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RUSH'S PHILOSOPHY OF THE HUMAN VOICE

R. RUSH, whose "Philosophy of the Human Voice» presents the most minute and scientific analysis of the subject that has yet appeared, adopts an arrangement of the elementary sounds of our language into tonics, subtonics, atonics, and aspirates. He distinguishes the qualities of the voice under the following heads: The Orotund, which is fuller in volume than the common voice; the Tremor, the Aspiration, the Guttural, the Falsette, and the Whisper. The complex movement of the voice occasioned by the union of the rising and falling slides on the same long syllable he calls a wave. It is termed by Steele and Walker the circumflex accent. Dr. Rush illustrates the slides of the voice by reference to the Diatonic scale, consisting of a succession of eight sounds, either in an ascending or descending series, and embracing seven proximate intervals, five of which are tones, and two semitones. Each sound is called a note, and the changes of pitch from any one note to another are either discrete or concrete, and may be either rising or falling. Concrete changes of pitch are called slides; and of these movements there are appropriated to speech the slides through five different intervals, -the semitone, the second, the third, the fifth, and the octave. By a careful analysis of the speaking voice, Dr. Rush shows that its movements can be measured and set to the musical scale; and that, however various the combinations of these vocal movements may at first appear, they may readily be reduced to six, called phrases of melody. These are the monotone, the rising and falling ditone, the rising and falling tritone, and the alternate phrase. By a more careful analysis, we ascertain that some of the simpler styles of delivery take their character from the predominance of some one of these phrases of melody. Thus we have the diatonic melody, the melody of the monotone, of the alternate phrase, and of the cadence; and to these are added the chromatic melody, which arises from the predominance of the semitone and the broken melody.

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INSUFFICIENCY OF ARBITRARY SYSTEMS OF ELOCUTION

T WOULD be impossible, in the space we have given to the subject, to do justice to any one of these ingenious analyses; and it would be quite unprofitable to enumerate the many systems that have been deduced from them up to the present time. The important question is, do they establish, severally or collectively, a positive science of elocution, which will justify the pupil in laboring to master it in its details, and to accomplish himself according to its rules of practice? We believe there are very few students who have given much time and attention to the subject who will not render a negative reply. The shades of expression in language are often so delicate and undistinguishable that intonation will inevitably vary according to the temperament of the speaker, his appreciation of the sense, and the intensity with which he enters into the spirit of what he utters. It is impossible to establish rules of mathematical precision for utterance any more than for dancing. Take the first line of Mark Antony's harangue:

"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!

An ingenious speaker will give, at one time, the falling inflection and at another the rising, to the word "countrymen," and both modes shall seem equally expressive and appropriate. Nay, he will at one moment place the chief stress upon ❝lend» and the next upon "ears," and he will make either mode of rendering the verse

appear appropriate and expressive. We do not deny that there are passages in regard to which there can be little doubt as to the inflection and emphasis to be employed; but these are precisely the passages in reference to which rules are not needed, so obvious is the sense to every intelligent reader, and so unerringly does nature guide us.

"Probably not a single instance," says Archbishop Whately, "could be found of any one who has attained, by the study of any system of instruction that has appeared, a really good delivery; but there are many-probably nearly as many as have fully tried the experiment—who have by this means been totally spoiled." There is one principle, he says, radically erroneous, which must vitiate every system founded on it, the principle, "that, in order to acquire the best style of delivery, it is requisite to study analytically the emphasis, tones, pauses, degrees of loudness, etc., which give the proper effect to each passage that is well delivered; to frame rules founded on the observation of these, and then, in practice, deliberately and carefully to conform the utterance to these rules, so as to form a complete artificial system of elocution.» «To the adoption of any such artificial scheme there are three weighty objections: First, that the proposed system must necessarily be imperfect; secondly, that if it were perfect, it would be a circuitous path to the object in view; and, thirdly, that even if both these objections were removed, the object would not be effectually obtained.»

