PART IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale yellow woods were waning,

The broad stream in his banks complaining,

Heavily the low sky raining

Over tower'd Camelot;

Down she came and found a boat

Beneath a willow left afloat,

And round about the prow she wrote

_The Lady of Shalott_.

And down the river's dim expanse

Like some bold seer in a trance,

Seeing all his own mischance--

With a glassy countenance

Did she look to Camelot.

And at the closing of the day

She loosed the chain and down she lay;

The broad stream bore her far away,

The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white

That loosely flew to left and right--

The leaves upon her falling light--

Thro' the noises of the night

She floated down to Camelot:

And as the boat-head wound along

The willowy hills and fields among,

They heard her singing her last song,

The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,

Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,

Till her blood was frozen slowly,

And her eyes were darken'd wholly,

Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.

For ere she reach'd upon the tide

The first house by the water-side,

Singing in her song she died,

The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,

By garden-wall and gallery,

A gleaming shape she floated by,

Dead-pale between the houses high,

Silent into Camelot.

Out upon the wharfs they came,

Knight and burgher, lord and dame,

And round the prow they read her name,

_The Lady of Shalott_.

Who is this? and what is here?

And in the lighted palace near

Died the sound of royal cheer;

And they cross'd themselves for fear,

All the knights at Camelot:

But Lancelot mused a little space;

He said, "She has a lovely face;

God in his mercy lend her grace,

The Lady of Shalott."

--_Alfred Tennyson_

PREPARATORY.--Compare the poet's treatment of the story

of _The Lady of Shalott_ with that given in _Lancelot

and Elaine_.

Combine the smaller pictures in this poem into a number

of larger ones.

Give to the larger pictures titles which suggest the

different stages in the development of the story.

Exercises in Articulation. (Appendix A. See Examples)

PART I

Stanza i, ll. 1 and 4. Where is the Pause in each line?

Why? (Introduction, p. 11.)

Stanza iii, ll. 1 and 2. Account for the change in Time.

(Introduction, p. 13.)

2. Where is the Pause?

6-9. What is the Inflection in these questions?

(Introduction, p. 19.)

Stanza iv, l. 3. HEAR. With what word should this be

connected? How? (Introduction, p. 16.) Note the Shading.

6. Where are the Pauses in this line? Account for them.

8-9. In what Quality of voice are these lines read?

(Introduction, p. 6.) Compare from this standpoint the

last lines of Parts II, III, and IV.

Part II

Stanza i, ll. 3-5. Note the spontaneous imitation.

(Introduction, pp. 5 and 6.)

AND THERE THE SURLY ... TWO AND TWO. Note the three

separate groups of passers-by. Which group has the most

significance in its bearing on the rest of the poem? How

does the voice indicate this relative significance?

(Introduction, pp. 24 and 30.)

Stanza iii, l. 8. How is the transition made effective?

(Introduction, pp. 8, 9, and 25.)

Stanza iv. FOR OFTEN ... CAMELOT. Observe the Shading.

(Introduction, p. 33.)

PART III

HIS SHIELD, RODE DOWN, ARMOUR RUNG, SADDLE-LEATHER,

COAL-BLACK CURLS. (Appendix A, 6.)

Stanza i, l. 4. Observe the Grouping.

Stanza ii, l. 2. Where is the Pause? Explain. What is

the Inflection on STARS?

Compare the Shading in ll. 6 and 7.

Stanza iii. What are the central ideas of ll. 2 and 3?

How does the reader make them stand out?

6-8. Note the continuous Inflection. (Introduction, p.

17.)

Stanza iv, ll. 3 and 4. How does the Grouping here

affect the Pause and the Inflection?

Stanza v, ll. 1-4. What change in the voice indicates

the abrupt transition? What atmosphere does the voice

create as a preparation for the climax of the last four

lines?

1. What is the central idea of this line?

6-7. What change in Force, Pitch, and Stress expresses

the sudden disaster?

PART IV

Compare the atmosphere of the first four and a half

stanzas of this Part with the first four of Part III,

and also with the remainder of Part IV. What is the

difference in Pitch, Force, and Time? (Introduction, pp.

22, 26, and 13.)

* * * * *

HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR DEAD

From "The Princess"

Home they brought her warrior dead:

She nor swoon'd, nor utter'd cry:

All her maidens, watching, said,

"She must weep or she will die."

Then they praised him, soft and low,

Call'd him worthy to be loved,

Truest friend and noblest foe;

Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,

Lightly to the warrior stept,

Took the face-cloth from the face;

Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,

Set his child upon her knee--

Like summer tempest came her tears--

"Sweet my child, I live for thee."

--_Alfred Tennyson_

See Introduction, p. 6.

* * * * *

THE SKY

From "Modern Painters"

1. It is a strange thing how little in general people know about the

sky. It is the part of creation in which nature has done more for the

sake of pleasing man, more for the sole and evident purpose of talking

to him and teaching him, than in any other of her works, and it is

just the part in which we least attend to her.

2. There are not many of her other works in which some more material

or essential purpose than the mere pleasing of man is not answered by

every part of their organization; but every essential purpose of the

sky might, so far as we know, be answered, if once in three days, or

thereabouts, a great ugly black rain-cloud were brought up over the

blue, and everything well watered, and so all left blue again till

next time, with perhaps a film of morning and evening mist for dew.

3. And instead of this, there is not a moment of any day of our lives,

when nature is not producing scene after scene, picture after picture,

glory after glory, and working still upon such exquisite and constant

principles of the most perfect beauty, that it is quite certain it is

all done for us, and intended for our perpetual pleasure. And every

man, wherever placed, however far from other sources of interest or of

beauty, has this doing for him constantly.

4. The noblest scenes of the earth can be seen and known but by few;

it is not intended that man should live always in the midst of them,

he injures them by his presence, he ceases to feel them if he be

always with them; but the sky is for all; bright as it is, it is not

"too bright, nor good, for human nature's daily food"; it is fitted in

all its functions for the perpetual comfort and exalting of the heart,

for the soothing it and purifying it from its dross and dust.

Sometimes gentle, sometimes capricious, sometimes awful, never the

same for two moments together; almost human in its passions, almost

spiritual in its tenderness, almost divine in its infinity, its appeal

to what is immortal in us, is as distinct, as its ministry of

chastisement or of blessing to what is mortal, is essential.

5. And yet we never attend to it, we never make it a subject of

thought, but as it has to do with our animal sensations; we look upon

all by which it speaks to us more clearly than to brutes, upon all

which bears witness to the intention of the Supreme, that we are to

receive more from the covering vault than the light and the dew which

we share with the weed and the worm, only as a succession of

meaningless and monotonous accidents too common and too vain to be

worthy of a moment of watchfulness, or a glance of admiration. If in

our moments of utter idleness and insipidity, we turn to the sky as a

last resource, which of its phenomena do we speak of?

6. One says it has been wet, and another it has been windy, and

another it has been warm. Who, among the whole chattering crowd, can

tell me of the forms and the precipices of the chain of tall white

mountains that girded the horizon at noon yesterday? Who saw the

narrow sunbeam that came out of the south, and smote upon their

summits until they melted and mouldered away in a dust of blue rain?

Who saw the dance of the dead clouds when the sunlight left them last

night, and the west wind blew them before it like withered leaves?

7. All has passed, unregretted as unseen; or if the apathy be ever

shaken off, even for an instant, it is only by what is gross, or what

is extraordinary; and yet it is not in the broad and fierce

manifestations of the elemental energies, not in the clash of the

hail, nor the drift of the whirlwind, that the highest characters of

the sublime are developed. God is not in the earthquake, nor in the

fire, but in the still, small voice.

8. They are but the blunt and the low faculties of our nature, which

can only be addressed through lamp-black and lightning. It is in

quiet and subdued passages of unobtrusive majesty, the deep, and the

calm, and the perpetual,--that which must be sought ere it is seen,

and loved ere it is understood,--things which the angels work out for

us daily, and yet vary eternally, which are never wanting, and never

repeated, which are to be found always yet each found but once; it is

through these that the lesson of devotion is chiefly taught, and the

blessing of beauty given.

--_John Ruskin_

(_By arrangement with George Allen, Publisher_)

SPIRITUAL, PRECIPICES, SUMMITS, UNOBTRUSIVE. (Appendix

A, 8.)

Par. 1. With what is LEAST ATTEND contrasted?

Par. 2. Why is SKY an emphatic word? Give examples of

momentary completeness. (Introduction, p. 16.)

Par. 3. What Inflection is placed on PERFECT BEAUTY?

Par. 4. Point out the contrasts in the first sentence.

What word is contrasted with DISTINCT?

Par. 5. With what is ONLY AS A SUCCESSION, ETC.,

connected in sense? How does the voice make the

connection? (Introduction, p. 33.)

Par. 7. UNREGRETTED, UNSEEN. Note the transferred

emphasis. (Introduction, p. 32.)

Par. 7. AND YET IT IS NOT ... NOR IN THE FIRE. Account

for the Inflection. (Introduction, p. 17.)

* * * * *

THE RETURN OF THE SWALLOWS

"Out in the meadows the young grass springs,

Shivering with sap," said the larks, "and we

Shoot into air with our strong young wings,

Spirally up over level and lea;

Come, O Swallows, and fly with us

Now that horizons are luminous!

Evening and morning the world of light,

Spreading and kindling, is infinite!"

Far away, by the sea in the south,

The hills of olive and slopes of fern

Whiten and glow in the sun's long drouth,

Under the heavens that beam and burn;

And all the swallows were gather'd there

Flitting about in the fragrant air,

And heard no sound from the larks, but flew

Flashing under the blinding blue.

Out of the depths of their soft rich throats

Languidly fluted the thrushes, and said:

"Musical thought in the mild air floats,

Spring is coming and winter is dead!

Come, O Swallows, and stir the air,

For the buds are all bursting unaware,

And the drooping eaves and the elm-trees long

To hear the sound of your low sweet song."

Over the roofs of the white Algiers,

Flashingly shadowing the bright bazaar,

Flitted the swallows, and not one hears

The call of the thrushes from far, from far;

Sigh'd the thrushes; then, all at once,

Broke out singing the old sweet tones,

Singing the bridal of sap and shoot,

The tree's slow life between root and fruit.

