the pause may be prolonged ad libitum ; for the mind of the hearer is prepared by the very nature of the inflection used, to go along with that of the speaker or reader, as soon as the latter thinks proper to resume, whether it be after the shortest pause or after one of longer duration than might seem absolutely necessary. It must not be forgotten, however, that in the reciting or reading aloud of all poetical compositions, the cultivated ear will miss one important source of gratification, if a due proportion of rhythmical pauses be not observed, as well as proper inflections and right modulation employed. The aesthetic sense demands that this observance of metrical time be satisfied, and there is a feeling of disappointment if it is neglected. But still, so far as the mind is concerned, no further harm is done ; for the employment of the right inflections will convey to it clearly enough the real meaning of the verse. But speeches, sermons, and other prose compositions are untram- melled by the fetters of metre ; and this very circumstance gives the reader or speaker such a discretionary power over the pauses as, judiciously used, may contribute much to the main end he should ever keep in view, viz., that of making his meaning as clear as possible, and impressing it strongly on the minds of his hearers. For this reason he may always proportion the length of his pauses to the importance of the sense, and not merely to the grammatical structure of clauses in sen- tences, in which like pauses are always placed in clauses and sentences of like construction. I shall give a summary of the rules laid down by the best authorities, and gathered from their various works, and also illustrate them by selections for practice, before I close my remarks on the subject I am at this time discussing. But I may say at present by way of illustration, that if there should be any proposition or sentiment that you desire to enforce more strongly than another, you may precede it by a longer pause than usual, which will awaken attention, and give what you deliver the more weight and importance ; and you may also allow a longer pause to take place after it has been delivered, which will give time for the mind to meditate upon it, and by such reflection allow it to sink the deeper. The long pause before and after some specially important word, even where neither the grammatical sense nor ordinary custom would admit of any, is also a powerful means, espe- cially when accompanied with an unusual degree of stress upon the word, of giving it emphatic prominence ; but this license, of course, requires to be exercised with considerable judgment and discretion. Lect. XV.] ON ELOCUTION. 267 If you are only careful to use the proper inflections on the words that precede all pauses, you may at any time, when reading or speaking, take breath, if necessary, even at the smallest pause, without prejudice to the sense ; as the inflection will sufficiently indicate the nature of the pause without reference to its duration : and there is an infallible rule to guide you as to what is the proper inflection in such cases, and it is this : give exactly the same inflection that would be appropriate to the clause preceding the pause that you w^ould do if you were to proceed more quickly to the next clause of the sentence and were not to make a stop of greater length than usual. Sheridan most truly says, that ignorance, or rather the false rule under which people are too often instructed in the art of reading aloud, viz., that the breath is never to be taken but when there is a full stop or completion of the sense of the passage, has made it exceedingly difficult to many persons to utter long sentences at all, and impossible to those whose powers of respiration are at all defective. Such persons therefore are very apt when reading or speak- ing either to run themselves entirely out of breath (a misfortune painful to themselves and most disagreeable to their hearers, destroying all grace and power), and not to stop until they are compefled to do so from utter failure of breath and the necessity of replenishing the lungs with air in the best way they can ; and this is often likely to occur at the most improper places for taking breath : or else, if it is a very long sentence, they sub- divide it, as it were, into as many distinct sentences as they make occasions for breathing, often to the utter destruction of all perspicuity of meaning. It may be truly said that it is quite as important to a speaker or reader that he should at all times have his lungs supplied with a sufficient quantity of breath, as it is for the pipes of an organ to have a sufficient quantity of air supplied them to produce vibration and conse- quently proper musical tone. Nothing therefore can be more practically useful to him to bear in mind than the practice of the rule just given, as it will enable all persons who do not labour under some serious defect in the organs of respiration, to deliver the longest sentences that can be constructed with perfect ease, and with the voice properly sustained to the very last. Sheridan lays down the axiom that poise is the link which connects syllables together and forms them into words ; but that emphasis is the link which connects words together and forms them into sentences, or clauses of sentences ; and that emphasis alone will not adequately distin- guish the members of sentences without the introduction of such rhetori- cal pauses as those I have mentioned, and the use of the right inflection on the words before and after such pauses : and he illustrates this by two of the examples given in his Lecture on Emphasis ; for in the line that concludes Macbeth's well-known speech — " Making the green one red," the meaning could not have been mistaken had a comma been placed after the word green, as thus — " Making the green, one red j" and if the line taken from "All for Love," 268 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. "To place thee there where only thou couldst fail," had only been punctuated thus, with a comma after each of the three emphatic words — " To place thee there, where only, thou, couldst fail " — the full meaning of the passage would have been at once unmistakably perceptible by the pauses made after the words where the commas are placed, accompanied of course by the right inflections. If, therefore, you wish to practise yourselves in the art of reading aloud correctly, punctuate according to Sheridan's rule. Find out and mark each emphatic word with one or more lines drawn under it, according to the degree of emphasis which you think its meaning requires, and after (or if occasion specially demands also before) such word place a comma, or such other stop as you may think proper, by which to indicate the duration of the pause. Then consider what inflections should be used, and for what time the voice would be sus- pended if you were speaking the sentence as embodying your own sentiments, and mark it accordingly, together with the appropriate changes of key ; and it may be as well, until quite familiar with the law of poise on which the rhythm of speech so essentially depends, to use the signs which show what syllables are heavy and what are light. You will thus have the piece, whether prose or poetry, completely scored, as it were, with all the elements that combined make up the music of speech ; and as the vocalist sings a song according to the notes before him, so do you read the piece according to the signs you have put down indicating all the various elements in Elocution that should properly be employed in its delivery. A few days' steady practice on this principle will soon make you familiar with the laws by which their employment should be governed ; and you will soon find that you begin to use them all correctly, almost as unconsciously and automatically as a well-educated man writes and speaks his language grammatically, without having in his mind every rule in grammar which governs its construction and composition : and if at any time you should suddenly be called upon to read anything aloud at sight, put into practice that power which the eye with a Httle training speedily acquires, of being able to take in all the words of a clause at a glance and convey their meaning to the brain, and speak them looking at your audience, and not, as is too often the case, with your head and neck bent down and your eyes fixed upon the page, to the destruction of all ease, grace, power, and expression. In other words, briefly, let your chief aim in reading aloud at sight be thus, to gather the full meaning of the sentence yourself and then by a knowledge of the principles of Elocution, convey that meaning thoroughly to the minds of your hearers by your mode of delivery. I must now call your attention to another kind of pause, of which I have hitherto only spoken incidentally, a pause not governed so much by laws relating to the meaning of the passage, as dependent on the esthetic sense being gratified through the ear. This kind of pause is, Lect. XV.] ON ELOCUTION. 269 as I have said, called thec?esuraor rhythmical pause ; and I have given you some illustrations of this in my Lecture on Poise, Sheridan enters into the subject of rhythmical pauses as an essential element to the reading aloud of poetry, at some little length, Walker more minutely, and Lord Kames still more copiously and analytically in the chapter on Beauty of Language in versitication, in Cap. XIII. section i of his " Elements of Criticism ; " and if you wish to investi- gate thoroughly the philosophical theory on which the laws of rhythmical pauses are based, you cannot do better than study the subject in all the variety of its applications in the works of the three authors I have just mentioned. Broadly and generally it may be said that almost every kind of verse in English poetry requires, when read aloud, a rhythmical pause, or caesura, as it is termed by most writers on the subject, to be made in or near the middle of each line ; and the reader must take care always to observe this, or much of the distinctness and almost all the melody of the versification will be destroyed. It will cause as much pain to the cultivated ear to hear poetry read aloud without due observance of these rhythmical pauses, as it would distress the musician to hear a song sung, or a piece played, without the rests required in music being observed by the performer. Let me here give you a practical illustra- tion, which I hope will make clear my meaning and serve to impress it on your memories. I take the following eight lines from Pope, and I read it to you with no other pauses than those marked by the printer. Nature to all things fix'd the limits fit, And wisely curb'd proud man's pretending wit ; As on the land, while here the ocean gains. In other parts it leaves wide, sandy plains ; Thus in the soul, while memory prevails, The solid power of understanding fails ; Where beams of warm imagination play, The' memory's soft figures melt away. In such reading, is there not something wanting to complete the musical flow of the lines, some element absent, that if introduced, would have rendered the rhythm much more perceptible and satisfactory to the ear ? What then is that missing element ? It is the ccesura or rhythmical pause. If I had introduced this pause after the word t/migs in the first line ; after curfd in the second ; after land in the third ; after parts in the fourth ; and so on — the rhythmical flow of the lines would have been much more observable by the ear, and the aesthetic sense consequently much more satisfied. Let me now recite the passage to you, using the same inflections, modulation, poise, and emphasis as before, but now adding the proper rhythmical pauses at the places required by the laws of poetry. Nature to all things ^ fix'd the limits fit. And wisely curb'd — proud man's pretending wit ; As on the land — while here the ocean gains, In other parts — it leaves wide, sandy plains \ 270 AVA'-G'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. Thus in the soul — while memory prevails, The solid power of understanding — fails ; Where beams of warm imagination — • play, The memory's soft figures — melt away. I think it will be admitted by every one who has any sense of rhythm, that this delivery of the lines is more satisfactory to the ear and mind than the former. You will have noticed, I apprehend, that in all these lines save the three last, the principal rhylibmical pause occurred pretty nearly about the middle of each line. But in the three last lines, I was obliged by the laws which govern the division of a sentence, as laid down by the best authorities on the subject, to postpone introducing the principal pause until quite the latter part of the line. We may therefore say that though generally the most harmonious place for introducing the chief rhythmical pause is after the fourth syllable of the line, yet for the sake of expressing the sense strongly and fully, and sometimes even for the sake of variety, it may be placed at several other intervals. But besides this principal pause in the lines as I Just recited them, I dare say you noticed there were other pauses of shorter duration. These subordinate pauses, though not so essential to rhythm as the principal pause, yet according to our best writers on the prosody of our language, produce some of the greatest delicacies of rhythm in the reading aloud of poetry, and are an inexhaustible source of melody and variety in the composition of verse. To this kind of subordinate pause the name of the demi-cgesura has been given; and its judicious employ- ment depends essentially on the cultivated ear and good taste of the reader. Now comes a question on which authorities differ in their opinions. Should there be a rhythmical pause introduced at the end of every line in blank verse or rhymed poetry, whether required by the sense or not, when read aloud or recited ? Sheridan in his " Art of Reading," insists most strongly on the necessity of making a pause at the end of every line of poetr}', no matter if the sense does or does not demand its employment ; and this, he goes on to observe, is so essential, that with- out it we change verse into prose. In this view the renowned tragedian, David Garrick, Lord Kames, Dr. Johnson, and Bishop Lowth concurred, and, in my recollection, the delivery of blank verse on this principle was always adopted by Macready and Charles Kemble. Walker is opposed to it, though he says it is with great dififidence he expresses his opinion. I am disposed rather to concur with the first-named authorities, with the qualification that if not demanded by the sense at all, the pause should be of the shortest duration, and especial care must be taken in the delivery of the words immediately preceding it, that the right inflec- tion be employed. In concluding this part of my subject I give, for the practice of the student in rhetorical pauses, the rules laid down and the illustrations supplied by Mr. Ewing in his " Principles of Elocution." * * Simpkin & Marshall, London, 1839. Lect. XV. ] ON EL OCUTION. '27 1 RHETORICAL PAUSES. Rule I. — Pause after the nominative when it consists of more than one word.* EXAMPLES. 1. The fashion of this \vox\d passeth away. 2. To practise virtue is the sure way to love it. 3. The pleasures and honours of the world to come a?-e, in the stric- test sense of the word, everlasting. Mote I. — A pause may be made after a nominative, even when it consists of only one word, if it be a word of importance, or if we wish it to be particularly observed. EXAMPLES. 1. Adversity ?V the school of piety. 2. The fool hath said in his heart there is no God. A'oie 2. — When a sentence consists of a nominative and a verb, each expressed in a single word, no pause is necessary. EXAMPLES. 1. George learns. — 2. The boys read. — 3. The tree grows. — 4. He comes. Rule II. — [Fhen a?iy member comes betzveen the nominative case a7id the verb, it must be separated from both of them by a short pause. EXAMPLES. 1. Trials in this state of being are the lot of man. 2. Such is the constitution of men, that virtue however it may be neglected for a time will ultimately be acknowledged and respected. Rule III. — When any member comes betzveen the verb and the objective or accusative case, it must be separated from both of them by a short pause. example. I knew a person who possessed the faculty of distinguishing flavours in so great a perfection, that, after having tasted ten different kinds of tea, he would distinguish zvithout seeing the colour of it the particular sort which was offered him. Rule IV. — When two verbs come together, and the latter is in the infini- tive mood, if any words come between, they must be separated from the latter verb by a pause. example. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune ; Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them ? * The place of the pause is immediately before each of the words printed in italics. 272 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. Note. — When the verb/^ be is followed by a verb in the infinitive mood, which may serve as a nominative case to it, and the phrases before and after the verb may be transposed, then the pause falls between the verbs. EXAMPLE. The greatest misery is to be condemned by our own hearts. Rule V. — When smeral siibstatitives become the nominative to the same verb, a pause must be made between the last substantive and the verb, as well as after each of the other S2ibsta7itives. EXAMPLE. Riches, pleasure, and health become evils to those who do not know how to use them. Rule VI. — If there are several adjectives belonging to one substantive, or several substantives belonging to one adjective, every adjective corning after its substantive, and every adjective coming before the substa?itive except the last, must be separated by a short pause * EXAMPLES. 1. It was a calculation accurate to the last degree. 2. A behaviour active supple and polite, is necessary to succeed in life. 3. The idea of an eternal, uncaused Being, forces itself upon the reflecting mind. 4. Let but one brave, great, active, disinterested moin arise, and he will be received, followed, and venerated. Note. — This rule applies also to sentences in which several adverbs belong to one verb, or several verbs to one adverb. EXAMPLES. 1. To love wisely rationally fl«^ prudently, is, in the opinion of lovers, not to love at all. " _ 2. Wisely rationally and prudently to love, is, in the opinion of lovers, not to love at all. Rule VTI. — Whatever words are in the ablative absolute, must be separ- ated fro?n the rest by a short pause both before and after them. EXAMPLES. T. If a man borrow aught of his neighbour, and it be hurt or die the owner thereof not being with it he shall surely make it good. 2. God, from the mount of Sinai, whose grey top Shall tremble he descending will himself In thunder, lightnings, and loud tempests' sound Ordain them laws. * No pause is admitted between the substantive and the adjective in the inverted order, when the adjective is single, or unaccompanied by adjuncts. — Thus, in this line, — They guard with arms divine the British throne — The adjective divine cannot be separated by a pause from the sulistantive amis. Lect. XV.] ON ELOCUTION. 273 Rule VIII. — Nouns in apposition, or words ifi the same case, where the latter is only explanatory of the jorvier, have a short pause between the?n, either if both these noutis consist op many terms, or 'the latter only. EXAMPLES. 1. Hope, the balm of life, soothes us under every misfortune. 2. Solomon, the son of David and the builder of the temple of Jeru- salem, was the richest monarch that reigned over the Jewish people. Note. — If the two nouns are single, no pause is admitted ; as, Paul the apostle ; King George ; the Emperor Alexander. Rule IX. — When two substantives come together, and the latter, which is in the genitive case, consists of several words closely united with each other, a pause ts admissible between the two principal substantives. EXAMPLE. I do not know whether I am singular in my opinion, but, for my own part, I would rather look upon a tree in all its luxuriancy, and diffusion of boughs and branches, than when it is cut and trimmed into a mathe- matical figure. Rule X. — Who, which, when in the nominative case, and the pronoun that, when used for who or which, require a short pause before them. EXAMPLES. 1. Death is the season which brings our affections to the test. 2. Nothing is in vain that rouses the soul : nothing in vain that keeps the ethereal fire alive and glowing. 3. A man can never be obliged to submit to any power, unless he can be satisfied who is the person who has a right to exercise it. Note. — There are several words usually called adverbs, which include in them the power of the relative pronoun, and will therefore admit of a pause before them ; such as, when, why, wherefore, hotv, where, whether, whither, whence, while, till, or until: for zvhen is equivalent to the time at which ; why, or wherefore, is equivalent to the reason for which; and so of the rest. It must, however, be noted, that when a preposition comes before one of these relatives, the pause is before the preposition ; and that, if any of these words is the last word ol the sentence, or clause of a sentence, no pause is admitted before it : as, "I have read the book, of which I have heard so much commendation, but I know not tlie reason why. I have heard one of the books much commended, but I cannot tell which," &c. It must likewise be observed, that, if the substantive which governs the relative, and makes it assume the genitive case, comes before it, no pause is to be placed either before which, or the preposition that governs it. The passage of the Jordan is a figure of baptism, by the grace of which the new-born Christian passes from the slavery of sin into a state of freedom peculiar to the chosen sons of God. 274 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. Rule XI. — Pause before that, wheti it is used for a cotij unci ion. EXAMPLE. It is in society only that we can relish those pure delicious joys which embellish and gladden the life of man. Rule XTI. — When a pause is necessary at prepositions and conjunctions, it must be before and not after them. EXAMPLES. 1. We must not conform to the world iii their amusements and diversions. 2. There is an inseparable connection between piety and virtue. Note I. — When a clause comes between the conjunction and the woid to which it belongs, a pause may be made both before and after the conjunction. EXAMPLE. This let him know, Lest, wilfully transgres.'^ing, he pretend Surprisai. A^ote 2. — When a preposition enters into the composition of a verb, the pause comes after it. EXAMPLE. People expect in a small essay, that a point of humour should be worked up in all its parts, and a subject touched upon in its most essential articles, \\itliout the repetitions, tautologies, and enlargements that are indulged to longer labours. Rule XIII. — /// an elliptical sentence, pause where the ellipsis takes place. EXAMPLES. 1. To our faith we should add virtue; and to virtue knowledge ; and to knowledge temperance ; and to temperance /(7//-wvriv toO &p(ppu.Trov Kal ^owvos, " £701, ArnxocdeveSy oiiSiv viirovda ;" — "Ntj, Ai'a {(pavai) vvv clkovo] T]i> ddiKovfxevov /cat ireTrov66Tos.^' 'OvTUS ijieTo p^eya. irpbs irLcmv ehai rbv tovov Kal rr]v viroKpLdiv tQ}V XeybvTOiv. — Plutarch, in Vila Demosthenis. 278 ICING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. oi desire of virtue, it is well known that his reason is frequently per- verted by the baser passions ; therefore, as the citizen might possibly have been an obscure individual, Demosthenes was at full liberty to suppose, by the coolness and indifference of his manner, that he was actuated by some more violent motive than a sense of moral good. But when the orator intimated his disbelief of the fact, Plutarch informs us, that the citizen immediately expressed himself with the utmost emotion, which proves to us, beyond all controversy, that, as it is through the medium of the external senses the mind receives its primary impressions, so the pleasure or aversion occasioned by them, and retained by the memory or mind, should actuate the expression of consciousness or mental feeling. " I not harshly used ! I not ill-treated ! " " Nay, now," says Demosthenes, " I begin to believe you — that is the form, that the language of an injured man, I acknowledge the justice of your cause, and will be your advocate." We perceive the earnestness of the Athenian citizen was excited by the feeling of pride ; and this probably brought the circumstance of the cruelty more strongly before his mind ; his veracity was disputed, and he replied to the orator in a feeling manner, agitated by anger, i.e., an imitation of that expression, which was imme- diately caused by the cruelty of the transaction, strongly tinctured with the passion of indignation. As with the first orator of Greece, so with the first orator of Rome, for Plutarch also tells us that Cicero, at first, was, like Demosthenes, very defective in delivery and action, and therefore diligently availed himself of the instructions of the two great actors, Roscius and yEsopus. We shall find the object of this illustration shown more at length by the Roman orator. Calidius is represented by Cicero to have had great suavity of manners. No one knew better how to charm the attention of his audience, or more perfectly understood his subject. " He had not a single expression which was either harsh, unnatural, or far-fetched." His sentences were round and swelling, his action was graceful and agreeable, and his whole manner very engaging and very sensible. But the illustrious Roman insists that it is the business of the orator, not only to instruct and please, but also to prove and to inflame the passions ; Calidius, he observes, was perfectly master of the first and second, but entirely destitute of the third, which, he adds, is of much greater effi- cacy than the other two. " He had no force, no exertion." Cicero, however, candidly relates the following : — " I perfectly remember, that when Calidius prosecuted Q. Gallius for an attempt to poison him, and pretended that he had the plainest proofs of it, and could produce many letters, witnesses, informations, and other evidences to put the truth of his charge beyond a doubt, interspersing many sensible and ingenious remarks on the nature of the crime ; I remember," says Cicero, " that when it came to my turn to reply to him, alter urging every argument which the case itself suggested, 1 insisted upon it as a material circum- stance in favour of my client, that the prosecutor, while he charged him with a design against his life, and assured us that he had the most in- dubitable proofs of it then in his hands, related his story with as much ease, and as much calmness and indifference, as if nothing had hap- lect. XV.] ON elocution: 279 pened." "Would it have been possible," exclaimed Cicero (addressing himself to Calidius), "that you should speak with this air of unconcern unless the charge was purely an invention of your own ? — and, above all, that you, whose eloquence has often vindicated the wrongs of other people with so much spirit, should speak so coolly of a crime which threatened your life ? Where was that expression of resentment which is so natural to the injured ? Where that ardour, that eagerness, which extorts the most pathetic language even from men of the dullest capa- cities ? There was no visible disorder in your mind, there was no emotion in your looks and gesture. You were, therefore, so far from interesting our passions in your favour, that we could scarcely keep our eyes open, while you were relating the dangers you had so narrowly escaped." In this manner did Cicero employ the natural defect, or what he believed to be a defect of nature (lor he had before said that Calidius "had no force, no exertion"), as an argument to invalidate his charge ; and thus have I endeavoured to show that orators, readers, and speakers, who do not deliver their sentiments with appropriate feeling and earnest- ness, are liable not only to have their arguments confuted, but also to have their characters branded with insincerity, vice, and falsehood. This conclusion is naturally suggested to the discreeter part of an audience, and the narrow-minded, unthinking, and ignorant do not feel their attention sufficiently excited to enable them to remember, even with common interest, that which was advanced for their most serious con- sideration. As students in oratory, we should be reminded, that we must never cease to avail ourselves of information— that we must observe, read, converse, and meditate. The speaker must not only acquire thejustest conception of the things which he presumes to utter, but he must know how to communicate them in their proper order ; they must be clothed in the most agreeable, as well as the most forcible, language. The speaker must avoid redundancy of expression ; he must be neither too close nor too diffuse ; and, above all, he must perfect himself in that branch of oratory, which has been pronounced to form the first, second, and third part of the science — Elocution. This will enable him, at all times, to command attention ; its operation will be electric : it will strike from heart to heart ; and he must be a mere declaimer, who does not feel himself inspirited by the fostering meedof such approbation, — mute attention ; and returns his sentiments with a sympathetic feeling, energy, and pathos. In Lord Bacon's great work on the " Advancement of Learning," you will also find some very interesting and remarkable narratives of the power of good delivery, and appropriate action and expression. But it is needless to multiply our illustrations under this head further, and I proceed therefore to give such general directions in reference to attitude, expression, and gesture, as I trust may be of some practical service to the novice in public speaking. At first, then, when called on to address a public assembly, the speaker should not, the moment he is on his legs, begin without any 2$o KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. pause or preparation to pour forth his thoughts in words, because if he does this he will be very apt to get out of breath, lose self-possession, and become embarrassed. But I would suggest that on rising he should place himself in the best position alike for ease, grace, and freedom of action, the weight of the body being poised on the ball of one foot, the other being either slightly in advance or behind, and in all changes of position that foot should be moved first on which the weight of the body is not supported. Of course dramatic action permits a much more extended motion of the lower limbs than would be fitting elsewhere, but in the case of the preacher, barrister, lecturer, or public speaker, about one square yard is the limit within which he has to move, though in the case of the two last-named, there appears to be a growing custom to allow them a wider range for movement than was the case twenty years ago. The head should be held erect, but still in a perfectly free and natural position ; nothing stiff or rigid should be seen either in the position of the head or neck. The latter must not be in any degree bent down or lean forward too much, so as to cause the chin to protrude, for this though a common, is a very ungraceful position, especially if the speaker leans with his hands on the railings of the platform (as some men often do) ; and such an awkward attitude not only greatly impairs the general expression of the countenance, but most materially injures the tone and power of the voice, as well as the general freedom of delivery. The chest should be well expanded, and the shoulders thrown back, but still carefully avoiding all appearance of stiffness or formality, and so the lungs will be able to be easily but yet thoroughly inflated, and perform all their important functions without any sort of restraint or hindrance. Then let the speaker or reader endeavour calmly to survey the audience he has to address, and quietly, noiselessly, but thoroughly inflate his lungs by a full inspiration performed in the manner I have so fully explained in the early portion of these lectures. The lungs being thus well sup- plied with air at the beginning can easily be kept so afterwards by com- paratively slight inspirations, taken steadily and systematically at all the proper pauses at the different clauses of the sentence, and the full stop which closes the sentence always allows the speaker or reader oppor- tunity and ample time for completely recruiting his lungs with air. All these suggestions, though they may seem minute and formal, will yet, when carried out properly, contribute greatly to give personal ease and self-possession to the novice in public speaking and reading. The countenance is the primary seat of all expression, and in the changes seen in the forehead, eyebrows, eyes, and lips, all the passions and emotions of the soul may be successively seen as in a mirror. For these to be wholly without expression is enough to destroy almost all the power of the most earnest, vigorous, and impassioned language, so far as the mere words are concerned, and there should always be appropriate harmony in the expression of face, gesture, and language. But it is here perhaps, more than in anything, that discretion must be our tutor, and teach us to shun violence of action, and exuberance of gesture and expression of countenance, on the one hand, and tame, cold, motionless demeanour, and stolid, changeless face on the other. Due regard must LecT. XV.] ON ELOCUTION. 281 always be had to the size of the place in which we are speaking, the character of our audience, the nature of our subject, and the language we have to utter ; and these being borne in mind, our chief instructors must be sound judgment and good taste in these and kindred matters. As you proceed with your speech, and warm with your progress in it, there will doubtless occur some word or clause which you desire to make emphatic, and you will almost instinctively use some action of the arm and hand to enforce it on the attention of your audience. Now avoid all narrow, awkward actions, proceeding only from the elbows. Remember that the arms should always perform their chief motions from the shoulders, the elbows by a gentle bend contributing to the prin- cipal action. Grace depends on freedom and ease of movement, and the curve which the hand usually describes in action, depends, as regards its latitude of motion, very much on the character of the language that is being uttered. If very earnest, passionate, or dignified in character, the action of the arm or hand should be free and waving in the ampli- tude of the curve it takes, but avoid, if possible, all mere violent angular action. Of course, in quieter passages the curves of the arm and hand are naturally very much less in extent. It is in elevated, declamatory, and poetical passages, that the language is best accompanied by extended motions ; in ordinary discourse, simple and easy transitions are alone appropriate. A chapter almost might be written on the use of the hands in ora- tory. The ancient rhetoricians placed the highest value on the service afforded by the hands in aiding the effect of public speaking, and seem to have used them in a much gieater degree than we in our country at the present time are wont to do. Quinctilian, in writing on this part of our subject, says : — " It is a difficult matter to say what number and variety of motions the hands have, without which all action would be imperfect and maimed, since these motions are almost as various as the words we speak. For the other parts of the body may be said to help a man when he speaks, but the hands, if I may so express myself, speak themselves. Do we not by the hands desire a thing ? Do we not by the hands promise, call, dismiss, threaten, act the suppliant, express our abhorrence or fear? By the hands do we not interrogate, deny, show our grief, joy, doubt, confession, penitence, &c. ? Do not these same hands provoke, forbid, entreat, approve, admire, and express shame ? Do they not in pointing out localities and persons supply the very place often of nouns, pronouns, and adverbs, insomuch that amid all the number and diversity of tongues upon the earth, this infinite use of the hands seems to remain the universal language common to all ? " Although, as I have said before, the hands should in all graceful motion describe waving lines or curves, yet in energetic actions they very often are, and to a considerable extent may be straightened. It will be found that natural impulse almost always makes, and properly makes, the termination of the motion of the hand on the emphatic word or syllable, and this by a kind of stroke or beat, proceeding mainly from the wrist, wliich, varying in power and degree with the character of the 282 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XV. language employed, and the personal energy and temperament of the speaker, not only perfects and determines the action, but will be found to increase materially the due weight or percussion of the voice. It must be remembered that the right hand is essentially the hand of action, and that the left hand is almost always used in mere subordination to the right. The late well-known writer and teacher of elocution, Mr. B. H. Smart, was accustomed in his instruction to pupils to group all gesture under four heads, which he classified under the names of — I. Emphatic; II. Referential; III. Impassioned; IV. Imitative. Of these four groups what is meant by emphatic action is sufficiently explained by the term. " Referential Gesture is of frequent occurrence. By it the speaker calls attention to what is actually present, or to what is imagined for the moment to be present, or to the direction, real, or for the moment conceived, in which anything has happened, or may happen. When Lord Chatham speaks of the figure in the tapestry frowning on a degene- rate representative of his race, he refers to the place by correspondent action. When Canute is described ordering his chair to be placed on the shore, the narrator, by action, fixes attention to some particular spot, as if the sea were really present. When a picture of any kind is to be exhibited to the mental view, the speaker will convey a lively impres- sion in proportion as he himself conceives it clearly, and by action refers consistently to its different parts, as if the scene were before the eyes of his auditors. " Of Impassioned Gesture it may be observed in this place, that, though all gesture of this kind ought to be the effect of natural impulse, yet the assumption of the outward signs of expression is one of the means of rousing in the speaker the real feeling. This consideration, and this alone, can justify any perceptive directions where nature seems to offer herself as sole instructor. " Imitative Gesture often takes place with good effect in speaking, particularly in narration or description of a comic kind. To use it in serious description would generally be to burlesque the subject ; though even here, if sparingly and gracefully introduced, it is not always mis- placed. For instance, in Collins' ' Ode on the Passions,' the narrator may use imitative action when he tells us that — *' ' Fear his hand its skill to try Amid the chords bewildered laid, And back recoiled : ' and that " ' Anser rushed- In one rude clash he struck the lyre, And swept with hurried hands the strings : * and so, throughout the ode, wherever imitative action is possible without extravagance. " Of gesture thus discriminated, it will not be difficult to determine the species which this or that department of speaking calls most into play. The pulpit, for instance, hardly admits of other than emphatic i Lect. XV.] ON ELOCUTION. 