McGuffey's Sixth Eclectic Reader Part 13

Pa.s.sion and Grief

"Come back! come back!" he cried, in grief, "Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter! O, my daughter!"

Plaintive

I have lived long enough: my way of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf: And that which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have.

Calm

A very great portion of this globe is covered with water, which is called sea, and is very distinct from rivers and lakes.

Fierce Anger

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, And shook his very frame for ire; And--"This to me!" he said,-- "An 't were not for thy h.o.a.ry beard, Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas' head!

Loud and Explosive

"Even in thy pitch of pride, Here, in thy hold, thy va.s.sals near, I tell thee, thou 'rt defied!

And if thou said'st I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"

VI. GESTURE. (55)

Gesture is that part of the speaker's manner which pertains to his att.i.tude, to the use and carriage of his person, and the movement of his limbs in delivery.

Every person, in beginning to speak, feels the natural embarra.s.sment resulting from his new position. The novelty of the situation destroys his self-possession, and, with the loss of that, he becomes awkward, his arms and hands hang clumsily, and now, for the first time, seem to him worse than superfluous members. This embarra.s.sment will be overcome gradually, as the speaker becomes familiar with his position; and it is sometimes overcome at once, by a powerful exercise of the attention upon the matter of the speech. When that fills and possesses the mind, the orator is likely to take the att.i.tude which is becoming, and, at least, easy and natural, if not graceful.

1st. The first general direction that should be given to the speaker is, that he should stand erect and firm, and in that posture which gives an expanded chest and full play to the organs of respiration and utterance.

2d. Let the att.i.tude be such that it can be shifted easily and gracefully.

The student will find, by trial, that no att.i.tude is so favorable to this end as that in which the weight of the body is thrown upon one leg, leaving the other free to be advanced or thrown back, as fatigue or the proper action of delivery may require.

The student who has any regard to grace or elegance, will of course avoid all the gross faults which are so common among public speakers, such as resting one foot upon a stool or bench, or throwing the body forward upon the support of the rostrum.

3d. Next to att.i.tude, come the movements of the person and limbs. In these, two objects are to be observed, and, if possible, combined, viz., propriety and grace. There is expression in the extended arm, the clinched hand, the open palm, and the smiting of the breast. But let no gesture be made that is not in harmony with the thought or sentiment uttered; for it is this harmony which const.i.tutes propriety. As far as possible, let there be a correspondence between the style of action and the train of thought.

Where the thought flows on calmly, let there be grace and ease in gesture and action. Where the style is sharp and abrupt, there is propriety in quick, short, and abrupt gesticulation. Especially avoid that ungraceful sawing of the air with the arms, into which all ill-regulated fervor betrays many young speakers.

What is called graceful manner, can only be attained by those who have some natural advantages of person. So far as it is in the reach of study or practice, it seems to depend chiefly upon the general cultivation of manners, implying freedom from all embarra.s.sments, and entire self-possession. The secret of acquiring a graceful style of gesture, we apprehend, lies in the habitual practice, not only when speaking but at all times, of free and graceful movements of the limbs.

There is no limb nor feature which the accomplished speaker will not employ with effect, in the course of a various and animated delivery. The arms, however, are the chief reliance of the orator in gesture; and it will not be amiss to give a hint or two in reference to their proper use.

First--It is not an uncommon fault to use one arm exclusively, and to give that a uniform movement. Such movement may, sometimes, have become habitual from one's profession or employment; but in learners, also, there is often a predisposition to this fault.

Second--It is not unusual to see a speaker use only the lower half of his arm. This always gives a stiff and constrained manner to delivery. Let the whole arm move, and let the movement be free and flowing.

Third--As a general rule, let the hand be open, with the fingers slightly curved. It then seems liberal, communicative, and candid; and, in some degree, gives that expression to the style of delivery. Of course there are pa.s.sages which require the clinched hand, the pointed finger, etc., etc.; but these are used to give a particular expression.

Fourth--In the movements of the arm, study variety and the grace of curved lines.

When a gesture is made with one arm only, the eye should be cast in the direction of that arm; not at it, but over it.

All speakers employ, more or less, the motions of the head. In reference to that member, we make but one observation. Avoid the continuous shaking and bobbing of the head, which is so conspicuous in the action of many ambitious public speakers.

