III. Pure Tone.

1. You bells in the steeple, rìng, ring out your changes,
How many soèver they bè,

And let the brown mèadow-lark's note as he ránges
Come over, come over to mè.

2. The splendor falls on castle walls,
And snowy sùmmits old in stòry;
The long light shakes across the lakes,

And the wild càtaract leaps in glòry.

3. The maxim that no people ought to be free till they are fit to use their freedom, is worthy of the fool in the old story, who resolved not to go into the water till he had learned to swim. If men are to wait for liberty till they become wise and good in slavery, they may indeed wait forèver.

IV. Orotund.

1. Roll òn, thou deep and dark blue òcean-ròll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vàin.

2. I would call upon all the true sons of New England to cooperate with the laws of mán and the justice of Heaven.

4.

3. Rise, like a cloud of incense, from the earth!
Thou kingly spirit, throned among the hills,
Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven,
Great hierarch! tell thou the silent skỳ,
And tell the stàrs, and tell yon rising sùn,
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises Gòd.

The hills,

Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sùn,-the vàles,
Stretching in pensive quietness between;

The venerable wòods-rìvers that move

In majesty, and the complaining brooks,

That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old ocean's gray and choly waste,-

Are but the solemn decorations all

Of the great tomb of màn.

V. Aspirated Orotund.

1. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds.

2. How reverend is the face of this tall pile,
Whose ancient pillars rear their marble heads,
To bear aloft its arched and ponderous roof,
By its own weight made steadfast and immovable,
Looking tranquillity! It strikes an awe

And tèrror on my aching sight; the tombs
And monumental caves of death look cold,

And shoot a chìllness to my trembling heart.

3. I see the smoke of the furnaces where manacles and fetters are still forged for human limbs. I see the visages of those who by stealth and at midnight labor in this work of hell, foul and dark, as may becòme the artificers of such instruments of misery and torture.

V.

MOVEMENT, OR RATE OF UTTERANCE.

S the stately march of the solemn procession and the light trip of the joyous child are indicative of the states of mind which prompt them, so the movement which is proper in reading depends upon the emotion to be expressed. If the reader should ask himself what would be his manner of walking while under the influence of any particular emotion, it would be a safe guide to his rate of utterance. Animated and playful moods would manifest themselves in a light and buoyant step, sometimes tripping and bounding along. Hurry and precipitancy are indicated by corresponding haste and impetuosity of movement.

On the contrary, deep emotions of solemnity and awe can exist only with very slow movements. Dignity requires in its expression not only slowness but regularity. Violent passion gives rise to irregular and impulsive speech.

X

I. Rapid Movement.

1. So light to the croup the fair làdy he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung.

2. Under his spurning feet, the road,

Like an arrowy Alpine rìver, flowed,
And the landscape sped away behind,
Like an ocean flying before the wìnd.

3. Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,

Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Pointing tails and pricking whiskers,
Families by tens and dozens,
Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives-
Followed the Piper for their lìves.

4. And there was mounting in hot hàste,

The steed, the must'ring squadron, and the clatt'ring car Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,

And swiftly forming in the ranks of war.

5. Pull, pull in your lassoes, and bridle to steèd,

And speed, if ever for life you would speed;

And ride for your lives, for your lives you must ride,
For the plain is aflàme, the praìrie on fire,
And feet of wild horses hard flying before

I hear like a sèa breaking high on the shòre:
While the buffalo come like the surge of the sea,
Driven far by the flame, driving fast on us three,
As a hurricane comes, crushing pàlms in his ire.

II. Moderate.

1. Eloquence consists simply in feeling a truth yourself, and in making those who hear you feel it.

2. Flower in the crannied wáll,

I pluck you out of the crannies;-
Hold you here, root and àll, in my hand,
Little flower-but if I could understand
What you are, root and áll, and áll in all,
I should know what God and màn is.

3. A vain man's motto is, "Win gold and wear it;" a generous man's, "Win gold and shàre it;" a miser's, “Win gold and spare it;" a profligate's, "Win gold and spend it;" a broker's, "Win gold and lend it;" a gambler's or a fool's, "Win gold and lòse it;" but a wise man's, "Win gold and ùse it.”

4. The brave man is not he who feels no fear,

For that were stupid and irràtional;

But he, whose noble soul its fear subdùes,

And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.

5. To gild refined góld, to paint the lily,

To throw perfume on the violet,

To smooth the íce, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excèss.

III. Slow.

1. Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlàsting, thou art Gòd.

2. O ye loud waves! and O ye forests high!

And O ye clouds that far above me soared!
Thou rising sùn! thou blue rejoicing sky!
Yea, everything that is and will be free!
Bear witness for me, wheresoe'er ye be,
With what deep worship I have still adored
The spirit of divinest liberty!

3. I would invoke those who fill the seats of jústice, and all who minister at her àltar, that they execute the wholesome and necessary severity of the law. I invoke the ministers of our religion, that they proclaim its denunciation of these crimes, and add its solemn sanctions to the authority of human laws. If the pulpit be sílent, whenever or whèrever there may be a sinner, bloody with this guilt, within the hearing of its voice, the pulpit is false to its trùst.

4. Slow, slow! toll it low,

As the sèa-waves break and flow;

With the same dull, slumberous motion
As his ancient mother Ocean

Rocked him on through storm and calm,
From the iceberg to the pàlm:

So his drowsy ears may deem

That the sound which breaks his dream
Is the ever-moaning tide

Washing on his vessel's side.

IV. Very Slow.

1. O thou Etèrnal One! whose presence bright
All space doth óccupy, all motion guìde;
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight;
Thou only God! There is no God besìde.