283 gesture, seldom of referential, not very often of impassioned, never oi imitative. The senate and the bar may more frequently admit of refe- rential and impassioned gesture, very seldom of imitative. It is only the stage that makes full use of gesture drawn from all the four sources that have been indicated. Yet the practice of i\\e pupil, whatever may be his destined profession, ought not to be confined only to one or two of these species of gesture. For, in order to bring forth the powers of intellect and sensibility, a wide range of subjects must be chosen ; and in all these, his business will be, to ' suit the action to the word, the word to the action.'" Some remarks in reference to the use of the arms and hands in speaking, fell from the lips of our present Prime Minister, the Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, last year at a literary and artistic dinner, which are well worth consideration. He was regarding voice and gesture from an aesthetic point of view, and in reference to the latter, said : — " You know very well that, as far as Englishmen in general are concerned, when engaged in argument, even in invective and decla- mation, they make no use of their hands and arms. You would think they might as well be cut off, as being really superfluous appen- dages. I remember reading — and it is always very desirable to read books that foreigners write about us ; depend upon it, it is the way to know ourselves — a book written about forty years ago by an Italian gentleman named Count Pecchio, recounti.ig his experiences in England; and on visiting the chief people in London he says that he found their drawing-rooms not only well furnished, but overcrowded with all kinds of nick-nacks and bijouterie QdisWy liable to fracture. Being of a philoso- phic turn, that gentleman began to connect in his mind causes and effects, and he said, 'I now see the reason why the English people never gesticulate. If they did, the whole of these beautilul objects — their china, their Venetian glass, all the interesting but fragile arti- cles with which their rooms are complete — would come to grief I am not afraid that we should depart from our respective national qualities, and it would be a great misfortune that we should do so, but with the modern and innocent tendency to cosmopolitan fasiiions, it may be that the Englishman will begin to unglue a little, and that the idea will gradually find its way into his mind that Nature gave him arms and hands, not merely for the purpose of digging the earth, or navigating the sea, but likewise for purposes in connection with the higher operations of the mind in giving effective and graceful expression to his thoughts and feelings." I shall enter more fully in my next Lecture into the subject of the Expression of the Emotions by countenance and gesture, and examine their influence in the portrayal of the various passions and feelings of human nature in detail. It is a subject well deserving our attentive con- sideration, when it is remembered that intonation, inflection, modulation, and all the other elements that combined give true vocal expression fail, however perfect they may be, to give delivery its full effect, if the countenance, and indeed the whole body, do not sympathise and express in harmony all those passions and feelings which are manifested in the I 284 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. [Lect. XV. tones of tlie voice. Nothing can be more at variance with nature, and destructive of all effect, than for an orator to maintain a rigid stillness and an unvarying countenance. Indeed, where there exists anything like imagination and warmth of natural feeling, it will be seen that the tendency to manifest emotion is so spontaneous, alike as regards the play of countenance and gesticulation, that the aid of any instruction will more likely be required to chasten and subdue than to stimulate the manifestation of the emotion by gesture and facial expression. In the order of nature, as we see in the case of uncivilised races, and in the children of all races, civilised as well as uncivilised, we shall, I think, invariably find that in the manifestation of any passion or emotion it is first indicated in the expression of the countenance, then by gestures, and, last of all, by articulate speech. In calmer feelings, and in the expression of the milder sentiments, I have noticed that in general gesture does not precede but accompanies language. Dr. Erasmus Darwin, in his " Temple of Nature," notices the manifestation of the emotions by external signs in the following verses : — " When strong desires or soft sensations move The astonish'd intellect to rage or love. Associate tribes of fibrous motions rise. Flush the red cheek or light the laughing eyes. Whence ever-active imitation finds Th' ideal trains that pass through kindred minds ; Her mimic acts associate thoughts excite, And the first language enters at the sight. Association's mystic power combines Internal passion with external signs ; From these dumb gestures first th' exchange began Of viewless thought in bird, and beast, and man : And still the stage by mimic art displa) s Historic pantomime in modern days ; And hence the enthusiast orator affords Force to the feebler eloquence of words." LECTURE XVI. The Expression of the Emotions by the Human Countenance — Quinctiliin's remarks on the Head and Face generally — Diagrams of tlie Muscles of the Face from Sir Charles Bell's work and Henle's "Anatomic des Menschen " — The Forehead — The Eyes — Remarks of Dr. Austin — Buffon's description of the Eyes and their Power of Expression — Engel's Views on this Subject — Delsarte's opinions in regard to the Eyes — Letter from Mr. Darwin on the question — The Eyebrows and Eyelids as Adjuncts in Expression — Quinctilian's Oljservations — The Nostrils — The Mouth and Lips — Quotation from Buffon and Dr. Austin — The Functions of the Mouth and Lips in the Expression of the Emotions. N this Lecture I propose entering into an examination at some length of those different features of the human countenance which express so vividly the various passions and emotions of human nature. The authorities I have consulted have been many, but I am chiefly indebted for the results I shall present you with this evening to Dr. Gilbert Austin's " Chironomia," Sir Charles Bell's " Anatomy and Philosophy of Expression," Moreau's edition of " Lavater on Physiognomy," the last edition of the Abbe Thibout's admirable work, entitled, "Action Oratoire," and Mr. Charles Darwin's most deeply interesting book " On the Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals." As regards the head and face generally, no better remarks can be offered than those made by Quinctilian, who says : " As the head gives the crowning grace to the whole body, so does it principally contribute to the expression of grace in delivery. It should be held in an erect and natural position. For when hung down it expresses humility, when thrown backwards arrogance, when inclined to either side languor, and'^ when stiff and rigid it exhibits a want of polish and refinement. Its movements should be suited to the character of the delivery, and be in harmony with the actions of the hands and the movements of the body. The eyes are in general directed to the quarter to which gesture points, except when we have occasion to condemn, to refuse, or to require any object to be removed; on which occasions we should at the same moment express aversion in the countenance and reject by the gesture, as in these lines, 'Banish, ye gods, this monster from the earth.' "I hold myself not worthy of such honour." 286 AVA^G'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVI. D-1 Fig. I. — Diagram of the muscles of the face from Sir C. Bell. Fig. 2. — Diagram from Ilenle. A Occipito frontalis, or frontal muscle. B Corrugator supercilii, or corrugator muscle. C Orbicularis palpebrarum, or orbicular muscles of the eyes. D Pyramidalis nasi, or pyramidal muscle of the nose. E Levator labii superioris alteque nasi. 3. — Diagram from Henle. F Levator labii proprius. G Zygomatic muscle. H ]Mal:uis muscle. I Little zygomatic muscle. K Triangularis oris, or depressor anguli oris. L Quadratus nienti. M Risorius, part of the Platysma myoides. Lect. XVL] on elocution. 287 The head alone is capable of many expressive movements ; for besides those inclinations of it which show assent or rejection, approval or disapproval, there are other well-known motions known to humanity which indicate modesty, doubt, admiration, or indignation. But to use a motion of the head alone, unaccompanied by any other gesture, is considered ungraceful in action.* Let us now direct our attention to the countenance generally. Plato says most truly that in the head and countenance may be seen the whole man. And this we feel instinctively to be true, and there are few countenances by which we are not more or less attracted or repelled, even at the first glance. It is in the human face that the passions and emotions of the soul may most vividly be read. The language that is written there, is one that is understood by all countries and all races of mankind, and speaks often with a power that equals even if it does not surpass, that of voice and speech. Let us take this subject analytically first, and consider the different parts of the countenance that are the chief seats of emotional expression. The excellent diagrams (see opposite page), showing the muscles of the face, are taken from Sir Charles Bell's celebrated work and Henle's " Anatomic des Menschen ; " and for the use of them here, I am indebted to the courtesy of Mr. Darwin. Nothing contributes more to the general nobility of the countenance and expression of intelligence than an ample and well-developed fore- head. The frontal muscle {occipito frontalis) with which it is provided is a powerful instrument of action in the wrinkling of the forehead ; but as far as I can judge never acts alone, but always in conjunction with the corrtigator muscles of the eyebrows. Next in order I take the eyes and their powerful adjuncts in expression — the eyebrows and eyelids. The remarks of Dr. Gilbert Austin in the third chapter of his ' Chironomia,' in reference to the power of the eyes in commanding the attention of an audience, are well worthy of being quoted here. " As the principal object of every public speaker," he says, "must be to obtain the attention of his audience, so every cir cumstance which can contribute to this end, must be considered most important. In the external demeanour nothing will be found so effectually to attract attention and to detain it, as the direction of the eyes. It is well known that the eyes can influence persons at a distance ; and that they can select from a multitude a single individual and turn their looks on him, though many lie in the same direction. The whole person seems to be affected in some measure by this influence of another's eyes ; but the eyes themselves feel it with the most lively sensibility. It is in the power of a public speaker to obtain the attention of any indi- vidual by turning his eyes upon him, though the matter of his discourse may not be particularly addressed or relating to that person. But if he direct his looks into the eyes of any one of his audience, he holds his attention irresistibly fixed. We seem to have the power, as it were, of touching each other by the sense of sight, and to be endued with some- thing of that fascination of the eye, which is attributed toother animals, * Quinct., lib. xi. c. 3. 288 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVI. and which the serpent is particularly said to possess. Not only is every one conscious when he is looked ui)on himself, but he even perceives when others are looked upon. The line of tlie direction of the axis of the eye, however invisible or imaginary, seems in effect as if it could be seen, and that in every instance throughout a great assembly, crossing and radiating in a thousand directions from the centre of every orb of sight. However these circumstances may be accounted for, the public speaker will judiciously take care to avail himself of them in a proper manner. He will therefore turn his eyes upon the eyes of his audience, and in the more important and earnest passages will seem to look, as it were, into the very pupils of their eyes.* The foregoing passage is as applicable to the art of Public Reading as that of Public Speaking. For if a reader keeps his eyes fixed upon the pase the whole time he is reading aloud, he loses one-half the effect he would otherwise produce, to say nothing of the waste of power caused by so much of the vocal wave of sound falling direct upon the page he is reading, and so being thrown back upon himself, instead of travelling on in a series of successive undulations and reaching properly the auditory nerves of his hearers. For one who has to read aloud, the art cannot too soon be acquired of training the eye to gather at a glance the words in each clause, and then successively pronouncing them with the head held easily erect and the eyes directed towards the reader's audience. Another remark of Dr. Austin is also worthy of notice. "If it be surprising," he says, "that the direction of the axis of vision (as it may be called) of every eye is capable of being traced by any observer as accurately as if a radiant and visible line were drawn from each ; not less surprising is the power of judging by the expression of another's eye when it is that it exercises no. speculation, even though the axis be in the direction of a particular object. This singular expression may be termed bending the eye on vacancy ; in which case distinct vision is not intended, but the focus falls short of the objects in the line of the axis of the eye. Persons in deep thought often look in this manner with their eyes perfectly open, directed towards some objects and yet manifestly not seeing them ; but void of speculation, as those who walk in their sleep. Of this expression every beholder is sensible ; it gives the appearance of abstracted meditation and inward retirement. The short-sighted eye, however near to the description, is easily distinguished from the eye bent on vacancy. In the vacant eye the peculiar expression is observed; in the short-sighted eye the peculiar conformation.! No writer has described more eloquently and poetically the power of the human cpuntenance to express emotions, and especially of the eyes, than the great French naturalist, Buffon. He says, in language as truth- ful as it is beautiful : — " Lorsque I'ame est tranquille, toutes les parties du visage sont dans un ^tat de repos ; leur proportion, leur union, leur ensemble, mar- quent encore assez la douce harmonie des pensdes, et re'pondent au * Austin's Chironomia, pp. 103-4. t Ibid., pp. 105-6. Lect. XVI.] ON ELOCUTION. 289 calme de I'interieure ; mais lorsque lame est agitee, la face humaine deviant un tableau vivant, ou les passions sont rendues avec autant de delicatesse que d'energie, ou chaque mouvement de I'ame est exprime par un trait, chaque action par un caractere, dont I'expression vive et prompte devance la volonte, nous decele et rend au dehors par des signes path^tiques les images de nos secretes agitations. Mais c'est surtout dans les yeux qu'elles se peignent et qu'on peut les reconnaitre ; I'oeil appartient a I'ame plus qu'aucune autre organe ; il semble y toucher et participer a tous ses mouvements; il en exprime les passions les plus vives et les emotions les plus tumultueuses, comme les mouvements les plus doux et les sentiments les plus delicats ; il les rend dans toute leur force, dans toute leur purete tels qu'ils viennent de naitre ; il les transmet par des traits rapides que portent dans un autre ame le feu, Taction, i'image de celle dont ils partent ; I'oeil regoit et reflechit en meme temps la lumiere de la pensee et la chaleur du sentiment, c'est le sens de I'esprit et la langue de I'intelligence." Dr. Austin, too, in his "Chironomia," justly remarks (pp. 106, T07) that, " as much of the mind is discovered by the countenance, and par- ticularly through the windows of the eyes, so all men examine the countenance and look into the eyes of those from whom they have any expectations, or with whom they are to have any important intercourse or dealings. Nay, the very domestic animals learn thus to read the human countenance, and the dog is found to look for his surest and most intelligible instructions into his master's eyes. To look fairly in the face, or rather into the eyes 6f those who are objects of respect, bespeaks, in youth especially, a candid and ingenuous mind ; as on the contrary an habitual cast-down look, as it is commonly called, and averted or unsteady eyes, are universally understood to indicate the opposite character. The reserve and dark consciousness of an unworthy heart do not willingly expose themselves to be penetrated by the beam of a searching eye. But this is altogether different from the occasional down- cast bashfulness of modesty, which as soon as it is encouraged to look up becomes enlightened with candour and intelligence. The remarks of an eminent writer of the eighteenth century, M. Engel, who published a learned and elaborate work on the subject, entitled " Idees sur le geste," in the form of a series of letters, says in his sixth letter : — " L'ame parle le plus souvent, et de la maniere la plus facile et la plus claire par les parties dont les muscles sont les plus mobiles ; dent elle s'expliquera le plus souvent par les traits du visage et principalement des yeux ; mais ce ne sera que rarement qu'elle emploiera les change- ments dans les attitudes caracterisques de tout le corps. La premiere espece de ces expressions, savoir celles des yeux, s'opere avec tant de facilite et si spontanement en ne laissant, pour ainsi dire, aucune inter- valle entre le sentiment et son effet, que le sangfroid le plus refle'chi et Tart le plus exerce a masquer les pense'es les plus secretes, n'en pou- vent pas arreter I'explosion, quoiqu'ils maitrisent tout le reste du corps. L'homme qui veut cacher les affections de son ame, doit surtout prendre X 290 KJNG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVF. garde de ne pas se laisser fixer dans les yeux ; il ne doit pas moins veiller avec soin sur les muscles qui avoisinent la bouche, qui lors des certains mouvemens interieures se maitrisent tres difficilement. ' Si les hommes,' dit Leibnitz, ' voulaient examiner davantage avec un veritable esprit observateur les signes exterieures de leurs passions, le talent de se contrefaire deviendrait un art moins facile.' ' Cependant I'ame con- serve toujours quelque pouvoir sur les muscles ; mais elle n'en a aucun sur le sang,' dit Descartes ; et par cette raison la rougeur ou la paleur subite dependent peu ou presque point de notre volonte." It is right, however, that I should mention that the late most eminent teacher of the art of Dramatic Elocution in Paris, Francois Delsarte, who died about five years ago, and whose pupil, Rachel, was perhaps the highest type of his school on the stage of France, as Macready was on the stage of England, always contended that the eyes themselves, apart from the other features, did not express the emotions, but only indicate the objects that excite the emotions. He says : " Cover the lower part of the face with your hand, and impart to your look all the energy of which it is susceptible, and it will be impossible for the most sagacious observer to discover whether your look expresses anger or attention. On the other hand, uncover the lower part of the face, and if the nostrils are dilated, if the contracted lips are drawn up, there is no doubt that anger is written on the countenance. An observation which confirms the purely indicative part performed by the eye is, that among raving madmen, the lower part of the face is violently contracted, while the vague and uncertain look shows clearly that their fury has no object." Now, the opinion of such an accomplished instructor, and one who could number among his pupils not only such artistes as Rachel and Macready, but the gifted Sontag, Madeleine Brohan, Barbot, Pasea, and others of eminence on the French stage ; and among the orators of the French pulpit, such men as Pere Lacordaire, Pere Hyacinthe, and other celebrated preachers, is undoubtedly entitled to liigh respect. But I cannot think here that Delsarte is altogether right. Undoubtedly the eyelids, eyebrows, and mouth are most powerful adjuncts in the expres- sion of the emotions ; but I am certainly disposed, from the observations I have made, to come to the conclusion that the eyes themselves do grow bright or dull under the influence of certain emotions, that they do sparkle in mirth or melt in pity. On this point I was anxious to obtain the opinion of so distinguished a naturalist and so careful and accurate an observer as Mr. Darwin, and I accordingly wrote to him on the sub- ject, saying that I ventured to differ from Delsarte, and should like much to know whether Mr. Darwin's views on this point were in accord- ance with mine or not. In compliance with my request, Mr. Darwin favoured me at oace with an answer, which I give in his own words : — " Down, Beckenham, Kent. " My Dear Sir, — I thank you for your very obliging letter, and for the information in regard to Delsarte's views respecting the eyes. Although it is very easy to deceive one's self on such a point, yet after reading over Lect. XVI.] ON ELOCUTION. 291 what I have said, I cannot think that we are in error. Surely the different appearance of the eyes in hectic fever, and during great exhaustion to which Dr. Piderit alludes, cannot be accounted for simply by the posi- tion of eyelids and eyebrows. Could you not observe the eyes of some one looking grave, and then smiling ? I will endeavour to do so. " I remain, my dear Sir, "August 19th. "Yours faithfully, " C. J. Plumptre, Esq. " Charles Darwin." I am very glad to find that the opinion I had formed is confirmed by so eminent an authority as Mr. Darwin.* Extended observation will, I think, further confirm the fact that the eyes themselves, apart from the adjuncts of any other features, do in themselves vary in brightness and expression under the influences of various emotions. In the recently published volume of the " Life of the Eminent Tragedian, Charles Young," by his son, the Rev. Julian Young, the author, speaking per- sonally of what he had noticed in the great actor, Edmund Kean, says : "When kindled by real passion off the stage, or by simulated passion on it, his eye gleamed with such scorching lustre as to make those who stood beneath its rays quail." Sir Walter Scott, in the accounts he gives to Lockhart of his interview with Burns, says : " There was a strong expression of sense and shrewd- ness in all his lineaments ; the eye alone, I think, indicated the poetical character and temperament. It was large and of a dark cast, which ■ glowed (I say litej-aUy glowed) when he spoke with feeling or interest. I never saw such another eye in a human head, although I have seen the most distinguished men of my time.f In Meister's account of Diderot, contained in the 13th volume of Grimm's " Correspondance Litte'raire," I find it stated that " Diderot's eyes were habitually kindly and sympathetic in expression ; but as he grew excited in conversation, they literally sparkled like fire." Many more similar instances might be given in support of the opinion I hold, that the eyes in themselves have the power of growing bright or becoming dull under the influence of different emotions. Addison in " The Spec- tator" for June 8, 171 1 (No. 86), says, " I have seen an eye curse for half- an-hour together, and an eyebrow call a man a scoundrel." And again, "The Spectator" for November 26, 1712 (No. 541), says, "But the fact is, the face is the epitome of the whole man, and the eyes are the epitome of the face." No, 250 of the same journal for December 17, 171 1, has also a very amusing paper on the eyes. % It appears to me, then, in regard to the expression of the various emotions, we are warranted in saying that the eyes sparkle, and, as it were, dance in mirth ; that they beam with a tender light in love and * Since this letter was written, now more than four years ago, Mr, Darwin has favoured me with another communication, stating that further observation has in no way altered his opinion. + Life of Burns by Principal Shairp, pp. 50, ^1. X In Mr. R. Brudenell Carter's excellent work "On Good and Bad Eyesight" (London, Macmillan), just published, will be found some very interesting remarl^s on the emotions that cause the eyes to grow bright or dull in appearance. 292 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVI. affection ; that they blaze and seem to flash fire in rage ; tliat tliey melt in grief and pity ; that they are raised up in joy, hope, and supplication ; that they are cast down in gloom, despondency, and shame ; that in the expression of scorn and contempt, they appear to measure their object from head to foot; that they are widely opened, and stare more or less in amazement, wonder, and surprise ; that they are protruded in horror ; are restless in anxiety; are fixed and resolute in confidence, courage, and secrecy ; and seem cast on vacancy in abstract thought. The muscles which perform these varied functions are the orbicular muscles. (See diagrams.) The eyebrows and eyelids are most important adjuncts to the expres- siveness of the eyes. The eyebrows are elevated in amazement, joy, and hope ; they are depressed in grief, despair, and authority ; they are knitted together and produce the frown of anger and the other sterner passions, and seem to droop in weakness and dejection. The muscles which control these actions are the corrugator and orbicular muscles. (See diagrams.) What Quinctilian says on these points is as truthful as it is eloquent. He states, in the third chapter of his eleventh book, as follows : — "In order to bring about all the various expressions of the eyes, the eyelids and the cheeks lend assistance by their auxiliary service, and the eye- brows also contribute greatly. For they give the form to the eyes in a certain degree, and altogether control the forehead. By them the forehead is contracted, raised, or lowered ; and accordingly as any cir- cumstance particularly affects the mind, the blood which is affected in its movement by the emotions, when it reaches the skin, delicate with modesty, is diffused in blushes ; and when it suddenly retires through fear, it entirely forsakes the forehead, which it leaves pale and cold. When the blood is temperate, the forehead appears like the serene sky. It is a fault in the eyebrows either to be altogether immovable or to move too much, or to be at variance by being unequally raised, or to be in any manner different from what we have mentioned. For anger is manifested by the contraction of the brows, sorrow by their depression, and cheerfulness by their relaxation." The nostrils play comparatively a subordina.te part in the expression of the emotions. When we are calm and composed they are relaxed, but become rigid in violent passion, in which condition also, the Abbe Dubroca says, he has observed that the ahz of the nostrils become swollen and are greatly distended. In disgust, scorn, and contempt the nostrils are drawn up, and (according to Quinctilian) in the mani- festation of pride and haughtiness. The muscles which act upon them are those of the pyramidalis nasi and the levator labii superioris alccque fiasi. The cheeks contribute to expression chiefly by their becoming more or less flushed or pale under the influence of certain emotions. Last of all we come to the mouth and lip, which, as organs of expres- sion, are as important, even if not more important, than the eyes them- selves. The mouth indeed may well excite our deepest interest and attention, whether on account of the variety and precision of its action, or the language and tones which issue from it, or the general impression I Lect. XVI.] ON ELOCUTION. 293 which its shape and character make upon the beholder. The descrip- tion which Buffon gives of the mouth and lips may well be cited here, for it is as eloquent as it is true : — " La bouche et les levres sont, apres les yeux, les parties du visage qui ont le plus de mouvement et d'expres- sion ; les passions influent sur ces mouvemens ; la bouche en marque les differens caracteres par les diffe'rentes formes qu'elle prend: I'organe de la voix anime encore cette partie et la rend plus vivante que tous les autres ; la couleur vermeille des levres, la blancheur de I'email des dents, tranchent avec tant d'avantage sur les autres couleurs du visage qu'elles paraissent en faire le point de vue principal : on fixe en effet les yeux sur la bouche d'un homme qui parle, et on les y arrete plus longtemps que sur toutes les autres parties. Chaque mot, chaque articulation, chaque son produisent des mouvemens differents dans les levres. Quel- ques varie'es et quelques rapides que soient ces mouvemens, on pourrait les distinguer tous les uns des autres. On a vu des sourds en connaitre si parfaitement les differences et les nuances successives, qu'ils enten- daient ce qu'on disait en voyant comme on le disait."* Dr. Austin well remarks that it is more important to attend to the mouth than even to the eyes themselves. " The eyes," he says, " can at all times assume the character suited to the expression of the moment. But the mouth being one of the softest features is soonest changed, and if it once loses its character of sweetness, it changes perhaps for ever. How few mouths which have been beautiful in youth (that season of happiness and smiles) preserve that character beyond youth ; whilst the eyes are often found to retain their lustre, or to flash occasionally with their early brightness even in advanced life. Every bad habit defaces the soft beauty of the mouth, and leaves indelible on it the traces of their injury. The stains of intemperance discolour it ; ill-nature draws it down ; envy deforms, and voluiJtuousness bloats it. The impressions of sorrow upon it are easily traced ; the injuries which it suffers from ill- health are manifest, and accidents may often deform its symmetry. It is sweetened by benevolence, chiselled by taste, rendered firm by wisdom, and composed by discretion ; and these traces, if habitually fixed, last unaltered in its soft forms throughout every varying stage of life. We should, therefore, labour in our own persons, and watch those of the young under our control, to form, if possible, this pliant and characteristic feature to that grace and beauty of form which is so apt to be marred by ill-temper and bad passions. But whatever may be the beauty and expression of the mouth which prepossesses in favour of an orator, a well-formed mouth is to be desired on another and most important account, which is for the advantage of more perfect articulation and grace in delivery. An ill-formed, uncouth, underhung or gaping mouth can never finish perfectly or correctly the articulation of words, nor deliver them with that winning grace which delights the ear as well as the eye of every hearer. The authors of the fantastic legends of the ' Fairy Tales ' often allude to the magic gift of dropping at every word pearls and diamonds from the lips. A near approach to this imaginary gift is made in real life by those who acquire the most perfect * Buffon : "liist. Nat. de rHomme," p. 527. 29d KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION: [Lect. XVI. eloquence ; who join to correct and finished enunciation the graces of a refined taste and the riches of a cultivated mind. On their lips sit persuasion and delight, and the words which fall from them may well be compared to the brightest gems." * The muscles which act upon the lips are the levator labii stiperioris ZLnd t\\e levator labii propriiis, while the shape and opening and shutting of the mouth are produced by the actions of those muscles which are termed the zygomatic, the inalaris, the little zygomatic, the depressor atiguli oris, the quadratus meiiti and the risorius. The lips play a most prominent part in the manifestation of all the emotions. In joy and laughter they are drawn back at the corners and raised ; in sorrow and dejection they are depressed, and in some instances slightly projected ; in scorn and contempt they are curled upwards, in disgust downwards ; in decision and energy they are firmly compressed together ; in weakness and irre- solution they are relaxed ; in agony they are often tightly pressed together ; and in the case of vexation, it may frequently be noticed that the lower lip is bitten by the upper front teeth. I have also observed that in persons of quick and lively intellect the lips are highly muscular, elastic, and mobile in their actions ; while in persons of weak intellect the lips are loose and pendulous. In fear, in languor, in wonder, and in the act of eager listening, it will be observed in most cases that the lower jaw falls, and the mouth is con- sequently more or less open in extent. Mr. Darwin in his " Expression of the Emotions " notices all these facts, and the last eight chapters of his most deeply interesting work may be read by the student with the greatest profit and advantage. * Austin's "Chironomia," pp. 123. 124. LECTURE XVII. Erasmus Darwin's Theory of the IMode in which we become acquainted with the Emotions of others — Opinion of Edmund Burke — Views of the Tragedian, Betterton - — Expression of the various Emotions :Joy, Pleasure, Cheerfulness, Love, Affection, Sympathy, Pity, Devotion, Veneration, Gravity, Seriousness, Perplexity, Attention, Surprise, Wonder, Amazement, Admiration, Appeal, Persuasion, Hope, Desire, Tranquillity, Acquiescence, Nei^ation, Raillery, Irony, Anxiety, Dejection, Grief, ]\Iisery, Despair, Fear, Terror, Horror, Meditation, Abstraction, Reverie, Vexation, Ill-Temper, Determination, Shame^Views of Dr. Burgh, Sir C. Bell, and Mr. Darwin. [N my last Lecture I brought before your notice analytically the various features of the human countenance, and the parts they severally play in the manifestation of the different emotions. This evening I propose regarding the subject synthetically, and examining how they act in combination in expressing the emotions. The elder Darwin justly remarks in one of his notes to his " Temple of Nature," that "there are two ways by which we become acquainted with the passions of others : first, by having observed the effects of them, as of fear or anger, on our own bodies, we know at sight when others are under the influence of these passions. So children, long before they can speak or understand the language of their parents, may be frightened by an angry countenance, or soothed by smiles and blandishments ; and secondly, when we assume the countenance, or put ourselves in the attitude that any passion naturally occasions, we soon, in some degree, acquire that passion ; hence, when those who are angry indulge them- selves by giving vent to their anger in loud oaths and violent actions of the arms. and hands, they actually increase their anger by the very mode in which they express themselves ; and on the contrary, the counterfeited smile of pleasure in indifferent or disagreeable company soon brings with it a portion of the reality, as is well illustrated by ^Ir. Burke in his ' Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful,' when he says that public speakers who use gesture not only seem in earnest, but for the time actually become so, even though at first they might have been indifferent ; and again Burke remarks : ' It appears to me very clearly from this, and from many other examples, that when the body is disposed by any means whatsoever to such emotions as it would acquire by the means of a 296 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVII. certain passion, it will of itself excite something very like that passion in the mind.' " I think there can be no doubt of the truth of this, and it is confirmed by the authority of many eminent observers in past and present times. I have in my possession an old book (date 1 710) containing the biography of the great tragedian of the latter part of the seventeenth century, }3etterton, which contains also an elaborate treatise by him on the art of dramatic elocution, of the existence of which few seem to be aware. This treatise abounds in illustrations of the truth of the remarks of Edmund Burke and Dr. Darwin, and similar instances may also be found in the recently published biographies of the two eminent actors, Young and Macready. No doubt the restraints which high moral principles, or the culture of good society, lay upon the external and uncontrolled expression of our more violent passions, will do much to keep them within proper bounds ; and hence one of the advantages of education and civilisation. I propose, then, now to enter into an examination of the mode in which our various passions and emotions affect our physical organisation, and render themselves externally visible to others ; and in this investigation I will take first in order the more pleasurable and amiable feelings of our nature, and then those of a sterner and more painful character. Such an investigation is well worthy of our most attentive study, for, as Betterton observes in his " Treatise," every passion or emotion of the mind has its proper and peculiar countenance, tone of voice, and gesture ; and the whole body of man — all his looks, and every sound of his voice, like strings on an instrument, receive their sounds from the various impulses of his passions. Joy, especially when sudden and intense, expresses itself by clapping the hands, leaping, shouting, loud laughter, and other apparently purposeless actions. The sound of laughter is produced (as Mr. Darwin remarks) by a deep inspiration, followed by short, interrupted, spasmodic contractions of the chest, and especially of the diaphragm. Hence we hear of " Laughter holding both his sides." The lower jaw often quivers up and down, and during the action of laughing, the mouth is opened more or less widely, with the corners drawn much backwards as well as a little upwards, and the upper lip is somewhat raised. The drawing back of the corners is best seen in moderate laughter, and especially in a broad smile — the latter epithet showing how the mouth is widened.* The eyes are bright and sparkling, opened wide, save in the act of laughing, and are often, when the joy partakes of a religious character, cast upwards, and not unfrequently in extreme joy or rapture are suffused with tears. The voice is pitched in the highest keys, and abounds in extreme rising inflections — the light bounding poise and quick time. In what may be termed moderate joy, such as pleasure, high spirits, cheerfulness, we have the characteristics of expression as in joy, only more or less subdued in their manifestation. Indeed, Sir Charles Bell says, " In all the exhilarating emotions, the eyebrows, eyelids, the nostrils, and the angles of the mouth are raised, and the whole face seems to expand." — " Darwin's '■ Expression of ihe Emotions," p. 230, Lect. XVII.] ON ELOCUTION. 297 I come next to Love, affection, and what are usually called the softer or more tender passions. In all these, but varying in degree according to the intensity of the passion, we have the forehead smooth and open, the eyebrows slightly raised and arched ; the eyes beaming with a gentle lustre, and smiles playing upon the lips. The tendency to embrace, caress, and kiss the beloved object appears to be universal among the civilised races of mankind ; but Mr. Darwin says the last-named sign of affection is wholly unknown to the New Zealanders, the Tahitians, Papuans, Australians, the Somals of Africa, the natives of Tierra del Fuego, and the Esquimaux. In the expression of love, affection, &c., by the voice, we have a considerable range of rising inilections pitched in keys more or less high, and they are often modulated into a tender minor key. Sympathy is, in Mr. Darwin's opinion, a separate or distinct emotion, and one that is especially apt to excite the lachrymal" glands. The eye- brows are contracted usually, and in Pity, which is a mixed emotion, for with sympathy there is usually blended a certain amount of sorrow and regard, the eyes are bent upon the object that excites the feeling, are frequently suffused with tears, and all the features seem, as it were, drawn together. In the voice rising inflections prevail, and these are usually pitched in minor keys. Devotion may be considered a mixed feeling compounded of love, veneration, and often a certain amount of dread or fear. The eyes are in general cast upward ; the worshipper sinks upon his knees, the hands--' are raised commonly as high as the breast, are upturned, and the palms folded together. The direction of the eyes upwards is, in Mr. Darwin's opinion, a movement that " is probably a conventional one — the result of the common belief that Heaven, the source of Divine Power to which we pray, is seated above us." He further goes on to observe that a humble, kneeling posture, with the hands upturned and palms joined, appears to us, from long habit, a gesture so appropriate to devotion that it might be thought to be innate ; but he states that he has not met with any evidence to this effect with the various extra-European races of mankind. He thinks that Mr. Hensleigh Wedgwood has appa- rently given the true explanation, though this implies that the attitude is one of slavish subjection : " When the suppliant kneels and holds up his hands with the palms joined, he represents a captive who proves the completeness of his submission by offering up his hands to be bound by the victor. It is the pictorial representation of the Latin dat-e manus, to signify submission." Hence it is not probable, Mr. Darwin thinks, that either the uplifting of the eyes or the joining of the open hands under the influence of devotional feelings are innate, or truly expressive actions ; and this could hardly have been expected, for it is very doubt- ful whether feeUngs, such as we should now rank as devotional, affected the hearts of men, whilst they remained in past ages in an uncivilised condition.* In gravity, or serious thought, such as when the mind is meditating upon some important subject, the eyebrows are somewhat drawn down, the eyes often seem to be bent on vacancy, the mouth is * Darwin's "Expression of the Emotion?:," p. 221. 298 A'ING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVIL shut, and the lips firmly pressed together. Mr. Darwin remarks that '"a man may be absorbed in the deepest thought, and his brow will remain smooth until he encounters some obstacle to his train of reasoning, or is interrupted by some disturbance, and then a frown passes like a shadow over his brow." This is caused by the action of the corrugator muscles, which, by their contracting, lower the eyebrows and bring them closer together, thereby producing vertical furrows in the forehead, or in other words, a frown. Sir. C. Bell* expresses his opinion, that the corrugator is " the most remarkable muscle of the human face. It knits the eye- brows with an energetic effort, which unaccountably, but irresistibly, conveys the idea of mind." The posture of the body and limbs is usually composed, and without much motion ; but, as Mr. Darwin observes, in perplexed reflection we find that it is often accompanied by certain movements or gestures. At such times we commonly raise our hands to our foreheads, our mouths, or chins ; but we do not act thus, as far as he has seen, when we are quite lost in meditation, and no diffi- culty is encountered. We can understand why the forehead should be pressed or rubbed, as deep thought tries the brain, but why the hand should be raised to the mouth, or chin, or other parts of the face, is not so clear.f It is pretty nearly certain that men of all races frown when they are in any way perplexed in thought. When grave meditation expresses itself in language, the voice is usually pitched in low keys ; sub- dued inflections and the heavy poise prevail, and the delivery in point of time is slow. We are led next, by an almost imperceptible gradation, to consider attention, surprise, wonder, and amazement, for, as Mr. Darwin very justly remarks, attention, if sudden and close, often graduates into sur- prise ; and this into astonishment ; and this into stupefied amaze- ment. The latter frame of mind is closely akin to terror. Attention is shown by the eyebrows being slightly raised, and as this state in- creases into surprise, they are raised to a much greater extent, with the eyes widely opened. Mr. Darwin also says that the mouth is widely open. It is so usually, I admit, but I do not think invariably. I have noticed it always with the lower classes, but I do not think it is so com- monly seen among the more highly-cultured classes of society, or in those who have been trained to carry on respiration properly, i.e., by the nostrils. But the eyes are more or less widely open and the eye- brows elevated in all cases where surprise and wonder are really felt. Mr. Darwin says a person may often be seen to pretend surprise by merely raising his eyebrows. All authorities seem to agree that the most common gesture of surprise and wonder is to raise the opened hands either to the level of the face, or, in more extreme cases, high above the head. The utterances of surprise, wonder, and amazement are almost always delivered in rising inflections of considerable extent, pitched in high keys ; unless awe is mingled with wonder when the rising inflections are subdued, and keys more or less low prevail. Admi- ration is a mixed feeling usually consisting of some degree of wonder, which produces also a sense of pleasure, with approval or esteem, * Sir C. Bell's "Anatomy of Expression," pp. 137-9. + Darwin, p. 230. Lect. XVII.] OM ELOCUTION. 