astonishment of the young man, another year passed with not even a new exercise, but a combination of those of the preceding years. Three years of toil had expired and he awaited the advice of the vocalist. He was told that he had received all that it was in the power of his teacher to impart as regarded the cultivation of his voice, and he was urged to go forth into the world and use it. Thus it is with reading and speaking; the voice is first to be formed. It is to be strengthened by an increased capacity of the lungs, and an acquired strong respiratory action. Its thorough discipline must be mastered, from the lightest whisper to the loudest shouting; not with a view to actual use, but for securing a command over every degree of force and pliancy. Even in a few weeks a stentorian power can be imparted to a comparatively weak voice. This practice, if understood, is highly invigorating and enables a person to operate easily with either the lightest or the most energetic efforts. When I speak of the capacity of the lungs, I do not mean a large chest simply, for the chest may be broad but the lungs may resemble the dried up meat of a filbert. Dumb-bells do not expand the lungs but merely enlarge their chamber. The only true means is by systematic, artistic breathing; and hardening the muscles around the neck by wearing the clothing sufficiently loose to allow the air to circulate freely around them. It is absolutely necessary, before fluent and easy utterance, to have command over a greater quantity of air in the lungs, and to invigorate and brace up the muscles around the throat, to give them an expansive energy to admit and expel air to any degree of intensity whatever, without injurious effects. To make speech sonorous and metallic in its character the sides must be practised to expand well with the head erect, the chest forward and the lungs kept filled. The lungs are like the bellows to an organ; for it will not emit full, musical sounds unless the bellows freely supply the air. In reading even in a sitting posture never huddle up or bend over, but sit erect, and keep otherwise as near as possible to a standing posture. Whether the voice is used as by a reader or not, those who value their lungs and vocal powers should attend particularly to the ventilation of their apartments, especially those in which they sleep. They should never sit or sleep in a room that is not properly aired. The author, even in mid winter has his windows lowered several inches, both day and night, or in some manner a door ajar, leading to another apartment or to a hall way, through which fresh air is constantly admitted. The vocal organs become enervated and paralyzed for want of action, but a far worse fate awaits them if deprived of pure air, for then they become diseased. When actually speaking do not mistake loudness for intensity. The one is merely voice or bellowing: the other is the meaning deeply imbued with the bright hues of feeling. The orator may gesticulate with the desperation of a lunatic and shout loud enough to tear the welkin, but this is monstrous; all that is needed when the voice is strong, is earnestness. The practice of the voice is one thing; its application, very nearly another. The voice must be practised to its fullest capability to render it strong and flexible, but no one need to SHOUT while actually speaking. He who vociferates at any time without judgment, will injure the vocal organs; he who smothers the voice will be heard with difficulty. It must be clear and penetrating; every stroke of the voice should be perceived, every vibration instantly apprehended. Pure, firm, decided tones are formed only on a full, retentive breath and by a quick opening of the mouth; like the foot promptly lifted as in marching without shuffling. Deep tones express our inmost feelings; and it is by a perfect control, a power to economize the breath, that great speakers hold audiences in breathless expectation, as they alarmingly but gradually increase the volume and deepen the tones of their voices, and then delicately diminish the power to almost a mere breathing expression. When the student has at last learned the right way he will gladly leave the tones of conversation, when in public, and set utterance free from trammels, and urge it forth in broad emphatic speaking, the only style that sways and carries along an audience. THE SILENT PRACTICE. The best practice is in the open air; the next in a large hall or well-ventilated room. But if a person is so circumstanced as not to be able to practise aloud, without greatly annoying people, he can use a means, which I call the SILENT PRACTICE, by which the voice can be even skilfully improved. In this exercise he is to sufficiently intone the words to give them audibility, and by intense will and a determined inward mental and an outward physical force, seem to shout and gesticulate as if in the very depths of the forest or on the wild and lonely sea shore. It requires, however, rigid and exacting application; and thus effects nearly all that may be needed. Practice of this kind cannot be heard even by those in an adjoining room, but great skill is necessary to prevent straining even by this method. The exercise must be gradually and not directly powerful, and yet be earnest enough in its character to produce the desired results. To equalize and divide the labor with the voice, it is advisable to pace the room in a seemingly furious manner, to gesticulate freely and lustily, with the eyes full of fire and expression; and all this, even though the whole frame be excited to a glow of enthusiasm and animation, can be done without the least disturbance to others in the immediate vicinity. If the room is well aired, and the person deeply inflates the lungs, and concentrates his mind on the purpose, it is impossible not to derive immense benefit. Personal experience with pupils, has demonstrated that a radically weak voice can be made strong by such a method. Breathing alone would do much toward the attainment of the end proposed, but a combination with the efforts of the body tends to facilitate the matter. This apparently extravagant exercise is merely for practice, and it renders all the speaking powers extremely strong and pliant. In private, the breath may be violently drawn in and as violently expelled, but in public, it must be imperceptibly supplied. The same with action; if either is obtruded it mars the expression. The public use of both should be mainly characterised by simplicity and strength. EXPRESSION. When the voice is prepared by elementary training, and is capable of fulfilling all demands, then public speaking should be earnest ; not merely with a louder noise and more vehement gesture, as in practice, but with reality and sensibility. It is difficult to acquire the habits which induce that native feeling, and freshness of expression. It must be living, soul-kindling. It can be professedly cultivated, and even mechanically, but with the sincerity and earnestness of a man bent on great effects; as of realities which he understands and feels in the very depths of his soul. This is the only means of producing what the age demandspowerful, earnest orators, and not graceful, delicate. declaimers. The simplest truths when communicated powerfully come to us warm and living from the speaker's soul. Sometimes a single sentence uttered in this manner goes deep into the hearer's heart and teaches more than could be gathered in hours from the written page. There is not an atom to spare in the works of nature, and its greatest structures are its simplest. Simplicity is the highest and the most enduring of all qualities. It is the mean of extremes and exactly answers to its end. The orator should have his language red-hot with passion, but everything like effort should disappear; and even the most exciting expressions should be given with a smooth, severe simplicity that is delicate as well as energetic. The two extremes of speaking, between which is found this exact simplicity, are rant and apathy. The object of Elocution is to explain those natural principles already created, which properly control expression; to develope and cultivate voice and feeling to the extent desired; and to refine, not pervert nature; and the greatest orators are those who have this art subservient to native powers. Even in the calmest and most subdued expression there should always be |