But just when the dingles of April flowers

Shine with the earliest daffodils,

When, before sunrise, the cold clear hours

Gleam with a promise that noon fulfils,--

Deep in the leafage the cuckoo cried,

Perch'd on a spray by a rivulet-side,

"Swallows, O Swallows, come back again

To swoop and herald the April rain."

And something awoke in the slumbering heart

Of the alien birds in their African air,

And they paused, and alighted, and twitter'd apart,

And met in the broad white dreamy square;

And the sad slave-woman, who lifted up

From the fountain her broad-lipp'd earthen cup,

Said to herself, with a weary sigh,

"To-morrow the swallows will northward fly!"

--_Edmund William Gosse_

How does the vocal expression of the descriptive parts

of the poem differ from that of the call of the birds?

Account for the difference. (Introduction, p. 22.)

Point out the contrasts of thought and feeling in the

third and fourth stanzas respectively. Show a

corresponding contrast in vocal expression.

What line expresses the central idea of the fifth

stanza? How is this shown? (Introduction, p. 33.)

Account for the Pitch and the Force used in the

slave-woman's speech.

Supply a background of thought for the last four lines.

How does this affect the Time? (Introduction, p. 14.)

* * * * *

BARBARA FRIETCHIE

Up from the meadows rich with corn,

Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand

Green walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep, 5

Apple-and peach-tree fruited deep,--

Fair as a garden of the Lord

To the eye of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of the early fall

When Lee march'd over the mountain-wall,-- 10

Over the mountains winding down,

Horse and foot, into Frederick town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,

Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the morning wind: the sun 15

Of noon looked down, and saw not one.

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,

Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,

She took up the flag the men hauled down; 20

In her attic window the staff she set,

To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,

Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right 25

He glanced; the old flag met his sight.

"Halt!"--the dust-brown ranks stood fast.

"Fire!"--out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane and sash;

It rent the banner with seam and gash. 30

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff

Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;

She leaned far out on the window-sill,

And shook it forth with a royal will.

"Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, 35

But spare your country's flag!" she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,

Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred

To life at that woman's deed and word: 40

"Who touches a hair of yon gray head,

Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.

All day long through Frederick street

Sounded the tread of marching feet:

All day long that free flag tossed 45

Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell

On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And, through the hill-gaps, sunset light

Shone over it with a warm good-night. 50

Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,

And the Rebel rides on his raids no more.

Honour to her! and let a tear

Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.

Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, 55

Flag of Freedom and Union wave!

Peace and order and beauty draw

Round thy symbol of light and law;

And ever the stars above look down

On thy stars below in Frederick town! 60

--_John Greenleaf Whittier_

PREPARATORY.--Divide the poem into sections, giving each

a descriptive title. (Introduction, p. 10.)

Describe the scene portrayed in the first fifteen lines,

supplementing your description by a black-board diagram.

ll. 1-2. What is the Inflection? Why?

l. 3. Note the Grouping and Pause.

l. 3. STAND; l. 7, LORD; l. 8, HORDE. What is the

Inflection? Why?

l. 15. (Introduction, p. 9.)

l. 20. What are the emphatic words? Are both words of a

contrast necessarily emphatic?

ll. 17-22. Note the change in nervous tension. What

effect has this on the key of the voice? (Introduction,

p. 25.)

ll. 25-26. How do these lines illustrate the truth that

the Visualization of a scene is a necessary forerunner

of correct vocal expression?

ll. 27-28. HALT! FIRE! What change in vocal expression

accompanies the transition to abrupt command?

l. 31. With what do you connect FROM THE BROKEN STAFF?

How? (Introduction, p. 16.)

ll. 31-36. What part should Imitation play here?

(Introduction, pp. 5 and 6.)

ll. 37-38. (Introduction, p. 14.)

l. 39. Note Grouping and Pause.

ll. 41-42. (Introduction, p. 5.)

l. 43. With what do you connect THROUGH FREDERICK

STREET? How? Where do you pause in this line?

l. 51. (Introduction, p. 9.)

* * * * *

BLESS THE LORD, O MY SOUL

Psalm ciii

Bless the Lord, O my soul:

And all that is within me, bless his holy name

Bless the Lord, O my soul,

And forget not all his benefits:

Who forgiveth all thine iniquities;

Who healeth all thy diseases;

Who redeemeth thy life from destruction;

Who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies:

Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things;

So that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's.

The Lord executeth righteousness

And judgment for all that are oppressed.

He made known his ways unto Moses,

His acts unto the children of Israel.

The Lord is merciful and gracious,

Slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.

He will not always chide:

Neither will he keep his anger for ever.

He hath not dealt with us after our sins;

Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.

For as the heaven is high above the earth,

So great is his mercy toward them that fear him.

As far as the east is from the west,

So far hath he removed our transgressions from us

Like as a father pitieth his children,

So the Lord pitieth them that fear him.

For he knoweth our frame;

He remembereth that we are dust.

As for man, his days are as grass:

As a flower of the field, so he flourisheth.

For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone;

And the place thereof shall know it no more.

But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting

upon them that fear him,

And his righteousness unto children's children;

To such as keep his covenant,

And to those that remember his commandments to do them.

The Lord hath prepared his throne in the heavens;

And his kingdom ruleth over all.

Bless the Lord, ye his angels,

That excel in strength,

That do his commandments,

Hearkening unto the voice of his word.

Bless ye the Lord, all ye his hosts;

Ye ministers of his, that do his pleasure.

Bless the Lord, all his works,

In all places of his dominion:

Bless the Lord, O my soul.

--_As arranged by Richard G. Moulton_

PREPARATORY.--What attitude of mind does the language of

this Psalm indicate? What Stress of voice is its natural

expression? (Introduction, p. 29.)

Articulation. (Appendix A, 3.)

* * * * *

THE ETERNAL GOODNESS

I know not what the future hath

Of marvel or surprise,

Assured alone that life and death

His mercy underlies.

And if my heart and flesh are weak 5

To bear an untried pain,

The bruised reed He will not break,

But strengthen and sustain.

No offering of my own I have,

Nor works my faith to prove; 10

I can but give the gifts He gave,

And plead His love for love.

And so beside the Silent Sea

I wait the muffled oar;

No harm from Him can come to me 15

On ocean or on shore.

I know not where His islands lift

Their fronded palms in air;

I only know I cannot drift

Beyond His love and care. 20

--_John Greenleaf Whittier_

PREPARATORY.--What attitude of mind is suggested by this

poem?

How does it differ from that suggested by the preceding

selection? What is the difference in vocal expression?

Account for the Inflection placed on the negative

statements in this poem. (Introduction, pp. 17 and 18.)

* * * * *

THE KING OF GLORY

Psalm xxiv

(Anthems for the Inauguration of Jerusalem)

_I.--At the Foot of the Hill_

FIRST CHOIR

The earth is the LORD'S, and the fulness thereof;

The world, and they that dwell therein.

For He hath founded it upon the seas,

And established it upon the floods.

Who shall ascend into the hill of the LORD?

And who shall stand in His holy place?

SECOND CHOIR

He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart;

Who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity,

And hath not sworn deceitfully.

He shall receive a blessing from the LORD,

And righteousness from the God of his salvation.

This is the generation of them that seek after Him,

That seek Thy face, O God of Jacob.

_II.--Before the Gates_

FIRST CHOIR

Lift up your heads, O ye gates;

And be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors:

And the King of Glory shall come in.

SECOND CHOIR

Who is the King of Glory?

FIRST CHOIR

The LORD strong and mighty,

The LORD mighty in battle.

FIRST CHOIR

Lift up your heads, O ye gates;

Yea, lift them up, ye everlasting doors:

And the King of Glory shall come in.

SECOND CHOIR

Who is this King of Glory?

FIRST CHOIR

The LORD of Hosts,

He is the King of Glory.

--_As arranged by Richard G. Moulton_

* * * * *

THE FOUR-HORSE RACE

From "Black Rock"

1. The great event of the day, however, was to be the four-horse race,

for which three teams were entered--one from the mines driven by

Nixon, Craig's friend, a citizens' team, and Sandy's. The race was

really between the miners' team and that from the woods, for the

citizens' team, though made up of speedy horses, had not been driven

much together, and knew neither their driver nor each other. In the

miners' team were four bays, very powerful, a trifle heavy perhaps,

but well matched, perfectly trained, and perfectly handled by their

driver. Sandy had his long rangy roans, and for leaders, a pair of

half-broken pinto bronchos. The pintos, caught the summer before upon

the Alberta prairies, were fleet as deer, but wicked and uncertain.

They were Baptiste's special care and pride. If they would only run

straight, there was little doubt that they would carry the roans and

themselves to glory; but one could not tell the moment they might

bolt or kick things to pieces.

2. Being the only non-partisan in the crowd, I was asked to referee.

The race was about half a mile and return, the first and last quarters

being upon the ice. The course, after leaving the ice, led up from the

river by a long, easy slope to the level above; and at the further

end, curved somewhat sharply around the Old Fort. The only condition

attaching to the race was, that the teams should start from the

scratch, make the turn of the Fort, and finish at the scratch. There

were no vexing regulations as to fouls. The man making the foul would

find it necessary to reckon with the crowd, which was considered

sufficient guarantee for a fair and square race. Owing to the hazards

of the course, the result would depend upon the skill of the drivers

quite as much as the speed of the teams. The points of hazard were at

the turn round the Old Fort, and at a little ravine which led down to

the river, over which the road passed by means of a long, log bridge

or causeway.

3. From a point upon the high bank of the river, the whole course lay

in open view. It was a scene full of life and vividly picturesque.

There were miners in dark clothes and peak caps; citizens in ordinary

garb; ranch-men in wide cowboy hats and buckskin shirts and leggings,

some with cartridge-belts and pistols; a few half-breeds and Indians

in half-native, half-civilized dress; and scattering through the

crowd, the lumbermen with gay scarlet and blue blanket coats, and some

with knitted tuques of the same colour. A very good-natured but

extremely uncertain crowd it was. At the head of each horse stood a

man, but at the pintos' heads Baptiste stood alone, trying to hold

down the off-leader, thrown into a frenzy of fear by the yelling of

the crowd.