299 When great admiration is excited, the eyebrows are raised, the eyes widely open, bright, and sparkling, the lips smiling, and the hands not very unfrequently raised up with the palms expanded. Its expression by the voice is always in extreme rising inflections, pitched in high keys. Appeal or persuasion usually has the forehead smooth and unruffled, the eyes opened wide, with an eager, discerning look, the lips inclined to a smile, and the voice takes a considerable range in rising inflec- tions pitched in moderately high keys. In the manifestation of hope, we lind in general, more or less, accord- ing to degree, of the following characteristics : — ■ The whole countenance has a bright expanded look, the eyebrows are arched, the eyes sparkling, and the lips inclined to a smile. In its expression by language we find the voice taking a considerable range in the use of rising inflections, pitched in keys more or less high, and the delivery is almost always quick in point of time. "Desire," says Dr. Burgh, " differs from hope, as regards expression, chiefly in this particular, that there is more appearance of doubt and anxiety in the former than in the latter ; for it is one thing to desire what is agreeable, and another to have a prospect of its being obtained." In tranquiUity, the countenance is calm, open, and composed, the forehead smooth, the eyebrows slightly arched, and the eyes mild and placid in expression. The mouth is gently closed, and there is a general repose of the body and limbs. The language that is uttered in this frame of mind is expressed in moderate ranges of inflection, and in a voice that is almost always limited to the middle keys and moderate time. Before passing on to the consideration of the sterner and more pain- ful passions and emotions, I just say a word in regard to the external signs which either act as substitutes for or accompany expressions of acquiescence or negation. The nod of the head to signify acquies- cence or approval, and the shake of the head to signify refusal, negation, or disapproval, seem not only to be expressive signs of our feelings, but to be almost general throughout all the races of mankind, civilised and uncivilised, though there are exceptions of which Mr. Darwin gives some curious instances. These two signs would seem, however, to be instinctive or innate among the Anglo-Saxon race and their descendants, for in the well-known case of Laura Bridgman, who was born blind and deaf, it is said that she constantly accompanied her_>w with the common affirmative nod, and her 7io with our negative shake of the head.* Another sign of negation, though one more frequently seen abroad than at home, is to raise the finger or whole hand and shake it from side to side. Raillery and irony may be said to range in their degrees from playful innocent badinage to a spirit of bitter mockery and contempt. In the former, the countenance has much of the general aspect of cheerfulness, the inflections abound in delicate rising circumflexes, pitched in mode- rately high keys, combined with the light poise of the voice. When, * " On the Vocal Sounds of Laura Bridgman," Smithsonian Contribution?:, 1851, vol. ii p. II. 300 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVII. however, the feeling becomes more or less mingled with contempt and passes into irony and satire, the eye glances laterally at the object which excites the emotion, the mouth has what is called a satirical smile, and the circumflex inflections become much more prolonged in range and varied in key. Anxiety, dejection, and grief may pass by almost insensible grada- tions into each other, and partake correspondingly of the same general characteristics. There is a relaxation of the whole tone of the system. The eyebrows assume a peculiar, oblique shape from the outer corners of the eyes upwards, while at the same time, instead of a smooth, they present a roughened appearance, in consequence of the hairs being made to project. Mr. Darwin says that the eyebrows assume this position, owing to the contraction of certain muscles (namely, the orbiculars, corrugators, and pyramidals of the nose, which together tend to lower and contract the eyebrows) being partially checked by the more powerful action of the central fascice of the frontal muscle. These latter fasciae by their contraction raise the inner ends alone of the eye- brows, and as the corrugators at the same time show the eyebrows together, their inner ends become puckered into a fold or lump. This fold is a highly characteristic point in the appearance of the eyebrows w'hen rendered oblique. Dr. J. Crichton Browne has also often noticed in melancholic patients, who keep their eyebrows persistently oblique, a peculiar arching of the upper eyelid. This pecuHar arching of the eye- lids depends, Mr. Darwin believes, on the inner end of the eyebrows being raised, for when the whole eyebrow is elevated and arched, the upper eyelid follows in a slight degree the same movement. But the most conspicuous result of the opposed contraction of the above-named muscles, is exhibited by the peculiar furrows formed on the forehead. These muscles, when thus in conjoint, yet opposed action, may be called, for the sake of brevity, the grief-muscles. When a person elevates his eyebrows by the contraction of the whole frontal muscle, transverse wrinkles extend across the whole breadth of the foreliead ; but in the present case, the middle fascicc alone are contracted, con- sequently transverse furrows are formed across the middle part alone of the forehead. The skin over the exterior parts of both eyebrows is at the same time drawn downwards and smoothed by the contraction of the outer portion of the orbicular muscles. The e3'ebrows are likewise brought together through the simultaneous contraction of the corru- gators ; and this latter action generates vertical furrows, separating the exterior and lowered parts of the skin of the forehead from the central and raised part. The union of these vertical furrows with the central and transverse furrows, produces a mark which has been compared to a horse-shoe ; but the furrows more strictly form three sides of a quad- rangle. They are often conspicuous on the forehead of adult or nearly adult persons when their eyebrows are made oblique ; but with young children, owing to their skins not easily wrinkling, they are rarely seen, or mere traces of them only can be detected. Mr. Darwin further states that few persons, without some practice, can voluntarily act on their grief muscles, but after considerable trials a certain number sue- Lect. XVII.] ON ELOCUTION. 3or ceed, while others never can. The degree of obliquity in the eyebrows, whether assumed, voluntary, or quite unconsciously, differs much in different persons. With some who apparently have strong pyramidal muscles, the contraction of the central fascice of the frontal muscle, although it may be energetic, as shown by the quadrangular furrows on the forehead, does not raise the inner ends of the eyebrows, but only prevents them being so lowered as they otherwise would have been. Mr. Darwin adds that, as far as he has been able to observe, the grief muscles are brought into action much more frequently by women and children than by men. They are rarely acted on, at least with grown-up persons, from mere bodily pain, but almost exclusively from mental distress. The power to bring the grief muscles freely into play appears to be hereditary, like almost every other human faculty. A lady belong- ing to a family famous for having produced an extraordinary number of: great actors and actresses, and who can herself give this expression with singular precision, told Dr. Crichton Browne that all her family had possessed the power in a remarkable degree.* These muscles may be observed strikingly in action in all great tragedians, and their full development is specially noticeable in the portraits of Mrs. Siddons and all the Kemble family representing their impersonations of most of their tragic characters. Another very marked characteristic in dejection, grief, and all melan- choly emotions, is the drawing down of the corners of the mouth, which is effected by those muscles called \.\\q. depresso7-es anguli oris. (See dia- gram.) When the lips are closed and this muscle is called into action, the line of the junction of the two lips forms a curved line with the con- cavity downwards, and the lips themselves are generally somewhat pro- truded, especially the lower one.f These expressions of grief, dejec- tion, and low spirits generally, appear to be universal among all races of mankind. Violent and sudden grief is seen frequently to manifest itself by beat- ing the head with the hands, grovelling on the ground, stamping the feet, lifting the eyes from time to time to heaven, violent weeping and scream- ing, hurrying to and fro, running about distracted, and fainting away. We read, too, in the Old Testament and other ancient records, of rend- ing the garments, tearing the hair, beard, and even flesh as signs of violent grief, distress, and lamentations, and they prevail to the present day among Oriental nations and uncivilised races. When grief and distress find utterance in words, extreme rising inflec- tions prevail, pitched in keys more or less high in proportion to the intensity of the emotions ; but mere melancholy, or dejection, usually expresses itself in subdued inflections, low keys, and the delivery is slow in point of time. The other physical signs of dejection are, that the circulation of the blood being slow, the face is pale, the eyelids droop, the muscles become flaccid, and the head hangs down on the chest. Respiration, too, is slow and feeble, and it is often interrupted by deep * Darwin's "Expressions of the Emotions," cliap. vii. t Duchenne: "Mecanisme de la Fhysionomie Humaine," vol. viii. p. 34; Darwin, P- ^91- 302 AYXG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVII. sighs. It is said by Dr. Burgh that the culmination of all misery, despair, such as is sometimes seen in criminals condemned t'o death, or in those insane patients who believe themselves doomed to perdition, is shown in the eyebrows being strongly contracted and bent down, the forehead furrowed with deep lines, the eyes frequently roll frightfully, the mouth is strongly curved downwards, the lips are often bitten, and the nostrils widely distended. Tears do not often flow, but the eyes glare, and the white part surrounding the eyeball is red and inflamed like those of an animal in a rabid condition. The head sinks down upon the breast, the arms are bent at the elbows, the hands clenched tightly, and the whole body strained and often violently agitated. The skin is livid, and all the veins and muscles swollen. Groans, expressive of inward torture, are more frequently uttered than words. As this state of mind so often leads to madness and suicide, it can hardh', in Dr. Burgh's opinion, be ever acted by those who have to represent it dramatically. Fear is of all emotions the most depressing, Mr. Darwin states, and it soon induces utter helpless prostration, as if in consequence of, or in association with, the most violent and prolonged efforts to escape from the danger, though no such attempts have been actually made, neverthe- less even extreme fear often acts at first as a powerful stimulant. A man or an animal, driven through terror to desperation, is endowed with wonderful strength, and is notoriously dangerous in the highest degree. What j\Ir. Darwin says in reference to fear and terror and their effects upon man is so interesting, and so strictly true to nature, that I am sure the whole passage is well worthy of being given /« extenso. " The word ' fear ' seems to be derived from what is sudden and dangerous, and that of ' terror ' from the trembling of the vocal organs and body. I use the word ' terror ' for extreme fear ; but some writers think it ought to be confined to cases in which the imagination is more particularly concerned. Fear is often preceded by astonishment, and is so far akin to it, that both lead to the senses of sight and hearing being instantly aroused. In both cases the eyes and mouth are widely opened, and the eyebrows raised. The frightened man at first stand:? like a statue, motionless and breathless, or crouches down, as if instinc- tively, to escape observation. " The heart beats quickly and violently, so that it palpitates or knocks against the ribs ; but it is very doubtful whether it then works more efficiently than usual, so as to send a greater supply of blood to all parts of the body ; for the skin instantly becomes pale, as during incipient faintness. This paleness of the surface, however, is probably in large part, or exclusively, due to the vaso-motor being affected in such a manner as to cause the contraction of the small arteries of the skin. That the skin is affected considerably under the sense of great fear, we see in the marvellous and inexplicable manner in which perspiration immediately exudes from it. This exudation is the more remarkable, as the surface is then cold, and hence the term, a cold sweat ; whereas, the sudorific glands are properly excited into action when the surface is heated. The hairs also on the skin stand erect, and the superficial 1,ECT. XVII.] ON ELOCUTION. 303 muscles shiver. In connection with the disturbed action of the heart, the breathing is hurried. The salivary glands act imperfectly, the mouth becomes dry, and is often opened and shut. I have also noticed that under slight fear there is a strong tendency to yawn. One of the best-marked symptoms is the trembling of all the muscles of the body, and this is often first seen in the lips. From this cause, and from the dryness of the mouth, the voice often becomes husky or indistinct, or may altogether fail. ' Obstupui, steteruntque comre, et vox faucibus hKsit.' Of vague fear there is a well-known and grand description in Job. ' In thoughts from the visions of the night when deep sleep falleth upon men, fear came upon me and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face ; the hair of my tlesh stood up. It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof : an image was before my eyes ; there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God ? Shall a man be more pure than his Maker?' (Job i. 4-13). "As fear increases into an. agony of terror, we behold, as under all violent emotions, diversified results. The heart beats wildly, or may fail to act and faintness ensue ; there is a. deathlike pallor ; the wings of the nostrils are widely dilated ; ' there is a gasping and convulsive motion of the lips, a tremor on. the hollow cheek, a gulping and catching of the throat ; ' * the uncovered and protruding eyeballs are fixed on the object of terror, or they may roll restlessly from side to side, hue iliuc volvens oculos totumqite pererrat. The pupils are said to be enor- mously dilated. All the muscles of the body may become rigid, or may be thrown into convulsive movements. The hands are alternately clenched and opened, •often with a twitching movement The arms may be protruded, as if to avert some dreadful danger, or may be thrown wildly over the head. ... As fear rises to an extreme pitch, the dreadful scream of terror is heard. Great beads of sweat stand on the skin. All the muscles of the body are relaxed. Utter prostration soon follows, and the mental powers fail" t Dr. Burgh, writing a hundred years previously, enumerates many of the signs of fear and terror which are mentioned by Mr. Darwin. It remains only to state that when these emotions find vent in language, the voice is weak and trembling, and the sentences often broken and disjointed. Horror may be said, I think, to be the culmination of fear and terror. Horror, says Sir C. Bell, is full of energy ; the body is on the utmost tension, not unnerved as it is in mere fear. In the expres- sion of horror by the countenance, the forehead is deeply furrowed by the strong tension of the muscles which draw the eyebrows from the outer ends upwards ; the eyes themselves are wildly protruded, and the mouth is opened. A cold perspiration bedews the body, convulsive shudders agitate the frame, and there is often, in extreme cases, an involuntary bristling up of the hairs of the head. Shakespeare has well described these indications of horror, when he makes the ghost in Hamlet exclaim : — * Sir C, Bell, " Anatomy of Expies.sion," pp. 88, 164-169. + Darwin: " Expression of the Emotions," pp. 289-292. 304 A'LVG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVII. " I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine." In horror, as, in somewhat less degrees, in fear and terror, there is also a strong contraction of that muscle which is spread over the sides of the neck, and extends downwards a little way beneath the collar-bones, and upwards to the lower part of the cheeks ; and a portion termed the risoriiis may be seen in the diagram (2, letter M). This great muscle is called ih.e piatysnui myoides, and when it contracts, it draws the corners of the mouth and the lower parts of the cheeks downwards and back- wards. The result of this action is to produce on the sides of the neck, in young persons, prominent, longitudinal ridges, and in old, emaciated people, tine transverse wrinkles. Duchenne emphatically calls this great muscle the viuscle of fright.''' The gestures of horror vary in different individuals. Sometimes, according to Dr. Burgh, the arms have the elbows tightly pressed against the sides, the open hands are lifted up to the height of the breast, so that the palms face the dreadful object that excite the horror, as shields opposed against it. One foot is often seen to be drawn back behind the other, so that the body seems to be shrink- ing from the object of horror. The heart beats violently, and respira- tion is quick and short. ISIr. Darwin, too, remarks that, "judging from pictures, the whole body is often turned away or shrinks, or the -arms are violently protruded, as if to push away some dreadful object. The most frequent gesture, as far as can be inferred from the acting of persons who endeavour to express a vividly imagined scene of horror, is the raising of both shoulders, with the bent arms pressed closely against the sides or chest. These movements are nearly the same with those commonly made when we feel very cold ; and they are generally accompanied by a shudder, as well as by a deep expiration or inspira- tion, according as the chest happens at the time to be expanded or contracted. The sounds thus made are expressed by interjections iike'z^/;' or 'ugh.' It is not, however, obvious why, when we feel cold, or express a sense of horror, we press our bent arms against our bodies, raise our shoulders and shudder." t In regard to meditation, abstraction, reverie, &c., our remarks need not be at any great length. In this condition, the head may often be observed to droop forward in consequence of the general relaxation of the muscles, and the eyes have a peculiarly vacant expression, and are often, moreover, slightly divergent ; and when meditation passes into perplexed reflection, as when doubts and difficulties arise in the mind, the change is frequently shown at once by the corrugator muscles con- tracting and consequently lowering the eyebrows and bringing them close together, thereby causing vertical furrows on the forehead, or * Duchenne : "Mecanisme de la Pliysionomie Humaine," Album. Legende XI. t Darwin's " Exinession of the Emotions," p. 307, Lect. XVII.] ON ELOCUTION. 305 in a word, a frown ; and also by peculiar actions, such as raising the hand to the forehead, or rubbing it, or by raising the hand to the mouth, cheek, or chin. Plautus, in one of his plays (" Miles Gloriosus," act ii. sc. 2), notices this as a sign of perplexed meditation, when he says, "Now look, he has pillowed his chin upon his hand." We can understand, Mr. Darwin says, why the forehead should be pressed or rubbed when deep thought tries the brain, but why the hand should be raised to the mouth or face is far from clear. When this state of mind finds utterance in language, the voice is in general characterised by low keys, subdued inflections, heavy poise, and slow time. Vexation and ill-temper may sometimes arise out of perplexed meditation, and then, in addition to the frown, we find the corners of the mouth drawn downwards. If the frown is intensified by the strong contraction of the pyramidal muscles of the nose, thereby causing deeply marked lines across the base of the nose, an expression of obstinate, sullen moroseness is induced. A protrusion more or less of the lips gives what is termed an appearance of sulkiness to the countenance. Nothing gives so much the expression of determination and a strong will as a firmly closed mouth. I have never yet met with man or woman, of energetic character, who failed to show this external indi- cation. The habitually open mouth is, I believe, one of the surest signs of a weak and vacillating disposition. I have also noticed it as one of the frequent characteristics of persons who stammer or stutter. Mr. Darwin accounts, I think, most truly and reasonably for the firmly closed mouth being the sign of the firm and resolute character, when he says : " A prolonged effort of any kind, whether of mind or body, implies previous determination ; and if it can be shown that the mouth is generally closed with firmness before and during a great and con- tinued exertion of the muscular system, then, through the principle of association, the mouth would almost certainly be closed as soon as any determined resolution was taken. Now several observers have noticed that a man, in commencing any violent muscular effort, invariably first distends his lungs with air, and then compresses it by the strong contraction of the muscles of the chest, and to effect this, the mouth must be firmly closed. , , . Dr, Piderit accounts for the firm closure of the mouth tiuriilg strong muscular exertion on the principle that the influence of the will spreads to other muscles besides those necessarily brought into action in making any particular exertion ; and it is natural that the muscles of respiration and of the mouth, from being so habitually used, should be especially liable to be thus acted on," * It appears to me that there is probably some truth in this view, for we are apt to press the teeth hard together during violent exertion, and this is not requisite to prevent expiration, whilst the muscles of the chest are strongly contracted. Lastly, when a man has to perform some delicate and difficult opera- tion, not requiring the exertion of any strength, he nevertheless generally closes his mouth, and ceases for a time to breathe ; but he * "Mimik und Physionomik," s. 79. U 3o6 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVII. acts thus that the movements of his chest may not disturb those of his arms. . . . To perform an action, however trifling, if difficult, implies some amount of previous determination. There appears nothing improbable in all the above assigned causes having come into play in different degrees, either conjointly or separately, on various occasions. The result would be a well-established habit, now, perhaps, inherited, of firmly closing the mouth at the commence- ment and during any violent and prolonged exertion, or any delicate operation. Through the principle of association there would also be a strong tendency towards this same habit as soon as the mind had resolved on any particular action or line of conduct, even before there was any bodily exertion, or if none were requisite. The habitual and firm closure of the mouth would thus come to show decision of char- acter, and decision readily passes into obstinacy.* When determination expresses itself in language, the voice is characterised by emphatic falling inflections, generally pitched in low keys. Shame is peculiarly characterised by blushing, which seems to be specially a human manifestation of emotion. It is owing to the relaxa- tion of the muscular coats of the small arteries. When this takes place, the capillaries become suffused with blood ; but this results from the proper vaso-motor centres being affected by an emotion of the mind. All races of mankind exhibit the phenomenon of blushing, though of course the darker the race the less is it perceptible. Mr. Darwin remarks that, under a keen sense of shame, there is a strong desire for concealment. We turn away the whole body, more especially the face, which we endeavour in some manner to hide. An ashamed person can hardly endure to meet the gaze of those present, so that he almost invariably casts down his eyes or looks askant. As there generally exists at the same time a strong wish to avoid the appearance of shame, a vain attempt is made to look direct at the person who causes this feeling ; and the antagonism between these opposite ten- dencies leads to various restless movements in the eyes. An intense blush is sometimes also accompanied by a slight effusion of tears, and this, Mr. Darwin says, he presumes is due to the lachrymal glands partaking of the increased supply of blood, which he knows rushes into the capillaries of the adjoining parts, including the retina. He further remarks that many writers, ancient and modern, have noticed the foregoing movements. Ezra cries out (ix. 6), " O my God ! I am ashamed, and blush to lift my head to Thee, my God ! " In Isaiah (i. 6), we read, "I hid not my face from shame." Seneca remarks in his eleventh epistle that the Roman actors hang down their heads, fix their eyes on the ground, and keep them lowered, but are unable to blush in acting shame. According to Macrobius, who lived in the fifth century (Saturnalia, B. vii. c. xi.), " Natural philosophers assert that nature, being moved by shame, spreads the blood before herself, as a veil, as we see any one blushing often * Darwin's " Expression of the Emotions," pp. 236-238. Lect. XVII.] ON ELOCUTION. 307 puts Jiis hands before his face." Shakespeare, in Titus Andronicus (act ii. sc. 5), makes Marcus say to his niece, "Ah ! now thou turn'st away thy face for shame."* Shame shyness, and extreme modesty, all in different degrees manifest themselves by blushing. When these feelings are shown in language, the voice is in general weak and faltering. * Darwin's "Expression of the Emotions," pp. 322, 323. LECTURE XVIII. The Subject of the Expression of the Emotions continued — Guilt — Remorse — Craft — Slyness — Pride — Courage — Helplessness — Obstinacy — Resignation — Indignation — Anger — Hatred — Rage — Jealousy — Contempt — Disdain — Scorn — Disgust — Con- clusion of the Analysis of the Human Emotions. UILT in many respects presents the same external signs as shame. There is the same tendency to blushing, the same restless, shifting movements of the eyes, which, however, exhibit, it is said, a special reluctance to look upon the per- son wronged. Many of the marks which characterise fear are also to be noticed in guilt in many instances. Mr. Darwin mentions in the case of one of his own children it was shown at a very early age by an unnatural brightness in the eyes, and by an odd, affected manner, impossible to describe. Remorse, which seems to be a complex emotion, consisting of guilt, shame, anxiety, and sorrow, exhibits the several characteristics of feel- ings. Dr. Burgh says that remorse casts down the countenance and clouds it with anxiety, draws down the eyebrows, and the eyes are often bent upon the ground. The lips are firmly pressed together, and in extreme cases the teeth are gnashed. The muscular tension is often extreme, and the whole body is strained and violently agitated. If this strong remorse is succeeded by the more gracious disposition of penitence or contrition, then the eyes are often raised to heaven, but with a great appearance of doubt, anxiety, and fear, and as often cast down again to the earth. Tears frequently flow. The knees are bent, or the whole person is prostrated on the ground. The arms are extended, and the hands clasped in supplication. The voice of deprecation is interrupted by frequent sighs ; comparatively high keys and rising inflections prevail, and the tones are weak and tremulous. Craft and slyness are manifested by dispositions that betray themselves more by the eyes and their peculiar movements, than by any other feature in the countenance. Mr. Herbert Spencer in his " Elements of Psy- chology" (2d edit, p. 552) says, "When there is a desire to see some- thing on one side of the visual field without being supposed to see it. the tendency is to check the conspicuous movement of the head, and to make the requisite adjustment entirely with the eyes, which are there- fore drawn very much to one side. Hence, when the eyes are turned to one side, while the face is not turned on the same side, we get the natural language of what is termed slyness." Lect. XVIII.] KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. 309 Pride assumes a lofty look, bordering upon the aspect of firmness and determmation. Dr. Burgh states it is characterised by the eyes being open, but with the eyebrows considerably contracted and drawn down. The mouth is firmly closed, and the lower lip in general slightly pro- truded. Mr. Darwin says, of all the complex emotions, pride, perhaps, is the most plainly expressed. A proud man exhibits his sense of superiority over others by holding his head and body erect. He is haughty (Jiaui) or high, and makes himself appear as large as possible ; so that, metaphorically, he is said to be swollen or puffed up with pride. The arrogant man looks down on others, and with lowered eyelids hardly condescends to see them ; or he may show his contempt by slight move- ments about the nostrils or lips ; hence the muscle which everts the lower lip has been called the inuscidus sttperlms. The whole expression of pride stands in direct antithesis to that of humility, so that nothing need here be said of the latter state of mind.* Courage gives a free, open air to the whole countenance. The eyes are bright and sparkling, the lips firmly pressed together, the chest ex- panded, and the whole figure erect and free in movement. The voice is firm, full, and often characterised by the hght, bounding poise. Helplessness, or the inability to do as desired, is often shown by an action that appears to be common throughout the world, namely, shrugging the shoulders. Mr. Darwin says that this gesture implies an unintentional or unavoidable action on our own part, or one that we cannot perform ; or an action performed by another person that we cannot prevent. It accompanies such speeches as " It was not my fault;" "It is impossible for me to grant this favour;" "He must follow his own course, I cannot stop him." Shrugging the shoulders likewise expresses patience, or the absence of any intention to resist, hence the muscles which raise the shoulders are sometimes called, as I have been informed by an artist, "the patience muscles." Shylock the Jew says — " Signor Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my monies and my usances : Still have I borne it with a patient shrug." In this action, while the shoulders are raised, the arms are usually bent at the elbows, showing the palms of the hands with extended fingers ; the head is thrown a little on one side, the eyebrows are raised, and at the moment of the action the mouth is commonly open. Obstinacy, or a dogged resolve not to do a thing, is shown by the shrug of the shoulders being higher and more decided, and mouth compressed. Resignation, or submission, appears to be often manifested by the open hands being placed one over the other on the lower part of the body, and the countenance is mild and placid in expression. I come now to the consideration of those passions which may be called the strongest and most painful in their character, alike as regards * Darwin's "Expression of the Emotions," p. 263, 264, 3IO KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVII I. their subjects and objects. I take first under this head indignation, anger, hatred, and rage ; for these emotions of the mind differ from each other only in degree, and it cannot be said that there are any precise boundaries that separate the one from the other. These passions appear to be manifested in nearly the same manner among all races of mankind. From the stimulus which indignation and anger give to the general system, the action of the heart is increased, and in consequence of the more rapid circulation of the blood, the eyes become bright and the cheeks flush. The corrugator muscles are called powerfully into action, and a strongly-marked frown is produced, while at the same time the corners of the mouth are drawn down and the lips are closely compressed ; respiration being also quickened, and all the muscles that contribute to this function acting in conjunction, the alee or wings of the nostrils are somewhat spread out to allow of a freer ingress of air. Shakespeare admirably describes all these signs in Henry the Fifth's address to his soldiers before the siege of Harfleur — " Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility : 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 ; Then, lend the eye a terrible aspect ; Let it pry through the portage of the head, * Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm ir, As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean — Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide ; Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit To his full height ! Now on ! you noblest English, Whose blood is fetched from fathers of war-proof; Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders, Have, in these parts, from morn till even fought, And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument ! I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's a-foot ; Follow your spirit ; and upon this charge, Cry, Heaven for Harry ! England ! and St. George ! " Henry V., act iii. sc. i. In certain cases the action of the heart is so much impeded in extreme rage, that the countenance, instead of flushing, becomes deadly pale, or livid, or sometimes almost purple. Mr. Darwin says that, in general, energy is given to the will and strength to the muscles Dy the excited condition of the brain under the influence of anger and rage. Lect. XVIII.] ON ELOCUTION. 311 "The body is held .erect commonly, as if ready for instant action ; but sometimes it is bent forward towards the offending person with the limbs more or less rigid. The mouth is generally closed with firmness, show- ing fixed determination, and the teeth are clenched or ground together. Such gestures as the raising of the arms with the fists clenched as if to strike the offender are common. Few men, in a great passion and telling some one to begone, can resist acting as if they intended to strike or push the man violently away. The desire, indeed, to strike often becomes so intolerably strong, that inanimate objects are struck or dashed to the ground, but the gestures frequently become altogether purposeless, or frantic. . . . However, the muscular system is some- times affected in a different way altogether, for trembling is a frequent consequence of extreme rage. The paralysed lips then refuse to obey the will, and the voice ' sticks in the throat,' * or it is rendered loud, harsh, or discordant. There is in most cases a strongly marked frown on the forehead, for this follows from the sense of anything displeasing or difficult, together with concentration of mind. But sometimes the brow, instead of being much contracted or lowered, remains smooth, with the glaring eyes kept widely open. The eyes are always bright, or may, as Homer expresses it, 'glisten with fire.' They are sometimes bloodshot, and are said to protrude from their sockets, the result, no doubt, of the head being gorged with blood, as shown by the veins being distended."! When anger expresses itself in language, it is in very varied keys, but always in the most emphatic falling inflections and the heaviest poise of the voice. Jealousy is of all the mixed emotions perhaps the most complex in character. Dr. Burgh sa>;s it is compounded of love, hatred, hope, fear, shame, anxiety, suspicion, grief, pity, envy, pride, rage, cruelty, vengeance, and madness. Therefore, to portray jealousy well, as represented in such a character as Othello, requires that the actor should know how to represent truly all these passions by turns, and several of them together. The following is the description of the manifestations of this emotion given by D. Burgh: — "Jealousy shows itself by restlessness, peevishness, anxiety, and thoughtfulness. Sometimes it bursts out in piteous complaint and tears, then a gleam of hope that all is yet well lights up the countenance with a momentary smile. The next moment, perhaps, the face clouds over with a general gloom, showing the mind again overcast with horrid suspicions and frightful imaginations. Then, perhaps, the arms are tightly folded or. the breast, or the hands may be violently clenched, while the rolling, bloodshot eyes dart lightning glances of rage and fury. The jealous man, tortured with all these conflicting passions, hurries to and fro, and has no more rest than a ship has, tempest-tossed in a troubled sea, the sport of winds and waves. Again, after awhile, his passion is for a time subdued, and he dwells in his imagination on the memories of past happiness, and calls up the image of his beloved. * In Sir C. Bell's " Anatomy of Expression," p. 95, there are some e.^celienc remarks on the expression of rage. t Darwin's "Expression of the Emotions," pp. 241, 242. 312 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XVIII. Then his monster-breeding fancy represents her as false as she is fair ; he cries out as one upon the rack, when the cruel engine rends every joint and every sinew snaps. Anon he casts himself upon the ground, then springs up, and with the look and action of a demon bursting from the abyss of hell, he snatches the instrument of death, and after stabbing the woman so loved, suspected, hated, and lamented, plunges the dagger in his own heart, exhibiting a terrible proof of what a man may become by the indulgence of an infernal passion."* Dr, Burgh has evidently drawn this picture of a man tortured by excess of jealousy from the leading incidents in the character of Othello. It is almost needless to observe that the voice exhibits all the various characteristics of the different conflicting emotions through which the jealous man passes as he gives utterance to his feelings. Contempt, disdain, scorn, and disgust seem to me to be emotions so closely allied that they pass by almost imperceptible degrees into each other. Quiet, calm contempt is usually conveyed by a slight smile and elevation of the upper lip, whilst at the same time the nose is somewhat raised up, and the alee of the nostrils contracted. Duchenne and Gratiolet both speak of the partial closing of the eyelids, or the turning away of the eyes, or the whole person, as being signs that are highly characteristic of disdain. f " These actions seem to imply." says Mr. Darwin, " that the despised person is not worth looking at, or is dis- agreeable to behold." The elevation of the upper lip at one corner and the uncovering of the canine tooth by this action, while the face itself is a little upturned and half-averted from the person who is the object of scorn, is very strongly expressive of that feeling, and Mr. Darwin devotes the latter portion of his tenth chapter to a consideration of the subject and the origin of the action. The snapping of the fingers is also a very frequent and well-known gesture of extreme contempt and scorn. Mr. Tyler, in his " Early History of Mankind," % says, in reference to this action, "It is not very intelligible as we generally see it ; but when we notice that the same sign, made quite gently, as if rolling some tiny object away with the thumbnail and forefinger are usual and well understood deaf and dumb gestures, denoting anything tiny, insignificant, or contemptible, it seems as though we had exag- gerated and conventionalised a perfectly natural action, so as to lose sight of its original meaning." There is a curious mention of this gesture by Strabo. Disgust, as far as my own observations have extended, is in general shown by an exaggerated protrusion of the lips, accompanied by a draw- ing down of the corners of the mouth, and the utterance of certain peculiar, but well-known and strongly expressive, guttural sounds. A shudder more or less in degree may often, in extreme disgust, be seen to run through the whole frame, while a frown contracts the eyebrows and wrinkles the forehead. The arms may be noticed to be closely * Dr. Burgh's "Essay on the Passions and Humours," pp. 23, 26, publislied 1784. t Duchenne: " Physionomie Ilumaine," Album. Legende VIjI. p. 35; Gratiolet: ' I)e la Physionomie," 1S65, p. 52. :J: Second edition, p. 45. Lect. XVIII.l ON ELOCUTION. 313 pressed against the sides, and the shoulders raised, where strong disgust is felt. I have now, I think, examined the principal passions and emotions to which human nature is liable. There may be some few others that might be named, but I believe they will be found to be gradations of the foregoing, or else to resolve themselves into complex emotions, and in justification of the time devoted to the full consideration I have given to this subject, I cannot do better than quote the words of Dr. Burgh. " If it be alleged that some of these passions and emotions are such as hardly ever are likely to come into the way of the speaker at the bar, in the pulpit, or in either House of Parliament, or, indeed, save on the stage, in public hfe generally, it does not therefore follow that the labour of studying and practising the proper ways of expressing them is useless. On the contrary, every speaker will find his account in enlarging his sphere of practice. A gentleman may not have occasion to fence or dance every day ; but has occasion to go into society every day, and he will enter a room with all the better grace for his having learnt to fence and dance in the most elegant manner. The orator may not have occa- sion actually to express anger, malice, hatred, jealousy, and some few others of the more violent passions ; but he will, by practising his organs of voice in the art of expressing them, acquire a masterly ease and fluency in giving utterance to those he has actually occasion to express." * In closing this general review of the emotions of human nature, it would be impossible for me to find a more eloquent peroration than that afforded by Mr. Darwin's closing v;ords. " The movements of expression in the face and body, whatever their origin may have been, are in themselves of much importance to our welfare. They serve as the first means of communication between the mother and her infant ; she smiles approval, and thus encourages her child in the right path, or frowns disapproval. We all readily perceive sympathy in others by their expression ; our sufferings are thus mitigated and our pleasures increased, and mutual good feeling is thus strengthened. The movements of expression give vividness and energy to our spoken words. They reveal the thoughts and intentions of others more truly than do words, which may be falsified. Whatever amount of truth the so-called science of physiognomy may contain, appears to depend, as Haller long ago remarked,! on different persons bringing into frequent use different facial muscles according to their dispositions, the develop- ment of these muscles being perhaps thus increased, and the lines or furrows on their face due to their habitual contraction being thus rendered deeper and more conspicuous. The free expression by outward signs of an emotion intensifies it. On the other hand, the repression, as far as this is possible, of all outward signs softens our emotions.