The beauty and force of all gesture consist in its timely, judicious, and natural employment, when it can serve to ill.u.s.trate the meaning or give emphasis to the force of an important pa.s.sage. The usual fault of young speakers is too much action. To emphasize all parts alike, is equivalent to no emphasis; and by employing forcible gestures on unimportant pa.s.sages, we diminish our power to render other parts impressive.

ELOCUTION AND READING. (57)

The business of training youth in elocution, must be commenced in childhood. The first school is the nursery. There, at least, may be formed a distinct articulation, which is the first requisite for good speaking.

How rarely is it found in perfection among our orators.

"Words," says one, referring to articulation, should "be delivered out from the lips, as beautiful coins, newly issued from the mint; deeply and accurately impressed, perfectly finished; neatly struck by the proper organs, distinct, in due succession, and of due weight." How rarely do we hear a speaker whose tongue, teeth, and lips, do their office so perfectly as to answer to this beautiful description! And the common faults in articulation, it should be remembered, take their rise from the very nursery.

Grace in eloquence, in the pulpit, at the bar, can not be separated from grace in the ordinary manners, in private life, in the social circle, in the family. It can not well be superinduced upon all the other acquisitions of youth, any more than that nameless, but invaluable, quality called good breeding. Begin, therefore, the work of forming the orator with the child; not merely by teaching him to declaim, but what is of more consequence, by observing and correcting his daily manners, motions, and att.i.tudes. You can say, when he comes into your apartment, or presents you with something, a book or letter, in an awkward and blundering manner, "Return, and enter this room again," or, "Present me that book in a different manner," or, "Put yourself in a different att.i.tude." You can explain to him the difference between thrusting or pushing out his hand and arm, in straight lines and at acute angles, and moving them in flowing circular lines, and easy graceful action. He will readily understand you. Nothing is more true than that the motions of children are originally graceful; it is by suffering them to be perverted, that we lay the foundation of invincible awkwardness in later life.

In schools for children, it ought to be a leading object to teach the art of reading. It ought to occupy threefold more time than it does. The teachers of these schools should labor to improve themselves. They should feel that to them, for a time, are committed the future orators of the land.

It is better that a girl should return from school a first-rate reader, than a first-rate performer on the pianoforte. The accomplishment, in its perfection, would give more pleasure. The voice of song is not sweeter than the voice of eloquence; and there may be eloquent readers, as well as eloquent speakers. We speak of perfection in this art: and it is something, we must say in defense of our preference, which we have never yet seen. Let the same pains be devoted to reading, as are required to form an accomplished performer on an instrument; let us have, as the ancients had, the formers of the voice, the music masters of the reading voice; let us see years devoted to this accomplishment, and then we should be prepared to stand the comparison.

Reading is indeed, a most intellectual accomplishment. So is music, too, in its perfection. We do by no means undervalue this n.o.ble and most delightful art, to which Socrates applied himself even in his old age. But one recommendation of the art of reading is, that it requires a constant exercise of mind. It involves, in its perfection, the whole art of criticism on language. A man may possess a fine genius without being a perfect reader; but he can not be a perfect reader without genius.

ON MODULATION. (59)

FROM LLOYD.

'T is not enough the voice' be sound and clear', 'T is modulation' that must charm the ear.

When desperate heroes grieve with tedious moan, And whine their sorrows in a seesaw tone, The same soft sounds of unimpa.s.sioned woes, Can only make the yawning hearers doze.

The voice all modes of pa.s.sion can express That marks the proper word with proper stress: But none emphatic can that speaker call, Who lays an equal emphasis on all.

Some o'er the tongue the labored measure roll, Slow and deliberate as the parting toll; Point every stop, mark every pause so strong, Their words like stage processions stalk along.

All affectation but creates disgust; And e'en in speaking, we may seem too just.

In vain for them' the pleasing measure flows, Whose recitation runs it all to prose: Repeating what the poet sets not down, The verb disjointing from its favorite noun, While pause, and break, and repet.i.tion join To make it discord in each tuneful line'.

Some' placid natures fill the allotted scene With lifeless drawls, insipid and serene; While others' thunder every couplet o'er, And almost crack your ears with rant and roar; More nature oft, and finer strokes are shown In the low whisper than tempestuous tone; And Hamlet's hollow voice and fixed amaze, More powerful terror to the mind conveys Than he, who, swollen with impetuous rage, Bullies the bulky phantom of the stage.

He who, in earnest studies o'er his part, Will find true nature cling about his heart.

The modes of grief are not included all In the white handkerchief and mournful drawl: A single look' more marks the internal woe, Than all the windings of the lengthened Oh'!