4. Gradually all became quiet, till, in the midst of absolute

stillness, came the words: "Are you ready?" then the pistol-shot, and

the great race had begun. Above the roar of the crowd came the shrill

cry of Baptiste, as he struck his broncho with the palm of his hand,

and swung himself into the sleigh beside Sandy, as it shot past.

5. Like a flash the bronchos sprang to the front, two lengths before

the other teams; but, terrified by the yelling of the crowd, instead

of bending to the left bank up which the road wound, they wheeled to

the right and were almost across the river before Sandy could swing

them back into the course.

6. Baptiste's cries, a curious mixture of French and English,

continued to strike through all other sounds, till they gained the top

of the slope to find the others almost a hundred yards in front, the

citizens' team leading, with the miners' following close. The moment

the pintos caught sight of the teams before them, they set off at a

terrific pace and steadily devoured the intervening space. Nearer and

nearer the turn came, the eight horses in front, running straight and

well within their speed. After them flew the pintos, running savagely

with ears set back, leading well the big roans, thundering along and

gaining at every bound. And now the citizens' team had almost reached

the Fort, running hard and drawing away from the bays. But Nixon knew

what he was about, and was simply steadying his team for the turn. The

event proved his wisdom, for in the turn the leading team left the

track, lost a moment or two in the deep snow, and before they could

regain the road, the bays had swept superbly past, leaving their

rivals to follow in the rear. On came the pintos, swiftly nearing the

Fort. Surely at that pace they cannot make the turn. But Sandy knows

his leaders. They have their eyes upon the teams in front, and need no

touch of rein. Without the slightest change in speed the nimble-footed

bronchos round the turn, hauling the big roans after them, and fall in

behind the citizens' team, which is regaining steadily the ground lost

in the turn.

7. And now the struggle is for the bridge over the ravine. The bays in

front, running with mouths wide open, are evidently doing their best;

behind them, and every moment nearing them, but at the limit of their

speed too, come the lighter and fleeter citizens' team; while opposite

their driver are the pintos, pulling hard, eager and fresh. Their

temper is too uncertain to send them to the front; they run well

following, but when leading cannot be trusted, and besides, a broncho

hates a bridge; so Sandy holds them where they are, waiting and hoping

for his chance after the bridge is crossed. Foot by foot the citizens'

team creep up upon the flank of the bays, with the pintos in turn

hugging them closely, till it seems as if the three, if none slackens,

must strike the bridge together; and this will mean destruction to one

at least. This danger Sandy perceives, but he dare not check his

leaders. Suddenly, within a few yards of the bridge, Baptiste throws

himself upon the lines, wrenches them out of Sandy's hands, and, with

a quick swing, forces the pintos down the steep side of the ravine,

which is almost sheer ice with a thin coat of snow. It is a daring

course to take, for the ravine, though not deep, is full of

undergrowth, and is partially closed up by a brush heap at the further

end. But with a yell, Baptiste hurls his four horses down the slope,

and into the undergrowth. "Allons, mes enfants! Courage! vite, vite!"

cries their driver, and nobly do the pintos respond. Regardless of

bushes and brush heaps, they tear their way through; but as they

emerge, the hind bob-sleigh catches a root, and, with a crash, the

sleigh is hurled high into the air. Baptiste's cries ring out high and

shrill as ever, encouraging his team, and never cease till, with a

plunge and a scramble, they clear the brush heap lying at the mouth of

the ravine, and are out on the ice on the river, with Baptiste

standing on the front bob, the box trailing behind, and Sandy nowhere

to be seen.

8. Three hundred yards of the course remain. The bays, perfectly

handled, have gained at the bridge, and in the descent to the ice, and

are leading the citizens' team by half a dozen sleigh lengths. Behind

both comes Baptiste. It is now or never for the pintos. The rattle of

the trailing box, together with the wild yelling of the crowd rushing

down the bank, excites the bronchos to madness, and, taking the bits

in their teeth, they do their first free running that day. Past the

citizens' team like a whirlwind they dash, clear the intervening

space, and gain the flanks of the bays. Can the bays hold them? Over

them leans their driver, plying for the first time the hissing lash.

Only fifty yards more. The miners begin to yell. But Baptiste, waving

his lines high in one hand, seizes his tuque with the other, whirls it

above his head and flings it with a fiercer yell than ever at the

bronchos. Like the bursting of a hurricane the pintos leap forward,

and with a splendid rush cross the scratch, winners by their own

length.

--_By arrangement with the Westminster Co., Limited,

and Rev. C. W. Gordon (Ralph Connor)_

PREPARATORY.--Make a black-board sketch of the

race-course, fixing the position of "the scratch," "the

Old Fort," "the high bank with the spectators," "the

bridge," etc.

In what passages does the excitement reach its greatest

height? How are the Pitch and Time affected?

(Introduction, pp. 13 and 22.)

What is the Stress employed throughout? Where is the

Stress most marked? Give reasons. (Introduction, pp. 27

and 28.)

* * * * *

MRS. MALAPROP'S VIEWS

From "The Rivals"

The scene is Mrs. Malaprop's lodgings at Bath. Present, Lydia Languish.

Enter Mrs. Malaprop and Sir Anthony Absolute.

_Mrs. Malaprop._--There, Sir Anthony, there sits the deliberate

simpleton who wants to disgrace her family, and lavish herself on a

fellow not worth a shilling.

_Lydia._--Madam, I thought you once--

_Mrs. Malaprop._--You thought, miss! I don't know any business you

have to think at all: thought does not become a young woman. But the

point we would request of you is, that you will promise to forget this

fellow; to illiterate him, I say, quite from your memory.

_Lydia._--Ah, madam! our memories are independent of our wills. It is

not so easy to forget.

_Mrs. Malaprop._--But I say it is, miss! there is nothing on earth so

easy as to forget, if a person chooses to set about it. I'm sure I

have as much forgot your poor dear uncle as if he had never

existed--and I thought it my duty so to do; and let me tell you,

Lydia, these violent memories don't become a young woman.

_Sir Anthony._--Why, sure she won't pretend to remember what she's

ordered not! Ay, this comes of her reading!

_Lydia._--What crime, madam, have I committed to be treated thus?

_Mrs. Malaprop._--Now don't attempt to extirpate yourself from the

matter; you know I have proof controvertible of it. But tell me, will

you promise to do as you're bid? Will you take a husband of your

friends' choosing?

_Lydia._--Madam, I must tell you plainly that had I no preference for

any one else, the choice you have made would be my aversion.

_Mrs. Malaprop._--What business have you, miss, with preference and

aversion. They don't become a young woman; and you ought to know that

as both always wear off, 'tis safest in matrimony to begin with a

little aversion. I am sure I hated your poor dear uncle before

marriage as if he'd been a blackamoor; and yet, miss, you are sensible

what a wife I made? and when it pleased Heaven to release me from him,

'tis unknown what tears I shed! But suppose we were going to give you

another choice, will you promise us to give up this Beverley?

_Lydia._--Could I belie my thoughts so far as to give that promise, my

actions would certainly as far belie my words.

_Mrs. Malaprop._--Take yourself to your room. You are fit company for

nothing but your own ill-humours.

_Lydia._--Willingly, ma'am--I cannot change for the worse.

(_Exit_)

_Mrs. Malaprop._--There's a little intricate hussy for you!

_Sir Anthony._--It is not to be wondered at, ma'am: all this is the

natural consequence of teaching girls to read. Had I a thousand

daughters, by heaven I'd as soon have them taught the black art as

their alphabet!

_Mrs. Malaprop._--Nay, nay, Sir Anthony: you are an absolute

misanthropy.

_Sir Anthony._--In my way hither, Mrs. Malaprop, I observed your

niece's maid coming forth from a circulating library! She had a book

in each hand; they were half-bound volumes with marble covers! From

that moment I guessed how full of duty I should see her mistress!

_Mrs. Malaprop._--Those are vile places indeed!

_Sir Anthony._--Madam, a circulating library in a town is an evergreen

tree of diabolical knowledge,--it blossoms through the year! And

depend on it, Mrs. Malaprop, that they who are so fond of handling the

leaves will long for the fruit at last.

_Mrs. Malaprop._--Fy, fy, Sir Anthony! you surely speak laconically.

_Sir Anthony._--Why, Mrs. Malaprop, in moderation now, what would you

have a woman know?

_Mrs. Malaprop._--Observe me, Sir Anthony. I would by no means wish a

daughter of mine to be a progeny of learning; I don't think so much

learning becomes a young woman: for instance, I would never let her

meddle with Greek, or Hebrew, or algebra, or simony, or fluxions, or

paradoxes, or such inflammatory branches of learning; neither would it

be necessary for her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical,

diabolical instruments. But, Sir Anthony, I would send her at nine

years old to a boarding-school, in order to learn a little ingenuity

and artifice. Then, sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in

accounts; and as she grew up I would have her instructed in geometry,

that she might know something of the contagious countries: but above

all, Sir Anthony, she should be mistress of orthodoxy, that she might

not misspell and mispronounce words so shamefully as girls usually do;

and likewise that she might reprehend the true meaning of what she is

saying. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know; and I

don't think there is a superstitious article in it.

_Sir Anthony._--Well, well, Mrs. Malaprop, I will dispute the point no

further with you; though I must confess that you are a truly moderate

and polite arguer, for almost every third word you say is on my side

of the question. But, Mrs. Malaprop, to the more important point in

debate: you say you have no objection to my proposal?

_Mrs. Malaprop._--None, I assure you. I am under no positive

engagement with Mr. Acres; and as Lydia is so obstinate against him,

perhaps your son may have better success.

_Sir Anthony._--Well, madam, I will write for the boy directly. He

knows not a syllable of this yet, though I have for some time had the

proposal in my head. He is at present with his regiment.

_Mrs. Malaprop._--We have never seen your son, Sir Anthony; but I hope

no objection on his side.

_Sir Anthony._--Objection! let him object if he dare! No, no, Mrs.

Malaprop, Jack knows that the least demur puts me in a frenzy

directly. My process was always very simple: in their younger days,

'twas "Jack, do this"; if he demurred I knocked him down, and if he

grumbled at that I always sent him out of the room.

_Mrs. Malaprop._--Ay, and the properest way, o'my conscience! Nothing

is so conciliating to young people as severity. Well, Sir Anthony, I

shall give Mr. Acres his discharge, and prepare Lydia to receive your

son's invocations; and I hope you will represent her to the captain as

an object not altogether illegible.