^ He who gives way to violent gestures will increase his rage ; he who does not * Dr. Burgh's "Essay on the Passions and Emotions," p. 27. f Quoted by Moifeau in his edition of" Lavater," vol. iv. p. 21 1. X Gratiolet, in his " De la Physionomie " 1865, p. 66, insists on the truth of this conclusion. 314 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. [Lect. XVIII. control the signs of fear will experience fear in a greater degree ; and he who remains passive when overwhelmed with grief, loses his best chance of recovering elasticity of mind. These results follow partly from the intimate relation which exists between almost all the emotions and their outward manifestations, and partly from the direct influence of exertion on the heart, and consequently on the brain. Even the simulation of an emotion tends to rouse it in our minds. Shakespeare, who from his wonderful knowledge of the human mind ought to be an excellent judge, says, in the person of Hamlet : — ' Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to her own conceit, That from her working all his visage warm'd. Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? And all for nothing ! ' " We have seen that expression in itself, or the language of the emotions, as it has sometimes been called, is certainly of importance to the welfare of mankind. To understand, as far as is possible, the source or origin of the various expressions which may be hourly seen in the faces of the men around us, not to mention our domestic animals, ought to possess much interest for us. From those several causes, we may conclude that the philosophy of our subject has well deserved the attention which it has already received from several excellent observers, and that it deserves still further attention, especially from any able physiologist. Note. — The student may consult with the greatest advantage Mr. Herbert Spencer's chapter on " The Language of the Emotions " in the second volume of his "Principles of Psychology," p. 539. ^^ ^ p w ^ ^ ^^^'^'^^ n>? ^ ^^^3 ^Is.^j^a*^ ^m 1 1 i i CD ^ ^Upm I^S B ^^^^^ LECTURE XIX. Hindrances to Fluency of Speech — Dr. Abbotts — Stammering and Stuttering — Definition of eacli of these Impediments — Various Causes of Stammering and Stuttering — Other Varieties of Defective Articulation — i\Ieans by which all Impedi- ments of Speech may be removed — Special Directions for the Self-cure of Stammer- ing and Stuttering, and the Correction of all Imperfect and Defective Articulation. PROPOSE in this Lecture treating exclusively of those hin- drances to fluency in delivery which commonly are classified under the names of stammering, stuttering, and impediments of speech. Dr. Abbotts, in his work on "Stammering and Stuttering,"* says that these painful affections, like many others which depend in some degree upon the nervous system, have of late years been greatly on the increase, especially in our large towns. He considers these maladies to be essentially belonging to a state of civilisa- tion, and asserts that in a condition of savage simplicity stammering and stuttering are next to unknown, a fact which we have upon the authority of many travellers in different parts of the world. He states that Mr. George Catlin, whose name I have so frequently mentioned, informed him, in answer to his inquiries, that, during the whole of his travels in North and South America, he never met and never heard of any one who stammered, although two millions of savages came under his obser- vation. Dr. Livingstone stated that he saw no native who stammered during the long period he spent in Central Africa, and Commander Cameron, R.N., whose African experience is of course very consider- able, fully confirms Dr. Livingstone's observations. Dr. Abbotts Smith thinks that, from such data as he has to go by, he should be disposed to set down the proportion of persons suffering under impediments of speech as about one in looo of the whole population of England. Some writers put the estimate much higher, at two and even three per looo of the population. In some localities these high rates might, however, prevail, particularly if all cases of slight impediments were taken into consideration. A singular circumstance which has been remarked with respect to the frequency of stammering is, that it is much more common in some neighbourhoods than in others. The reason of this is not apparent, but the fact still remains incontrovertible, if an observer will take the trouble to compare in this respect the various districts wi^h which he is acquainted. * Seventh Edition. Pitman, 140 Gower Street. 1S79. 3i6 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIX, In some localities it is very rare to meet with persons afflicted with impediments of speech, while in others, of which, says Dr. Abbotts Smith, some parts of Lancashire may be taken as examples, it is not unusual in the course of a single day to meet several persons who suffer from these affections. In the northern districts of Ireland stammering is a common affection, while in Dublin it is comparatively rare. According to the special correspondent of the " Daily News " in Spain, it is very rare to meet with a native of that country who is a stammerer. Dr. Abbotts Smith thinks this may perhaps be attributed to the soft, readily-flowing character of the Spanish language, in which opinion I concur, as also in regard to the language of Italy, in which country stammerers are also comparatively very rare. But I think a still stronger reason is to be found in the full, sonorous tone in which Spaniards and Italians as a rule produce, sustain, and finish the numerous recurrent open vowels in their respective languages, and which give them this " easily-flowing " character ; and these national characteristics of pronunciation are, I believe, the result of the operation of the law of heredity, as well as of unconscious imitation in early life. In Germany, on the contrary, stammering is frequent ; and it was ascertained by official returns some years ago that in Prussia the proportion of stammerers was as high as two per looo. There is no doubt, I think, alike from my own experience and the observations of others, that impediments of speech are more common among men than women, for which fact it is rather difficult to offer any satisfactory explanation. The proportion of male to female stammerers or stutterers is, in the opinion of Dr. Abbotts Smith, pro- bably about three to one, and when impediments of speech do occur in women, he thinks they are generally more difficult to cure than in the case of men. Lisping, on the contrary, is more prevalent in women ; and often, in Dr. Abbotts Smith's opinion, originates in mere affectation, just as rhotacism, or changing the rough r into the sound of w, was at one time an affectation of the " Sir Fwedewick Blounts " of fashionable life, until at last that which was at first voluntarily adopted became by long habit very difficult to shake off. The late Dr. Graves, of Dublin, mentions in his Clinical Lectures a very remarkable case in confirma- tion of this majority of males labouring under impediments of speech as compared with females, and states that he was acquainted with a family in which not a single female stammered, although there had been three generations of male stammerers in this family. Dr. Abbotts says that a very similar instance has come under his own observation, and I may add that I have had under my own care all the male members of two different families in the higher ranks of life who stammered frightfully, while not one of the females had any impedi- ment. Persons, in general, use the terms stammering and stuttering indiscriminately, and call every variety of defective pronunciation by one or the other of these names, as if they were only synonyms. Stammering is the difficulty, in some cases the inability, to properly enunciate some or many of the elementary speech-sounds, accompanied or not by a slow, hesitating, more or less indistinct delivery, but 7iot Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 31? altended with frequent repetitions of the initial sounds, and consequent convulsive efforts to surmount the difficulty. Stuttering, on the other hand, is a vicious utterance manifested by frequent repetitions of initial or other elementary sounds, and always more or less attended with muscular contortions. The above is the definition of these two affections laid down by Dr. Hunt in his admirable and exhaustive book on the subject,* and to him is to be given the merit of having been, 1 believe, the first English writer to discriminate accurately between these two disorders, which differ both in kind and origin. To those who wish fully to investigate the history of these painful and unfortunate affections, w^hich, unless removed, so often mar all the sufferer's prospects in life, as well as to see the many severe, cruel, and useless operations and mechanical appliances which, from time to time, and by various persons, have been proposed, and too often adopted, for the cure of these maladies, I most strongly recom- mend Dr. Hunt's work on stammering, as well as his larger work, entitled " The Philosophy of Voice and Speech." f I avail myself of Dr. Hunt's excellent resume to place before you the chief causes of stammering. ''Vowel Stammering. — The belief that stammering occurs only in the pronunciation of consonants is certainly erroneous ; the vowels are equally subject to this defect, though not to the same extent as the con- sonants. The proximate causes of defective-vowel sounds may have their seat either in the vocal apparatus, or in the oral canal. The original sounds may be deficient in quality, from an affection of the vocal ligaments, as in hoarseness ; or the sounds may be altered in the buccal and nasal cavities, from defects, or an improper use of the velum ; in which cases the vowels are frequently aspirated. Enlargement of the tonsils, defective lips and teeth, may also influence the enunciation of the vowels. But the whole speech-apparatus may be in a healthy state, and yet the enunciation of the vowels may be faulty, from misemploy- ment, or from defective association of the various organs upon which the proper articulation of the vowels depend. In some cases the faulty pronunciation may be traced to some defect in the organ of hearing. "defective enunciation of consonants. " Consonantal Stammering may, like that of the vowels, be the result of an organic affection, either of the vocal apparatus, or of the organs of articulation. When, for instance, the soft palate, either from existing apertures or inactivity of its muscles, cannot close the posterior nares, so that the oral canal may be separated from the nasal tube, speech acquires a nasal timbre, and the articulation of many consonants is variously affected. B and/ then assume the sound of an indistinct m ; d and / sound somewhat like n ; and g and k like 7ig. The action of the velum during speech is thus described by Sir Charles Bell : — '" In a person whom I had the pain of attending long after the bones * Hunt on "Stammering." Longman & Co., i86i. t Longman iSc Co., 1859. 31 8 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect XIX. of the face were lost, and in whom I could look down behind the palate, I saw the operation of the velum palatl. During speech it was in con- stant motion ; and when the person pronounced the explosive letters, the velum rose convex, so as to interrupt the ascent of breath in that direc- tion ; and as the lips parted, or the tongue separated from the teeth or palate, the velum recoiled forcibly.' " On the other hand, closure of the nasal tube, either from a common cold or other obstructions, affects the articulation of ;;/, ;/, 7ig, which then sound nearly as b, d, g hard. "the chief causes of stammering. " The variety of defects which constitute stammering result either from actual defective organisation or from functional disturbance. Among organic defects may be enumerated : hare-lip, cleft-palate, abnormal length and thickness of the uvula, inflammation and enlarge- ment of the tonsils, abnormal size and tumours of the tongue, tumours in the buccal cavity, want or defective position of the teeth, &c. " Dr. Ashburner, in his work on Dentition, mentions a very curious case of a boy who, though not deaf, could not speak. This he attributed to the smallness of the jaws, which, taking at length a sudden start in growth, by which the pressure was taken off from the dental nerves, the organs became free, and the boy learned to speak. Considering that the teeth play but a subordinate part in articulating — for all the speech sounds, including even the dentals, may be pronounced without their aid, as is the case in toothless age — it is certainly not a little singular that the mere pressure on the dental nerves should produce such an effect. It is very possible that in this case the motions of the lower jaw and of the tongue were impeded, but even then it is not easy to account for the fact that the child never attempted to articulate, how- ever imperfectly. " When the organs are in a normal condition, and the person is unable to place them in a proper position to produce the desired effect,the affec- tion is said to be functional. Debility, paralysis, spasms of the glottis, lips, &c., owing to a central or local affection of the nerves, habit, imitation, &c., may all more or less tend to produce stammering. " From these observations it may be inferred that stammering is either idiopathic, when arising from causes within the vocal and articu- lating apparatus ; or it is symptomatic, when arising from cerebral irrita- tion, paralysis, general debility, intoxication, &:c. Children stammer, partly from imperfect developments of the organs of speech, want of control, deficiency of ideas, and imitation, or in consequence of cerebral and abdominal affections. The stammering, or rather faltering of old people, chiefly arises from local or general debility. The cold stage of fever, intoxication, loss of blood, narcotics, may all produce stammering. Stammering is idiopathic and permanent in imbecility, when the slow- ness of thought keeps pace with the imperfection of speech. It may also be transitorily produced by sudden emotions. Persons gifted with great volubility, when abruptly charged with some real or pretended delinquency, may only be able to stammer out an excuse. Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 519 " STUTTERING. " The main feature of stuttering consists in the difficulty in conjoining and fluently enunciating syllables, words, and sentences. The interrup- tions are more or less frequent, the syllables or words being thrown out in jerks. Hence the speech of stutterers has been by Shakespeare* (and by Plutarch before him) aptly compared to the pouring out of water from a bottle with a long neck, which either flows in a stream, or is intermittent ; the patient in the former case, feeling that his glottis is open, endeavours to pour out as many words as possible before a new interruption takes place. The stoppage of the sound may take place at the second or third syllable of a word, but occurs more frequently at the first, and the usual consequence is, that the beginning of a syllable is several times repeated until the difficulty is conquered. The stutterer, unless he be at the same time a stammerer, which is now and then the case, has generally no difficulty in articulating the eletneiitary sounds, in which respect he differs from the latter ; it is in the combination of these sounds in the formation of words and sentences that his infirmity consists. "Stuttering does not attain to the same degree in all persons. In the most simple cases the affection is but little perceptible ; the person speaks nearly without interruption, and merely hesitates at certain con- sonants, vowels, or syllables. In the second degree, the impediment is much more marked and unpleasant to the listener. The repetitions are more frequent, and though the discourse is nearly continuous, it is effected by manifest efforts, and accompanied with gesticulations, by the subjects dwelling sometimes longer than usual upon one syllable or word, and uttering the rest of the sentence with greater rapidity, as if they distrusted themselves. "Sometimes the efforts of the patient are truly formidable. The tongue flies about the mouth, the face reddens, the countenance is distorted, even the eyes partake of the general commotion ; most of the respiratory and vocal muscles are thrown into a spasmodic action, which extends to the limbs. The patient fumes and stamps, sometimes pinch- ing and hitting himself; frequently he feels a choking sensation, and the perspiration flows from his forehead ; but despite of all his efforts, he can only produce some discordant and inarticulate sounds. The whole of these distressing phenomena is frequently the effect of the slightest of all causes, the effort to articulate a difficult syllable ; for the paroxysm can be instantly checked by the patient relaxing his effort, f * " I pr'ythee, tell me who is it? quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow-mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at all. I pr'ythee take the cork out of thy mouth, that I may drink thy tidings." — As You Like Jt, Act iii. Sc. 2. t "Dr. Semmola (Opere Aliiio)-!., Nap., 1S45), states a case of a young .water- carrier, who had not the aspect of disease. On asking him what was the matter, he was seized by the most terrible convulsions, wliich continued until he brought out the word, and returned on his attempting to speak. But when silent they immediately ceased. The affection had come on a few days ago from a fright. Dr. Semmola con- 320 AVA'G'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIX. " Vinvel Stuttering. — There prevails generally a belief that stuttering only occurs when the initial sound is a consonant; this is an error, for the affection may extend to all the sounds, vowels as well as consonants. In order to understand this, we must bear in mind, that though a word may commence with a vowel, it is still requisite that the glottis should be previously narrowed or closed, for the purpose of placing the vocal chords in a proper position to vibrate. In normal speech the contraction lasts but an instant, being immediately followed by the requisite vibra- tion of the ligaments. In certain conditions, however, the contraction of the glottis lasts longer than usual, and the vowel sound is stopped in the glottis ; or, as is not quite correctly said, vox faucibus hceret. This state may be merely transitory, the result of some sudden powerful emotion or passion. Tears, grief, joy, anger, all may take away the power of utterance. The greatest singers are frequently, on making their first appearance before an audience, upon whose approval their fate depends, unable to utter a single note. The vowels u (as heard in rude) and o seem to offer to the stutterer greater difficulties than e (as in ebb) or i (as in it). " Consonantal Stuttering. — Though stuttering, as has been shown, extends also to the vowels, yet it chiefly occurs at the utterance of the mute and explosive consonants and their medials, as /, /, k, b, d, g, m, &:c. The aspirated and continuous sounds, as/, w, s, &c., offer much less difficulties, as the oral canal is then not so completely closed as in the explosives. "Let me not be understood to join in the common error — first, that it is on account of the difficulty of articulating the explosives that stuttering occurs ; and secondly, that stuttering begins during the enunciation of these consonants. The articulation of the explosives and mutes is, />er se, not more difficult than that of the other conso- nants. The very first letters, indeed, which the child learns to utter are m, p, d, b, papa, mamma, dada, &c. Again, the stutterer (not the stammerer) has no difficulty of articulating the consonants individually, for we hear him repeat in rapid succession b, b, b, b, t, t, t, and so on. What is it then that distresses the stutterer? — surely not the initial explosive. Why, it is the enunciation of the following sound, be it a vowel or a consonant, which is his difficulty ; he cannot join them, and it is this which makes him repeat the explosive until the conjunction is effected. It is, therefore, during the transition from one mechanism to another that the impediment chiefly takes place. " A syllable or a word may commence with a vowel followed by a consonant, or it may commence with a consonant followed by a vowel. At first sight, it may appear that it matters very little whether the vowel or the consonant is the initial sound. A little reflection will show that it makes all the difference. In commencing a syllable with a vowel, the oral canal is more widely opened than when it commences with a consonant. In forming the syllables ap, ebb, ott, &c., all that is necessary is to close the buccal cavity to produce the consonant, the sidered it a case of hypersthenea cerebralis, and bled and leeched him at the temples. After ten hours he was able to speak well." Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. zz\ change in the mouth being easily adjusted, and few stutterers (unless they are also vowel stutterers) find any difficulty in enunciating such syllables. But when a consonant commences the syllable, the mecha- nism is reversed, the oral canal must be opened to produce the vowel ; the articulating organs must be released from the state of contraction, and the vowel must overcome the consonant. This it may appear could be easily effected, if it were merely requisite to give free vent to the interrupted air current by opening the mouth. But it must be considered that in the articulation of the explosives there is, in fact, a double obstruction of the sound, not merely in the mouth, but also in the glottis, as in their enunciation the larynx is fixed, which is not necessary in the other consonants. Both these obstructions nmst not only be suddenly removed, but {and which is the difficulty) there must be at the same moment when the oral canal is opened in front and behind, a sound produced in the larynx by forcing the air from the lungs ; that is to say, that during the formation ot the explosive, the vowel must be ready to follow and to overcome it. If this cannot be effected, the muscles which close the oral canal may continue in a state of contraction, and the formation of the syllable is retarded until repeated attempts prove more successful in liberating the articulating organs. It is the disturbed relation and the antagonism between the vocal and the articulating mechanism which give rise to stuttering ; the spasmodic condition of the glottis, which only takes place in the explosive sounds, is the effect and not the cause of the disturbed relation. Both Sauvages and Joseph Frank * contend that the gutturals g and k offer the greatest impediment to the stutterer, and that the chief cause is the difficulty of moving the velum, the uvula, and the root of the tongue. This is not invariably the case. Some stutterers pronounce these consonants in various combinations easily enough, but stutter at the dentals and labials /, ^, t, d. There are again some in whom the impediment varies ; they hesitate one day at the gutturals, another day at the labials, or may be at the dentals, depending, no doubt, in most cases on their combinations with the succeeding sounds. "principal causes of stuttering. " Among the exciting causes of stuttering may be enumerated affec- tions of the brain and spinal cord, the abdominal canal, abnormal irri- tability of the nervous system, vice, mental emotions, mimicry, and involuntary imitation. The proximate cause of stuttering is, in most cases, the abnormal action of the phonetic and respiratory apparatus, and not, like stammering, the result either of organic defects, or the debility of the articulating organs." I have had, in the course of the private practice of my vocation, a great number of pupils who have presented almost every variety of stammering, stuttering, and defective articulation, so that my experience of such cases, and the successful means to be employed for removing them in each individual case, is tolerably large and comprehensive. * "Nosol. method. 1772. Praxeos Medicse Universie precepta. Lipsia, 1811-23." X 322: KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIX. Since I have had the honour of filling the office of Lecturer on Public Reading and Speaking in these King's College Evening Classes, I have met with some few students who have suffered from impediments of speech of various kinds, but a great many members of the class have had their pronunciation characterised more or less by defective articula- tion, of which I have observed the most frequent to be inability to pro- nounce the rough, or as it is sometimes called, the trilled R, often giving it the sound of W ; the double breath co7isotiant "Th," often giving it the sound of F ; the due aspiration of the H in words where it should be heard ; the proper simple sibilation of the S, converting it into the sound of SH or TH, or what is termed the lisp; inability to sound rightly the last of the letters in words which terminate in NG ; an impure sounding of the voice-consonants M and N, so that they have almost the sound of B and D ; and weakness in the articulation of what are called explosive consonants, particularly P and B. The vowels, too, I have often found to be impurely sounded. In all such cases it has been my practice to form a private class, and give them in my own room lessons adapted for the removal of their several defects in pronunciation, before they again joined the general class for PubUc Reading and Speaking. Now for overcoming such defects it is essential the pupil should be shown exactly how each letter in the alphabet is properly formed by the various speech organs ; and as my object in publishing this Lecture is to afford, as far as mere verbal instruction can convey it, a knowledge of this first and most important element in the art of overcoming difficulties in pronunciation, I have thought it best to add to this Lecture an appendix, in which the pupil will find, not merely an exact and minute description of the manner in which each letter in our alphabet is formed by the voice and articulating organs, but also under each letter a series of appropriate exercises, the practice of which should be diligently carried out (if possible under the watchful care of a judicious master) in order to acquire purity, firmness, audibility and distinctness in the pronunciation of all the various letters. I can assure you, from a long and varied experience in treating persons labouring under impediments of all kinds, that a knowledge of the correct mode of forming the different letters is of the most essential service to the stammerer and stutterer, as well as to those who imagine they are incapable of pronouncing certain particular letters. I have never yet met with any individual in either sex who, provided there was no organic defect of structure in the vocal or articulating organs, could not be taught, by proper explanation and practice, to overcome all diffi- culties, and pronounce every letter in the English alphabet. When attempting to pronounce a letter in which the pupil always experiences a difficulty, the trial should be made at first with extreme slowness and precision. This applies equally to letters and to words ; and in the latter instance care must be taken that every syllable (especially the light or unaccented syllable, which is very apt to be slurred over) be clearly and distinctly articulated. It has been truly said, by a late medical writer (Mr. Bartlett), that — " Stammering proceeds by steps so gradual, as to be scarcely per- Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 323 ceptible from a slight hesitation at particular times only, and which a person not accustomed to this kind of disease would not notice, to a constant stammering accompanied with violent efforts at pronunciation, and great contortion of the countenance : these two states, apparently so dissimilar, are produced by the same cause, and are essentially the same, the disease being more violent in the one case than in the other. If this slight hesitation, observable only at certain times, be not attended to, it will, if it occur in a sensitive and diffident person, and especially if a quick talker, come on more frequently, becoming worse each time of its attack, until it is gradually formed into complete stammering. I need scarcely remark, that a hesitation admits of an easier and a quicker cure than a case of confirmed stammering. It therefore becomes the duty of a person who hesitates, a duty not only to himself but to his family also, not to continue to speak in his usual hesitating, undecided manner, but to endeavour to breakthrough his old habits, and to articulate with a precision equal to that of his friends. On the other hand, if he neglect the rules here prescribed, he will be compelled to look forward to a life of confirmed stammering, to an incapability of expressing his thoughts, to a perfect seclusion from society. Let me prevail on all those who hesitate in the slightest not to defer the endeavour to throw off this pernicious habit. The stammerer should be urged to cure himself, not solely on account of his own sufferings ; he should consider also the pain which his futile attempts at pronunciation must inflict on his friends, who are at all times fearful lest his articulation prove defective ; if regardless of himself, he surely ought to study the comfort of his family and his friends. In not curing himself, the stammerer does his utmost to perpetuate the disease in his own family. If the imitation of an indifferent person be so likely to occasion this disease, how much the more probable is it for this malady to be produced when the person imitated is one who is respected and esteemed ! It may be said in extenuation, that the stammerer inculcates the principle to his children that they are to imitate his good points only, and that they are particularly to avoid his manner of speaking : — this may be attempted, but it will not succeed. Imitation is a principle inherent in us ; man will continue to imitate until his nature is changed. How can the stammerer expect his children to accomplish that which was out of his own power? Could he avoid imitation ? Did he not imitate ? Then why is it that he expects his children to possess that exemption from imitation which he himself did not ? " Ancient medicine is deficient in information on stammering ; and what Hippocrates, Aristotle, and Galen have said is scarcely worthy of note. They are especially silent on the treatment : this is the more to be wondered at, since elocution opened the road to honours and the first dignities of the State." I differ, however, entirely from Mr. Bartlett when he advises patients suffering from imperfect articulation to practise reciting or reading Greek and Latin passages, rather than what he calls our " harsh and rugged English." I utterly deny that the English of good composition is either a "harsh or rugged" language, when properly read or spoken, unless 324 laNG'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIX. words of " harsh and rugged " sound be purposely introduced on the principle I have before adverted to, viz., that oi co?icord h&iwecn sound and sense — a principle that prevails in all languages' with which I have any acquaintance. It is a curious fact, but certainly my own experience warrants me in saying that very few, if any, stammerers or stutterers ever habituallv rightly and properly form or duly sustain their vowels in reading, and still less in speaking. I have noticed, also, that this defect is more gene- rally found, not only in northern nations as distinguished from southern, but also in inhabitants of the northern counties of our own island more frequently than in those of the south, and in the natives of Scotland oftener than in those of England and Ireland. On the other hand, I have remarked that in general they possess the counterbalancing advan- tage of articulating the consonants more firmly and distinctly. Persons who have been taught the art of singing, almost always sound the vowels and sustain them in reading or speaking better than those who have not acquired that accomplishment; and I have frequently advised, with manifestly good results, pupils of both sexes, who have laboured under impediments of speech, to take a course of lessons under a teacher of singing, while going through the method of treatment specially adapted to remove their individual defects in pronunciation. And now I enter on that branch of the subject to which this Lecture is more particularly directed, viz., the right method of overcoming and effectually removing all impediments of speech ; I venture to think that in comparatively slight cases, and where the malady is only just begin- ning, the regular and steady observance of the rules I am about to give will be amply sufficient to remove all difficulty in delivery. In more serious cases, and in cases of long standing, the aid of the experienced master who has given his time and careful attention to such subjects of study, should be sought without delay, that he by observation may ascertain what are the special parts of the vocal or articulating mecha- nism which are at fault, and point out to the patient what are the rules particularly applicable to his individual case, and which must be at all times and on all occasions observed and strictly carried out by him. And here let me, in the most emphatic manner, say that the removal of every variety of stammering and stuttering, as well as all other kinds of defective articulation, rests, after all, mainly in the ever-watchful self- vigilance, and daily and hourly care and practice of the patient himself. He must be taught to do that at first slowly, and consciously, which the person who has no sort of impediment or defect in speaking does easily and unconsciously. This must be done steadily and perscveringly, until an old bad habit is quite forgotten, and a new and good one is acquired so thoroughly as to form, as it were, "a second nature" with the patient. In my own practice with such cases I repudiate entirely the use of any sort of mechanical appliance, and I rely (provided, of course, that there is no cleft palate or other organic defect) upon a natural process of cure alone. In all such cases I am of opinion that Nature has but to be set to pursue her course in the right direction, and all difficulties in pronunciation will be eventually entirely removed. Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 325 But again I say most earnestly that all that the very best and most experienced teacher can do, is to ascertain what is the special cause of the impediment, and point out the right rules to be always observed by the patient for its removal. If the latter fail to observe them, he will most assuredly relapse ; but if he will only exercise ordinary patience and self-care and vigilance, and remember to carry out the right method he has been made acquainted with, as specially applicable to his individual case, he will as certainly reap the rich reward of possessing ere long perfect ease, self-possession, and fluency of speech at all times and upon all occasions. And with these words of encouragement, as well as warning, I proceed now to lay down the general RULES TO BE OBSERVED FOR THE REMOVAL OF STAMMERING, STUTTERING, AND OTHER IMPEDIMENTS OF SPEECH. In the first place, the patient should endeavour to acquire a habit of calm self-possession, and try to free the mind as far as possible, when in the presence of others, of all fear and trepidation, and avoid all excesses of any kind, and all undue causes of excitement. Secondly. — Before the patient who is labouring under stammering, stuttering, or any kind of impediment, attempts to speak or read, let him first t^nke care that the upper surface of the tongue is applied to the roof of the mouth immediately behind the front teeth, A calm, but at the same time thoroughly full and deep inspiration, will then cause the air to enter the lungs by its proper channel, viz., the air- passages of the nostrils ; the lungs will become then properly inflated, and the chest and ribs will rise and expand, so that the lungs will have ample room for the due performance of all their functions. It is perfectly certain that all articulation occurs only during the expiration of the air from the lungs in its outward passage through the windpipe, vocal cords, and mouth ; consequently, when the lungs are inade- quately inflated, and there is but a small quantity of air within them, there must necessarily be experienced a great difficulty in speaking. This can be tested readily enough. Let any person run a short distance at full speed, and then be asked at once to relate some story or read some book. He will find it is quite impossible for him to do so, and the chances are that he will not be able to pronounce half-a-dozen consecutive words. Why is this ? The answer is very short and simple. In common parlance, the runner, by reason of the violent exercise he has taken, is "out of breath ;" that is to say, he has not enough air in his lungs for the purpose of articulation. Now then let this exhausted runner rest a minute or two, and take a long and full inspiration, in the manner I have already sufficiently explained, and he will find then that he can speak or read with audibility and distinctness. Now here, in fact. Nature has been her own physician. Is it not the strongest proof of the vital importance it must be to the confirmed stammerer or stutterer, to thoroughly inflate his lungs in the proper way before he begins to speak or read at all, and at every proper pause in his discourse to avail himself systematically of the opportunity afforded of calmly, but adequately, in the same way of replenishing the lungs, and so 326 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIX. supplying them with a fresh supply of air in lieu of that which has been expended in the production of voice and speech ? Dr. Chervin of Paris, at the general meeting of the International Congress of Physicians, held in the autumn of 1878 at Amsterdam, in a paper which he read on Stammering, defined it as "the rhythm of respiration destroyed," and said that, with perseverance and attention on the part of the patient, it might be cured in three weeks. Thirdly. — In the act of speaking and reading, the patient must take care to control thoroughly the outward passage of the breath, and to let it escape as slowly as possible. The expiration should be thoroughly economised ; none of it should be wasted by letting any escape before the act of speech begins. It should not be allowed to come out in jerks or gasps, but its passage should be easy, steady, and gradual ; for it cannot be too firmly borne in mind that it is on the extension, combined with the regularity of expiration, that the intensity, the duration, and the steadiness of all vocal vibrations depend ; and Sehor Garcia's test of practising the voice with a lighted candle held before the mouth may be applied here. If the flame be extinguished, or even wavers much, the patient may take it as a sign that he is expending too much air. Fourthly. — I would impress on the patient who may be suffering under any kind of impediment of speech, the indispensable necessity that the greatest care and attention should be given that the lips, teeth, and tongue all perform strictly their several functions when employing the letters requiring the individual or combined use of them. For this purpose let the patient refer to the appendix I have added to this Lecture, in which he will find minute directions for the right formation of every letter in the alphabet, together with a copious series of exercises on every vowel or consonant singly or in combination. The great advantage, or rather I should say, the absolute and indispensable necessity, of observing this rule must be evident to every one who reflects on the subject for a moment ; for how can manifold and widely-different sounds be properly produced by the same structures, if the passage through which they have to pass be not modified in shape ? And yet it will be noticed many persons speak with a very loose action of the lips, and scarcely any perceptible alteration in their forms. Can it be wondered at that such persons are always feeble and indistinct in their delivery, and when they attempt to speak in public, are always very imperfectly heard, even by those who are near them ? It will be seen on referring to the appendix there are very many letters which can be sounded or articu- lated by no other means than a decided alteration in the form of the mouth, and equally marked change in the shape of the lips. Fifthly. — Having thoroughly been made to understand the precise formation and clear sound of every letter in the alphabet, next let the pupil compare, and form an accurate notion of, the corresponding sound which exists between the termination of each syllable or word, and the sound of the letter itself which so ends it, that he may thus conceive a proper idea of the sound to be produced ; as, for instance, "m" in the word " them," " n " in " then," " e " in " thee," " o " in " no," " x " in "rex," &c. Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 327 Sixthly. — Let the patient effectually conquer the bad habit which pre- vails so largely among those who stutter or stammer (I really think my own experience warrants me in saying in ninety-nine out of every hundred stammerers) of keeping the lips apart and the mouth open. Nothing can be worse hi every 7vay thaji this bad habit, either as regards the power of clear articulation and fluent speech, the proper condition of the lungs, or the vacant expression which it gives the countenance. I always tell all stammering pupils frankly, if I see they have this vile habit, that I can do very little, if anything, towards removing their various impediments until they have thoroughly conquered it, and acquired the habit of always keeping the lips firmly but easily pressed together; except, of course, when reading or speaking. Even in sleep, if possible, the mouth should always be kept closed, and the respiration only carried on through the air-passages of the nostrils. To all persons, whether affected with impediments of speech or not, I would say in the most earnest manner, acquire the habit of conducting the function of respiration always by the air-passages which lead from the nostrils ; never by means of the open mouth. If the reader would wish to see minutely in detail «//the good results which follow, and all the evils which are avoided, by acquiring this habit, I refer him again to the book I mentioned, lately published by Mr. George Catlin, the North American Indian traveller, entitled " The Breath of Life." * Seventhly. — This rule that I am about to give follows almost as a necessary corollary from the last. All persons, but more especially the stammerer, should acquire the habit of keeping the upper surface of the tongue, when not speaking, closely applied to the roof of the mouth, the point of the tongue being immediately behind the upper front teeth. When the tongue is so placed it is in the best possible situation for beginning to speak or read, for voice is produced by a slight depression, and hence articulation is much facilitated. Keeping the tongue at the bottom of the mouth, instead of placing it in the proper position as just described, is, I can assure the stammerer, one of the worst habits possible for him, or any one affected with impediments of speech. Stammerers anxious to pronounce a word beginning with a lingual immediately endeavour to do so without applying the tongue to the roof of the mouth. This being impossible, they struggle in vain to speak, and are wholly incapable of the slightest articulation. After the tongue has been rightly placed, and a good inspiration taken in the proper way, it is very far from usual to perceive much difficulty after the first syllable has been well and carefully articulated. It may be truly said here, that when not deficient in breath, '■'' c'est le premier pas qui cotlte^' with the stammerer or stutterer. Both may rest assured that it is perfectly impossible for them, or any one else, to articulate without strictly following out this direction, and therefore it is of the very utmost importance that it should be always borne in mind by those who have habitually any difficulty in articulation. The stam- merer, stutterer, and every one affected with any kind of defective articu- lation, should make it a matter of the most scrupulous care when silent to keep the tongue completely and closely applied to the roof of the * Triibner & Co.. Lundoa 328 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIX. mouth ; for when in this position, it is ready and able to perform all its functions most effectually, and with the greatest promptitude. If per- sons suffering from impediments of speech will only bear in mind this direction, they will spare themselves all those distressing spasmodic convulsions of the tongue, lips, and sometimes the whole countenance, which are almost as painful to the spectator to witness as they are to the sufferer to endure. Eighthly. — Let the patient who has any kind of difficulty or impedi- ment in speech, most scrupulously avoid all hasty, careless shirring of words. He must give every syllable that is long its proper quantity, by dwelling on the vowel sound in it, and also avoid making any syllable which is short improperly long. Especially should he observe the great law of poise, and make every syllable that is heavy really so by the due weight or percussion of the voice on it, and let the corresponding reaction be equally perceptible on the syllable that is light. I refer the patient to what I have said already on the necessity of properly using the mechanism of the action and reaction of the larynx for thoroughly carrying out and duly maintaining this poise in all speaking and reading. Ninthly. — I earnestly advise all persons with impediments of speech, whether confirmed stammerers and stutterers, or only just beginning to hesitate, to be very slow and deliberate in reading and speaking, espe- cially at first. Among the large number of patients whom I have had under my care for the removal of all kinds of impediments and difficul- ties in articulation, I have met with but very few who did not habitually speak with painful rapidity, and at times almost breathless haste, until they are suddenly stopped in mid career of their impetuous speech by the impediment suddenly coming on. By a spasmodic effort, eventually they recover their power of articulation, and rattle on with their hurried words until they are once more arrested in the same way, in the very midst of a word, perhaps ; and so they go on to the pain and distress of themselves and those whom they are addressing. In the life of Charles Kingsley, recently published, will be found a most sensible letter addressed to a young lady, who laboured under an impediment of speech, which concludes by telling her above all things to take care in reading and speaking {until the impediment is quite overcome) to be " SLOW — SLOW — SLOW." It is well known that the late Canon Kingsley in early life was a great sufferer from stammering, and was cured by the late Dr. Hunt. Tenthly. — Let the stammerer, in speaking, have the word he intends to use in his mind before he attempts to utter it with his mouth. In fact, the mind, in speaking, should always be trained to be in advance of the lips. No person should attempt to speak a single sentence until he knows thoroughly beforehand what it is that he intends to say, and the choice of words being mentally made, he should then pronounce them firmly and deliberately. Let the patient begin to acquire confidence by practising reading aloud first, then recitation from memory, and lastly, a short extempore discourse on some subject. Then let him repeat the same series of exercises in the same order to one or two friends, and as his confidence in himself increases, it would be desirable to increase the Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 329 number of his audience. By these means he will find his difficulties gradually disappear, and ease, fluency, and self-possession will take the place of hesitation, timidity, and self-distrust. It is right to mention that Dr. Coen of Vienna, who has acquired a great Continental reputation for his successful treatment of stammering, stuttering, and other defects of speech, strongly advises the use of Ling's Swedish system of gymnastics as a most valuable accessory to all elocu- tionary treatment of the various causes which hinder fluency of speech ; and in doing so he necessarily implies that the whole muscular system requires bracing. Dr. Shuldham also, in the last edition of his work on " Stammering and its Treatment," states that he, too, makes use of the movement-cure, when it is specially indicated, and in addition advises his patients to take strong exercise in the open air. In the advisability of such accessories being employed, I most thoroughly concur. It is impossible for the nervous and muscular systems not to be greatly strengthened by such exercises when gradually and judiciously carried out. Dr. Shuldham mentions also that great importance is given by Dr. Coen to elocutionary treatment of defects of speech, and that, as valuable accessories to such treatment, he makes use, when he deems it advisable, of electricity and the water-cure. SUPPLEMENT TO LECTURE XIX. The Functions of the Vocal and Speech Organs in the formation of all tlie various letters of the English alphabet, singly and in combination — Full Tables of Exercises for Practice, as applicalsle to Stammerers, Stutterers, and all persons suffering from any kind of Defective or Imperfect Articulation. S an appendix to the forgeoing Lecture on impediments and defects of speech, I subjoin the following series of exercises on the various consonants and vov^'els, singly and in combina- tion, selected from various sources, but chiefly from the large edition (1820) of the treatise on Elocution, by the late Mr. B. H. Smart, the daily practice of the pronunciation of which will be found most useful to persons labouring under defective articulation, and will contribute much to firmness and fluency of speech. PRONUNCIATION. As the following exercises are intended, not for acquiring the pronun- ciation of our language, but for improving it, the consonants are brought forward before the vowels, because the most usual defects of utterance may chiefly be traced to them. And as an alphabetical arrangement of consonants would not be accompanied with any advantage, the following order, which has been found a convenient one, is preferred : /;, w,y, ng, s, and z, sh and its correspondent vocal, /and v, th and its correspondent vocal, /, m, 91, r, p, and b, k and g, /, and d. In reading ihe praxes on these sounds, the pupil must be careful to form each consonant with strong compressive force, and those formed with the voice should be made distinct from those formed with the breath. To know what sounds are represented, these two directions should be constantly in view : 1. The letter or letters denoting the sound exemplified, are iji italic. 2. When a letter or letters denote the sound exemplified aiid something more, they are printed in capital. The pronouncing of detached words may be so conducted as to be a very useful preparatory training of the ear and of the voice. As words unconnected in sense require no particular tone, the student will, if left to himself, sometimes adopt an upward, sometimes a downward inflec- tion, according to the impulse of the moment ; that is to say, if he read them in quick succession, the idea of continuation will induce him to pronounce each with a conjunctive inflection ; if he read them slowly, Lect. XIX.] KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. 331 the pause after each will probably determine him to employ the dis- junctive. Let it be his object to acquire the power of uttering the one or the other of these inflections at pleasure. This will, at first, be attended with no slight difificulty : though determined, perhaps, to use the downward inflection, the idea of continuation will prevail, and cause him to use the other in spite of himself: being sensible of his failure, he will make a second trial, and probably imagine because he has pro- nounced the word in a lower or softer tone, that he has altered the inflection : this, however, does not necessarily follow ; for the same inflection may be pitched very high or very low, and it may be uttered very gently or very forcibly. To avoid these mistakes, he must, during some time, use the following form of a question as a test : — Did I say strange or strknge ? By this he will be instinctively impelled to utter the word, first, with an upward then with a downward slide, and to know, by comparison, in which manner he had previously uttered it. After some time the ear will become familiar with the slides, and the test may be laid aside. Having them now entirely at command, he must exercise his voice in carrying them, as far as possible, from one extreme to the other, something in the manner of a singer running the gamut from low to high, and high to low. Let him also vary their motion, making them sometimes rapid and sometimes slow. Such an exercise on detached words will probably be thought a little ridiculous, but the student may rest confident of its utility. It will not only give him a clear feeling of the kind of tones he ought to use, but will add flexibility to his voice, and remove from it any unpleasant monotony ; for what is called a monotonous voice, is not, in fact, a voice that never gets above or below one musical key, but one which is incapable of taking a sufficient compass in its inflections. The same exercises may be made to serve another purpose, namely, the gradual training of the speaker to the due preservation of rhyihmus. Lists of unconnected words, in pronouncing which there can be no danger of sacrificing sense to sound, seem to offer the best introduction to systematic practice on this subject ; and accordingly, the lists are arranged for this purpose among others, by keeping together, as much as possible, words of similar accentuation. In pronouncing these, the returns of accent will be regular, and the student is desired to mark each return by beating time with his hand, observing to make a pause of equal duration between each word, regulated by the beating of the hand. At the end of the praxis on each consonant, an exercise on Liter- junction is given. h. The sound denoted by this letter consists merely in a forcible expulsion of the breath. In the following exercise, it is judged advisable to intermingle words in which the sound is not required with others that demand it, that the pupil may become secure both in the use of it and in the omission. In some words h is quite silent ; namely, in heir, honest, honour, hour, and all the derivatives. These will be known by the letter not being in italic. In a few words, namely, those in which letter follows •vh, the sound generally denoted by h alone is denoted hy the two letters -mH, which will be known by both letters being in italic. If the w is not in italic, it must* have its 332 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIX. proper sound, which must follow, and not precede, the forcible expulsion of breath signified by h. //all all aunt //aunt who art heir //air hour //ew //uge rc/zole w//ale w//eat w//ig //eathen //ydra honest //umble //uman //umour w/zolly honour w//irlpool w//imper //ostler «'//olesome co//ort //ot//ouse //arts//orn //ereout //erein //ereon //arangue be//ind per//aps inert in//ale ab//or //armony artichoke //umanise //udibras humorous hospital ve//ement co//obate be//emoth //eteroclite //eterodox //ospitable //ydromancy //orticulture //ieroglyphical incompre/zensible //ypochondriacal //elio- centrical. He-//ad-learned-the-7£'//ole-art-of-angling by-//eart. Be-honest //umble and-//umane //ate-not-even-your-enemies. The-portrait-of-an-old-w//ig in-a-bro\vn-wig. With-many-a-weary-step and-many-a-groan Up-a-//igh-//ill //e-//eaved a-//uge-round-stone. w: y. These letters, when at the beginning of words or syllables, denote consonants, the former of which consists in a forcible action of the lips when in the position to utter the vowel generally denoted by oo ; and the latter in a forcible action of the under jaw when the organs are placed to sound e. Both these sounds are occasionally denoted by other characters, which the pupil will discover by the letters in italic. With the examples other words are mingled, that the reader may make the sound he is practising clearly distinct from those with which it is in danger of being confounded. W. 7£'ay 7£'aft One Once who 7<:'oo 7C'ain vane vine rcine hood w/ood wcAi K'omb wo ooze whose woos saloon s?/ite b//oy q?^ake chcir th7£/art «.'oman wolsey woo^x 7£'orm7<:'ood f-or7£/ard frozt'ard quorum qz^agmire c?/irass. A-7fight 7£/ell-versed-in-7f-'aggery. Give-me-free-air or-I-soon-shall-s7£'oon. He-7£'ooed-the-7f>oman but-she-Z£'Ould-not-7C'ed. j^awn _)'ell he yt jvean hear ear jear jield j^ou U Use hUge nEW dUke tUne -j'early jvouthful j(^ew-tree Useful HUmour span/el mill/on gen/i pon/ard as/a nausea roseate indian odious dUty tUEsday. ye-are-stUd/bus-to-vit/ate. The-nEW-tUne sUIts-the-dUke. Fouth with-ill-H Umour is-od/ous, Last-jear I-could-not-hear with-either ear. The consonant usually denoted by ng is a simple sound, quite distinct from the sound of either « or g when alone. It consists in an utterance of the voice througli tlie nose, while the back part of the tongue gently touches the correspondent part of the palate. The common fault in sounding these letters is, pronouncing them as « Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION'. 333 alone. But in avoiding this fault, the learner must not run into the other, and articu- late the g, unless custom has assigned the g to the following syllable ; for then the g must be sounded, and the n in the foregoing syllable pronounced as ng. These cases will be known among the examples by the n alone being in italic. gSifig Y\ng ?,Y>r\ng snng young \engih. stre;?^th ba«k si«k co;/ch hQing nothi«^ writi;/^ readiw^- smger hx'mger ha.nging hrbigbig robin robbi;/','' chopin choppi;/§" matin matti;;^'' a«ger a;/guish co;/'gress co//course a;zxious anchor banquet disti;/guish extiz/guish unthi;«king diphtho;/gal triph- tho//gal anxiety. Readi/^^i^'-and-writi;;^ are-arts-of-striki;/o--importance ; danc'vig draw- ing and-si;;^i«§- bei//^-all-accomplishnients are-deservi;/f-of-less-regard. Alexander-at-a-ba/?quet with-a-co«course-of-flatterers overcome-by- a/;ger, led-by-a-co//cubine, is-a-stro;;g-example that-he-who-co;/quers-ki;/g- doms may-have-neglected-the-more-noble-co;2quest-of-himself. s and z. The consonants properly denoted by these letters are formed by touching the upper gum of the lower front teeth with the tip of the tongue, — using, for the former, an utterance of breath, which forces its way at the point, and produces a hissing ; and, for the latter, an utterance of voice, which forces its way in a similar manner, and produces a buzzing noise. It should be remembered that the letter s is always vocal when, in forming a plural, or the third person of a verb, it comes after a vocal sound. The other cases in which it is vocal are frequent ; but they must be gathered from practice, aided by a pronouncing dictionary. gai' vi\2iss doi'e mar^ grieff laughj- monthi- vewe dupcy pack.y laX styX \\CiS\.s ^s\.s ghoi"t.s" .soil rell scqwq sda^vix psz\.vi\ apj"i.y the^ii' quei'tion tarit pin^rers flaccid j-reptre ir/^edule /i'almist /j-yche prei'ide de.fijrts dcyign obei'e vei"bo5^ine. The-weak-eyed-bat With-s//ort-s/;rill-s/zriek flits-by-on-leathern-wing. Deep-echoing-groan-the- forests-brown, Then-rus/Hng crackling cras//ing thunder-down. The-string let-fly Twanged-s//ort-and-s//arp like-the-s//rill-swallow's-cry. THE CORRESPONDENT VOICE SOUND. rasure clausure leisure roseate fus/bn treasure measure vis/on Gelid perjure refuGE Jejune solDier granDeur verDure bad^i? ed^^ rid^^ aGEdoGE huGE Jade Jar Gem obliGEd divulGEd exchanGEd Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 335 suGGest persuai'/on adhe5'/on explo^/on confuj/on immeDiate deci- iv'on coUu/on- indiviDual aGGeration. He-wants-both-leuure-and-occai-ion. A-ro^-eate-blush with-soft-suffuj'/on DivulGEd her Gentle-mind's-confuj-Zon, f and V. The consonants properly denoted by these two letters are formed by pressing the upper teeth upon the under lip, and using an utterance of breath for the former, and of voice for the latter. Letter b is pronounced v in of, but not in thecompounds whereof, &c. Ph are gene- rally pronounced as^ but in nephew and Stephen as v, and in diphthcng, &c., as p, /. dea.f ruff chsfe ca//]aug/i toug/t chou^/it nymp/i sy\f>/i fry p/nase sf/i'inx fifth p/na.\ ff/irensy pro/it dea/en rou^//en o/ten sq//en epita/>^ //;aeton //frenetic /ebri/uge. But-vvith-the-whi^and-\vind-of-that;/ell-swoid The-unnerved /ather-/alls. Mild-he-was-with-the-mild - But-w/th-the;/ro\vard he-was^erce-as;/ire. He^/illed-the-drau^/^t and-/reely-qua^d And-pu^d-the;;;^agrantyume and-lau^vied. V. pave we2Lve \)\ve groz/i? ha/z'' /ove/y me/on so/ace cas/Z? ax/e evil gxovcl cripp/^' ab/^ tack/^ shekt'/ tit/f need/if. Nor-cast-one-/onging /ingering-/ook-behind. Zet-Caro/ina-smooth-the-/iquid-/ay Zu//-with-Ame/ia's-/iquid-name-the-nine And-sweet/v-f/ow-through-a//-the-roya/-/ine. m. gum blame realm charw rhythw law^ cow/' y^omb calm hymn phlegm drachm iamme moment mammon solemn temp>ter empty momen- tary ;//a;;nllary ;«atri;«ony. Pale-welancholy-sat-retired and In-notes-by-distance-wade-;//ore-sweet Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 337 Poured-through-the-wellow-horn her-pensive-soul Through-glades-and-gloows the-wingled-measure stole and Round-a-holy-ca/m-diffusing Love-of-peace and-lonely-wusing In-hollow-;/mr;«urs died-away. n. rmn noon noun nine stolen (aWen swollev^ harn mour;; name gnarl gnaw /Cv/eel ^nock deign si^^n linen banner foreign lessen Haxen frozen cousin reason deafen often roughs;; even heath^« shapi?;/ oaken wheat^« hriion dead^« nuncupative nonentity unanimous. To-talk-of-«onentity annihilated was-certainly nonsensical-enough. When-lightning-and-dread-thunder Rend-stubborn-rocks-asunder And monarch's-die-with-wonder What-should-we-do ? the rouofh r. ;-ay raw ;7/eum 7f'rap Wfy fry pray b;-ay crape grape tray dray shrill shriek shroud throw throng— — raiment rampart rhubarb wrestle ph;-enzy christian ;ural around erect enrich rebel refine regu- lacor rumination memorandum sudorific repercussion repetition. i?end with-tremendous-sound your-ears-asunder With-gun-d;-um-trumpet blunderbuss-and-thunder. Approach-thou like-the rugged-russian-bear The-armed-;'/anoceros. Blow-wind come-wrack. Queen-Mab d;-ums-in-his-ears At-which-he-starts and-wakes. The-madding-wheels Of-b;'azen-fury-raged. the smooth r. bar err fir nor cur hare here hire core pure hour terse force marsh scarf swerve heanh pearl arm learn carp ga;'b dark cart card herd pardon warden mercy virtue mo/'/gage co/^nel commerce defer debar affair appear expire ado;'^ demurs. Wounds-he^'-fair-ear. Thine this-universal-frame thus-wondrous-fair. Vi?tue's-fair-form. What-man-da;-^ I-dar*?. Ah-fear ah-frantic-fear I-see I-see-thee-near Like-thee-I-start like-thee disordered-fly.* * As regards the different varieties of the letter R, see Dr. Kellogg's letter at the end of this supplement to Lecture XIX. Y 338 KING 'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XIX. p and b ; k and^; / and d. Tlie consonants proper to these letters are generally called mutes ; which epithet is, however, with less propriety applied to the latter of each pair than to the former. In pronouncing /, k, and t, the breath, being checked and confined, is not heard till the organs separate explosively to give it vent : — in pronouncing b, g, and d, the voice is confined in a similar manner ; but an obscure murmur should nevertheless be heard, which, in practising, the learner should endeavour to prolong, and make as audible as possible. In / and b, the lips join ; in k and g, the back part of the tongue meets the correspondent palate ; and in t and d^ the tip of the tongue touches the upper gum. And a just utterance of any one of these consonants requires a forcible and active separation of the organs in completing it. Lk are pronounced as k after a and o. CIi are pronounced as k in words from the Greek language, as sh in words from the French, and as tsh in words more purely English. G is generally sounded as / before e and i, but there are many exceptions. D in the termination ed when the e is silent, and the preceding sound is a breath consonant, is necessarily pronounced as t ; but in reading the Scriptures and the Liturgy, this omission of e should rarely take place. p\p fiipQ popQ ras/ whel/ vam/ shar/ p'xppm sli//er proper stee/^le topple di//;thong tri//^thong na///tha shepherd -/uritan /o/ulous tur/itude /a/acy /abular o//;thalmy. After-moving-equably-for-some-timeit-was-made-to-sto/ with-a-sudden- sna/. Zeal then not-charity became-the-guide And-hell-was-built-on-s/ite and-heaven-on-/ride. A-/ert-/rim-/rater of-the-northern-race Guilt-in-his-heart and-famine-in-his-face. Abuse-the-city's-best-good-men-in-metre And-laugh-at-/eers that /ut-their-trust-in-/eter. Here-files-of-/ins extend-their-shining-rows ./\iffs^wders-/atches bibles-billets-doux. cu^ ebb \.wbe bib ^ebe bzbe bnlb baxb bwoy bine accum/!' reverb im^^ue errii^ark disi^urse ca<5al baboon ai^rogate fa<5ulous e^^ony o<^stacle bar- /;'arous ^ar^ican. The-i^ari^arous-Hu^ert-took-a-Zrii^e To-kill-the-royal-(5'a(^^. And-no\v-a-(^U/^^le-(^urst and-now-a-\vorld. Earth-smiles-around with-(^oundless-<^ounty-/^lessed And-heaven ^eholds-its-image-in-his-/^reast. The-south-sea-^uMe put-the-pu(^lic-in-a-hu/'/m/^ Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 339 k. see/^ C'sJie coZ'^ pa^r-^' X.Tick &ke ta/X' iolk \o\igh ^^xque ^zxk mil/5 spar<5 -^een Car r/i!ord ^//ay ^«a-('^ dear aape panir comi^: /kingdom (randid r/^oler conquer ^/a'istian flaccid rollorate (rali^o ai^umber te(r/mi5 .ra^e-of-airious-^uality. Blow-wind, come-wrack, At-least-we'U-die-with-harness-on-our-back, With-the-rold-^ution of-a-5-clir,^ed. hag keg egg gag plague vague teague- rogue brogue guide guise gear gird gigg/iost guerdon ragged cra^g^y gibbous ^niblet ^/zastly ^Aerkin. He-^ave-a-^z/inea and-he-^ot-a-^roat. I-cannot-di^ and-am-ashamed-to-be^. A-^iddy-^^^lin^-^irl her-kinsfolks'-plao//i? Her-manners-vul^ar and-her-converse-va^;/^. L pa/ We dus/ haf/ hal/ dream/ flir/ /igh/ /augh/ /rash //^yme ///ames yac/il debt laced danced? chaf^^ laughi?^ chopp^^ wreck^^ ma//er /a//er /e//er /i//er as//^ma phf/nsis phtJa%\c flourish.?^ practis^^ /estamen/ /i/illa/e des/i/u/e /e/rical /aci/urn /an/amoun/ /u/elar /oge/her /es/a/or inde^^/ed indi^/ment a//ainmen/ in/es/a/e replenishi?^. The /emp/er saw-his-/ime. A-/ell-/ale-ta//ling-/ermagan/ tha/-troubled all-the-/own. He-/alk^^ and-stamp^i/ and-chaf' grfat ^ieak vmis d^/gn- asia nation angel danger hasten ancient chamber pla/ntive nving b^som sorely ihxoughly impr£?ve recrwit \mhxue can^^ gamboge. ^^ as in itiW (shut). p«ll huW iuW put puss push ruth would could sho^^/d wolf wood foot soot hook look pz^Uey b?^lly fuller Fz^lham ruthless pulpit b?^tcher cz^hion s//gar c?^ckoo w^man W(?lsey. THE VOWEL SOUND DENOTED BY 01 OR OY (oPEN). oil hroil point choice voice noise toy hoy joy troy huoy employ emhroil app^mt Siroynt avoid aXloy decoy. THE VOWEL SOUND DENOTED BY OU OR OW (oPEn). loud hound noun shout thou plough hough now how hrown vow b'ramid. 0. torrid c^ral foreign fl(?rid. u. \\uixy c?/rry s^rup. THE VOWELS UNACCENTED. I. — THE OPEN VOWELS UNACCENTED. ist, final in a syllable. a. abase baboon cabal alpha villa comma china (fject esteem become believe d/vest d/vorce d/lute effect efface dirtj lately sundaj* journ^_v plag?/_y appetite beniffice sim/le rec/pe parl/a- ment min/ature proph^cjK ci-vWity d/dacz't^ r/g/dity vzcinztj- v/vac/t_>' ^pitom^ P^nelop^ g^ographjv gfom^trj'. /dea h/atus dmrnal b?dental clzmacter g/gantic n/grescent citation pr/meval qualify dignify occup_y multiply prophesy zrascible itinerant b/pennated b/ography hj'pothenuse cibarious c/licious p/ratical rivality. m^tto sob salv<7 thor^^^^^ {nxXough ?,orro7ii barrow ieWow wind^^w pn^fane romance ^bey prs obsequzVs noveltzVs. 0. command conduce complete postillion combustion. u. hubbub cherz^b garnet surpl/^s mammoth parrot blossom nat/on felon demon tendon sermon waggon mucoz/s pio//s factio?/s vacuum occipz^t unison myrmidon covetoz^s^ decorz^m decis/on horison herbaceoz^s umbrageo//s ambitio//s. III. THE VOWELS UNACCENTED BEFORE K. grammar robbi?r nad/r martjr author sulphz/r acr^. Condudhig Exercise in Interjtmction. The-ineligibility-of-the-preliminaries-is-unparalleled. Such-individual-irregularities-are-generally-irremediable. He-acted-contrarily-to-the-peremptory-injunctions-that-were-given, We-alienate-many-by-requiting-a-few with-supernumerary-gratuities. Let-the-words-of-my-mouth and-the-meditations-of-my-heart be-always- acceptable-unto-thee. Discipline-your-temper not-submitting-to-it-as-a-master but-governing- it-as-a-servant. Rising-simultaneously-at-the-irreverential-mention-of-their-leader's- name they-swore-revenge. An-inalienable-eligibility-of-election which-was-of-an-authority-that could-not-be-disputedrendered-the-interposition-of-his-friends altogether- supererogatory. Note. — The characteristics of a living language are that its ortho- graphy and its orthoepy are almost always slowly changing. A very decided movement of late years has been made towards the improve- ment and simplification of English spelling, notably by Professor Max Miiller, A. J Ellis, H. Morris, A. H. Sayce, E. Jones, I. Pitman, T. Pagliardini, G. Withers, and others. I3ut among the most recent works are two by Dr. George Harley, F.R.S., &c., which may well be consulted by those who take an interest in the subject. The first is Lect. XIX.] ON ELOCUTION. 345 entitled " The Simplification of English Spelling" (Triibner & Co., Ludgate Hill), and the other, " National Spelling Reform : a Letter to Lord Beaconsfield " (Hodgson h. Son, Gough Square, Fleet Street). Should the suggestions in these two interesting works be carried out, a modification in the pronunciation of many English words must, I think, eventually take place. In regard to the letter R, I append an interesting letter I have received from an eminent physiologist of New York, Dr. Kellogg, with which he has obligingly favoured me : — "July \st, 1878. " During a conversation we had on the physiology of the production of certain sounds, you said you would make mention, in the next edition of your ' Elocution,' of views I then expressed as to the letter R, and I repeat them therefore in writing, hoping you will do me the kindness to criticise such points as you may not think tenable. " I recognise three distinct forms of the letter R in English, viz., the lingual, the laryngeal, and the uvular R. "The lingual R is formed by the contact and vibration of the tongue at points of the upper gum and hard palate variously distant from the front teeth. There is no doubt a growing tendency to give more force and duration to this sound, though, as yet, it seems to me that the best usage does not allow the contact to be made and broken more than twice, or three times at the most, " An interesting variety of this R is effected by the vibration of the lips, which give a much finer finish to the sound than can be otherwise obtained. As I have met with no mention of this in the course of my reading, I venture to call it the labial R. It occurs more specially after labial and explosive consonants, as/ and b^ and in such a combination of letters the French often give it very distinctly, e.g., the words ' les brunes, les prunes,' &c. It is rare in English, though I have observed it in the word ' pretty ' and in similar relations of consonants. " The laryngeal R, or the soft R of most writers, seems to have been erroneously and conflictingly described as due to the vibration of the back part of the tongue, of the soft palate, and of the uvula. It is my belief that none of these parts are immediately concerned in the forma- tion of this letter, but thai it is produced in the larynx solely, and by the vibration of the vocal cords. I am not aware that any English autho- rity has ever held any similar theory. German physiologists have, how- ever, recognised this formation of the soft R in their language. My view of the laryngeal R is also supported by the analogy of Slavic dialects, in which this R is given simultaneously with lingual consonants, showing that the tongue could not be engaged in its formation, " The uvular R when purely formed is the result of the vibration of the uvula alone, and it may resemble the lingual R so closely as to be mistaken for it. When the soft palate is allowed to vibrate, the sound becomes less pure and more guttural, "The uvular R is a foreign sound, though I have met Englishmen who formed it. 346 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. [Lect. XIX. " Frenchmen and Germans, on the other hand, not unfrequently use it, and I have seen cases where it was habitually produced to the entire exclusion of the lingual R ; and it seems almost impossible to acquire the latter where there has been a long confirmed habit of the former. " I do not speak of the other varieties of the letter R, as I believe the lingual, labial, laryngeal, and uvular formations of this latter to be the only ones employed by English-speaking people. — Very faithfully yours, "THEO. H. KELLOGG." ^M S ^^M ^ i LECTURE XX. Public Reading generally — /Resume of former directions in regard to Attitude, Manage- ment of the Breath, &c., as applicable specially to Reading Aloud — Common mistakes pointed out that should be avoided — Various kinds of Reading — How Poetry should be read — Ordinary faults in reading Poetry — The monotonous and the " sing-song " styles — How to be Corrected — Reading of the Bible — How it ought to be read — Reading the Church Services and Prayers — Prose Readings generally — Dramatic Reading — Use of Referential Gesture. PROPOSE in this Lecture to treat on public reading gene- rally, reserving public speaking for a separate subject of dis- course. I assume that the pupil has made himself acquainted theoretically and practically with the chief elements of the art which it is my province to teach within these walls. I assume that he knows what is the normal position the reader or speaker should adopt for the purpose of having all the vocal and speech organs best under control, and that he knows what is the right method of taking breath into the lungs, thoroughly, quietly, and almost silently and imper- ceptibly, l>y the nostrils and the ?iostrils only, as I have shown you all how to do. At the risk of being charged with repetition, I mention this, and urge it upon you once more, because the advantages are so great and manifold that they can scarcely be exaggerated. Numbers of clergymen who have been my pupils, and originally were liable to con- stant attacks of " clerical sore-throat," cough, hoarseness, and other affections of the throat and chest, have told me that they have quite lost these troublesome, and sometimes dangerous, maladies ; some have gone so far as to say the proper acquisition of the art of so breathing has been the means of annually saving them heavy doctors' bills, and some have even told me they are convinced it has been the means of saving their lives. Amongst the last was one of the leading bishops, scholars, and preachers of the day, as distinguished as the head-master of one of our greatest pubHc schools, as he is beloved and revered by all who know him personally. Eminent members of both Houses of Parlia- ment, leading men at the bar, and other public speakers, have also told me that the acquisition of this secret, as it once was, has been of incalculable value in giving them personal ease, comfort, and self- possession, all of which, of course, contribute so much to fluency of speech, and general efficiency in delivery. Not only does the voice become wonderfully improved in fulness and roundness of tone, but the advantages which follow in a sanitary and physiological point of. 348 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XX. view are great as they are numerous. For them all in detail I refer you once more to Mr. George Catlin's book, "The Breath of Life." * So, then, I assume that you have acquired thoroughly the art of managing the breath, not only as regards the act of inspiration, but also that of properly controlling it in the act of expiration, when reading or speaking. I assume, too, that you have become acquainted with the leading principles of inflection, modulation, emphasis, and poise ; that all impediments of speech or defective articulation, if any, have been conquered, and that your tone is tolerably firm and pure, your articula- tion distinct, and your delivery easy and fluent. Assuming, too, that you have had little experience in facing public assemblies, and are desirous of acquiring confidence, and becoming accustomed to the sound of your own voice in a tolerably large hall, I advise you to make your first essay in the art of public reading, by getting your name put down as one of the readers at one of those excellent and popular enter- tainments now to be found in almost every parish, in town and country, called " Penny Readings." These were first established by a society called "The Public Reading Society," under the auspices of the late Lord Brougham as president, in the year 1858, and to which, in conjunction with my lamented friend the late Mr. Serjeant Cox, I had the honour of being appointed honorary secretary. I strongly recommend such a course, because I am convinced the art of reading well in public is the foundation of the art of speaking well in public ; for it is almost needless to observe that the same expressions of emo- tion, the same modulation and inflection of voice, the same use of poise and emphasis are required when you express your own thoughts in your own language, as are necessary when you utter the ideas of another in his language. And hence it is that I consider public reading to be such an excellent " stepping-stone " to public speaking. In the first place, then, I propose giving such general instructions as are applicable to all reading aloud, and then in the next place to con- sider the different classes of reading a little more in detail. You will bear in mind what I said respecting the position best adapted for the production of purity of tone and general fluency of pronunciation. Remember, whether you sit or stand to read (and I think for all public reading the latter position is to be preferred), that the chest is freely expanded and the arms well thrown back, so as to allow the freest possible expansion of the chest, and consequent full room for the thorough inflation of the lungs. Keep the head, too, erect, and avoid all constriction of the larynx by bending the neck, or any kind of tight collar, or other ligatures round the throat. By adopting all these precautions, you will not only allow all the vocal and speech organs to perform their various and important functions with the greatest possible freedom and ease to themselves, but the words pronounced will be sent forth both audibly and distinctly, so as to reach even those of the audience that are farthest removed from you. Let me caution you that, if neglecting these preliminaries, you stoop or lean forward, bending over the pages of your book, you cannot possibly take a full and deep * Triibner & Co., London. Lect. XX.] ON ELOCUTION. 349 inspiration ; you cannot produce either a pure tone, or properly inflect or modulate the voice; the breath cannot be managed rightly, and instead of the sound-wave of your voice being freely and properly sent forth so as to reach the most distant of your audience, it will fall upon the pages you are reading and be reflected back to yourself, and your delivery will be more or less muffled, confused, and indistinct. To illustrate the right and wrong positions for public reading, I call the attention of the student in Elocution to the two figures subjoined, which he will do well to bear in mind, and learn habitually to adopt the one and avoid the other. Ris'ht attitude. Wfonp attitude. To read easily and pleasantly to yourselves, and effectively to your audience, remember that the mind must ever be in advance of the tongue. How is this best to be done ? Well, then, first of all take care that the book you are reading is placed at such an angle below you that the eye may readily fall upon the sentence, or clause of the sentence, convey its meaning to the mind, and then be read out to your auditors, not keeping your eyes fixed on the page, but looking at the persons to whom you are reading. 356 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XX. It is ,in this power of the eye to grasp many words or even Hnes at once in a single glance that one of the secrets of effective reading chiefly consists. Of course practice is required to cultivate this to perfection, but you will be astonished and delighted to find how rapidly you will attain proficiency in this branch of the art by culture and experience ; and at last you will be enabled with a single glance to seize not merely one or two liiies of the work you are reading, but the general meaning of a whole sentence. If you desire to mar the effect of the finest passages that were ever written, or to render the liveUest and most inspiring passages tame, flat, dull, and dead, you have but to hold the book close before your face, never raise your eyes from it, and let the voice strike against the pages, and be reflected back to yourself, and you will succeed thoroughly in accomplishing your aim. But there is another advantage in having the book belotv you in the way I have explained, for an audience must be able to look at you, as well as be regarded by you, if you would secure their attention. A good reader does not merely convey to his listeners audibly and dis- tinctly the sound of the words he is reading, but he does much more. He makes the ideas and emotions of the author he is reading so thoroughly his own, that by the judicious use of the various principles of the art of Elocution, in reference to inflection, modulation, and poise, he is able to convey them fully to his listeners, and awaken that sympathy between them and himself of which every good and effective reader is conscious at the time, but which it is so difficult to define. Reading, in fact, should be made so like actual speaking, that a person in an adjoining room, who could hear but not see, should be unable to discriminate between them. And now, after these general preliminary remarks, applicable, of course, to all kinds of reading, I proceed next to offer such suggestions as my experience enables me to present, in reference to the reading of the various kinds of composition which are most usually met with ; and of these I take poetry first. There are two very common but glaring mistakes in reading poetry, of which it is difficult to say which is most offensive to the cultivated mind and refined ear. The one is reading it almost exactly like ordinary level prose, paying no attention to, and wholly disregarding, time, rhythm, metre, and everything else. The other is, if I may use the term, the sing-song style, such as one may perhaps remember to have heard, commonly in its worst form, in our parish churches or chapels, in the days when parish clerks were wont to give out the first verse of the hymns that were to be sung. This style may, I think, be usually traced to a habit acquired in very early life, often in the very nursery, by the baby rhymes the child is taught to repeat. The fact is, the child chants his earliest nursery rhymes in this sing-song fashion, as he has been taught to repeat them, and is allowed to do so without being corrected by others, and hence I believe the foundation is laid of a habit which subsequent incompetent teachers will but too probably confirm, from having had the same training, and which really to unlearn will most probably require the aid of a judicious and tasteful master, and Lect. XX.] ON ELOCUTION. 