12. "If sound is all, you shall have that pleasure; we will call you the young countess."

13. "That would be mere burlesque, Horace, and would make one ridiculous."

14. "There," replied Horace, " nothing can be more inconsistent with us, than aiming at titles."

15. "For us, I grant you," replied Caroline; "but if they were hereditary, if we had been born to them, if they come to us through belted knights and high-born dames, then we might be proud to wear them. I never shall cease to regret that I was not born under a monarchy."

16. "You seem to forget," said Horace, "that all are not lords and ladies in royal dominions. Suppose your first squeak, as you call it, had been among the lower class; what then?'

17. “I did not mean to take those chances; no, I meant to be born among the higher ranks."

18. "Now, Caroline, is it not better to be born under a government where there are no such ranks, and where the only nobility is talent and virtue?"

19. "Talent and virtue,” said Caroline, with a smile; “but I think wealth constitutes our nobility, and the right of abusing each other, our liberty."

20. "You are as fond of aphorisms," said Horace, Lavatera was."

66 23

21. "Let me ask you," said Caroline, "if our rich men, who ride in their own carriages, who have fine houses, and who count by millions, are not our great men?"

22. "They have all the greatness," said Horace," that money can buy; but this is very limited."

23. "Well, in my opinion," said Caroline, " money is power." 24. "You mistake," said Horace, " money may be temporary power, but talent is power itself; and, when united with

• Lavater, (John Gasper,) a celebrated physiognomist, born at Zurich, in 1741.

virtue, is God-like power, before which the mere man of millions quails."

25. "Well, Horace," said Caroline, "I really wish you the possession of talent, and principle, and wealth into the bargain. The latter, you think, will follow the two former, simply at your beck; you smile, but I feel as determined in my way of thinking, as you do in yours."

SECTION XV.

Monotone.

MONOTONE is a protracted sameness of sound on successive syllables or words.

Monotone, as here used, does not mean a succession of sounds perfectly similar, but simply that a similarity of tone, with slight modifications, prevails throughout the piece to be read.

RULE 15. Language that is grave, grand, or sublime, generally requires the monotone.

EXAMPLES.
Grave.

1. O, thē grāve! the grave! It būries every error; cōvers every defect; extinguishes every resentment.

2. The bell strikes one. We take nō nōte of tīme

But from its loss.

Is wise in man.

To give it then a tongue,

As if an angel spōke,

I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright,

It is the knell of my departed hour.

Grand.

Then the earth shook and trembled; the foundations, also, of the hills moved, and were shaken, because he was wroth. There went up a smōke out of his nōstrils, and fīre out of his mouth

QUESTIONS. What is monotone? Does it mean a succession of sounds perfectly similar? What is the rule for monotone? Give an example.

devoured.

He bowed the heavens, also, and came down, and darkness was under his feet; and he rōde upon a cherub, and did fly; yea, he did fly upou the wings of the wind.

Sublime.

What hand unseen

Impels me onward, through the glowing orbs

Of habitable nature, fār remote,

To the dread confines of eternal night,
To solitudes of vast, unpeopled space,
The deserts of creation, wide and wild,
Where embryo systems and unkindled suns
Sleep in the womb of chaos? Fancy droops.
And thought, astonished, stōps her būtu career.

EXERCISE.

1. In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed befōre my face; the hair of my flesh stood up. It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof; an Image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mōrtal mān be more just than God? Shall a mān bē mōre pūre than his Maker!

2.

3.

Wide as the world is his command,

Vast as eternity his love;

Firm as a rock his, truth shall stand,
When rolling years shall cease to move.

The high-born soul

Disdains to rest her heaven aspiring wing,
Beneath its native quarry. Tired of earth
And this diurnal scene, she springs aloft

5.

6.

7.

Thro' fields of air; pursues the flying storm;
Rides on the volley'd lightning thro' the heavens,
Or, yōked with whirlwinds, and the northern blāst,
Sweeps the long track of day.

Then high she soars

The blue profound, and hovering round the sun,
Beholds him pouring the redundant stream
Of light; beholds his unrelenting sway
Bend the reluctant planets to absolve
The fated rounds of time.

Thence, far effused,

She darts her swiftness up the long career
Of devious comets. Thro' its burning signs
Exulting, measures the perennial wheel
Of nature, and looks back on all the stars,
Whose blended light, as with a milky zone,
Invests the orient. Now amazed, she views
The empyreal waste, where happy spirits hold
Beyond this concave heaven, their calm abode.
So spake the Son; and into terror chang'd
His countenance, too severe to be beheld,
And full of wrath bent on his enemies.
At once, the four spread out their starry wings,
With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs
Of his fierce chariot roll'd, as with the sound
Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host.
He on his impious foes right onward drove,
Gloomy as night. Under his burning wheels;

The steadfast empyrean shook throughout,

All but the throne itself of God.

Full soon

Among them he arrived; in his right hand

8.

Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent
Before him, such as in their souls infix'd
Plagues. They, astonish'd, all resistance lost,
All courage; down their idle weapons dropp'd;

O'er shields, and helmets, and helmed heads, he rode,
Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate,

That wish'd the mountains, now, might be again
Thrown on them, as a shelter from his ire.
Nor less on either side, tempestuous fell
His arrows, from the fourfold visaged four;
Distant with ages, and from the living wheels
Distinct alike with multitude of eyes.

One spirit in them ruled; and every eye
Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire

Among the accursed, that wither'd all their strength,
And, of their wonted vigor, left them drain'd.

CHAPTER VI.

MODULATION.

MODULATION implies the variations of the voice that are heard in reading or speaking.

Good reading depends very much upon a proper modulation. When skillfully employed, it gives life, spirit, and beauty, to what would otherwise be monotonous and uninteresting.

In order for a reader or speaker to acquire a free, easy, and natural control of his vocal organs, it will be necessary, in the first place, to become perfectly familiar with all the elementary sounds. These have already been presented on a preceding page, and when uttered as there directed, must necessarily

QUESTIONS. What is modulation? What effect has it when skillfully employed? How may a reader acquire a free, easy, and natural control of his voice?