_Sir Anthony._--Madam, I will handle the subject prudently. Well I

must leave you; and let me beg you, Mrs. Malaprop, to enforce this

matter roundly to the girl. Take my advice--keep a tight hand: if she

rejects this proposal, clap her under lock and key; and if you were

just to let the servants forget to bring her dinner for three or four

days, you can't conceive how she'd come about. (Exit)

_Mrs. Malaprop._--Well, at any rate I shall be glad to get her from

under my intuition. She has somehow discovered my partiality for Sir

Lucius O'Trigger: sure Lucy can't have betrayed me! No, the girl is

such a simpleton, I should have made her confess it. (Calls) Lucy!

Lucy!--Had she been one of your artificial ones, I should never have

trusted her.

--_Richard Brinsley Sheridan_

What is the difference between Mrs. Malaprop's mental

attitude toward Lydia and toward Sir Anthony? How is

this difference indicated in the Stress of voice?

(Introduction, pp. 27 and 28.)

* * * * *

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS

King Francis was a hearty king, and lov'd a royal sport,

And one day, as his lions strove, sat looking on the court;

The nobles fill'd the benches round, the ladies by their side,

And 'mongst them Count de Lorge, with one he hoped to make

his bride;

And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show, 5

Valour and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

Ramp'd and roar'd the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;

They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with

their paws;

With wallowing might and stifled roar, they roll'd one on another,

Till all the pit, with sand and mane, was in a thund'rous smother; 10

The bloody foam above the bars came whizzing through the air;

Said Francis then, "Good gentlemen, we're better here than there!"

De Lorge's love o'erheard the King, a beauteous, lively dame,

With smiling lips, and sharp bright eyes, which always seem'd

the same:

She thought, "The Count, my lover, is as brave as brave can be; 15

He surely would do desperate things to show his love of me!

King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the chance is wond'rous fine;

I'll drop my glove to prove his love; great glory will be mine!"

She dropp'd her glove to prove his love: then looked on him

and smiled;

He bow'd, and in a moment leap'd among the lions wild: 20

The leap was quick; return was quick; he soon regain'd his place;

Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face!

"In truth!" cried Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where

he sat:

"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that!"

--_Leigh Hunt_

PREPARATORY.--Divide the poem into four scenes, and

describe each scene.

What are the difficulties of Articulation in ll. 2, 9,

10, and 14.

What attitude of mind is indicated by the King's first

speech? By his second speech? What difference in Stress?

(Introduction, pp. 27-29.) What is the Force in each

case? (Introduction, p. 25.)

15, 16, and 17. Use these lines as an illustration to

show that Visualization is necessary in order to secure

good vocal expression.

In what Time do you read the lady's thoughts!

(Introduction, p. 13.)

Give examples from stanzas ii, and iv, where the

sympathy with the picture may be sufficiently strong to

lead to imitation of movements or sounds. (Introduction,

pp. 5 and 6.)

* * * * *

THE FICKLENESS OF A ROMAN MOB

From "Julius Caesar" Act I. Scene i.

_Enter_ FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, _and certain Commoners over the Stage._

_Flav._ Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home.

Is this a holiday? What! know you not,

Being mechanical, you ought not walk

Upon a labouring day without the sign

Of your profession?--Speak, what trade art thou? 5

_1 Cit._ Why, sir, a carpenter.

_Mar._ Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule?

What dost thou with thy best apparel on?--

You, sir, what trade are you?

_2 Cit._ Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am 10

but, as you would say, a cobbler.

_Mar._ But what trade are thou? Answer me directly.

_2 Cit._ A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with a safe

conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles.

_Mar._ What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, 15

what trade?

_2 Cit._ Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me;

yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you.

_Mar._ What mean'st thou by that? Mend me, thou saucy fellow?

_2 Cit._ Why, sir, cobble you. 20

_Flav._ Thou art a cobbler, art thou?

_2 Cit._ Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl.

I meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's

matters, but with all. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to

old shoes; when they are in great danger, I re-cover 25

them. As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather

have gone upon my handiwork.

_Flav._ But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day?

Why dost thou lead these men about the streets?

_2 Cit._ Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get 30

myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make

holiday to see Caesar, and to rejoice in his triumph.

_Mar._ Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home?

What tributaries follow him to Rome,

To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? 35

You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things!

O, 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, 40

Your infants in your arms, and there have sat

The livelong day, with patient expectation,

To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome;

And when you saw his chariot but appear,

Have you not made an universal shout, 45

That Tiber trembled underneath her banks,

To hear the replication of your sounds

Made in her concave shores?

And do you now put on your best attire?

And do you now cull out a holiday? 50

And do you now strew flowers in his way

That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood?

Be gone!

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,

Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 55

That needs must light on this ingratitude.

_Flav._ Go, go, good countrymen, and for this fault

Assemble all the poor men of your sort;

Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears

Into the channel, till the lowest stream 60

Do kiss the most exalted shores of all.

[_Exeunt all the Commoners_]

See, whe'r their basest metal be not moved!

They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness.

Go you down that way towards the Capitol;

This way will I. Disrobe the images, 65

If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies.

_Mar._ May we do so?

You know it is the feast of Lupercal.

_Flav._ It is no matter; let no images

Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about, 70

And drive away the vulgar from the streets;

So do you too, where you perceive them thick.

These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing

Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,

Who else would soar above the view of men, 75

And keep us all in servile fearfulness.

[_Exeunt]_

--_Shakespeare_

In what Stress do Flavius and Marullus speak when

questioning the citizens? Why?

What Stress does the first citizen use?

How does the mental attitude of the second citizen

influence his Stress and Inflection? (Introduction, pp.

21, 22, and 30.) Where does he change his Stress? For

what reason?

WHEREFORE REJOICE? Point out the various examples of

Climax in this speech, and show how the voice indicates

them. (Introduction, p. 31.)

Account for the Inflection on the various questions.

(Introduction, pp. 18 and 19.)

SEE WHE'R THEIR BASEST METAL, ETC. Note the change in

tension and energy. What change in Pitch and Force is

the natural result? (Introduction, pp. 25 and 26.)

* * * * *

SIR PETER AND LADY TEAZLE

From "The School for Scandal"

_Sir Peter._--Lady Teazle, Lady Teazle, I'll not bear it!

_Lady Teazle._--Sir Peter, Sir Peter, you may bear it or not, as you

please; but I ought to have my own way in everything, and, what's

more, I will, too. What though I was educated in the country, I know

very well that women of fashion in London are accountable to nobody

after they are married.

_Sir Peter._--Very well, ma'am, very well; so a husband is to have no

influence, no authority?

_Lady Teazle._--Authority! No, to be sure: if you wanted authority

over me, you should have adopted me and not married me: I am sure you

were old enough.

_Sir Peter._--Old enough!--ay, there it is. Well, well, Lady Teazle,

though my life may be made unhappy by your temper, I'll not be ruined

by your extravagance!

_Lady Teazle._--My extravagance! I'm sure I'm not more extravagant

than a woman of fashion ought to be.

_Sir Peter._--No, no, madam, you shall throw away no more sums on such

unmeaning luxury. To spend as much to furnish your dressing room with

flowers in winter as would suffice to turn the Pantheon into a

greenhouse, and give a fete champetre at Christmas!

_Lady Teazle._--And am I to blame, Sir Peter, because flowers are dear

in cold weather? You should find fault with the climate, and not with

me. For my part, I'm sure I wish it was spring all the year round,

and that roses grew under our feet!

_Sir Peter._--Oons! madam--if you had been born to this, I shouldn't

wonder at your talking thus; but you forget what your situation was

when I married you.

_Lady Teazle._--No, no, I don't; 'twas a very disagreeable one, or I

should never have married you.

_Sir Peter._--Yes, yes, madam, you were then in somewhat a humbler

style--the daughter of a plain country squire. Recollect, Lady Teazle,

when I saw you first sitting at your tambour, in a pretty figured

linen gown, with a bunch of keys at your side, your hair combed smooth

over a roll, and your apartment hung round with fruits in worsted, of

your own working.

_Lady Teazle._--Oh, yes! I remember it very well, and a curious life I

led. My daily occupation to inspect the dairy, superintend the

poultry, make extracts from the family receipt book, and comb my aunt

Deborah's lap-dog.

_Sir Peter._--Yes, yes, ma'am, 'twas so indeed.

_Lady Teazle._--And then, you know, my evening amusements! To draw

patterns for ruffles, which I had not materials to make up; to play

Pope Joan with the curate; to read a sermon to my aunt; or to be stuck

down to an old spinet to strum my father to sleep after a fox chase.

_Sir Peter._--I am glad you have so good a memory. Yes, madam, these

were the recreations I took you from; but now you must have your

coach--_vis-a-vis_--and three powdered footmen before your chair; and,

in the summer, a pair of white cats to draw you to Kensington Gardens.

No recollection, I suppose, when you were content to ride double,

behind the butler, on a docked coach horse.

_Lady Teazle._--No--I swear I never did that: I deny the butler and

the coach horse.

_Sir Peter._--This, madam, was your situation; and what have I done

for you? I have made you a woman of fashion, of fortune, of rank,--in

short, I have made you my wife.

_Lady Teazle._--Well, then, and there is but one thing more you can

make me to add to the obligation, that is--

_Sir Peter._--My widow, I suppose?

_Lady Teazle._--Hem! hem!

_Sir Peter._--I thank you, madam--but don't flatter yourself, for,

though your ill conduct may disturb my peace of mind, it shall never

break my heart, I promise you: however, I am equally obliged to you

for the hint.

_Lady Teazle._--Then why will you endeavour to make yourself so

disagreeable to me, and thwart me in every little elegant expense.

_Sir Peter._--Oons! madam, I say, had you any of these little elegant

expenses when you married me?

_Lady Teazle._--Lud, Sir Peter! would you have me be out of the

fashion?

_Sir Peter._--The fashion, indeed! what had you to do with the fashion

before you married me?

_Lady Teazle._--For my part, I should think you would like to have

your wife thought a woman of taste.

_Sir Peter._--Ay--there again--taste! Zounds! madam, you had no taste

when you married me!