351 the devotion of much time and patience on his part, as well as that of the pupil. In fact, in nothing more than in reading poetry is the aid required either of a good master, or of the illustration of the example of an acknowledged good reader. If the ear of the pupil be delicate and sensitive, much benefit will often follow from the practice of attending readings of the poets, when they are given by persons of admitted excellence and taste. However, I may point out some common errors, the due avoidance of which, to- gether with the attendance on really good public readings of poetry, will do much to enable a student to acquire a correct and elegant style. Avoid, then, that regular pause of equal duration which so many unskil- ful readers are in the habit of making at the end of every line, no matter whether the sense of the passage requires it or not. The observance of the leading principles of inflection, modulation, and poise will also do much to cure all monotonous reading of poetry. Appropriate changes of time are also very important in this respect, and every feeling or emotion must be duly made apparent, and as a general rule I would say, do not fear — at all events at first — seeming perhaps to yourself to exaggerate a little ; for in our country at least, the prevailing tendency undoubtedly is to be too tame, dull, inanimate, and lifeless in reading, rather than to be too full of spirit and vivacity. Of prose readings let me take first, as immeasurably superior in im- portance to all, that of the Bible. I have classed it under the head of prose, though really in ideas, language, and beauty of rhythm, in our noble English version of it, it might in many parts, especially the Psalms, Ecclesiastes, the Books of the Prophets and Job, be ranked under the head of the sublimest poetry. It has been very truly remarked that in or out of churches good reading of the Bible is very rarely heard, and that even persons who read other books in general comparatively well, often read this, the greatest of books, most vilely. " Not one clergyman in a hundred " (a recent critic remarked) " really reads a chapter correctly — meaning by that term, the right expression of the sense only, as distin- guished from the graces of expression. Not one in a thousand reads a chapter effectively as well as correctly. So with the Prayer-Book. How seldom are the services delivered as they should be — how few can give to family prayer its proper reading. There must be some cause widely and powerfully operating to produce so widespread and almost uni- versal an effect, and that cause must be understood before a cure can be recommended. Let us seek for it. It is the business of the clergy," says the author from whom I am quoting, " to read, and they have not learned their business if they have not studied the art of reading. . . . Even if they read other things well, they fail for the most part to read rightly that which it is their daily duty to read. Why is this? " I believe the foundation of the fault to be a very prevalent, but a very mistaken, notion that the Bible requires to be read in a different manner to other books, and this independently of, and in addition to, the expression proper to the subject treated of. A tone is assumed that was originally designed to be reverential, as if the reader supposed there was 352 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XX. something holy in the words themselves apart from the ideas they express. This tone, consciously employed at first, and then kept somewhat under control, soon comes to be used unconsciously and habitually, and rapidly usurps the place of all expression, showing itself in many varieties of sound, from drawl and sing-song to the nasal twang that formerly distin- guished the conventicle. Few readers shake off the infection when once it is acquired, because it ceases to be perceptible by themselves. The voice will swell and fall at regular intervals, the reader all the while supposing that he is speaking quite naturally, while he is really on the verge of a chant ; yet if immediately afterwards he were asked to read a narrative in a newspaper, he would do so in his own proper voice and ordinary manner." Now I am sure there is very great truth in the foregoing remarks, as T think most persons also will admit. How, then, can these stereotyped and traditional faults be best got rid of? Well, then, get rid, in the first place, of this cofiventiofial "sanctimonious" tone. Read the Bible, in fact, as you would read any other book, that is, in accordance triily with all the ideas, feelings, and emotions expressed by the words ; where the thoughts are grand, sublime, or reverential, let the voice and all its various attributes be made to convey all such characteristics ; but where any narrative passage occurs in which the incidents mentioned are purely of a simple and ordinary character, read such passages as you would read any narrative of similar character in any other book. I think one very common cause of the Bible being read badly is its arbitrary division into verses in our English version, so that the same pause is made by the reader at the end of every verse, no matter whether the sense requires it or not. Try, if possible, at once to forget that there is any division into verses, and read with exactly such pauses as the grammatical and rhetorical sense alone requires. Duly mark by the appro- priate change in the modulation of the voice the difference between narrative dialogue and speech. To all these give just the same tone, inflection, and general expression that you would give to the very same ideas so expressed anywhere else. " Persons who are accustomed to the drone or drawl, which they imagine to be reverential, will very likely object," says Mr. Serjeant Cox, in his treatise " On the Arts of Writing, Reading, and Speaking," " that you read the Bible like any other book, but they will soon get over this when they find how much more effec- tively it is heard and remembered." "Another set of hearers," he remarks, "who eschew the beautiful and the pleasing, until they banish with them the good and the true, will raise a louder outcry against the right reading of the narrative and dialogue, that it is ' dramatic ' or ' theatrical,' a vague term of reproach, more formidable formerly than it now is, and which you must learn to despise, if you aspire to be a good reader ; because a really good actor being a really good reader and something more, you cannot read well unless you at least read as correctly as the good actor reads. You cannot hope to conciliate this class of critics, for they will be satisfied with nothing but a monotonous drawl, and will give the sneering epithet to anything that escapes from their bathos ; so you may as well set Lect. XX.] ON ELOCUTION. 353 them at defiance from the beginning, and follow the dictates of your own good taste, regardless of the protests of the tasteless. " And so with the reading of prayers. Mannerism is more frequent in this than even in the reading of the Bible. The groaning style is the favourite one. Why, asks the author, should it be deemed neces- sary to address the Divinity as if you suffered severe bodily discom- fort? Yet thus do ninety-nine out of every hundred, in public or in family prayer. There is a tone of profound reverence most proper to be assumed in prayer, and which, indeed, if the prayer be really felt at the time of utterance, it is almost impossible not to assume, but this is very different from the sepulchral and stomachic sounds usually emitted." So much, then, for the complaints of the mode in which the Bible and prayers are so very frequently mis-read, as set forth by the learned Serjeant, whose experience, I think, will be supported by that of many others. For my own part, the best book I know on the subject of devo- tional reading, is that entitled "On Reading the Liturgy," by the late Rev. John Henry Howlett, M.A., formerly Chaplain at the Chapel Royal, Whitehall. It is a most useful, sensibly written, and thoroughly practical work. I make it my manual with all my clerical pupils, to whom I strongly recommend it, moreover, as a very valuable work of reference.* I pass on now to secular reading, and I take, as the most difficult of all, that which may be comprehensively termed dramatic reading. I do not mean by this merely the reading of plays, but reading in the true sense of the word drainaticaUy whatever is dramatic, no matter whether the form of composition be that of a play or not. Do not let me here be at all misunderstood. I use the term dramatically in its best and loftiest sense whenever I may have occasion to employ it, for no one repudiates more emphatically than I do any kind of mere theatrical exaggeration, or what is conventionally called stageyness. I may here most advantageously borrow from Mr. Serjeant Cox's recent work again. "There is scarcely any kind of composition that does not contain," he says, "something dramatic, for there are few writings so dull as to be unenlivened by an anecdote, an episode or apologue, a simile or an illustration, and these are for the most part more or less dramatic. Wherever there is dialogue there is drama, no matter what the subject of the discourse, whether it be grave or gay, or its object be to teach or only amuse, if it assume to speak through any agency other than the writer in his own proper person, there is drama. As in nmsic, we have heard Mendelssohn's exquisite ' songs without words,' wherein the airs by their own expressiveness suggest the thoughts and feelings which the poet would have embodied in choicest language, and desired to marry to such music, so in literature there is to be found drama without the ostensible shape of drama ; as in a narrative whose incidents are so graphically described that we see in the mind's eye the actions of all the characters, and from those actions learn the words they must have spoken when so acting and feeling. Moreover, drama belongs exclu- * Hewlett, "On Reading the Lituig)'." Price 5s. T. Muiby, 32 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street. Z 354 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XX. sively to humanity. It attaches to the qnicqtnd agiint Jiomhies. It is difficult to conceive, and ahnost impossible to describe, any doings of men that are not dramatic. All the external world might be accurately painted in words, without a particle of drama, though with plenty of poetry, but certainly two human beings cannot be brought into com- munication without a drama being enacted. Their intercourse could only be described dramatically, and that which is so described requires to be read dramatically. Of this art the foundation is an accurate concep- tion of the various characters, the perfection of the art is to express their characteristics truly, each one as such a person would have spoken, had he really existed at such a time, and in such circumstances. The dramatist and the novelist conceive certain ideal personages ; they place them in certain imaginary conditions ; then they are enabled by a mental process which is not an act of reasoning, but a special faculty, to throw their own minds into the state that would be the condition of such persons so situated, and forthwith there arises within them the train of feelings and thoughts natural to that situation. It is difficult to describe this mental process clearly in unscientific language, but it will be at once admitted that something very like it must take place before Genius sitting in a lonely room could give probable speech and emotion to creatures of the imagination. That is the dramatic art of the author, and because it is so difficult and rare, it is perhaps the most highly esteemed of all the accomplishments of authorship. For the right reading of dialogue very nearly the same process is required. You must in the first place distinctly comprehend the characters sup- posed to be speaking in the drama. You must have in your mind's eye a vivid picture of them as suggested by the author's sketch in outline. Next you must thoroughly understand the full meaning of the words the author has put into their mouths — that is to say, what thoughts those words were designed to express. As the great author having conceived a character and invented situations for it, by force of his genius makes him act and talk precisely as such a person would have acted and talked in real life ; so the great actor, mastering the author's design, rightly and clearly comprehending the character he assumes, and learnmg the words that character is supposed to speak, is enabled to give to those words the correct expression, not as the result of a process of reasoning, but instinctively, by throwing his mind into the position of the characters he is personating. So does the good reader become for the time the personages of whom he is reading, and utters their thoughts as themselves would have uttered them. In a word, a good reader of such composition must be an actor without the action.''^ I think to a certain extent the last line quoted from the learned Serjeant's work may be a little modified. In most dramatic reading there occurs fitting opportunity for the introduction of referential ges- ture, as it is termed. For instance, in reading the well-known poem of " The Execution of Montrose," there occurs a passage where the great !Marquis swears — " By tliat bright St. Andrew's cross That floats above us tlure / " . ... I Lect. XX.] OiV ELOCUTION. 355 Now if in reading this in public neither the hand nor eye of the reader should be raised, I think a very useful adjunct in giving effect to the hero's invocation to St. Andrew's banner would be missed. In almost all dramatic reading continual opportunity occurs, where what is called referential or descriptive gesture may judiciously be introduced. But, of course, good taste and judgment are to be consulted here, and the amount of action that would be quite fit and appropriate to the actor's part when performed on the stage would, in my opinion, be unbecoming the position of the public reader on the platform. I think nothing more tends to free a person from monotony, tame- ness, or mannerism than the practice of studying and afterwards read- ing aloud dialogue or dramatic selections, especially where the characters are strongly contrasted and each marked by its own particular individu- ality. The best test of a reader's having successfully studied the art of dramatic reading, is that the audience should know perfectly well what character he is representing without there being any necessity for his prefixing the name of the character each time he has to utter the words put by the author into the mouths of the various drainatis personce. In public reading, and more especially in what are called " Penny Read- ings," where your audiences, as regards the majority, at any rate, are not very highly educated, refined, or critical, experience has shown that in order to secure the attention of the hearers, the selections read must vary in character ; the grave must be followed by the gay, and wit and humour must alternate with sentiment and pathos. As a general rule the earlier portion of the evening should be devoted to the graver selections, and the latter part to those which partake more of the gay and humorous elements. Note. — I have frequently been asked, since the last edition of these Lectures was published, to recommend books containing good selections of extracts in prose and poetry that were well adapted for being read or recited before popular assemblies. I may, therefore, be allowed to men- tion, as excellent compilations for this purpose, the following, viz. : — "The Public School Reader and Reciter," by J. E. Carpenter (Warne & Co., Bedford Street, Covent Garden ; price 3s. 6d.); "Penny Read- ings," by J. E. Carpenter (10 vols, at is. each. Warne &Co., London) ; "Original Penny Readings," by Litchfield Mosely (Warne & Co., London); "Original Penny Readings," by G. Manville Fenn (Rout- ledge & Co., The Broadway, Ludgate Hill); "Christmas Penny Read- ings," by G. Manville Fenn (Routledge & Co.) ; " Bell's Modern Speaker and Reader" (Simpkin and Marshall, Paternoster Row); "M'Dowell's Rhetorical Readings " (Simpkin and Marshall) ; " Frobisher's Selection of Readings '' (an American work). In his preface to " The Revelations of Peter Brown, Poet and Peri- patetic, found in his Black Box,"* an excellent book, full of original com- positions (well suited for public reading), by John Francis Waller, LL.D., Dr. Waller writes thus : — " Some of these pieces have been selected for public reading by the Rev. Charles Tisdall, D.D., and by Mr. Bellew, and I am very certain that the great favour with which they have been * Published by Cassell, Petter, and Galpin, London. 356 AYiVG'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. [Lect. XX received is largely due to the ability of these accomplished gentlemen, whom I now heartily thank. Of Mr. Bellew, admittedly the finest reader of our times, it would be almost impertinence to speak, yet I cannot refrain from expressing my admiration of the power and pathos with which he rendered 'Isabel Clare.' Dr. TisdalFs recitation of 'Magdalena' was the performance of a master. With a voice of rare compass and variety of intonation, with great dramatic power and thorough apprecia- tion of every sentiment, he was alike happy in humour, tenderness, sprightliness, and vigour. A very general inquiry for these pieces emboldens me to republish them."' -vcg-><^ LECTURE XXI. Public Speaking — Principal requisites of Extempore Speaking — The Art of Composi- tion — Arrangement of Thoughts and Language — Process of Analysis — Attention and Association — Dangers of delivering written Speeches inenioriter — Suggestions in reference to the Art of Extempore Speaking — The Exordium, or introduction of a Speecla — The principal Subject-matter of a Speech — Varieties of mode of treat- ment — Purity of language — Perspicuity — The Peroration, or conclusion of a Speech — The time when to close a Speech, and how best to end it. HAVE now to call j'our attention to the subject of public speaking, to which public reading serves as an excellent introduction ; and all that I have said already in previous Lectures as applicable to the latter, bears with equal pro- priety on the former. But there is much more to be con- sidered. La public reading we have the thoughts and language already provided for us, whether they be our own, or the composition of another ; but in public, or extempore, speaking, the thoughts of our own minds are expected to be given, and we have to clothe those thoughts in our own language. To be furnished with appropriate ideas on the subject about to be discussed, to express those ideas aloud in perspicuous phrase- ology, and to deliver it with ease, freedom, and self-possession on your part, and with the result of producing the effect desired on your audience, are the grand requisites of all public speaking. To enlarge upon the advantages of acquiring an art so important as this in a country enjoy- ing such freedom of speech as our own, would be quite superfluous. As the Arclibishop of York said at the annual meeting of the King's College Evening Classes, when his Grace presided at the distribution of the prizes to the students : — "In this country, and in this age, almost every great religious, poli- tical, and social movement was effected by the agency of public speak- ing, and the advantages of being well versed in this art, as well as in that of public reading, were becoming every day more apparent." Now the first requisite on the part of any one aiming to be a public speaker is, that he should have certain definite ideas on a given topic, and have them aptly and logically arranged. No man can speak well, unless he knows well what are his thougJits on the subject; in a word, what it is he wishes to say. To those who are entire novices in this branch of our subject, I would recommend, as a very good mode of 358 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XXI. training the mind in the development of thought and the arrangement of ideas, to take, at first, any question of importance in which the student feels a special interest, and think well and calmly over it. Let him then take his pen in his hand, and endeavour to express his particular views in clear and appropriate language, and state at length the various facts and reasons which have induced him to come to the conclusion he has arrived at, and also endeavour to answer or anticipate the different objections which may be raised in opposition to his views. Finally, let him summarise all his conclusions, and urge in their favour all that will commend them, not only to the intellect and judgment, but to the feelings and emotions of those who are interested in the subject. I can assure the student that he will find exercises of this character at first most useful, for they will teach him to thi?ik and to compose, and he will soon be surprised to find how one idea will seem spontaneously to suggest another, and how thought will become linked with thought. Writing on a subject is one of the hestfoioidatioiis for speaking upon it, and I advise you to cultivate the practice sedulously at first, for it is the only test by which you can distinguish between real thoughts and mere vague, formless, and aimless fancies. My next suggestion would be for you to make a careful analysis of your written speech, putting down on a separate sheet of paper the leading topics, and where the nature of the speech permits your doing so, group these various topics under particular heads. As you do so, reflect alike on the nature of the connection which in your mind leads you on from one head of your discourse to another, as well as on the mental links which group one topic with another under each of the heads into which you have divided your speech. In a word, cultivate and develop to the utmost that which is the leading principle of all systems of mnemonics, viz., the law that governs the association of ideas in the human mind. The great majority of us forget half of what we see, hear, and read from neglecting to cultivate attention and associatio?t. There are several useful works on the modes by which the association of ideas may be best developed and exercised, but I have met with some lately that contain really very useful suggestions, the works on memory, by Dr. Edward Pick,* who delivered an extremely interesting course of lectures on the subject in this College not long since, and the books recently written by Mr. Stokes of the Polytechnic Institution. t Now, then, having your page of head-notes before you, give your written speech, if you can, to a friend, and get him to act as your audience, while you deliver your discourse as you would in public. Let him occasionally glance at your written composition, that he may see that no topic or argument of any importance is omitted to be introduced by you in the proper place ; and if you are failing to do so, let him just mention, in a few words, the leading thought that you had passed over, and do you then, in your own language, supply the omission. Remember, I deprecate strongly the habit of writing a speech,, and then delivering it exactly as written. A very striking passage or impressive peroration * Published by Trubner & Co., Ludgate Hill. + Published by Iloulstou (S: Sons, Paternoster Buildings. Lect. XXL] ON ELOCUTION. 359- may perliaps, occasionally, be written and then committed to memory, and be spoken with effect. Some of our most eminent orators have not scrupled to avow they have, on great and special occasions, resorted to this method, and I believe the late Lord Brougham stated that he wrote and rewrote the famous peroration to his speech in defence of Queen Caroline half-a-dozen times before he was satisfied with it himself. But still these are exceptions to the rule I should be disposed to lay down for your guidance. A written speech delivered in extenso et viemoriter, is, I think, a dangerous mistake, for a temporary loss of words from failure of recollection will often so completely cause a man, unused to face public assemblies, to lose all self-possession and confidence, that he will be unable to recover himself, or recall a single passage afterwards. I remember once witnessing a most painful scene of this description at a great religious meeting in Exeter Hall. A young and noble earl had risen to propose an import- ant resolution. He began, and went on for ten minutes or so, with wonderful fluency and ease. I beUeve he had never spoken in any public assembly before, and at first all around me were evidently struck with admiration. His lordship's words were well chosen, and his long and polished sentences beautifully constructed. Alas ! too much so, for it was almost evident at once, to any one who had given his attention to these matters, that it was a very able and carefully written speech that the orator had learned off by heart, and was delivering simply memo- riter. But after the youthful lord had spoken for about ten minutes, there was to one of his statements of alleged facts some demur, and loud cries of " No, no \ " burst forth from one corner of the hall, A slight disturbance ensued, which, was, however, speedily quelled. But slight as the disturbance was, it had had its effect. The thread of the noble speaker's discourse had been suddenly and rudely snapped asunder, and he could not recover it. His self-possession was completely gone. He hesitated and stammered for a minute or two in the endeavour to recall the words of his sneech ; but it was all in vain, and he was obliged to resume his seat in a state of confusion and discomfiture, which must have been most painful to himself and nearly as much so to his audience. No, I say emphatically, do not trust to the tenacity of your memory for retaining the words of a previously well-prepared or carefully-written speech. My advice, therefore, would be briefly as follows : — Choose some fitting occasion, when a question is to be discussed at a public meeting in which you feel an interest. Turn the subject well over in your mind, and view it under all the various aspects in which it may be regarded, and then choose that which seems best adapted to your mode of treat- ment. Arrange your ideas after you have well considered the subject, as far as you can, in a clear and logical order, and more especially let your arguments be duly-linked together, so that the conclusions to which they lead may seem to follow as a necessary consequence, and so make a strong impression on the audience you are about to address. This mental arrangement of ideas then commit in outline to paper — but do not write down more. Content yourself with a clear and simple outline 36o KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XXI. of the subjects and the mode in which you propose they shall be treated. Endeavour to fix your thoughts firmly in your mind, and remember how much their proper sequence may be aided by carrying out the principle of the association of ideas as the most powerful of all the aids to memory. When you have thoughts, that is, really something to say, it will not be long, even if your earliest attempts are comparative failures, before you will find the facility of clothing those thoughts in language becomes with every succeeding effort greater and greater. No doubt it is a moment calculated to make any man feel nervous and embarrassed when he is called upon for the first time to address an audience in public. But if you will bear in mind the importance of occupying the first few moments after you have risen on your legs, in placing yourself in the best and easiest position for speaking ; then of calmly, deliberately, and thoroughly filling your lungs, and quietly survey your audience before you begin, you will be astonished to find how much these mere physical adjuncts will assist in giving mental composure and self-possession. I would always advise a novice in the art to begin by speaking slowly and deliberately. As he goes on constructing his sentences, let him divide them as much as possible into their proper clauses, between each clause take just such a quiet, easy, imperceptible inspiration as will sufficiently replenish the lungs, and in the pauses between such clauses endeavour to clothe the next ideas in fitting words, and so train the mind to be ever in advance of the tongue. Some of the very best extempore speakers I have ever listened to always begin their addresses very slowly and deliberately — so much so, indeed, that it might be said to be actual hesitation which characterises their opening remarks. But even this is scarcely of an unpleasing effect if the hesitation is between sentences or clauses, and not between the 7vords which compose them. Such speakers, as they enter more fully into their subject, and warm to their work, become every moment more fluent, fervid, and impas- sioned; and this, too, you will find by practice will be the experience of yourselves. Calmness and deliberation at first will, in general, ensure increasing fluency of ideas and language as you proceed with your address. It is well remarked in a very rare and curious old book (p. 123), entitled "The Art of Speaking," translated from the French work on the subject by the Messieurs du Port Royal, and published in London in the year 1676, that "there is a rhetoric in the eye, the lips, and the general motion of the whole body that impresses and persuades as much as arguments. . . . We judge of an orator by our eyes as well as our ears. Every passion has its peculiar tone, its peculiar gesture, its peculiar mien, and as these are pleasing, powerful, and expressive, or the reverse, so do they make a good or bad orator." A regular address or speech is a work of art, and ought to be con- structed artistically ; but still the motto " ars celare artem " must be borne in mind. Though the construction be artificial, it must yet seem to be spontaneous and natural in its arrangement, from the introductory remarks or exordium to its close or peroration. By most speakers the beginning of a speech is considered to be perhaps its most difficult part, and this got over at all in a satisfactory manner, they feel themselves Lect. XXL] ON ELOCUTION. 361 more at ease, and tolerably sure to be able to go on to a conclusion without fear of breaking down. A good introduction to a speech is not unfrequently " half the battle," and realises the truth of the old French proverb, "r^ n'cst que le premier pas qui coiitey In general I may say the prefatory remarks of a speaker should be designed to awaken the attention of an audience, to conciliate their good-will, and elicit their interest in the subject you are about to discuss. A certain air of defer- ence to the audience whom you are about to address is by no means an unimportant element, especially with a young speaker, in securing their attention and sympathy. It is, in fact, the delicate but silent species of flattery to which public audiences readily yield themselves, and which, I have often noticed, contributes not a little to the good-will and attention shown to an untried or inexperienced speaker. You may then proceed to show how much there is in the question to awaken the interest of your hearers, and how much you yourself feel its importance ; and if there are any particular personal or local reasons which qualify you to form an opinion and express your views on the subject, they may be very properly mentioned or alluded to in your introductory remarks. The ground thus cleared, you are now prepared to enter upon the subject itself. Of course, every subject demands its own mode of treatment, and much, too, depends on the particular stand- point whence the speaker views it. But generally, I may say, endeavour to have in your own mind a clear and definite conclusion to which you desire also to bring the minds of your audience ; and mentally arrange, and at first commit to paper, the head-notes of the chain of arguments or reasons by which you propose arriving at such conclusions. Though your chain of reasoning ought to be strictly logical, yet to a miscellaneous popular audience I should not recommend that the Xogxc'A formula be made too obtrusive. Your aim in almost all public addresses is to persuade or convince. A mere dry, formal argument alone, however sound or logical, seldom affords entire satisfaction to a popular assembly. A speech requires variety in its progress, and, as far as the nature of the subject will permit, statement should be intermingled with argument, humour with gravity, pathos with gaiety, anecdote and illustration with wit and eloquence. If any scene is described to your audience, en- deavour to form a vivid mental picture of it, and as you see it in your " mind's eye " so narrate it with appropriate action to your audience, especially remembering the service which referential gesture, as it is termed, lends upon all such occasions. Of course the introduction of invective, sarcasm, passionate appeal, rhetorical figures and metaphors, must depend much on the nature of the subject, the character of the audience, and the individual temperament of the speaker. Great caution should be exercised in their employment, for if inappropriate they only serve to make a speaker ridiculous. Eschew, too, all that multiplication of sounding epithets, useless synonyms, strings of adjectives and adverbs and many-syllabled nouns, which " our American cousins " sum up in the phrase, " tall talking.^' Cultivate as much as possible purity and simplicity of language, which will be found to be really the most 362 A'lA^G'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. [Lect. XXI. beautiful as well as the most effective in attaining the result aimed at ; and as a general rule, for your own sake and also that of your hearers, avoid all long, cumbrous, and involved sentences. Perspicuity is one of the greatest charms of a speech. The meaning of the speaker should be as visible to the audience whom he is addressing, as the landscape without is apparent through the clear polished glass of the window to the spectator who is viewing it from within ; and everything in a public address, if it is desired to be effective, should be sacrificed rather than perspicuity. The peroration, or closing words of a speech, ought, if possible, always to be its most powerful and impressive part. Many of our best orators in the Pulpit, the Senate, and at the Bar, have not scrupled to leave on record that they have written and rewritten the perorations to their most celebrated or most important speeches, until they had as far as possible satisfied their minds with them, and then as diligently and carefully committed them to memory, as a great actor would who was desirous of making a powerful impression in the chief character of some tragedy. In fact, such memorable perorations (the late Lord Brougham's, for instance, in his famous speech on behalf of Queen Caroline) have been acted. If there is any part of a regular set speech that it is desirable to write out, it is certainly this ; and high authority, moreover, sanctions the practice on great occasions. The peroration (to use a homely metaphor) should be the driving to the hilt of the various weapons you have used in the course of your career. It should not be merely a general summary of the argument, but the directing it, sending it home to the minds and hearts of your audience by vivid language and, when fitting, impassioned appeals to the sentiments, feelings, and emotions of your hearers, so as in the most powerful manner to persuade or convince them of the truth or importance of the conclusions to which you have arrived. As soon as this end seems to you to be attained — and to judge of the time rightly is a most valuable gift — close your speech and sit down. To know when the time for the peroration has arrived, and when to end it and sit down, contributes in no small degree to a speaker's success. 1 LECTURE XXII. The subject of Public Speaking and Reading considered in detail, and in reference especially to the various Professions where it is more particularly required— The Clergyman — The Clmrch Services — The Art of Preaching — Construction of a Sermon — Thoughts — Sources of Information — Four principal modes of Sermon Construction — The Narrative — The Textual — The Logical — The Divisional — The Delivery of a Sermon — Delivery as important in its Immediate Effects as Com- position — Styles of Preaching in other Countries — Suggestions in reference to the Delivery of Sermons — Proper use of Gesture in the Pulpit. AVING now briefly treated of the art of making public addresses in general, I propose in these, my concluding Lectures of our introductory course, viewing the subject more in detail, and inquiring a little into the various requisites Avhich are most demanded and called into action in pro- fessional and public life. As first in importance to his fellow-creatures, I take the ministerial public duties of the clergyman. In all that relates to the proper reading of the Liturgy and other Services of the Church of England, I know no better work, none in fact more practically useful in every way to the young clergyman or theological student, than the last and enlarged edition of that entitled " Instruction in Reading the Liturgy," by the late Rev. John Henry Howlett, formerly Chaplain of Her Majesty's Chapel, Whitehall, of which I have already made mention in my previous Lecture. I heartily commend the whole work to the careful attention of all persons who appreciate the innate beauty of our Church Services, and are desirous that that beauty should be made apparent to others, but more especially do I commend it to young clergymen and candidates for Holy Orders. I had the advantage of enjoying the friendship of the late Mr. Howlett for many years, and derived many valuable hints in my vocation from his suggestions and experience. There is so much practical good sense in his introductory remarks, and he points out so ably the principal faults in the manner of reading our Liturgy, and the reason why such faults should be avoided and corrected, that I am sure I am doing a service to many persons in giving the substance of Mr. Hewlett's observations. In effect he says : — " The members of the Church of England justly boast of their Liturgy, and affirm that no Service has a greater tendency to answer the purposes of Public Worship. It is, however, certain that this tendency is very much strengthened by means of a good delivery. But that our admir- 364 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Lect. XXII. able Ritual is not thus enforced so frequently as it ought to be, is a com- plaint which has been long heard even among the sincere and zealous friends of the Established Church, and which has now been brought prominently into public notice. It may therefore be useful, especially to the candidates for the sacred office, to enumerate the faults which most commonly prevail, to mention the causes to which those defects may be reasonably ascribed, and to suggest some means of removing them. The student, thus instructed, may be induced to pay more atten- tion to the proper manner of officiating ; so that he may individually vindicate the profession from reproach, and, through the Divine blessing, may, by his ministering, powerfully support the cause of true religion. " But here an objection will be urged by the advocates for ititoning the Service. They contend that the word ' say,' used in the Rubric, means 'intone.' They also state that a large portion of the Service is devotional, and that a plaintive monotone is best suited for expressing prayer. Undoubtedly a mournful modulation is very agreeable to many auditors ; still, a constant monotony is apt to become wearisome and soporific ; and when accompanied, as it very frequently is, by a rapid, indistinct utterance, the reader is unintelligible to the distant portion of the congregation. But though much of the Service is devotional, /.e\i in evil, devil; heaven, leaven; heathen, even ; reason, season ; beacon, deacon ; often, softly, &c., &c. " No man," * says the ingenious author of " The Theory of Elocu- tion," has a right to question any customary manner of sounding a word who is unacquainted with the general rules that secretly influence custom. Should the investigation necessary for arriving at these data be deemed too laborious, then let it not be thought too much to follow * Smart's " Theory," &c., p. 43. 422 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix I. implicity an orthoepist like Walker, who really had made the investiga- tion ; excepting only in those cases in which to agree with him would be to violate indubitable usage — cases which will sometimes occur from the variation of usage since his Dictionary was written." But where is this usage to be learned ? Partly from the writers on orthoepy — Perry, Jameson, Knowles, Smart, Richardson, and Webster. Walker's remark, also, will serve to guide us : " Neither a finical pronunciation of the court, nor a pedantic Grecism of the schools, will be denominated re- spectable usage till a certain number of the general mass of speakers have acknowledged them ; nor will a multitude of common speakers authorise any pronunciaton which is reprobated by the learned and polite." Though Pronouncing Dictionaries are in every one's hand, still some advantage may be derived from bringing into one view what Walker (with whose opinions all modern orthoepists generally agree) considered to be some of the remarkable tendencies which prevail in the pronun- ciation of the language.* REMARKABLE TENDENCIES OF PRONUNCIATION. I. — Compound and derivative words generally shorten the vowel which is long in the primitive words : thus, heroine from hei'o. Christian from Christ, vineyard {xoxi\ vine-yard, Christmas ixova Christ-mass, Michaelmas from Alichael-tnass, breakfast from break-fast, forehead from fore-head ; meadow from mead, primer from prime, knowledge from know, nothing from 710, &c. 2. — The antepenultimate accent generally shortens the vowel when a single consonant, or two that are proper to begin a syllable, intervene between it and the next vowel : thus, nature, 7idtiiral; parent, parentage ; penal, penalty ; Simon, simony ; globe, globular ; patron, patronage ; metre, metrical ; sacred, sacrifice, sacraments, &c. Exception (a). — U is never thus shortened : thus, cube, cubical ; music, musical ; hmar, lunary ; humour, humorous. Exception (b). — The antepenultimate accent does not shorten the vowel (unless that vowel be i) when the following syllable has in it a proper diphthong beginning with e or /, as ei, eo, ia, ie, to, iu, eou, or iou : — Ex. A-theist, me-teor, me-diate, a-lien, occasional, me-dium, outra-geous, harmonious. But so great a propensity (says Mr. Walker) have vowels to shrink under this accent, that the diphthong in some words, and analogy in others, are not sufficient to prevent it : thus, vdlia?it, retaliate, national, rational. 3. — The secondary accent f in derivative words generally shortens the * The student may consult with great advantage Smart's " Practical Grammar of English Pronunciation," a work which deserves to be generally known. t The secondary accent is that stress which is occasionally placed in words of four or more syllables upon some other syllable besides that which has the principal accent. Thus, accent is placed on \\it first syllable of conversation, covunendation, besides the principal one on the third syllable, when the word is not preceded by an accented syllable. But when it is so preceded, the secondary accent is not used : thus, polite conversation, griat comvunddtion. Appendix I.] ON ELOCUTION. 423 vowel which is long, though unaccented, in the primitive words. Hence the first vowel which is lengthened in dc-prive, re-peat, profane, becomes short, through the influence of the secondary accent, in dep'-riva"-tio7i, rep' -eii" -iion, prof -ana" -tio7i. (a) The exceptions to this effect of the secondary accent are similar to those which take place under the antepenultimate accent : viz., when u occurs ; as hiaibt-ate, likuora'tion, pu-rify, piiri-fica!' tion ; or when the following syllable contains a semi-consonant diphthong beginning with e or / (see exception (b) under the antepenultimate accent) : thus the long e in de-viate, me-diate, continues long in ae-viation, me-diation, me-diator. 