The first of those objections, which is not denied by the most strenuous advocates of the artificial systems, would seem to be all-sufficient. Any number of rules must needs leave the subject incomplete, inasmuch as the analysis of sentences, in their structure, and their relations to vocal inflection, may be carried to almost any extent. Few rules can be laid down to which many unforeseen exceptions cannot be made. Mr. Walker, in his "Rhetorical Grammar," published some years after his "Elements of Elocution» had been before the public, admits the practical failure of the systems founded on his analysis. "The sanguine expectations I had once entertained," he says, "that this 'Analysis of the Human Voice' would be received by the learned with avidity, are now over." And, his imagination kindling at a ray of hope, he adds: "It is not improbable that the active genius of the French, who are so remarkably attentive to their language, may first adopt this vehicle» of instruction in reading and speaking. But more than forty years have passed since this suggestion was thrown out; and the French, so quick to adopt improvements based on scientific analysis, have been as backward as Walker's own countrymen in applying to practical uses his discovery. But although the science of Europe has weighed these artificial systems in the balance, and found them wanting for practical purposes of instruction, the hope seems to be entertained that Young America will not yet a while concur in the judgment.

"It is surely a circuitous path," says Archbishop Whately, "when the learner is directed first to consider how each passage ought to be read (that is, what mode of delivering each part of it would spontaneously occur to him, if he were attending exclusively to the matter of it); then to observe all the modulations, etc., of voice, which take place in such a delivery; then to note these down, by established marks, in writing; and, lastly, to pronounce according to these marks.» «Such instruction is like that bestowed by Molière's pedantic tutor upon his Bourgeois Gentilhomme, who was taught, to his infinite surprise and delight, what configurations of the mouth he employed in pronouncing the several letters of the alphabet, which he had been accustomed to utter, all his life, without knowing how."

The labors of Steele, Walker, and Rush are important, and their analyses of vocal expression may always be studied with profit. But the attempt to establish a

practical system of elocutionary rules, which may be a consistent and reliable guide to the pupil in reading aloud and in declamation, has been continually baffled. The subject is not one that, in its nature, admits of a resolution into rigid analytical rules. Thought and language being as various as the minds of men, the inflections of the human voice must partake of their plastic quality; and passion and genuine emotion must break through all the rules which theorists can frame. Anatomy is a curious and a profitable study; but what if we were to tell the pugilist that, in order to give a blow with due effect, he ought to know how the muscles depend for their powers of contraction and relaxation on the nerves, and how the nerves issue from the brain and the spinal marrow, with similar facts, requiring, perhaps, a lifetime of study for their proper comprehension, would he not laugh at us for our advice? And yet, even more unreasonable is it to say, that, to accomplish ourselves in reading and speaking, we must be able to classify a sentence under the head of "loose" or "compact," and their subdivisions, and then to glibly enunciate it according to some arbitrary rule, to which, the probability is, there are many unsurmised exceptions. When Edmund Kean thrilled the heart of a great audience with the tones of indescribable pathos which he imparted to the words, —

"Othello's occupation's gone,"

it would have puzzled him to tell whether the sentence was a "simple declarative » or an "imperfect loose.» He knew as little of "intensive slides," "bends,» "sweeps," and "closes," as Cribb, the boxer, did of osteology. He studied the intonation which most touched his own heart; and he gave it, reckless of rules, or, rather, guided by that paramount rule, which seeks the highest triumphs of art in elocution in the most genuine utterances of nature.

Attention is the secret of success in speaking, as in other departments of human effort. Sir Isaac Newton was one day asked how he had discovered the true system of the universe. He replied, "By continually thinking upon it." He was frequently heard to declare that, "if he had done the world any services, it was due to nothing but industry and patient thought; that he kept the subject under consideration constantly before him, and waited till the first dawning opened gradually, by little and little, into a full and clear light.» Attention to the meaning and full effect of what we utter in declamation will guide us, better than any system of marks, in a right disposition of emphasis and inflection. By attention, bad habits are detected and repudiated, and happy graces are seized and adopted. Demosthenes had a habit of raising one shoulder when he spoke. He corrected it by suspending a sword, so that the point would pierce the offending member when unduly elevated. He had a defective utterance, and this he amended by practicing declamation with pebbles in his mouth.