_Lady Teazle._--That's very true, indeed, Sir Peter! and, after

having married you, I should never pretend to taste again, I allow.

But now, Sir Peter, since we have finished our daily jangle, I presume

I may go to my engagement at Lady Sneerwell's.

_Sir Peter._--Ay, there's another precious circumstance--a charming

set of acquaintance you have made there.

_Lady Teazle._--Nay, Sir Peter, they are all people of rank and

fortune, and remarkably tenacious of reputation.

_Sir Peter._--Yes, they are tenacious of reputation with a vengeance;

for they don't choose anybody should have a character but themselves!

Such a crew! Ah! many a wretch has rid on a hurdle who has done less

mischief than these utterers of forged tales, coiners of scandal, and

clippers of reputation.

_Lady Teazle._--What! would you restrain the freedom of speech?

_Sir Peter._--Ah! they have made you just as bad as any one of the

society.

_Lady Teazle._--Why, I believe I do bear a part with a tolerable

grace.

_Sir Peter._--Grace indeed!

_Lady Teazle._--But I vow I bear no malice against the people I abuse:

when I say an ill-natured thing, 'tis out of pure good humour: and I

take it for granted they deal exactly the same with me. But, Sir

Peter, you know you promised to come to Lady Sneerwell's too.

_Sir Peter._--Well, well, I'll call in, just to look after my own

character.

_Lady Teazle._--Then, indeed, you must make haste after me, or you'll

be too late. So good-bye to ye. (_Exit_)

_Sir Peter._--So--I have gained much by my intended expostulation!

Yet with what a charming air she contradicts everything I say, and how

pleasantly she shows her contempt for my authority! Well, though I

can't make her love me, there is great satisfaction in quarrelling

with her; and I think she never appears to such advantage as when she

is doing everything in her power to plague me. _(Exit_)

--_Richard Brinsley Sheridan_

Select the passages where Lady Teazle tries to enforce

her opinion by (a) strong assertion, (b) peevishness and

whining.

In what passages does her desire to taunt and ridicule

Sir Peter predominate?

In what passages does she address Sir Peter in the tone

of ordinary conversation?

What Stress is used in each case? (Introduction, pp.

28-30.)

HAD YOU ANY OF THESE LITTLE ELEGANT EXPENSES? What

Stress is placed on the last four words?

* * * * *

THE PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS

From "Marmion"

Not far advanced was morning day,

When Marmion did his troop array

To Surrey's camp to ride;

He had safe-conduct for his band,

Beneath the royal seal and hand, 5

And Douglas gave a guide.

The ancient Earl, with stately grace,

Would Clara on her palfrey place,

And whispered in an undertone,

"Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown." 10

The train from out the castle drew,

But Marmion stopped to bid adieu:

"Though something I might plain," he said,

"Of cold respect to stranger guest,

Sent hither by your King's behest, 15

While in Tantallon's towers I stayed;

Part we in friendship from your land,

And, noble earl, receive my hand."

But Douglas round him drew his cloak,

Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: 20

"My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still

Be open, at my Sovereign's will,

To each one whom he lists, howe'er

Unmeet to be the owner's peer.

My castles are my King's alone, 25

From turret to foundation-stone:

The hand of Douglas is his own;

And never shall, in friendly grasp,

The hand of such as Marmion clasp."

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, 30

And shook his very frame for ire;

And--"This to me," he said,

"An't were not for thy hoary beard,

Such hand as Marmion's had not spared

To cleave the Douglas' head! 35

And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer,

He who does England's message here,

Although the meanest in her state,

May well, proud Angus, be thy mate:

And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, 40

Even in thy pitch of pride

Here in thy hold, thy vassals near

(Nay, never look upon your lord,

And lay your hands upon your sword,)

I tell thee, thou'rt defied! 45

And if thou saidst, I am not peer

To any lord in Scotland here,

Lowland or Highland, far or near,

Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"

On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage 50

O'ercame the ashen hue of age:

Fierce he broke forth: "And darest thou, then,

To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?

And hopest thou hence unscathed to go?-- 55

No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no!--

Up drawbridge, grooms!--what, Warder, ho!

Let the portcullis fall."

Lord Marmion turned,--well was his need,--

And dashed the rowels in his steed, 60

Like arrow through the archway sprung,

The ponderous grate behind him rung:

To pass there was such scanty room,

The bars, descending, grazed his plume.

The steed along the drawbridge flies, 65

Just as it trembles on the rise;

Nor lighter does the swallow skim

Along the smooth lake's level brim:

And when Lord Marmion reached his band,

He halts, and turns with clenched hand, 70

And shout of loud defiance pours,

And shook his gauntlet at the towers.

"Horse! horse!" the Douglas cried, "and chase!"

But soon he reined his fury's pace:

"A royal messenger he came, 75

Though most unworthy of the name.

A letter forged! Saint Jude to speed!

Did ever knight so foul a deed!

At first, in heart, it liked me ill,

When the King praised his clerkly skill. 80

Thanks to Saint Bothan, son of mine,

Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line.

Saint Mary mend my fiery mood!

Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood;

I thought to slay him where he stood. 85

'Tis pity of him, too," he cried:

"Bold can he speak, and fairly ride:

I warrant him a warrior tried."--

With this his mandate he recalls,

And slowly seeks his castle halls. 90

--_Sir Walter Scott_

In what Quality of voice should the following passages

of this poem be read: (_a_) the descriptive parts; (_b_)

l. 10; (_c_) the first speeches of Marmion and Douglas,

ll. 14-18, and ll. 21-29; (_d_) the second speeches of

Marmion and Douglas, ll. 32-49, and ll. 52-56; (_e_) ll.

57-58, and ll. 75-88?

* * * * *

COLUMBUS

Behind him lay the gray Azores.

Behind him the gates of Hercules;

Before him not the ghost of shores,

Before him only shoreless seas.

The good mate said: "Now we must pray, 5

For, lo! the very stars are gone.

Brave Adm'r'l, speak; what shall I say?"

"Why, say: 'Sail on! sail on! and on!'"

"My men grow mutinous day by day;

My men grow ghastly wan and weak." 10

The stout mate thought of home; a spray

Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.

"What shall I say, brave Adm'r'l, say,

If we sight naught but seas at dawn?"

"Why, you shall say, at break of day: 15

'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!'"

They sailed and sailed as winds might blow,

Until at last the blanched mate said:

"Why, now not even God would know

Should I and all my men fall dead. 20

These very winds forget the way,

For God from these dread seas is gone.

Now speak, brave Adm'r'l, speak and say--"

He said: "Sail on! sail on! and on!"

They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: 25

"This mad sea shows his teeth to-night;

He curls his lip, he lies in wait,

With lifted teeth as if to bite:

Brave Adm'r'l, say but one good word;

What shall we do when hope is gone?" 30

The words leapt as a leaping sword:

"Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!"

Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck

And peered through darkness. Ah, that night

Of all dark nights! And then, a speck-- 35

A light! a light! a light! a light!

It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!

It grew to be Time's burst of dawn.

He gained a world; he gave that world

Its greatest lesson; "On! sail on!" 40

--_Joaquin Miller_

--_By permission of the publishers, Whitaker & Ray-Wiggin Co._

WHAT, SHALL, WHY. (Appendix A, 7 and 8.)

Give examples of words or phrases which when repeated

become (1) unemphatic, (2) more emphatic, (3) equivalent

to a climax. (Introduction, pp. 31 and 32.)

Compare the mate's attitude of mind with that of the

Admiral. How is the difference indicated by the Stress?

* * * * *

FROM THE "APOLOGY" OF SOCRATES

From "The Dialogues of Plato"

1. Not much time will be gained, O Athenians, in return for the evil

name which you will get from the detractors of the city, who will say

that you killed Socrates, a wise man; for they will call me wise, even

although I am not wise, when they want to reproach you. If you had

waited a little while, your desire would have been fulfilled in the

course of nature. For I am far advanced in years, as you may perceive,

and not far from death. I am speaking now only to those of you who

have condemned me to death. And I have another thing to say to them:

You think that I was convicted through deficiency of words--I mean,

that if I had thought fit to leave nothing undone, nothing unsaid, I

might have gained an acquittal. Not so; the deficiency which led to

my conviction was not of words--certainly not. But I had not the

boldness or impudence or inclination to address you as you would have

liked me to address you, weeping and wailing and lamenting, and saying

and doing many things which you have been accustomed to hear from

others, and which, as I say, are unworthy of me. But I thought that I

ought not to do anything common or mean in the hour of danger; nor do

I now repent of the manner of my defence, and I would rather die

having spoken after my manner, than speak in your manner and live. For

neither in war nor yet at law ought any man to use every way of

escaping death. For often in battle there is no doubt that if a man

will throw away his arms, and fall on his knees before his pursuers,

he may escape death; and in other dangers there are other ways of

escaping death, if a man is willing to say and do anything. The

difficulty, my friends, is not in avoiding death, but in avoiding

unrighteousness; for that runs faster than death. I am old and move

slowly, and the slower runner has overtaken me, and my accusers are

keen and quick, and the faster runner, who is unrighteousness, has

overtaken them. And now I depart hence, condemned by you to suffer the

penalty of death, and they too go their ways, condemned by the truth

to suffer the penalty of villainy and wrong; and I must abide by my

reward--let them abide by theirs. I suppose that these things may be

regarded as fated,--and I think that they are well.

2. And now, O men who have condemned me, I would fain prophesy to you;

for I am about to die, and that is the hour in which men are gifted

with prophetic power. And I prophesy to you who are my murderers,

that immediately after my death punishment far heavier than you have

inflicted on me will surely await you. Me you have killed because you

wanted to escape the accuser, and not to give an account of your

lives. But that will not be as you suppose: far otherwise. For I say

that there will be more accusers of you than there are now; accusers

whom hitherto I have restrained: and as they are younger they will be

more severe with you, and you will be more offended at them. For if

you think that by killing men you can avoid the accuser censuring your

lives, you are mistaken; that is not a way of escape which is either

possible or honourable; the easiest and the noblest way is not to be

crushing others, but to be improving yourselves. This is the prophecy

which I utter before my departure to the judges who have condemned me.

3. Friends, who would have acquitted me, I would like also to talk

with you about this thing which has happened, while the magistrates

are busy, and before I go to the place at which I must die. Stay then

a while, for we may as well talk with one another while there is time.