4. — The past tense frequently shortens the vowel which is long in the present tense: thus, bitixoxa. bite ; said iiovsx say ; read ixova read; and heard from hear. 5. — IV has a peculiar power over the sound of the succeeding vowel : hence the sound given to the in worm, word, and the broad sound given to the a in water, wan, quatitity (-^zfontity),' quality (-^wolity), qualify [kwoWiy), &c. The u which always follows q is sounded like w ; and as w always communicates a broad sound to a in the syllables al and ant when under the accent, analogy clearly requires that the broad sound should be adopted in quality, qualify, quantity, &c. 6. — An aspirated hissing is given to /, d, s, z, x, and soft c,* imme- diately after the accent (either primary or secondary), and before proper diphthongs beginning with e or // likewise often before i^. (a) T is sounded like sh in the combinations tia, tial, tian, tiate, tient, tience, Hon, tious ; as in ?ni?mticB, partial, partiality, tertial, expatiate, patient, patience, nation, captious, &c. (b) T is sounded like tch, in the combinations teous, tue, tuous, tual, tune, ture, tute ; likewise when t follows s, ?i, x, as in righteous, virtue, vir- tuous, spiritual, fortune, nature, statute ; bestial, question, frontier, admix- ture, &c. " This pronunciation of / extends to every word in which the diph- thong or diphthongal sound begins with / or e, except in the termination of verbs and adjectives, which preserve the simple in the augment ,with- out suffering the t to go into the hissing sound : as, I pity, thou pitiest, he pities or pitied ; mightier, worthier, twentieth, thirtieth, &c. This is a2;reeable to the general rule, which forbids adjectives or verbal termin- ations to alter the sound of the primitive verb or noun." — Walker. (c) JD is sounded like/ in soldier, grandeur, verdure. (d) S is sounded likej// in the combinations seate, sient, sion, sure, sue ; as in nauseate, transiefit, aimension, censtire, issue, &c. (e) S is sounded like zh when preceded by a vowel or vowel-sound ; as in occasion, Ephesians, pleasure, &c. (f) Z is sounded like zh in glazier, grazier, azure, razure. (g) JT is sounded like ksh m flexion, crucifixion, anxious, &ic. * On minutely considering the position of the organs of speech when pronouncing these consonants and vowels, it appears that this sibilation promotes ease of utterance. See Walker's " Principles," art. 459; also Smart's "Practical Grammar of English Pronunciation," pp. 68, 212, 424 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix 1, (h) C is sounded like sh in ocean, testaceous, social, associate, and in similar combinations. (i) N.B. It must be carefully remembered that the foregoing remarks are restricted to the case of 7inaccefited syllables. When the accent falls on the vowel immediately after t, d, s, x, and soft c, those letters retain their proper sound : as satiety, tune ; endi^re, due ; pursue, suicide, suit ; anxiety; society. The only exceptions are sugar and sure with their compounds. 7. — FAULTY PRONUNCIATION OF ACCENTED VOWELS AND DIPHTHONGS. The irregular sound of 0, as heard in the words dove, love, &c., is frequently disregarded by those who think themselves bound to follow the spelling. Such speakers require to be reminded that 0, when under the accent and followed by w, n, v, or th, very frequently has the above-mentioned short sound of u as in cub. This pronunciation is required in c6»mfort, C(?mpany, dcmong, mongrel, vaong&r, ton, tongue, &:c. ; c^vet, covenant, owtn, &c. ; either, mother, d^th, &:c. The same sound is to be admitted in a few instances before z and r ; as in d(?zen, coztn ; borough, atttirney, through. U, following r, sometimes assumes the sound of 00, instead of its sound in cube. This happens in the following words, and in their com- pounds : tr?^th, truly, br«te, rum, xuXtr, unr//ly, frz/gal, cxue\, cr«cify, prz^dent, Dr«id, fr«it, &c. The following faults in the pronunciation of accented vowels and diphthongs are principally provincial ; but as they are sometimes, through inadvertence, committed even by those who are in other respects accu- rate and elegant speakers, and as they extend to a considerable class of words, they require to be noticed. In catch, gather, having, thanks, thanksgiving, &c., the a is often incorrectly sounded as e, as if written cetch, geiher, heving, thenks, thenksgiving. Get, forget, yet, instead, are altered into git, forgit, yit, and instid ; since into sence ; whilst justly, justice, such, shut, &c., are frequently f^xoxiovccvc^di jestly, jestice, sech, shet. To change er or ir, when under the accent and followed by a vowel, into ur, is an error which may be considered altogether provincial ; but as the words in which it is observable are of frequent occurrence in the Holy Scriptures, in the Church Service, or in sermons, it may be useful to mention it. In this mode of pronunciation the words impera- tive, heresy, merry, verily, error, 7niracles, irritate, Szc, are altered into t7npur-ative, hur-esy, murry, vur-ily, urror, inur-acles, urritate. In pronouncing the diphthong ou, the sound of ah is sometimes wrongly introduced before it : as thah-ou for thou ; rah-outid for round, &c. 8. — PRONUNCIATION OF UNACCENTED SYLLABLES. " Besides such imperfections in pronunciation as disgust every ear not accustomed to them, there are a thousand insensible deviations in the more minute parts of language, as the unaccented syllable may be called, Appendix I.] ON ELOCUTION, 425 which do not strike the ear so forcibly as to mark any indirect impro- priety in particular words, but occasion only such a general imperfection as gives a bad impression on the whole. Speakers with these imper- fections pass very well in common conversation ; but when they are re- quired to pronounce with emphasis, and for that purpose to be more distinct and definite in their utterance, here their ear fails them : they have been accustomed only to loose, cursory speaking, and for want of firmness of pronunciation are like those painters who draw the muscular exertions of the human body without any knowledge of anatomy. This is one reason, perhaps, why we find the elocution of so few people agree- able when they read or speak to an assembly, while so few offend us by their utterance in common conversation. A thousand faults lie con- cealed in a miniature, which a microscope brings to view ; and it is only by pronouncing on a larger scale, as public speaking may be called, that we prove the propriety of our elocution." — Walker. 9. — ALLOWABLE FLUCTUATION IN THE SOUND OF SOME UNACCENTED VOWELS AND DIPHTHONGS. (a) A final in a syllable without accent receives a sound between that of a as heard in ah, and that of u in Jur; e.g., d!-bound, tr«-duce, di-a- dem, ide-fl-. (b) A followed by a consonant in a syllable without accent receives a sound which wavers between that in at and that in uf. In colloquial pronunciation it will tend towards the latter sound ; in deliberate reading or speaking it will decline less from the former : e.g., comb<2t, nobleman. (c) When /or Fis final in a syllable or followed by a consonant, and final e is unaccented, it no longer retains its alphabet sound : thus, i-magine, y-cleped, p-iazza, li-tigious, hypocrisy, ci-viUty, ti-midity, servile, practice, treatise, respite, favourite, getiuine, opposite, are pronounced e-magine, pe-azza, &c., servil, practis, treatis, respit, &c. (d) O, followed by a consonant in a final syllable without accent, acquires the sound of short or shut u, as heard in tub ; and if not in a final syllable, it approaches that sound. In a final syllable, is sounded decidedly as u; thus mamm^jck, cassock, methtid, pistd, custom, authig in the words monger, mongrel, the sound of u is substituted, analogy is in favour of adopting the same sound in among. — On the same principle, censure is to be pronounced as if written ce7i- shure, because sure, surely, surety, Sec, are sounded as if there were an /i in the words. — Dissyllables, compounded with the syllable "ward," are accented on the frst syllable ; as backniard, forward ; upward, doivnward ; homeward ; o?iward ; 7iortliward, southward; eastward, 7iiesttiiard; — therefore analogy requires that the accent should be laid on the first syllable oS. toward rather than on the second. The authority of all pronouncing dictionaries supports the same conclusion. In poetry, Appendix I.] ON ELOCUTION. 433 the word is generally pronounced as a monosyllable. — Is it forefather or forefather ? As the accent is on the first syllable in godfather, grand- father, and stepfather, analogy justifies the accent on the first syllable of forefather. Guidance may also be obtained in some doubtful instances by observ- ing the strong tendency in pronunciation to shorten in compounded words the vowel or diphthong which is long in the primitive : thus, nd- tio7i, national; Christ, Christian ; globe, globular ; mead, jneadow, &c, — On this principle the a is shortened in sacrament, sacrifice, and the is shortened in knotvledge. III. Derivation, either from words in our own or in a foreign lan- guage. When analogy fails, or is conflicting, then consult Derivation. For instance, as receives its alphabetic sound in over and overt, some speakers give it the same sound in covert ; but the derivation of that word from cover will decide the correct pronunciation to be cuvert. — Again, is \t frontlet ox frimtlet ? In some words the syllable ^«i? has the alphabetic sound of the 0, either long, as in the contracted word doji't, or short as m fo?it and f'ofttier ; but a.% frontlet i?, derived horn, front, in which, as well as in affront and confront, is usually sounded as u, the derivation should be pronounced like the primitive. IV. Perspicuity. When neither analogy nor derivation will guide, regard should be paid to perspicuity : e.g., if a in haling (dragging) re- ceives the alphabetic sound, the word is liable to be confounded with haili?2g (calling to, speaking to). This doubt will be prevented if the word is pronounced as if written hauling ; and indeed it is now thus usually spelt. In this instance a regard to derivation will assist ; as the word hale is derived from the French verb haler, the sound of the a in the English word may be allowed to resemble that of the French vowel. — Fifty years ago dotne was frequently pronounced doom ; so that the doom of St. Paul's might mean either its fate or its roof. Regard to the spelling now prevents such a mistake, and produces perspicuity. V. Euphony, or ease of utterance, will decide the pronunciation in regard to the place of the accent in some doubtful cases. The words corruptible, acceptable, perceptible, susceptible, are more easily pronounced with the stress on the J"^r^;/^ syllable rather than on X}i\& first. — The word pronunciation is smoother when the c is sounded as s, not as s/i, and the word pronounced as li \^ntten pronunseashon, not pronunsheashon. The repetition of the hissing sound of sh is unpleasant. The word " ortho- epist " is more easily pronounced with the accent on the second syllable than on both first and third. Orthbepist requires less effort in utterance than or'tho-epist. The accent is laid on the second syllable in several other similar compounds, orthogonal, orthog'raphy,orthorogy, orthom'etry. VI. Orthoepists. When custom varies, and opposite inferences may be drawn from the consideration of analogy, derivation, or euphony, then let the agreement of the majority of orthoepists decide. Note. — The student, and those who take an interest in orthoepy, which, like orthography, varies much in the course of centuries, will find in Webster's Dictionary a curious and useful synopsis of words differently pronounced by different orthoepists. 2 £ 4 ALPHABETICAL LIST. A List of Words, occurring in the Scriptures, to be pro- nounced ACCORDING TO THE AUTHORITY OF WaLKER AND LATER Writers. — {N.B. Where they differ, the opinion of the majority is followed.) *^* The figures refer to the preceding sections The accented syllable is distinguished by the acute accent. A, article, short, not a, as in the first letter of the alphabet. Abhor, {h to be sounded) Above, abuv, not above Absolution, {s sharp) * Accep'-table Ac'-cess Accomplish, {o as in not) Acknowledge, ak-nol -ledgc^ Apostolic, ap'-os-tol'-ic Arch-angel, ark-dngel Are, ar {a as in^^r) Authority, aw-thbr-ity Awkward, dwk-wurd Aha ! ah-hah' Albe'it, all-be-it Alienate, die-yen-ate ^ (^) Almighty, all-migJi-ty Almond, d-mimd (a as in Jar) Alms, ajHz (a as mjar) Aloes, al-'oze Among, amung'~ Amongst, amungst t And, not end % Answer, answer Ant, (a as in /at) § Any, en-fiy Apostle, apos'-sl {p as in not) B. ft Betroth', betroth, {th as in thin) Bier, beer Boiled (p as in no) Bosom Both, not bo-ath Break, brake Brethren, not bruthren, nor breth'-e-rcji Burial, ber-re-al f Bade, bad Balm, bain {a as in Jar) Bap-tize', not bap'-tize Bath, {a as in far) Because,. (^ as z) Be-he-moth Be-lieve, not blieve Beneath, beneeth {th as in this) Besom, b'ezum * Accep-table.] — Walker regretted that, in his time, this word has shifted its accent from the second to tlie first syllable. It would have afforded him satisfaction to have known that the principle which he recommended has latterly so much prevailed, as to have nearly restored the original pronunciation. His general rule is, that when pox c occurs before t. in words of four syllables, or more than four (as in perceptible, suscep- iible, corrtiptibte, incorruptible, refraclory, refectory , perfunctory , &c.), ease of utterance is much promoted by laying the accent on the syllable ending with the/ or c. t And.] — The faulty conversion of and into end is sometimes heard among those v.'ho wish to avoid the opposite fault of making rt^a' emphatic. X Answer.]— The a often has, the open sound in this word, as pronounced by some of our best speakers. § Any.] — Refer to the remarks under the word "many." If there is reason for con- tinuing to pronounce that word menny, enny will be admitted on the score of affinity. II Betroth'.] — But there is a tendency to make the o long. Appendix I.] KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION: 435 Calf, caf {a as mfar) Calm, cam {a as mfar) Catch, not ketch Catholic, {a as in cat) Censure, censhure '° C^) Chamber, chanie-ber Chamberlain, chatne-ber-lin Charity, {a as in chat) Chasten, chase-sn ^^ Chastity ^ Chastisement, chds -tiz-mejit ' Children, not childern Christianity, chris-ie-dn-ity *^ Clothes, clothze or cloze Concu-piscence C. Condemn, {ii silent) Conduit, kun-dit Conquer, kong-kur Conqueror, kong-kur-ur Con'trite * Cor-rup'-tible Courteous, not curtyus Covert, kuv-vurt'^ Covetous, kiw-e-tiis "^ Could, (/ silent) Couldest, (/ and e silent) Coulter, koletur Courtesy, {curtesy) Cru-el, not crool Cruse, krooz D. Deacon, de-kn'^^ Defend', not defend Decease, s not z Design, desine (not z) Desist, desist (not z) De-spite' t Deuteron'omy Devil, devl^^ Devilish, dev-vl-ish ^* Ear, r\o\. year Ecclesiastic, ec-cle-zhe-as-tic ^ X Either, c-ther, or either Em-e-rods, {em as in them) % Endow, ow as in down, not as in blow Engine, enjht Epistle, e-pis-sl De-liv'-er, not de-liv-er Demon, demun ^^ Diamond, di-a-mund'^'-^ Discern, diz-zern' Dissemble, not dizzemble Draught, draft Drought, drout, not drouth, draitt E. Ere, air Errand, not arrand Error, not urror Evil, e-vl^^ Ewe, yu II Ever-las'-ting Ex'-orcist * Corruptible.] — See note on "acceptable." t Deuteronomy.] — Accordingto analogy, in all other words compounded with deutero, the thh-d syllable is accented : deuterogamist, dcuterS^^amy, deiiterSpathy, deiiterSscopy. X Either.]— The general sound of ei in English words is a or e, there being only four words, height, sleight, heigh-ho, eider, in which it has the sound of i. To give it this sound in either and neither is a modern fashion, contrary to the strongest analogies, and discountenanced by most orthoepists and many public speakers, who agree in jireferring ether and nether. The words come from the Saxon ; therefore i?/ in the first syllable is not the Greek diphthong Et. § Endow.] — In all derivations, dower, dowry, doimger. Sec, the same sound of ow is adopted. II Everlasting.]— In this word, the primary accent may be transferred to the first syllable of " ever," if the sentiments should require it. (Grant's Gram., p. 167.) 436 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix T. Father, {a as in far) Fellow, fel-Io (o as in no) First-fruits Flay, x\oifle Follow, fol-lo (o as in no) Folk, foke * Forefathers t God, (o as in nof) Gold, (o as in no) I Great, graie Hallelujah, hallehiyah Hallow, {a as in fa?i) Half, haf {a as in far) Hatred, (not ha-ter-ed) Have, "(//Jz') Heard, herd Hearth, hdrth Height, kite not hightk Heresy, not her-e-zy I, not aye Idol, not idle Incarnation, not inairnation Infinite, in-fe-?iit^ Jealousy, {s not z) Forge Forget, ViOtforgit'^ Forthwith, {th as in thin) Frailty, frale-ty Front, frunt " Frontlet, fruntlet G. Greaves, greves Gross, {o as in no) H. Herewith', {ih as in thin) Heretofore, here-too-fore Hinder, adj. Hindermost Horn-age Hundred, not hunderd Hymn, him Hypocrisy, {s not z) Hypocrite, iiyp-o-crit I. Inspiration, insperation Instead, insted', not instid! Iron, i-tirn § Issue, ish-shu '^ {^) J- Justice, not jestice" K. Knowledge, nol-ledge ^ Leasing, leazing Libertines, Lib'-er-tins Length {g sounded), not lejith Linen, lin-nin Lep'er 1 1 Lord, {o as in 7wr) Leprosy, {s not z) * Forefather.]— According to the authority of orthoepists. t God.]— The short o and the d must be distincily sounded, so that the word may never be corrupted into Gad, Gaud, Gode, Got. X Great.] — Custom is so decided in pronouncing ea in this word like ea in i^ear and hear, that to sound it otherwise is generally considered affectation. § Issue.] — But many now pronounce this word isseiv, and Mr. Gladstone so pro- nounces it. II Lord.] — Care must be taken to sound the o and r distinctly and fully in this word, to prevent it from being changed into such sounds as the following, which are occa- sionally heard : Lard, Liird, Lod, Lode, Lonid, Lud, Laud. Appendix I.] ON ELOCUTION. 437 * Many, fuejiny t Manifold, man'-e-fold Master, {a as in far) ^ Marry, {a as in mat, not /ar) Mediator, nie-di-a-tur"^ {^) Nature, na-fcJmre^ Natural, ?iat-tcfui-ral ^ National, nash-un-al^ X Neither, nether or nither Oaths, othz {th as in this) Ob-tain, not obe-tain Oblige, oblidge Of-fences, not o-fences Often, of-fn i^ M. Medicine, med-e-sin Merchant, not manhant Mine, not mzn Miracle, (/ as in pin) N. Nephew, nevvew None, nun § No-table, not not-able O. One, wun^ Once, wunse^ Only, owfily, not only Op-press, not o-press Or-di-na-ry or ord-na-ry r. Person, per-sn ^^ Persuasion, per-sua-zhun ^ {") Persuasive, (s sharp ||) Pitied, pit-id ^ (^) Pour, pore Pomegranate, pum-gran -nat Po'-ten-tate Pontius, Font-ius Pre-cept Preside, {z not s) President, prez-e-dcnt % Princess, noX. princess Paradise, {a as in 7?iat) Pardon, pai--dn ^^ Pardonable, par-d7i-a-bl ^^ Pardoning, par-dn-ing^^ Pa'-rent, x\oi par-etit Parliament, par-le-ment Path, (a as in far; th as in thin) Paths, pathz {th as in this) Pa-tri-arch 2 (^) Perform, {0 as in not) Peril, per'-il, not pur-il Perhaps, {h to be sounded) * ]\Iany.] — General custom favours this pronunciation, which has probably always been the sound of the word, derived from the Saxon word mcenig. Amongst old writers it was often written menie or meyny. t Manifold.] — Etymology would require this word to be pronounced mennyfold, but custom decides otherwise. A similar deviation prevails in the preposition to-wards, in which has its regular sound, though the primitive word to is sounded like the adverb too. + Neither.] — See remarks under the word "either." § Notable.] — i.e., remarkable. Abatable s\gn\^&s carefitl or bustling. II S in the adjective termination sive is always sharp and hissing. IT Princess.] — According to the present fashion this word is accented on the second syllable. This change in the accentuation may be ascribed probably to the fact that the possessive case of the word has come into frequent use in connection with a modern theatre. Ease of utterance has great influence on pronunciation. As it is more diffi- cult to say "The Prin'cess's" than "The Princess's," therefore the latter accentuation is generally adopted. But is this a sufficient reason why the word in any other case than the possessive should lose its original accent on the prst syllable ? If it is, ana- logy would require that we should say "Countess, Marchioness, Duchess." Still, however, the word is allowed to retain the accent on the first syllable when the next word has the accent on that syllable. Every one speaks of the " Piincess Alice,"' not of the "Princess Alice." . 438 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix I, Prison, priz-zn ^^ Prisoner, priz-zn-ur ^^ Process, pros'-ess Prophecy, s. prof-fe-se Prophesy, v. prof-fe-si Propitiation, pro-pish-e-d-shun ^ (^ Proving, prooving Psalm, sam {a as in^r) Psalmist, sai-mist {a as in Jar) Psalmody, sal-mo-de {a as xxvfar) Punish, not poo-nish Punishment, not poo-nish-ment Pursue, pur-si'i ^ (') not purshu Push, poosh Put, {u as in bulf) Q. Quantity, {a Hke o in not) R. Raisin, ra-zfi Rather, not ruther Ravening, rd-vn-ing Reason, re-z7iy not resun ^^ Reasonable, re-zn-a-bl ^^ Rec-oncile, not re-cojicile Revolt, (iinister, with a reference to the others." — Sinart. On the same principle, only one accent is given to Shbbatk-day, mhn-servant, maid-servatit,judgtne7it-seat, &c. + Sa-tan.] — The first a is long in the Hebrew : short in the Latin and Greek. (Care must be taken not to pronounce it as if spelt Sa-tn.) + Sa-tan.] — Also pronounced "Sat-an" — a custom originating perhaps in the practice of some Greek and Latin versifiers of the middle and modem ages, who shortened the first vowel in the word " Satanas ;" but as the English version both of the New as well of the Old Testament adopts the original I/ebrew word, in which the first vowel is long according to the Masoretic punctuation, " Sa-tan " appears to be the preferable mode of pronunciation. — Care must be taken not to convert it into " Sa-tn." § Staves.] — This pronunciation, which analogy justifies, is adopted by some who are generally considered veiy correct speakers. Walker makes it rhyme with caves. f Appendix I.] ON ELOCUTION. 439 Subjec'-ted, part. adj. Subtil, suttl Subtilly, siittilly Subtilty, not sub-tl-ty Such, not setch "^ Suit, not shiite^ (^) Sworn, {o as tio ; w sounded) Synagogue, sin-a-gog T. Toward, {o as in no) Towards, tb-urdz Treason, tre-zn ^^ Treasonable, tre-zn-a-bl Troth Tab-ret Talk, tawk Terrible, not turrible Testimony, testimun-y ^ Thanks, not thenks^ Thanks'-giving (accent on the first) Truths, {th as in thin) Than, not then '-* True, troo, not tre-ew "' Thraldom, thrawl-dum U. Underneath, t/nder/iethe, {th as in this) V. Value, val-yoo, not valoo Virtue, vir-tchu ^ * Venison, ven-zn Virtuous, vir-tchii-us Ver-y, not viir-i-y Volume, vol-yutne Victuals, vittlz Vouch-safe', {ch sounded) \\\ Walk, wajtk Wast, wost t Weapon, wep-piin ^ Whereof, hware-of {o as in not) unless emphatic Wherefore, hware-fore Whereunto, hware-un-too Who, hoo Whom, hooin Whose, hooze Whole, hole Wholly, hoie-ly Wicked, wik-id Wickedness, wik-id-ness Wi-li-ness With, {th as in this) Womb, wootn Women, wim-miii Wonder, wiinder^ Wont, wunt ; not ivant Worship, wurship ^ Would, taood Wouldest, (/ and e silent) Wound, woond Wrap, not wrop Wrath, rawth Wrestle {t silent) "Wroth, roth {o as in 7iot) Yea, yay Yellow, yel-Io Yours, {s as z) Yonder, not yarjdcr, yender, nor yiindcr Youths, {th as in thin) Zealot, zcl-ut- Zealous, zel-us * Venison.] — Walker advises that this word should be a tri-syllable in reading the language of Scripture ; but general custom is against him. If his suggestion were adopted, a similar principle ought to be extended to victuals, and business. + Weapon.] — Wep-f>n, according to Walker. APPENDIX II. Lord Brougham's letter of advice — Lord Stanley's speech at University College — Lord Stanhope's speech at Aberdeen — "The Bishops, the Clergy, and the People " — Fraser's yJ/o^az/w^— Contemporary orators — "A Few Words about Sermons" — Cornhill Magazine — " On Clergyman's Sore Throat" — Voices — Pulpit Oratory — Musical Society of London — A Movable Model of the Larynx — The Phonograph and the Microphone — The Telephone — The Edison Telephone — The Edison Tele- phone in London — The Origin of Language — Future of the English Stage — A French Actor's View of the English Stage and English Elocution. LORD BROUGHAM'S ADVICE TO THE LATE LORD MACAULAY, ON ENTERING LIFE. In 1823, when Lord Brougham was at the mature age of forty-four, he addressed the following letter to Lord (then Mr.) Macaulay's father, Z. Macaulay, Esq. : — " My Dear Friend, — My principal object in writing to you to-day is to offer you some suggestions, in consequence of some conversation I have just had with Lord Grey, who has spoken of your son (at Cambridge) in terms of the greatest praise. He takes his account from his son ; but from all I know, and have learnt in other quarters, I doubt not that his judgment is well formed. Now, you of course destine him for the bar ; and assuming that this, and the public objects incidental to it, are in his views, I would fain impress upon you (and through you, upon him) a truth or two which experience has made me aware of, and which I would have given a good deal to have been acquainted with earlier in life from the experience of others. " First. That the foundation of all excellence is to be laid in early application to general knowledge is clear; that he is already aware of; and equally so it is (of which he may not be so well aware) that profes- sional eminence can only be attained by entering betimes into the lowest drudgery, the most repulsive labours of the profession ; even a year in an attorney's office, as the law is now practised, I should not hold too severe a task, or too high a price to pay, for the benefit it must surely lead to ; but at all events, the life of a special pleader, I am quite convinced, is the thing before being called to the bar. A young man whose mind has once been imbued with general learning, and has acquired classical propensities, will never sink into a mere drudge. He will always save himself harmless from the dull atmospheie he must live and work in ; and the sooner he Appendix II.] KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES ON ELOCUTION. 441 will emerge from it, and arrive at eminence. But what I wish to inculcate especially, with a view to the great talent for public speaking which your son happily possesses, is that he should cultivate that talent in the only way in which it can reach the height of the art : and I wish to turn his attention to two points. I speak upon this subject with the authority both of experience and observation ; I have made it very much my study in theory ; have written a great deal upon it which may never see the light ; and something which has been published ; have meditated much, and conversed much on it with famous men ; have had some little practical experience in it, but have prepared for much more than I ever tried, by a variety of laborious methods ; reading, writing, much translation, compos- ing in foreign languages, &c. ; and I have lived in times when there were great orators among us ; therefore I reckon my opinion worth listening to, and the rather, because I have the utmost confidence in it myself, and I should have saved a world of trouble and much time had I started with a conviction of its truth. " I. The first point is this : The beginning of the art is to acquire a habit of easy speaking ; and in whatever way this can be had (which individual inclination or accident will generally direct, and may safely be allowed to do so) it must be had. Now, I differ from all other doctors of rhetoric in this ; I say let him first of all learn to speak easily and fluently ; as well and as sensibly as he can no doubt, but at any rate let him learn to speak. This is to eloquence, or good public speaking, what the being able to talk in a child is to correct grammatical speech. It is the requisite foundation; and on it you must build. Moreover, it can only be acquired young ; therefore let it by all means, and at any sacrifice, be gotten hold of forth- with. But in acquiring it every sort of slovenly error will also be acquired. It must be got by a habit of easy writing (which, as Windham said, proved hard reading) ; by a custom of talking much in company ; by debating in speaking societies, with little attention to rule, and mere love of saying something at any rate, than of saying anything well. I can even suppose that more attention is paid to the matter in such discussions than to the manner of saying it ; yet still to say it easily, ad libitum, to be able to say what you choose, and what you have to say. This is the first requisite ; to acquire which, everything else must for the present be sacrificed. " 2. The next step is the grand one ; to convert the style of easy speak- ing into chaste eloquence. And here there is but one rule. I do earnestly entreat your son to set daily and nightly before him the Greek models. First of all he may look to the best modern speeches (as he probably has already) ; Burke's best compositions, as the Thoughts on the Cause of the present Discontents ; Speech on the American Conciliation, and On the Nabob of Arcofs Debt ; Fox's Speech on the Westminster Scrutitiy (the first of which he should pore over till he has it by heart) ; On the Russiati Armament ; and On the War, 1803 ; with one or two of Windham's best, and very few, or rather none, of Sheridan's ; but he must by no means stop here ; if he would be a great orator he must go at once to the fountain- head, and be familiar with every one of the great orations of Demosthenes. I take it for granted that he knows those of Cicero by heart : they are very beautiful, but not very useful, except perhaps the Milo pro Ligario, 442 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix II. and one or two more ; but the Greek must positively be the model ; and merely reading it, as boys do, to know the language, won't do at all ; he must enter into the spirit of each speech, thoroughly know the position of both parties, follow each turn of the argument, and make the absolutely perfect, and most chaste and severe composition familiar to his mind. His taste will improve every time he reads and repeats to himself (for he should have the fine passages by heart), and he will learn how much may be done by a skilful use of a few words, and a rigorous rejection of all superfluities. In this view I hold a familiar knowledge of Dante to be next to Demos- thenes. It is in vain to say that imitations of these models won't do for our times. First, I do not counsel any imitation, but only an imbibing of the same spirit. Secondly, I know from experience that nothing is half so successful in these times (bad though they be) as what has been formed on the Greek models. I use a very poor instance in giving my own experience ; but I do assure you that both in course of law and Parliament, and even to mobs, I have never made so much play (to use a very modern phrase) as when I was almost translating from the Greek. I composed the peroration of my speech for the Queen, in the Lords, after reading and repeating Demosthenes for three or four weeks, and I composed it twenty times over at least, and it certainly succeeded in a very extraordinary degree, and far above any merits of its own. This leads me to remark, that though speaking with writing beforehand is very well until the habit of easy speech is acquired, yet after that he can never write too much ; this is quite clear. It is laborious, no doubt ; and it is more difficult beyond comparison than speaking off-hand ; but it is necessary to perfect oratory, and at any rate it is necessary to acquire the habit of correct diction. But I go further, and say, even to the end of a man's life he must prepare, word for word, most of his finer passages. Now, would he be a great orator or no .'' In other words, would he have almost absolute power of doing good to mankind in a free country, or no 1 So he wills this, he must follow these rules. — BeHeve me, yours, H. Brougham." LORD STANHOPE'S SPEECH AT ABERDEEN. " Now there is one scene of success to which you may think my remarks will not apply. I mean speeches, such as you hear in public assemblies — in the Houses of Lords and Commons, for example — where you find an extemporaneous and immediate reply delivered with great force and effect, to some speech which has only just been uttered. You will find, if you consider this more closely, that the power of making such quick replies is only to be gained by great study and by slow degrees. And I will give you on this subject the opinion of one of the most •judicious, perhaps the most judicious writer who ever wrote upon the subject. I will give you a sentence from the great work of Ouintilian. Does Quintilian think that the mere extemporaneous faculty or power of speaking is derived from genius alone ? He says ' Sine hac quidem conscientia (multum in scribendo laborem insumpsisse) ilia ipsa ex tempore dicendi facultas inanem modo Appendix II.] ON ELOCUTION. 443 loquacitatem dabit et verba in labris nascentia,' Observe that happy ex- pression — 'verba in labris nascentia.' Now I ask you, may not these words remind you of that sort of rant which we sometimes hear on some hustings, and is not this empty babble wholly distinct from that measured, well-considered wisdom which we find to proceed from the leaders of opposite parties in the House? Does it not show, in the clearest manner, that, in the language of Ouintilian, study makes the difference between the mere flow of words, and the real power of addressing argument, and wit, and eloquence, in immediate reply? To make this still clearer to you, I would venture to illustrate my meaning by a story derived from a different career of success. It is related in Italy of a painter, that, having produced a most powerful, though perhaps unfinished, picture, in three days, he asked as its price a hundred sequins. It is said that the churlish patron demurred at the price, saying that the sum seemed to him excessive for the work of three days. ' But what ! ' cried the indignant artist, ' do you forget that I have been thirty years in learning how to make this picture in three days ? ' When, therefore, you see an immediate reply proceed from some of the great leaders of public opinion, do not deceive yourselves by the idea that this was a mere burst of extemporaneous genius, but be assured that there has been study, persevering study, to give the power and faculty of this outburst, which seemed to spring up at the moment, and that there is a deeper source than that moment could supply. " Gentlemen, I feel tempted at this place to state to you, from the highest authority, some of the means by which that important gift of readiness of speech can be most easily and completely acquired. And you will observe that the power of extemporaneous speaking is not con- fined merely, so far as utility goes, to men engaged in public life, but may in many circumstances in private life be found of great advantage. Perhaps you may like to hear some practical advice which came from a man of the highest reputation on this point. No man possessed that power of using in his oratory the right word in the right place — no man carried that gift to a higher degree of perfection, as all parties have owned — than Mr. Pitt. Now my father had the honour to be connected in relationship with that great man — and, as such, he had the privilege of being in the house with him sometimes for many weeks together. Presuming on that familiar intercourse, he told me, he ventured on one occasion to ask Mr, Pitt by what means — by what course of study — he had acquired that admirable readiness of speech — that aptness of finding the right word without pause or hesitation. Mr. Pitt replied that what- ever readiness he might be thought to possess in that respect, he believed that he derived it very much from a practice his father — the great Lord Chatham — had recommended to him. Lord Chatham had bid him take up any book in some foreign language with which he was well acquainted, in Latin, Greek, or French, for example. Lord Chatham then enjoined him to read out of this work a passage in English, stopping where he was not sure of the word to be used in English, until the right word came to his mind, and then proceed. Mr. Pitt states that he had assiduously followed this practice. At first he had often to stop for a while before he could recollect the proper word, but he found the difficulties gradually 444 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix II. disappear, until what was a toil to him at first, became at last an easy and familiar task. Of course I do not mean to say, that with men in general, the same success as in the case of Mr. Pitt, or anything like it, would be found to follow this same course of practice ; although I am able to assure you from other cases I have known, that an experiment of this kind is of great use in removing the difficulties of extemporaneous speaking ; and it not only gives its aid in public speaking, but also in written composition. Moreover, you will find this course has the further advantage of confirming and extending your knowledge of some valuable author who has already been made the subject of study ; and on these grounds it is, as I conceive, by no means unworthy of your adoption." LORD STANLEY'S SPEECH AT UNIVERSITY COLLEGE. "Gentlemen, there is one characteristic of this College, as of the University of which it forms part, which ought not to pass without notice. You were among the first to break in upon the old routine which practically almost limited English teaching to classical and mathematical studies. Here, too, the older Universities have followed your lead ; but though much has been done in that respect both at Oxford and Cambridge, yet practi- cally it is there the case that classical and mathematical proficiency secure the highest prizes and the most valuable endowments, while the other more recent branches of study are comparatively unendowed. In this place I am told it is otherwise, and that the student who has taken the highest honours in Natural Philosophy, in Modern Languages, in History, or any other of the branches of study for which prizes have been conferred to-day, is not looked upon as in any way inferior to one whose special acquire- ments may have lain in the direction of Latin and Greek, I am glad also to learn that much stress is laid by those who direct the course of teaching here, on a thorough and scietitific knowledge of that language with which we as Englishmen are most concerned, — / mean our own. No word will fall from me in disparagement of classical literature ; I know its value too well ; but it seems strange that in a country where so many students are familiar with every dialect of Greek, and every variety of classical style, there should be comparatively so few who have really made themselves acquainted with the origin, the history, and the gradual development into its present form of that mother-tongue which is already spoken over half the world, which is destined to yet further geographical extension, and which embodies many of the noblest thoughts that have ever issued from the brain of man. To use words with precision and accuracy, one ought to know their history as well as their present meaning. And, depend upon it, it is the plain Saxon phrase, far more than any term borrowed from Greek or Roman literature, that, whether in speech or in writing, goes straightest and strongest to men's heads and hearts. " We have heard at the Bar, or in Parliament, men whose instantaneous command of words, whose readiness of thought as well as expression, seems the effect of instinct rather than of training. But what is the secret of Appendix II.J ON ELOCUTION: 445 that readiness ? Why, ahnost always it is this, — that the mind has previously been so exercised on similar subjects, that not merely the necessary words, but the necessary arguments and combinations of thought, have become by practice as intuitive as those motions of the body by which we walk, or speak, or do any familiar and every-day act." THE BISHOPS, THE CLERGY, AND THE PEOPLE. Eraser's Magazine^ No. 182, Vol. XXXL " We repeat, that this mode of slurring the Liturgy is productive of positive injtcry. When the prayers and lessons are mumbled over in this sing-song way (the derisive name in the sixteenth century was ' Mum- ble-Matins '), much of the devotion of the Jirst, and even more of the instruction of the second, are lost. ' You preach the prayers,' is the retort of the intoners to their objecting brethren. Now there may be, and often is, justice in the censure ; but because Tomkins cannot play one of Mozart's masses upon the organ, is Bumble to try it on the hiirdy-gtirdy ? Because A declaims Paul's pleading before Agrippa, as if he were Sir Thomas Wilde personating the indignation of Mr. Carus Wilson at some Jersey jurat, is that any reason why B should drop all emphasis, and stifle every inflection of feeling, as if he were a Westminster scholar at Trinity, determined to outrage the Dean ? The fact is, and, however mortifying, it ought to be told, that very few of the English Clergy know how to read. We can, if required, produce the highest authority for this assertion. We have ourselves heard the late Bishop of London * express his surprise at the getieral deficiency in this most essential accomplishment, even among the clergy of his own diocese. Yet why should he be surprised ? Who can learn except he be taught ? And, however favourable the Poetics of Aristotle, or the Mechanics of Whewell, may be to the growth of spiritual qualities, their most ardent admirers will scarcely claim for them any beneficial influence upon elocution. A partial remedy is easy and at hand. There is already, in full operation at Cambridge, a Theo- logical Examination for students who have taken their B.A. degree. It is familiarly known as ' The Involuntary Voluntary ; ' for, while the Uni- versity leaves it open, many of the Bishops have announced their inten- tion of refusing ordination to all candidates who have not passed it. Now, let reading the Liturgy form a branch of this examination, and let the certificate of the Examiner be essential to afiy Eriday interview at Lon- don House. We confess that one obstacle remains to be removed, and that is, the difficulty of finding an examiner, although unquestionably it is possible to be a judge of reading, without being able to read ; just as one may appreciate a landscape of Claude without having power to paint it." * Blomfield. 