Practice in elocution, under the guidance, if possible, of an intelligent instructor, will lead to more solid results than the most devoted endeavors to learn, by written rules, what is above all human attempt at "circumscription and confine.» Possess your mind fully with the spirit of what you have to utter, and the right utterance will come by practice. If it be a political speech of a remarkable character, acquaint yourself with the circumstances under which it was originally uttered; with the history and peculiarities of the speaker; and with the interests which were at stake at the time. Enter, with all the warmth of your imaginative faculty, into the speaker's feelings; lose yourself in the occasion; let his words be stamped on your memory; and do not tire in repeating them aloud, with such action and emphasis as attention will suggest and improve, until you have acquired that facility in the utterance which is essential to an effective

delivery before an audience. It it be a poem which you have to recite, study to partake the enthusiasm which the author felt in the composition. Let the poetical element in your nature be aroused, and give it full play in the utterance of "thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.»

The practice of frequent public declamation in schools cannot be too much commended. The advantages of such training, if not immediate, will be recognized later in life. In awakening attention, inspiring confidence, acquainting the pupil with the selectest models of oratory, compelling him to try his voice before an audience, and impressing him with a sense of the importance of elocutionary culture, the benefits which accrue from these exercises are inestimable. The late John Quincy Adams used to trace to his simple habit of reciting, in obedience to his father, Collins's little ode, "How Sleep the Brave," etc., the germ of a patriotic inspiration, the effects of which he felt throughout his public career, together with the early culture of a taste for elocution, which was of great influence in shaping his future pursuits.

JOEL TYLER HEADLEY

(1813-)

OEL TYLER HEADLEY, a well-known American writer, was born in Delaware County, New York, December 30th, 1813. He wrote a "Life of Washington » and "The Great Rebellion," but he is best known for his "Napoleon and His Marshals," a work which has passed through many editions. His essay on "The Rise and Fall of Eloquence in the French Revolution» first appeared as an Introduction to the American edition of Cormenin's "Orators of France."

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AN ESSAY ON THE RISE AND FALL OF ELOQUENCE IN THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

HE end of all eloquence is to sway men. It is, therefore, bound by no arbitrary rules of diction or style, formed on no specific models, and governed by no edicts of self-selected judges. It is true, there are degrees of eloquence, and equal success does not imply equal excellence. That which is adapted to sway the strongest minds of an enlightened age ought to be esteemed the most perfect, and, doubtless, should be the gauge by which to test the abstract excellence of all oratory. But every nation has its peculiar temperament and tastes, which must be regarded in making up our judgments. Indeed, the language itself of different countries compels a widely different style and manner. To the cold and immobile Englishman, the eloquence of Italy appears like frothy declamation; while to the latter, the passionless manner and naked argument of the former, seem tame and commonplace. No man of sense would harangue the French, with their volatile feelings and love of scenic effect, in the same manner he would the Dutch, their neighbors. A similar contrast often exists in the same nation. He who could chain a Boston audience by the depth and originality of his philosophy, might be esteemed a dreamer in the far West. Colonel Crockett and Mr. Emerson would be very unequal candidates for fame amid our frontier population. A similar though not so striking a contrast exists between the North and South. A speech, best adapted to win the attention of a mixed southern assembly, would be regarded too ornamental, nay, perhaps, meretricious by one in New England. The warm blood of a southern clime will bear richer ornament and more imaginative style, than the calculating style of spirit of a northern man. The same law of adaptation must be consulted in the changes of feeling and taste that come over the same people. Once our forefathers liked the stern, unadorned old Saxon in which the Bible is written, and which characterized the sturdy English divines. A few years passed by, and the classic era, as it was called, came,—that is, a preference of Latin-derived words to Saxon, or of harmony to strength. Johnson's lofty diction threw Cicero's high-sounding sentences into the shade, and Addison's faultless elegance became to language what miniature painting is to the art of painting itself. At length