You are my friends, and I should like to show you the meaning of this

event which has happened to me. O my judges--for you I may truly call

judges--I should like to tell you of a wonderful circumstance.

Hitherto the familiar oracle within me has constantly been in the

habit of opposing me even about trifles, if I was going to make a slip

or error about anything; and now, as you see, there has come upon me

that which may be thought, and is generally believed to be, the last

and worst evil. But the oracle made no sign of opposition, either as I

was leaving my house and going out in the morning, or when I was going

up into this court, or while I was speaking, at anything which I was

going to say; and yet I have often been stopped in the middle of a

speech, but now in nothing I either said or did touching this matter

has the oracle opposed me. What do I take to be the explanation of

this? I will tell you. I regard this as a proof that what has happened

to me is a good, and that those of us who think that death is an evil

are in error. This is a great proof to me of what I am saying, for the

customary sign would surely have opposed me had I been going to evil

and not to good.

4. Let us reflect in another way, and we shall see that there is a

great reason to hope that death is a good, for one of two things:

either death is a state of nothingness and utter unconsciousness, or,

as men say, there is a change and migration of the soul from this

world to another. Now if you suppose that there is no consciousness,

but a sleep like the sleep of him who is undisturbed even by the sight

of dreams, death will be an unspeakable gain. For if a person were to

select the night in which his sleep was undisturbed even by dreams,

and were to compare with this the other days and nights of his life,

and then were to tell us how many days and nights he had passed in the

course of his life better and more pleasantly than this one, I think

that any man, I will not say a private man, but even the great king

will not find many such days or nights, when compared with the others.

Now if death is like this, I say that to die is gain; for eternity is

then only a single night. But if death is the journey to another

place, and there, as men say, all the dead are, what good, O my

friends and judges, can be greater than this? If indeed when the

pilgrim arrives in the world below, he is delivered from the

professors of justice in this world, and finds the true judges who

are said to give judgment there, Minos and Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus,

and Triptolemus, and other sons of God who were righteous in their own

life, that pilgrimage will be worth making. What would not a man give

if he might converse with Orpheus and Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer?

Nay, if this be true, let me die again and again. I, too, shall have a

wonderful interest in a place where I can converse with Palamedes, and

Ajax the son of Telamon, and other heroes of old, who have suffered

death through an unjust judgment; and there will be no small pleasure,

as I think, in comparing my own sufferings with theirs. Above all, I

shall be able to continue my search into true and false knowledge; as

in this world, so also in that; I shall find out who is wise, and who

pretends to be wise and is not. What would not a man give, O judges,

to be able to examine the leader of the great Trojan expedition; or

Odysseus, or Sisyphus, or numberless others, men and women too! What

infinite delight would there be in conversing with them and asking

them questions! For in that world they do not put a man to death for

this; certainly not. For besides being happier in that world than in

this, they will be immortal, if what is said is true.

5. Wherefore, O judges, be of good cheer about death, and know this of

a truth--that no evil can happen to a good man, either in life or

after death. He and his are not neglected by the gods; nor has my own

approaching end happened by mere chance. But I see clearly that to die

and be released was better for me; and therefore the oracle gave no

sign. For which reason, also, I am not angry with my accusers or my

condemners; they have done me no harm, although neither of them meant

to do me any good; and for this I may gently blame them.

6. Still I have a favour to ask of them. When my sons are grown up, I

would ask you, O my friends, to punish them and I would have you

trouble them, as I have troubled you, if they seem to care about

riches, or anything, more than about virtue; or if they pretend to be

something when they are really nothing,--then reprove them, as I have

reproved you, for not caring about that for which they ought to care,

and thinking that they are something when they are really nothing. And

if you do this, I and my sons will have received justice at your

hands.

7. The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways--I to die,

and you to live. Which is better God only knows.

--_Benjamin Jowett_

Illustrate from this extract the general principle that

incompleteness is expressed by means of the Rising, and

completeness by means of the Falling Inflection.

Par. 1. FOR NEITHER IN WAR NOR YET AT LAW ... DEATH.

Explain the Inflection placed on this negative

statement. Give a similar example from Par. 2.

I MUST ABIDE BY MY AWARD ... LET THEM ABIDE BY THEIRS.

Explain the opposite Inflections on antithetical words

and phrases. If one part of the antithesis is a

negation, what is the Inflection? (Introduction, pp. 19

and 20.) Give examples from Par. 2.

I AM OLD AND MOVE SLOWLY ... WRONG. Explain the Emphasis

in these sentences. Which one of a pair of contrasted

words is necessarily emphatic? Give examples from this

and the following paragraph, in which both are emphatic,

and explain why. (Introduction, pp. 30-32.)

Par. 4. Explain the Inflection on the questions.

(Introduction, pp. 18 and 19.)

What clauses in this paragraph are really parenthetical

in force? How does the voice subordinate them? Give

similar examples from other paragraphs. (Introduction,

pp. 24 and 25.)

* * * * *

HIGHLAND HOSPITALITY

From "The Lady of the Lake"

The shades of eve come slowly down,

The woods are wrapt in deeper brown,

The owl awakens from her dell,

The fox is heard upon the fell;

Enough remains of glimmering light 5

To guide the wanderer's steps aright,

Yet not enough from far to show

His figure to the watchful foe.

With cautious step, and ear awake,

He climbs the crag and threads the brake; 10

And not the summer solstice there,

Tempered the midnight mountain air,

But every breeze that swept the wold,

Benumbed his drenched limbs with cold.

In dread, in danger, and alone, 15

Famished and chilled, through ways unknown,

Tangled and steep, he journeyed on;

Till, as a rock's huge point he turned,

A watch-fire close before him burned.

Beside its embers red and clear, 20

Basked, in his plaid, a mountaineer;

And up he sprung with sword in hand,--

"Thy name and purpose! Saxon, stand!"--

"A stranger."--"What dost thou require?"--

"Rest and a guide, and food and fire. 25

My life's beset, my path is lost.

The gale has chilled my limbs with frost."--

"Art thou a friend to Roderick?"--"No."--

"Thou darest not call thyself a foe?"--

"I dare! to him and all the band 30

He brings to aid his murderous hand."--

"Bold words!--but, though the beast of game

The privilege of chase may claim,

Though space and law the stag we lend,

Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, 35

Who ever recked, where, how, or when,

The prowling fox was trapped or slain?

Thus, treacherous scouts,--yet sure they lie,

Who say thou camest a secret spy!"--

"They do, by Heaven!--Come Roderick Dhu, 40

And of his clan the boldest two,

And let me but till morning rest,

I write the falsehood on their crest."--

"If by the blaze I mark aright,

Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight."-- 45

"Then, by these tokens mayest thou know,

Each proud oppressor's mortal foe."--

"Enough, enough; sit down and share

A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare."--

He gave him of his Highland cheer, 50

The hardened flesh of mountain deer;

Dry fuel on the fire he laid,

And bade the Saxon share his plaid.

He tended him like welcome guest,

Then thus his further speech addressed:-- 55

"Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu

A clansman born, a kinsman true;

Each word against his honour spoke,

Demands of me avenging stroke;

Yet more,--upon thy fate, 'tis said, 60

A mighty augury is laid.

It rests with me to wind my horn,

Thou art with numbers overborne;

It rests with me, here, brand to brand,

Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand: 65

But not for clan, nor kindred's cause,

Will I depart from honour's laws;

To assail a wearied man were shame,

And stranger is a holy name;

Guidance and rest, and food and fire, 70

In vain he never must require.

Then rest thee here till dawn of day;

Myself will guide thee on the way,

O'er stock and stone, through watch and ward.

Till past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard, 75

As far as Coilantogle's ford;

From thence thy warrant is thy sword."--

"I take thy courtesy, by Heaven,

As freely as 'tis nobly given!"--

"Well, rest thee; for the bittern's cry 80

Sings us the lake's wild lullaby."

With that he shook the gathered heath,

And spread his plaid upon the wreath;

And the brave foemen, side by side,

Lay peaceful down, like brothers tried, 85

And slept until the dawning beam

Purpled the mountain and the stream.

--_Sir Walter Scott_

PREPARATORY.--Connect this scene with the rest of the

poem.

Give a dramatic form to this extract, describing

definitely the scenery and stage-setting. One reader may

render the descriptive parts, another the speeches of

Roderick Dhu, and a third those of Fitz-James.

WANDERER'S STEPS, CAUTIOUS STEP, TRECHEROUS SCOUTS,

BOLDEST TWO. (Appendix A, 6.)

25 and 70. (Appendix A, 5.) 1-4. Note the word-pictures.

How do they affect the Pause? (Introduction, pp. 7 and

8.)

7. NOT ENOUGH. With what is it contrasted? Which word is

emphatic? Where do the Pauses occur in this line?

9. What is the atmosphere of this line? What is the

Quality of voice? (Introduction, p. 34.)

10-11. What Inflection? Why? What is the Shading when

compared with the two following lines? (Introduction, p.

24.)

16-17. Give an example of Grouping.

18-19. Compare the Shading of these two lines.

22. What feeling and movement are here expressed? How

does the voice give expression to them? (Introduction,

pp. 5, 6, and 27.)

Describe the mental attitude of each of the speakers.

What is the Stress in each case? (Introduction, pp.

27-29.)

38. THE PROWLING FOX ... SCOUTS. What is the mental

attitude here? What Stress is the result? (Introduction,

p. 28.) How does the rest of the speech differ from the

preceding? What is the Inflection? (Introduction, p.

18.)

What is the Stress of ordinary conversation? Illustrate

from the above selection.

32-39. BOLD WORDS ... SPY. (Introduction, p. 24.)

48. Why should SIT DOWN be kept distinct from SHARE? How

is this effected?

60. 'TIS SAID. How does the voice subordinate this

phrase? (Introduction, p. 24.)

66-69. Which are the emphatic words and why are they

emphatic?

77. What feeling is introduced here? How does the voice

express it?

* * * * *

THE OUTLAW

From "Rokeby"

O, Brignall banks are wild and fair,

And Greta woods are green,

And you may gather garlands there,

Would grace a summer queen.