446 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix II. CONTEMPORARY ORATORS. Fraser's Magazine, No. 184, Vol. XXXI. "Anti-Corn-Law Leagues, and Agricultural Protection Societies; Exeter Hall enthusiasts, and Crown and Anchor brawlers ; holders of ' monster ' meetings, and Protestant Operative Associations ; Ministerial speeches at anniversary dinners, and Chartist harangues to the dregs of the populace : each and all, though opposed as the poles in the principles they propound and the objects they seek to attain, agree, with a marvel- lous unanimity only paralleled by the instinct of self-preservation, in sub- mitting their cause to the suffrage of the people, and in seeking to impart in the discussions of the legislature an influence in their favour derived from the public out of doors. The whole empire is from time to time under tlie influence of public speakers. Oratory is a severe and exacting art. Its object is not merely to excite the passions or sway the judgment, but also to produce models for the delight or admiration of mankind. // is a sttcdy which will not brook a divided attention. The orator speaks rarely, and at long intervals, during which he saturates his mind with his subject, while casting it in the mould to which his taste guides him. But the exigencies of modern political warfare have called into being a class of public speakers, whose effusions fall as far short of those of the professed orator in permanent beauty as they excel them in immediate utility. The most popular and powerful speakers in the House are those who, rejecting the beautiful, apply themselves to the practical." A FEW WORDS ABOUT SERMONS. CortiMll Magazine, May 1861. " And who is in fault — the preachers or the people ? I am about to demonstrate that the preachers and the people are both in fault, and to weigh out to each their due proportion of censure, as impartially as if Themis held the scales herself. " In themselves sermons are no worse than they were before, and no better ; but the people are better, that is to say, they expect something better than their grandfathers expected. The constant reading of leading articles in newspapers, and ' crack ' articles in magazines, has created an appetite for luxury in composition. Even the unwashed know something of the difference between good writing and mere declamation ; the school- master has been abroad long enough to make them at home at least in the English language. " A modern congregation is probably not more anxious for improvement tlian a congregation of the time of Oueen Anne ; but it is certainly more attentive, and, unfortunately for the preacher, it is certainly more critical. I Appendix II.] ON ELOCUTION. i,i,-j It has no idea of taking him, personally, at his own valuation. Nor is it by any means prepared even to take his assertions, indiscriminately, for ' gospel.' " All this time the clergy have been stationary. In Greek and Latin, no doubt, they have advanced as fast as their age, or faster. University men now write Greek Iambics, as every one knows, rather better than Sophocles, and would no more think of violating the Pause than of violating an oath. A good proportion of them also are perfectly at home in the calculation of perihelions, nodes, mean motions, and other interesting things of the same kind, which it is unnecessary to specify more particularly. So far the clergy are at least on a level with their age. But this is all that can be said. When we come to their tnother- tongiie a different story is to be told. Their English — the English of their sermons — is nearly where it was a hundred years ago. The author of ' Twenty Years in the Church ' makes the driver of a coach remark to his hero, \}a.-a.\. yotaig gentlemen from college preparing to take orders appear to have learnt everything except their own language. And so they have. Exceptions, of course, there are, many and bright ; but in the main the charge is true. The things in which, compared with former ages, they excel so conspicuously, are the very things which have least concern with their special calling. The course of their progress has reversed the course of charity ; — it began abroad, and has never yet reached home." ON CLERGYMAN'S SORE THROAT, Cults ^'■Lecture on Readiftg Aloud." " This condition of throat, so common amongst the clergy, is produced either by excessive use of the voice in continuously severe duty, or by misdirected effort in the art of vocalisation. Barristers endure without ill consequences more severe and continuous vocal exercise than the clergy. The chief distinction is, that the voice of the barrister is produced for speaking, that of the clergyman for reading. If this malady were simply the result of overworking the voice, barristers ought to suffer from it as much as the clergy, nay, more, for the rate of utterance being far greater in speaking than in reading, it is evident that the organ of voice performs more work in a given time in public speaking than in public reading. From this circumstance it might be inferred that the organ of voice is able to do more work in speaking than in reading. If all the clergy, and if all other public readers, suffered from this malady, such an inference might be valid : but some public readers only suffer, and those are commonly not the men who read aloud most, or those who are weak of constitution. " The organ of voice, it is true, like every other organ, may be over- worked, and very often is tasked beyond its powers by singers, speakers, and readers. Long-continued overwork induces great fatigue, with a sense of exhaustion in the throat, and then pain is experienced in every attempt to vocalise. Morbid conditions of the throat, familiar to medicine, are 448 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix IT. found in connection with this state of the voice. Medical treatment, how- ever, is capable of removing these ill effects of overwork, and the voice again becomes able to perform its usual amount of work. " The case, however, is different in regard to Clergyman's sore throat ; for although the morbid condition of the throat may yield to medical treatment, yet the voice is seldom able to perform its usual amount of work for long together, in consequence of the occurrence of pain and distress in the act of producing voice to read aloud : and not only is vocalisation painful, but the voice is found to be less under control than formerly, and, as a consequence, the character of the reading is deterio- rated. " Rest, continual cessation from vocal effort, which is so beneficial to the overworked voice (whether in singing, speaking, or reading) in regain- ing its power, seems to give but little power to the reader suffering from Clergyman's sore throat. All these circumstances concur in confirmation of the view that Clergyman's sore throat is not the result of excessive, but of misdirected effort in producing voice. " The song-note and speech-note are essentially different, yet each may be produced in their respective work of singing and speaking for several hours daily without injury to the throat. It is only the speech-note, as produced for reading, that induces this condition. I observe that the highly-cultivated voice of the singer, and the instinctively-produced voice of spontaneous speaking, can alike be exercised without fatigue and without pain. Thus art successfully competes with nature. The voice instinctively produced for spontaneous speaking is equalled by the highly-cultivated voice of the singing school — the pure tone of the Italian system. This is indeed a triumph of art : and we see the voice of reading, which is not instinctive, on the one hand, nor cultivated on the other, is unable, in most cases, to effect its purpose, and frequently breaks down under moderate work. " This suggests that the voice must be either instinctively produced like the one, or highly cultivated like the other, in order to last. But in reading it cannot be instinctive ; for even in those cases where the language is recited from memory, as many clergymen go through our Morning Service, we find that the close connection of the thought, language, and voice of spontaneous speaking does not exist The alternative, there- fore, of a highly-cultivated voice must be adopted ; and by this term I do not mean the application of those rules of reading which are taught by elocution masters, but a cultivation of the voice on sound acoustic and physiological principles analogous to those which are so eminently suc- cessful in cultivating the voice of song. " This is not mere theory. Voices have been cultivated on such prin- ciples with great success. Weak ones have been strengthened, and greatly improved in flexibility and tone : and even those supposed to be per- manently silenced by long-continued Clergyman's sore throat have been restored to public usefulness." Appendix II.] ON ELOCUTION. 449 VOICES. " Far before the eyes or the mouth or the habitual gesture, as a revela- tion of character, is the quahty of the voice and the manner of using it. It is the first thing that strikes us in a new acquaintance, and it is one of the most unerring tests of breeding and education. There are voices which have a certain truthful ring about them — a certain something unforced and spontaneous, that no training can give. Training can do much in the way of making a voice, but it can never compass more than a bad imitation of this quality ; for the very fact of its being an imitation, how- ever accurate, betrays itself, like rouge on a woman's cheeks, or a wig, or dyed hair. On the other hand, there are voices which have the jar of falsehood in every tone, and that are as full of warning as the croak of the raven or the hiss of the serpent. These are in general the naturally hard voices which make themselves caressing, thinking by that to appear sympathetic • but the fundamental quality strikes through the overlay, and a person must be very dull indeed who cannot detect the pretence in that slow, drawling, would-be affectionate voice, with its harsh undertone and sharp accent whenever it forgets itself. But, without being false or hypocritical, there are voices which puzzle as well as disappoint us, because so entirely inharmonious with the appearance of the speaker. For instance, there is that thin treble squeak we sometimes hear from the mouth of a well-grown portly man, when we expected the fine rolling utterance which would have been in unison with his outward seeming ; and, on the other side of the scale, where we looked for a shrill head voice or a tender musical cadence, we get that hoarse chest voice with which young and pretty girls sometimes startle us. In fact, it is one of the characteristics of the modern girl of a certain type ; just as the habitual use of slang is characteristic of her, or that peculiar rounding of the elbows and turning out of the wrists, which are gestures that, like the chest voice, instinctively belong to men only, and have to be learnt and practised by women. " Nothing betrays so much as the voice, save perhaps the eyes, and they can be lowered, and so far their expression hidden. In moments of emotion no skill can hide the fact of disturbed feeling, though a strong will and the habit of self-control can steady the voice when else it would be failing and tremulous. But not the strongest will, nor the largest amount of self-control, can keep it natural as well as steady. It is deadened, veiled, compressed, like a wild creature tightly bound and unnaturally still. One feels that it is done by an effort, and that if the strain were relaxed for a moment the'wild creature would burst loose in rage or despair, and the voice would break out into the scream of passion or quiver away into the falter of pathos. And this very effort is as eloquent as if there had been no holding down at all, and the voice had been left to its own impulse unchecked. Again, in fun and humour, is it not the voice that is expressive, even more than the face ? The twinkle of the eye, the hollow in the under lip, the dimples about the mouth, the play of the eyebrow, are all aids certainly ; but the voice ! The mellow tone that comes into the utterance of one man, the surprised 2 F 4SO KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix II. accents of another, the fatuous simplicity of a third, the philosophical acquiescence of a fourth when relating the most outrageous impossibili- ties — a voice and manner peculiarly Transatlantic, and indeed one of the Yankee forms of fun — do not we know all these varieties by heart? have we not veteran actors whose main point lies in one or other of these varieties ? and what would be the drollest anecdote if told in a voice which had neither play nor significance ? Pathos too — who feels it, however beautifully expressed so far as words may go, if uttered in a dead and wooden voice without sympathy ? But the poorest attempts at pathos will strike home to the heart if given tenderly and harmoniously. And just as certain popular airs of mean association can be made into church music by slow time and stately modulation, so can dead-level literature be lifted into passion or softened into sentiment by the voice alone. "We all know the effect, irritating or soothing, which certain voices have over us ; and we have all experienced that strange impulse of attrac- tion or repulsion which comes from the sound of the voice alone. And generally, if not absolutely always, the impulse is a true one, and any modification which increased knowledge may produce is never quite satis- factory. Certain voices grate on our nerves and set our teeth on edge ; and others are just as calming as these are irritating, quieting us like a composing draught, and setting vague images of beauty and pleasantness afloat in our brains. A good voice, calm in tone and musical in quality, is one of the essentials for a physician; the "bedside voice," which is nothing if it is not sympathetic by constitution. Not false, not made up, not sickly, but tender in itself, of a rather low pitch, well modulated, and distinctly harmonious in its notes, it is the very opposite of the orator's voice, which is artificial in its management and a made voice. Whatever its original quality may be, the orator's voice bears the unmistakable stamp of art and becomes artificiality ; as such it may be admirable — telling in a crowd, impressive in an address — but overwhelming and chilling at home, partly because it is always conscious and never self- forgetting. An orator's voice, with its careful intonation and accurate accent, would be as much out of place by a sick-bed as Court trains and brocaded silk for the nurse. There are certain men who do a good deal by a hearty, jovial, fox-hunting kind of voice — a voice a little thrown up for all that it is a chest voice — a voice with a certain undefined rollick and devil-may-care sound in it, and eloquent of a large volume of vitality and physical health. That, too, is a good property for a medical man. It gives the sick a certain fillip, and reminds them pleasantly of health and vigour ; it may have a mesmeric kind of effect on them — who knows 1 — and induce in them something of Its own state, provided it is not over- powering. But a voice of this kind has a tendency to become insolent in its assertion of vigour, swaggering and boisterous ; and then it is too much for invalided nerves, just as mountain winds or sea breezes would be too much, and the scent of flowers or a hayfield oppressive. The clerical voice, again, is a class voice ; that neat, careful, precise voice, neither wholly made, nor yet quite natural ; a voice which never strikes one as hearty or as having a really genuine utterance, but which yet is not unpleasant if one does not require too much spontaneity. The clerical Appendix II.] ON ELOCUTION. 451 voice, with its mixture of familiarity and oratory, as that of one used to talk to old women in private and to hold forth to a congregation in public, is as distinct in its own way as the mathematician's handwriting ; and any one can pick out blindfold his man from a knot of talkers, without waiting to see the square-cut collar and close white tie. The legal voice is different again ; but this is rather a variety of the orator's than a distinct species — a variety standing midway between that and the clerical, and affording more scope than either. " The voice is much more indicative of the state of the mind than many people know of or allow. One of the first symptoms of failing brain-power is in the indistinct or confused utterance ; no idiot has a clear or melodious voice ; the harsh scream of mania is proverbial ; and no person of prompt and decisive thought was ever known to hesitate or to stutter. A thick, loose, fluffy voice, too, does not belong to the crisp character of mind which does the best active work ; and when we meet with a keen-witted man who drawls, and lets his words drip instead of bringing them out in the sharp incisive way that would be natural to him, we may be sure there is a flaw somewhere, and that he is not what the Americans call ' clear grit ' and * whole-souled ' all through. We all have our company voices, as we all have our company manners, and we get to know the company voices of our friends after a time, and to understand them as we understand their best dresses and state service. The person whose voice absolutely refuses to put itself into company tone startles us as much as if he came to a state dinner in a shooting-jacket. This is a different thing from the insincere and flattering voice, which is never laid aside while it has its object to gain, and which affects to be one thing when it means another. The company voice is only a little bit of finery, quite in its place if not carried into the home, where, however, silly men and women think they can impose on their housemates by assumptions which cannot stand the test of domestic ease. The lover's voice is of course siii generis ; but there is another kind of voice which one hears sometimes that is quite as enchanting — the rich, full, melodious voice which irresistibly suggests sunshine and flowers, and heavy bunches of purple grapes, and a wealth of physical beauty at all four corners. Such a voice is Alboni's ; such a voice we can conceive Anacreon's to have been ; with less lusciousness and more stateliness, such a voice was Walter Savage Lander's. His was not an English voice ; it was too rich and accurate ; and yet it was clear and apparently thoroughly unstudied. Ars celare arieni, perhaps ; there was no greater treat of its kind than to hear Landor read Milton or Homer. Though one of the essentials of a good voice is its clearness, there are certain lisps and catches which are very pretty, though never dignified ; but most of them are exceedingly painful to the ear. It is the same with accents. A dash of brogue, the faintest suspicion of the Scotch twang, even a very little American accent — but very little, like red pepper to be sparingly used, as indeed we may say with the others — gives a certain piquancy to the voice. So does a Continental accent generally, few of us being able to distinguish the French accent from the German, the Polish from the Italian, or the Russian from the Spanish, but lumping them all together as ' a foreign accent ' broadly. Of all the European voices the French is 452 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix II. perhaps the most unpleasant in its quality, and the Italian the most delightful. The Italian voice is a song in itself; not the sing-song voice of an English parish school-boy, but an unnoted bit of harmony. The French voice is thin, apt to become wiry and metallic ; a head voice for the most part, and evidently unsympathetic ; a nervous, irritable voice, that seems more fit for complaint than for love-making ; and yet how laughing, how bewitching it can make itself ! never with the Italian roundness, but cdli- nant in its own half-pettish way, provoking, enticing, arousing. There are some voices that send you to sleep, and others that stir you up ; and the French voice is of the latter kind when setting itself to do mischief and work its own will. Of all the differences lying between Calais and Dover, perhaps nothing strikes the traveller more than the difference in the national voice and manner of speech. The sharp, high-pitched stridulous voice of the French, with its clear accent and neat intonation, is exchanged for the loose, fluffy utterance of England, where clear enunciation is con- sidered pedantic ; where brave men cultivate a drawl, and pretty women a deep chest voice ; where well-educated people think it no shame to run all their words into each other, and to let consonants and vowels drip out like so many drops of water, with not much more distinction between them ; and where no one knows how to educate his organ artistically, without going into artificiality and affectation. And yet the cultivation of the voice is an art, and ought to be made as much a matter of education as a good carriage or a legible handwriting. We teach our children to sing, but we never teach them to speak, beyond correcting a glaring piece of pronun- ciation or so ; in consequence of which we have all sorts of odd voices among us — short yelping voices like dogs, purring voices like cats, croak- ings, and lispings, and quackings, and chatterings ; a very menagerie in fact, to be heard in a room ten feet square, where a little rational cultiva- tion would have reduced the whole of that vocal chaos to order and harmony, and made what is now painful and distasteful beautiful and seductive." — {Saturday Review, November 27///, 1869.) PULPIT ORATORY. " Pulpit oratory is not cultivated in England as it ought to be. Such distinguished preachers as Canon Liddon and the Bishop of Peterborough are brilliant exceptions to the general rule; and though many other names might be mentioned, and will readily recur to our readers' memories, yet, looking to the mass of sermon-deliverers, it must be confessed that oratorical powers are sadly deficient, and that half the clergy who know how to write a good sermon, are ignorant of the proper method of preaching it. In fine, at the present day, there is too much Poppy in the Pulpit. Not that this is a very new complaint. We only make it, because we think that it is high time that all ground for the complaint was removed ; either by the establishment of a body of clergy who should m.ove from one place to another, emphatically as ' preachers ' — without ' cure of souls ' — Appendix II.] ON ELOCUTION: 453 or by the more systematic instruction of candidates for ordination in those pulpit exercises which they will be called upon to discharge, and on the performance of which so much of the success, or failure, of their minis- terial work will be due. " Dean Swift hoped for the time when churches would cease to be ' public dormitories,' and when ' sleep would be no longer looked upon as the most convenient vehicle of good sense.' So, he freely acknowledged to the presence, in his day, of Poppy in the Pulpit. So, too, did Sydney Smith, in another generation. In the preface to the (original edition) of the second volume of his sermons, he says, ' Preaching has become a bye- word for long and dull conversation of any kind ; and whoever wishes to imply, in any piece of writing, the absence of everything agreeable and inviting, calls it a sermon Why call in the aid of paralysis to piety? Is it a rule of oratory to balance the style against the subject, and to handle the most sublime truths in the dullest language and the driest manner ? Is sin to be taken from men, as Eve was from Adam, by casting them into a deep sleep ? or, from what possible perversion of common sense are we all to look like field-preachers in Zembla, holy lumps of ice, numbed into quiescence and stagnation and mumbling ? . . . If a preacher despises energy of manner and labour of composition, from a conviction that his audience is willing, and that his subject alone will support him, he will only add lethargy to languor, and confirm the drowsiness of his hearers by becoming a great example of sleep himself ? ' '' These are very true words, even when applied to a short sermon. What shall be said of the spread of the Poppy in the Pulpit, when the sermon is like to that by the Scotch minister who prided himself on deliver- ing an interminable discourse that contained ' a haill system of divinity ? ' To be called upon to hear such sermons is, indeed, a heavy trial. It is true that ' holy ' George Herbert recommended his parson not to exceed ' an hour in preaching, because all ages have thought that a competency, and he that profits not in that time will less afterwards.' It is also true that the 'judicious ' Hooker mentioned an hour as the proper length for a sermon ; although Cranmer preached for an hour and a half, and Barrow was even more unconscionable in his demands on his hearers' patience. But we must remember that the times are altered, and men with them ; and we do not now depend upon our pulpit orator for communicating to us either the news of the day or that information which we are too ignorant to be able to read and learn for ourselves. This is an age of newspapers and a cheap press ; and when the schoolmaster is abroad, the preacher may limit his sermons. We are removed by more than a century of pro- gress from that period when Bishop Burnet, preaching at the Rolls Chapel, could turn his hour-glass for a second course of sixty minutes, so that his delighted congregation ' almost shouted for joy ; ' or from that day when the good old Archbishop Usher, preaching at St. Martin's Church, was requested by his congregation to continue his sermon after his hour-glass had run out, and so, testifies his biographer, ' concluded with an exhorta- tion full of heavenly matter for almost half an hour ; the whole auditory being so much moved therewith that none went out of church until he had finished his sermon.' But this was an exceptional instance, for we are 454 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix II. assured by the same authority, that the Archbishop was accustomed to preach much more briefly ; ' he never cared to tire his auditory with the length of his sermon, knowing well that, as the satisfaction in hearing decreases, so does the attention also, and people, instead of minding what is said, only listen when there is an end.' These are true and sensible words, and might be taken in conjunction with that acceptable advice of Luther to a young preacher, ' Go boldly into the pulpit ; open your mouth like a man, and be brief.' If this were done, how would it put an end to Poppy in the Pulpit, and how much better would it be for those who are called to hear sermons. *' Still better would be their condition, if they who were called upon to preach sermons were instructed how to deliver them. The want of uni- versity education in oratory is something grievous. The young man who is to have the pastoral charge of so many souls is diligently taught to perfect himself in all the minuticB of the amours of false gods as described in dead languages ; but he is never taught either to preach or compose a sermon * in the vulgar tongue.' When he comes before his Bishop's chaplain for his ordination examination, he is usually required to write a theological essay on a given text ; and this, most probably, is his first introduction to so important a duty of his future office. " The prize for good reading has been established ; but it is yet too soon to pronounce as to its ultimate good, or whether it will drag down the text of the Bible and Prayer-book to the level of a penny-reading. In the debate of the Cambridge Senate on this subject, one of the learned pro- fessors delivered himself of the opinion, that ' good reading is a natural gift, which comes without any effort in many cases ; ' and he probably would allege that good preaching would be similarly developed, and would come to a person in the pulpit as naturally as fruit to a tree or stratagem to Mr. Disraeli. And so. Alma Mater expects her clerical infants to prattle about free will after their own free will, and to bud and bloom with flowers of oratory without any special culture. But what wonder is it, if, instead of the full blossom, we meet with nothing but dry sticks ; and that it should seem like inflicting a needless cruelty on helpless children, to command those who have the charge of their tender years that they should call upon them to hear sermons, when, in a majority of cases, they will find Poppy in the Pulpit?" — {Public opinion, Nov. 6ih, 1875.) MUSICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON. ON THE INFLUENCE OF MUSICAL AND OTHER SOUNDS UPON THE LARYNX, AS SEEN BY THE AID OF THE LARYNGOSCOPE. " This formed the subject of a highly-interesting Lecture delivered before the Society by Dr. Geo. D. Gibb. The first published notice of the instrument was by Mr. Liston, the celebrated surgeon, in his work on Surgery ; but the first person who employed it to study the mechanism of the voice was Professor Garcia, whose researches were brought before the Appendix II.] ON ELOCUTION. 455 Royal Society in 1866, and published in their 'Proceedings.' His obser- vations were founded upon the examination of his own larynx during the act of singing. Subsequently, in 1857, Dr. Turck, of Vienna, employed the instrument medically ; he was followed by Czermak, Battaille, Merkel, and many others. The lecturer observed that sufficient credit had not been given to Garcia for what he had done, as his researches, although much extended, had not been surpassed, and had been palmed off as their own by some subsequent observers. His great knowledge of music has given to his experiments a value of the highest character, which cannot be too much appreciated. In i860 Dr. Gibb commenced his researches with the instrument, as an agent to stuxiy and understand the hidden diseases of both the larynx and windpipe, and the mechanism of sound, whether musical or otherwise. The results of his labours, together with those of Garcia and Battaille, were embodied in his lecture. " The mechanism of the laryngoscope was described and illustrated by a number of reflecting and laryngeal mirrors, manufactured by Weiss and Son. Their mode of application was shown, whether in looking at the interior of the larynx downwards from the back of the throat, or in seeing the back of the nose from below upwards. The lecturer then proceeded to describe briefly the parts of the larynx seen on looking into it with the little mirror ; and this was lucidly done by the aid of a series of large coloured diagrams representing the various cartilages, ligaments, muscles, and membranes entering into its formation. At the bottom of the larynx (which is the prominent cartilaginous box felt in the upper part of the neck externally) is seen an antero-posterior fissure, extremely movable, assuming at times a lozenge, elliptic, or triangular shape, of which the brilliant pearly borders palpitate with surprising rapidity. This is the glottis formed by the true vocal ligaments, or, as they are now generally called, vocal cords. The action of these cords alone gave rise to sound, whether in speaking or singing. The three sets of ligaments attached to the pair of little pitcher-shaped cartilages, called the arytenoid, the lecturer compared to three pair of reins in tandem driving, which acted almost simultaneously during certain acts, such as coughing and swallowing. " The subject of his discourse Dr. Gibb divided into the silent move- ments of the larynx, or non-phonetic, and the phonetic, wherein sounds were produced, whether in speaking or singing, either during inspiration or expiration. " There are two manifestations possessed by the ordinary expiratory voice, which have been long known under the names of chest and falsetto register. The head voice, so well known to vocalists, Dr. Gibb was disposed to reject in his experiments equally with Battaille as opposed to anatomy and physiology. Its range, laryngoscopically, so to speak, is shown by Garcia in his writings. " A series of experiments were now detailed illustrating the determina- tion of the chest register. They consisted of the production of certain sounds of the diatonic scale, and the behaviour of the glottis was carefully noticed and pointed out in the diagrams. The mechanism of the elevation and lowering of sound was next considered, and equally illustrated by extremely interesting experiments and diagrams. In the chest register, ihe I 456 ICING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix II. vocal cords vibrate throughout their whole extent — namely, in their sub- glottic region, their ventricular region, and on their free border; longitudinal tension is generally stronger than in the falsetto register ; and the vibrations become more rapid and ample in proportion as the sound becomes more acute ; the reverse takes place when the sound becomes more grave — the opening of the glottis is rectilinear. " Experiments were related wherein the proceeding was taken advantage of to alternate the production of the same sound in the chest voice and falsetto voice by means of an uninterrupted current of air — to study the inherent glottic modifications of the falsetto register in general. The phenomena resulting from these, as seen in the laryngeal mirror, were described, and are full of interest to the vocalist. The results went to show that in the falsetto register the vocal cords vibrate only on their free border and their ventricular region. The subglottic region, which plays such an important part in the chest register, here ceases to take any direct part in the generation of sound, longitudinal tension is feebler than in the chest register, and the vibrations become less ample and more rapid according as the sound becomes more acute ; but when more grave the reverse takes place. The opening of the glottis is more or less elliptic in accordance with the nature of the voice, and the size and density of the vocal cords themselves. " The lecturer proceeded to notice some of the other phenomena of the voice, including that of inspiration ; the last very difficult to investigate from the pain produced in its manifestation. It is only by the aid of the falsetto register that the inspiratory notes can be obtained, and the glottis is more open than in the expiratory sounds of this register. In the general summary of laryngoscopic observation, besides the phenomena peculiar to each register, it was shown that there were some common to both ; thus the generation of vocal sound never occurs without the vocal cords being stretched and vibrating wholly or in part. The closure of the glottis behind occurs up to certain tonal limits, and is indispensable to the brilliancy and elevation of sound. The false vocal cords take no part whatever in the generation of sound. " Professor Garcia had previously pointed out that the formation of sounds in either register was produced, not from the actual vibrations of the whole or part of the vocal cords, but from the successive explosions which they allowed. Dr. Gibb said his lecture would have been incom- plete without a few words upon the formation of the voice. The vocal cords at the bottom of the larynx exclusively gave rise to the voice, what- ever may be its register or intensity, because the laryngoscope has shown that they alone vibrate in that situation. To one of the Fellows of the Musical Society, Professor Garcia, we were indebted for what the lecturer considered as the true and correct explanation of the formation of the voice. It originated from the compression and expansion of the air, which gave rise to successive and regular explosions in passing through the glottis. The ligaments of the glottis or vocal cords close the passage, and offer a resistance to the passage of air. As soon as the air has accumulated sufficiently, it parts these folds and produces an explosion. But at the same instant, by virtue of their elasticity, and the pressure from Appendix II.] ON ELOCUTION. 457 below being relieved, they meet again to give rise to a fresh explosion, A series of these compressions and expansions, or of explosions, occasioned by the expansive force of the air and the reaction of the glottis, produces the voice. " The sounds ' ha ! ha ! ha ! ' in laughing, offer a familiar illustration of rapid explosions occurring in succession by the opening and closing of the glottis, and form a striking picture in the laryngeal mirror. The quality of the voice is now proved to depend upon simple changes in the mechan- ism of the larynx. The waves of sound generated by the larynx in the column of air contained in the trachea, produce, in a word, vibration of the cords. If they cannot be excited, then sounds are extinguished, and the result is what the lecturer saw instances of almost every other day — namely, aphonia, or loss of voice. " Such were the results obtained by the aid of the laryngoscope. They were but an instalment of what was promised by future observation and experiment in the hands of those members of the lyric art who would devote their energies to the task. From what had been described, Dr. Gibb remarked, it would be readily comprehended that the slightest devia- tion from the healthy standard would materially affect intonation, more especially anything that influenced the tension of the vocal cords. Vocal tension, so to speak, must be uniform and equal on both sides — that is, both cords must be equally and simultaneously influenced by the little cartilages called the arytenoid, which govern and direct the three pairs of reins noticed in the early part of this lecture. " Setting aside altogether in his lecture the notice of any morbid phenomena which affected the voice, the lecturer requested permission merely to refer to the cause of failure, partial or complete, of a portion of the notes of the diatonic scale — whether the middle, the higher, or the lower, or the junction of either — as revealed by the laryngoscope. This, he said, would be found to depend chiefly upon inequality in the power of tension of the two vocal cords ; that is to say, whilst one cord would become stretched to its required length during the utterance of the middle or higher notes, the other did not become so in an equal ratio — hence the parallelism and symmetry so essential to perfect harmony in singing became imperfect. Dr. Gibb claimed to himself the credit of being the first to point out this important fact. He then referred to the condition of the epiglottis, and denied that the loosening of this cartilage could be accom- plished at the will of the singer, as was supposed by some. The reason of this was given, and measures to remedy it referred to. " In conclusion, Dr. Gibb stated, that without any pretensions at all as a vocalist, he had performed various experiments with the view of under- standing the cause of defective voice ; but the interest of the subject grew upon him, and induced him to go more fully into it. Some of the results of his labours he had ventured to bring before them. " An interesting discussion followed, in which Professor Garcia, Mr. Charles Salaman, Mr. Tracy Osborn, the chairman, Mr. Godfroi, and Dr. Richardson, took part. The question of the mental faculties in relation to the physical in vocalism, formed the main topic of the debate." — (The Lancef, April 2Sth, i?>62,.) 458 KING'S COLLEGE LECTURES [Appendix II. A MOVABLE MODEL OF THE LARYNX, ILLUSTRATING A NEW VIEW OF ITS VARIOUS MOVEMENTS. Dy Mr. Edmund y. Spitta, Late Demonstrator of Anatomy at the School of St. George's Hospital. This model has been devised both for the lecturer and the student, being intended to supply the want so often felt of an instrument which shall illustrate mechanically the movements of the Larynx both in respiration and in the production of the voice. Before explaining its action, a brief account of its construction will be premised. The Model, about three times the size of life, is designed to represent a dissected Larynx surmounting the Trachea ; where the Glottis is open as in ordinary inspiration, and the Vocal Cords in their normally quiet state ; the Hyoid bone and Epiglottis, being unnecessary for the present purpose, having been removed. The Laryngeal cartilages are of metal ; the Tracheal rings of iron wire covered with gutta-percha ; whilst the membranous portion of that tube is of indiarubber. The two Laryngeal Joints, the Crico-thyroid and Crico-arytenoid articu- lations, are well displayed by the model : the former being seen as a simple double-hinged ginglymus between the Cricoid and inferior cornua of the Thyroid \ the latter, the Crico-arytenoid, being much more complicated. And as it is on the disposition of this last-named articulation that the laryngeal movements in vocal intonation mainly depend, I shall not, I trust, be wasting time in entering rather fully into its construction. Each Crico-arytenoid joint may be considered as a lateral curvilinear ginglymus, permitting a curved movement only of the arytenoid on the cricoid in a direction outwards, downwards, and backwards : any move- ment forwards being prevented by the bands of fibres which strengthen the capsular ligament at its posterior part. To imitate this articulation was a matter of the greatest difficulty, but at last it has been ingeniously effected by Mr. Hawkesley, the maker of the model, in the following manner. The object in the manufacture of the joint was to give the arytenoid a curved movement outwards^ downwards, and backwards, without allowing them the slightest movement forwards. This has been attained by making the articulating surface of the arytenoid concave, and the articulating surface of the cricoid convex, the two cartilages being kept in apposition by means of a screw passing through a curved slit in the latter surface to be firmly fixed into the former. A momentary inspection of the model will show the joint in action ; and each Aiytenoid will be at once seen to glide in its own limited area outwards, downwards, and backwards, as desired. One word, en passant, may be permitted on the physiological importance of this articulation, because, in my opinion, it has not received sufficient attention. Many observers still believe that the Arytenoids move forwards. 1 I I I Appendix II.] ON ELOCUTION. 459 But this most certainly is an error ; for if it were so, how could the patu- lence of the glottis in respiration be preserved, and how could the increase in- distance between the Thyroid and Arytenoids necessary for the tension of the cords in the production of the voice be obtained ? To proceed : — The muscles of the model are for the most part formed of bags of indiarubber, stuffed with wool, having been cast into the shapes required. They are inserted into the metal by plugs of wood. The Vocal Cords are represented by tubes of indiarubber stretching from the Arytenoids to the Thyroid, being firmly fixed into these cartilages. Their length is in accordance with their normal state during ordinary inspiration, but not when tensed for vocal intonation. So far relative to its Constructiott, we now advance to the Action of the model. >• To imitate the laryngeal movements in respiration and vocal intonation, the model must show the two following operations. Opening and Closing the Glottis^ and Tensing and Relaxing the Cords. I. — Opening and Closing the Glottis. Looking into the model from above, the Glottis is seen open ; and it is hereby intended to show that its ordinary habitual patulence in respiration is not dependent on any one muscle or set of muscles, but rather on the antagonistic tonic action of all the muscles, taken together. Opening and Closing the glottis therefore, in its technical sense, means the disturbance of the natural width of its chink, from whatever causes. Opening the Glottis, viewed in this light, is due to the conjoined action of the lateral