And as I rode by Dalton-Hall, 5

Beneath the turrets high,

A Maiden on the castle wall

Was singing merrily,--

"O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,

And Greta woods are green; 10

I'd rather rove with Edmund there

Than reign our English queen."--

"If, Maiden, thou would'st wend with me,

To leave both tower and town,

Thou first must guess what life lead we 15

That dwell by dale and down.

And if thou canst that riddle read,

As read full well you may,

Then to the greenwood shalt thou speed

As blithe as Queen of May."-- 20

Yet sung she, "Brignall banks are fair,

And Greta woods are green;

I'd rather rove with Edmund there.

Than reign our English queen.

"I read you by your bugle-horn, 25

And by your palfrey good,

I read you for a Ranger sworn,

To keep the king's greenwood."--

"A Ranger, lady, winds his horn,

And 'tis at peep of light; 30

His blast is heard at merry morn,

And mine at dead of night."--

Yet sung she, "Brignall banks are fair,

And Greta woods are gay;

I would I were with Edmund there, 35

To reign his Queen of May!

"With burnish'd brand and musketoon,

So gallantly you come,

I read you for a bold Dragoon,

That lists the tuck of drum."-- 40

"I list no more the tuck of drum,

No more the trumpet hear;

But when the beetle sounds his hum

My comrades take the spear.

"And O! though Brignall banks be fair 45

And Greta woods be gay,

Yet mickle must the maiden dare

Would reign my Queen of May!

"Maiden! a nameless life I lead,

A nameless death I'll die! 50

The fiend whose lantern lights the mead

Were better mate than I!

And when I'm with my comrades met

Beneath the greenwood bough,

What once we were we all forget, 55

Nor think what we are now.

"Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair,

And Greta woods are green,

And you may gather garlands there

Would grace a summer queen." 60

--_Sir Walter Scott_

PREPARATORY.--"The Life of an Outlaw." Speak on this

subject, illustrating from such characters as Rob Roy,

Robin Hood, etc., and emphasizing the pathos of such a

life.

For dramatic rendering see preparatory notes on

_Highland Hospitality_.

1-4. What Stress indicates the state of mind reflected

by these lines? (Introduction, p. 29.)

3, 11. What Inflection is placed on THERE?

(Introduction, p. 16.)

12. What word may be supplied after REIGN? How is this

indicated in the reading? (Introduction, p. 10.)

13-20. Read these lines with a view to Perspective.

(Introduction, p. 33.)

Give examples of Grouping throughout the poem and show

how the Pause is affected. (Introduction, p. 11.)

What words in stanza iii are emphatic through contrast?

In stanza v?

What feeling in the last half of stanza v?

(Introduction, pp. 10-12.) In what Time, Pitch, and

Force are these lines read? Give your reasons.

* * * * *

OF STUDIES

From the "Essays"

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and for ability. Their chief

use for delight, is in privateness and retiring; for ornament, is in

discourse; and for ability, is in the judgment and disposition of

business. For expert men can execute, and perhaps judge of

particulars, one by one; but the general counsels, and the plots, and

marshalling of affairs, come best from those that are learned.

To spend too much time in studies, is sloth; to use them too much for

ornament, is affectation; to make judgment wholly by their rules, is

the humour of a scholar. They perfect nature and are perfected by

experience: for natural abilities are like natural plants, that need

pruning by study; and studies themselves do give forth directions too

much at large, except they be bounded in by experience.

Crafty men contemn studies; simple men admire them; and wise men use

them; for they teach not their own use; but that is a wisdom without

them, and above them, won by observation. Read not to contradict and

confute; nor to believe and take for granted; nor to find talk and

discourse; but to weigh and consider.

Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to

be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in

parts; others to be read, but not curiously; and some few to be read

wholly, and with diligence and attention. Some books also may be read

by deputy, and extracts made of them by others; but that would be only

in the less important arguments, and the meaner sort of books; else

distilled books are like common distilled waters, flashy things.

Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an

exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a

good memory, if he confer little, he had need have a present wit; and

if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that

he doth not.

If a man's wit be wandering, let him study the mathematics; for in

demonstrations, if his wit be called away never so little, he must

begin again; if his wits be not apt to distinguish or find

differences, let him study the schoolmen; if he be not apt to beat

over matters, and to call up one thing to prove and illustrate

another, let him study the lawyers' cases. So every defect of the mind

may have a special receipt.

--_Lord Bacon_

Preparatory.--Observe the sentence structure employed

throughout this extract, and make a list of the

antithetical words and phrases.

This lesson may be used as an exercise to illustrate the

principle of Inflection as applied to antithetical words

or phrases and to series of words or phrases parallel in

construction. (Introduction, p. 20.)

* * * * *

THE INFLUENCE OF ATHENS

From essay "On Mitford's History of Greece"

If we consider merely the subtlety of disquisition, the force of

imagination, the perfect energy and elegance of expression, which

characterize the great works of Athenian genius, we must pronounce

them intrinsically most valuable. But what shall we say when we

reflect that from hence have sprung, directly or indirectly, all the

noblest creations of the human intellect; that from hence were the

vast accomplishments and the brilliant fancy of Cicero, the withering

fire of Juvenal, the plastic imagination of Dante, the humour of

Cervantes, the comprehension of Bacon, the wit of Butler, the supreme

and universal excellence of Shakespeare?

All the triumphs of truth and genius over prejudice and power, in

every country and in every age, have been the triumphs of Athens.

Wherever a few great minds have made a stand against violence and

fraud, in the cause of liberty and reason, there has been her spirit

in the midst of them; inspiring, encouraging, consoling;--by the

lonely lamp of Erasmus, by the restless bed of Pascal, in the tribune

of Mirabeau, in the cell of Galileo, on the scaffold of Sidney.

But who shall estimate her influence on private happiness? Who shall

say how many thousands have been made wiser, happier, and better, by

those pursuits in which she has taught mankind to engage; to how many

the studies which took their rise from her have been wealth in

poverty, liberty in bondage, health in sickness, society in solitude?

Her power is, indeed, manifested at the bar, in the senate, in the

field of battle, in the schools of philosophy. But these are not her

glory. Wherever literature consoles sorrow, or assuages pain; wherever

it brings gladness to eyes which fail with wakefulness and tears, and

ache for the dark house and the long sleep,--there is exhibited, in

its noblest form, the immortal influence of Athens.

The dervish, in the Arabian tale, did not hesitate to abandon to his

comrade the camels with their loads of jewels and gold, while he

retained the casket of that mysterious juice which enabled him to

behold at one glance all the hidden riches of the universe. Surely it

is no exaggeration to say that no external advantage is to be compared

with that purification of the intellectual eye which gives us to

contemplate the infinite wealth of the mental world, all the hoarded

treasures of its primeval dynasties, all the shapeless ore of its yet

unexplored mines. This is the gift of Athens to man.

Her freedom and her power have, for more than twenty centuries, been

annihilated; her people have degenerated into timid slaves; her

language, into a barbarous jargon; her temples have been given up to

the successive depredations of Romans, Turks, and Scotchmen; but her

intellectual empire is imperishable.

And when those who have rivalled her greatness shall have shared her

fate; when civilization and knowledge shall have fixed their abode in

distant continents; when the sceptre shall have passed away from

England; when, perhaps, travellers from distant regions shall in vain

labour to decipher on some mouldering pedestal the name of our

proudest chief, shall hear savage hymns chaunted to some misshapen

idol over the ruined dome of our proudest temple, and shall see a

single naked fisherman wash his nets in the river of the ten thousand

masts,--her influence and her glory will still survive,--fresh in

eternal youth, exempt from mutability and decay, immortal as the

intellectual principle from which they derived their origin, and over

which they exercise their control.

--_Macaulay_

Illustrate from this lesson the principle of Inflection

as applied to (1) a series of words parallel in

construction; (2) rhetorical questions.

How should the principal clause in the last paragraph be

made prominent by the voice? (Introduction, p. 33.)

* * * * *

NATIONAL MORALITY

1. I believe there is no permanent greatness to a nation except it be

based upon morality. I do not care for military greatness or military

renown. I care for the condition of the people among whom I live.

There is no man in England who is less likely to speak irreverently of

the Crown and Monarchy of England than I am; but crowns, coronets,

mitres, military display, the pomp of war, wide colonies, and a huge

empire, are, in my view, all trifles light as air, and not worth

considering, unless with them you can have a fair share of comfort,

contentment, and happiness, among the great body of the people.

Palaces, baronial castles, great halls, stately mansions, do not make

a nation. The nation in every country dwells in the cottage; and

unless the light of your Constitution can shine there, unless the

beauty of your legislation and the excellence of your statesmanship

are impressed there on the feelings and condition of the people, rely

upon it, you have yet to learn the duties of government.

2. I have not pleaded, as you have observed, that this country should

remain without adequate and scientific means of defence. I acknowledge

it to be the duty of your statesmen, acting upon the known opinions

and principles of ninety-nine out of every one hundred persons in the

country, at all times, with all possible moderation, but with all

possible efficiency, to take steps which shall preserve order within

and on the confines of your kingdom. But I shall repudiate and

denounce the expenditure of every shilling, the engagement of every

man, the employment of every ship which has no object but

intermeddling in the affairs of other countries and endeavouring to

extend the boundaries of an Empire which is already large enough to

satisfy the greatest ambition, and I fear is much too large for the

highest statesmanship to which any man has yet attained.

3. The most ancient of profane historians has told us that the

Scythians of his time were a very warlike people, and that they

elevated an old scimitar upon a platform as a symbol of Mars, for to

Mars alone, I believe, they built altars and offered sacrifices. To

this scimitar they offered sacrifices of horses and cattle, the main

wealth of the country, and more costly sacrifices than to all the rest

of their gods. I often ask myself whether we are at all advanced in

one respect beyond those Scythians. What are our contributions to

charity, to education, to morality, to religion, to justice, and to

civil government, when compared with the wealth we expend in

sacrifices to the old scimitar?

4. Two nights ago I addressed in this hall a vast assembly composed to

a great extent of your countrymen, who have no political power, who

are at work from the dawn of the day to the evening, and who have

therefore limited means of informing themselves on these great

subjects. Now I am privileged to speak to a somewhat different

audience. You represent those of your great community who have a more

complete education, who have on some points greater intelligence, and

in whose hands reside the power and influence of the district. I am

speaking, too, within the hearing of those whose gentle nature, whose

finer instincts, whose purer minds, have not suffered as some of us

have suffered in the turmoil and strife of life. You can mould

opinion, you can create political power,--you cannot think a good

thought on this subject and communicate it to your neighbours,--you

cannot make these points topics of discussion in your social circles

and more general meetings, without affecting sensibly and speedily the

course which the government of your country will pursue. May I ask

you, then, to believe, as I do most devoutly believe, that the moral

law was not written for men alone in their individual character, but

that it was written as well for nations, and for nations great as this

of which we are citizens. If nations reject and deride that moral law,

there is a penalty which will inevitably follow. It may not come at

once, it may not come in our lifetime; but, rely upon it, the great

Italian is not a poet only, but a prophet, when he says:

The sword of heaven is not in haste to smite,

Nor yet doth linger.

5. We have experience, we have beacons, we have landmarks enough. We

know what the past has cost us, we know how much and how far we have

wandered, but we are not left without a guide. It is true, we have

not, as an ancient people had, Urim and Thummin--those oraculous gems

in Aaron's breast--from which to take counsel, but we have the

unchangeable and eternal principles of the moral law to guide us, and

only so far as we walk by that guidance can we be permanently a great

nation, or our people a happy people.

--_The Right Honourable John Bright_

BARONIAL, CASTLES, CHARACTER, PAST. (Appendix A, 1.)

Par. 1. MILITARY GREATNESS, MILITARY RENOWN. Note the

transferred Emphasis. (Introduction, pp. 31 and 32.)

CROWNS, CORONETS, ETC. Explain the Inflection on each

member of this series. Give similar examples from this

paragraph and from Pars. 3, 4, and 5.

UNLESS WITH THEM, ETC. How does the voice prepare the

listener for this clause? Give a similar example from

Par. 4.

YOU HAVE YET TO LEARN, ETC. How is this clause made

prominent?

Par. 2. Give an analysis of the second sentence from the

standpoint of Perspective.

THE EXPENDITURE ... SHIP. How is the Climax brought out?

FOR THE HIGHTEST ... ATTAINED. Note the Grouping. Give

another example from this sentence.

Par. 4. NATIONS. What Inflection on this word? With what

is it contrasted?

* * * * *

HAMLET'S ADVICE TO THE PLAYERS

Act III. Scene 2

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to

you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as

many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier

spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with

your hand, thus; but use all gently: for in the very 5

torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of

passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that

may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to

hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to

tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, 10

who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but

inexplicable dumb-shows and noise: I would have such

a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-herods

Herod: pray you, avoid it.

Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion 15

be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to

the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep

not the modesty of nature: for anything so overdone

is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the

first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror 20

up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her

own image, and the very age and body of the time his

form and pressure. Now, this overdone or come tardy

off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make

the judicious grieve; the censure of the which one 25

must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of

others. O, there be players that I have seen play, and

heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it

profanely, that neither having the accent of Christains

nor the gait of Christain, pagan, nor man, have so 30

strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of

nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them

well, they imitated humanity so abominably.

--_Shakespeare_

MOUTH, TOWN-CRIER, TAME, JOURNEYMEN. Why are these words

emphatic? (Introduction, p. 30.)

Explain FROM THE PURPOSE OF PLAYING, COME TARDY OFF, THE

CENSURE OF THE WHICH ... OTHERS. What are the emphatic

words in each?

TORRENT, TEMPEST, WHIRLWIND. Observe the Climax.

Give other examples of Climax from this selection and

show how the Emphasis is employed. (Introduction, p.

31.)

Select parenthetical clauses and show how they are

subordinated. (Introduction, p. 24.)

Read the last two sentences with a view to Perspective.

(Introduction, p. 33.)

* * * * *

ROSABELLE

From "The Lay of the Last Minstrel"

O listen, listen, ladies gay!

No haughty feat of arms I tell;

Soft is the note, and sad the lay

That mourns the lovely Rosabelle.

"Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew!

And, gentle ladye, deign to stay!

Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch,

Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day.

"The blackening wave is edged with white;

To inch and rock the sea-mews fly;

The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite,

Whose screams forebode that wreck is =nigh=.

"Last night the gifted Seer did view

A wet shroud swathed round ladye gay;

Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch;

Why cross the gloomy firth to-day?"--

"'Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir

To-night at Roslin leads the ball,

But that my ladye-mother there

Sits lonely in her castle-hall.

"'Tis not because the ring they ride,

And Lindesay at the ring rides well,

But that my sire the wine will chide

If 'tis not fill'd by Rosabelle."--

O'er Roslin all that dreary night

A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam;

'Twas broader than the watch-fire's light,

And redder than the bright moonbeam.

It glared on Roslin's castled rock,

It ruddied all the copse-wood glen;

'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak,

And seen from cavern'd Hawthornden.

Seem'd all on fire that chapel proud,

Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie,

Each Baron, for a sable shroud,

Sheathed in his iron panoply.

Seem'd all on fire within, around,

Deep sacristy and altar's pale;

Shone every pillar foliage-bound,

And glimmer'd all the dead men's mail.

Blazed battlement and pinnet high,

Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair--

So still they blaze, when fate is nigh

The lordly line of high Saint Clair.

There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold

Lie buried within that proud chapelle;

Each one the holy vault doth hold--

But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle!

And each Saint Clair was buried there

With candle, with book, and with knell;

But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung

The dirge of lovely Rosabelle!

--_Sir Walter Scott_

PREPARATORY.--Describe the scene suggested by the first

stanza.

Make three scenes of the rest of the poem, and give a

descriptive title to each.

Articulation. (Appendix A, 1, 3, and 6.)

Stanza i. How is the ellipsis in l. 3 indicated?

Stanza ii. What is the difference between the way the

speaker addresses the crew and that in which he

addresses the lady?

Stanzas iii-iv. How does the reader make prominent the

four different arguments of the speaker in ll. 9-15, at

the same time showing that each is a stronger warning

than the last? (Introduction, pp. 24, 25, and 31.)

Stanzas v-vi. What is the Inflection on the negative

statements in the first two lines of each stanza?

Stanzas vii-xi. What feeling pervades the description of

the ominous light over Roslyn? What Quality of voice is

the natural outcome? (Introduction, p. 34.)

What are the central ideas in stanzas vii, ix, and x?

How is the break in the thought after FAIR, (stanza xi)

shown? (Introduction, pp. 8, 9, and 25.)

Stanzas xii-xiii. What phrases contrast the burial of

the Saint Clairs with that of Rosabelle? What contrast

of feeling?

* * * * *

THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS

December, 1697

The Rhine is running deep and red, the island lies before,--

"Now is there one of all the host will dare to venture o'er?

For not alone the river's sweep might make a brave man quail;

The foe are on the further side, their shot comes fast as hail.

God help us, if the middle isle we may not hope to win; 5

Now is there any of the host will dare to venture in?"

"The ford is deep, the banks are steep, the island-shore lies wide;

Nor man nor horse could stem its force, or reach the further side.

See there! amidst the willow-boughs the serried bayonets gleam;

They've flung their bridge,--they've won the isle; the foe have

cross'd the stream! 10

Their volley flashes sharp and strong,--by all the saints! I trow

There never yet was soldier born could force that passage now!"

So spoke the bold French Mareschal with him who led the van,

Whilst rough and red before their view the turbid river ran.

Nor bridge nor boat had they to cross the wild and swollen Rhine, 15

And thundering on the other bank far stretch'd the German line.

Hard by there stood a swarthy man was leaning on his sword,

And a sadden'd smile lit up his face as he heard the Captain's word.

"I've seen a wilder stream ere now than that which rushes there;

I've stemm'd a heavier torrent yet and never thought to dare. 20

If German steel be sharp and keen, is ours not strong and true?

There may be danger in the deed, but there is honour too."

The old lord in his saddle turn'd, and hastily he said,

"Hath bold Duguesclin's fiery heart awaken'd from the dead?

Thou art the leader of the Scots,--now well and sure I know, 25

That gentle blood in dangerous hour ne'er yet ran cold nor slow,

And I have seen ye in the fight do all that mortal may:

If honour is the boon ye seek, it may be won this day,--

The prize is in the middle isle, there lies the adventurous way,

And armies twain are on the plain, the daring deed to see,-- 30

Now ask thy gallant company if they will follow thee!"

Right gladsome look'd the Captain then, and nothing did he say,

But he turn'd him to his little band, O, few, I ween, were they!

The relics of the bravest force that ever fought in fray.

No one of all that company but bore a gentle name, 35

Not one whose fathers had not stood in Scotland's fields of fame.

All they had march'd with great Dundee to where he fought and fell,

And in the deadly battle-strife had venged their leader well;

And they had bent the knee to earth when every eye was dim,

As o'er their hero's buried corpse they sang the funeral hymn; 40

And they had trod the Pass once more, and stoop'd on either side.

To pluck the heather from the spot where he had dropp'd and died;

And they had bound it next their hearts, and ta'en a last farewell

Of Scottish earth and Scottish sky, where Scotland's glory fell.

Then went they forth to foreign lands like bent and broken men, 45

Who leave their dearest hope behind, and may not turn again.

"The stream," he said, "is broad and deep, and stubborn is

the foe,--

Yon island-strength is guarded well,--say, brothers, will ye go?

From home and kin for many a year our steps have wander'd wide,

And never may our bones be laid our fathers' graves beside. 50

No children have we to lament, no wives to wail our fall;

The traitor's and the spoiler's hand have reft our hearths of all.

But we have hearts, and we have arms, as strong to will and dare

As when our ancient banners flew within the northern air.

Come, brothers! let me name a spell shall rouse your souls again, 55

And send the old blood bounding free through pulse and heart

and vein.

Call back the days of bygone years,--be young and strong once more;

Think yonder stream, so stark and red, is one we've cross'd before.

Rise, hill and glen! rise, crag and wood! rise up on either hand,--

Again upon the Garry's banks, on Scottish soil we stand! 60

Again I see the tartans wave, again the trumpets ring;

Again I hear our leader's call: 'Upon them for the King!'

Stay'd we behind that glorious day for roaring flood or linn?

The soul of Graeme is with us still,--now, brothers, will ye in?"