TENTH LESSON

PART 1. DRILL

1. Physical Culture, Deep Breathing, and Voice Exercise. Review the exercises of Lesson Ten of the first term, page 44.

2. Articulation. Repeat distinctly and rapidly:

3. Pronunciation. Drill in words for the sounds of i, as in idea and machine (see page 217).

PART 2. EXPRESSION

PICTURING

Read passage silently, then close your eyes and endeavor to see a mental picture of what you have just read. If it seems obscure, read the extract again, and again close your eyes and repeat the exercise of picturing the thoughts as vividly as you can. Dwell upon the details of your mental picture, and persevere until you can describe from

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your "mind's eye" what you have read from the printed page. When at last you read the passage aloud, try to see a clear-cut mental picture of what you are reading. This practise will not only develop your imagination, but will help you to rid yourself of self-consciousness and unnaturalness.

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTISE

1. Behind the crest of the plateau, under cover of the masked battery, the English infantry, formed in thirteen squares, two battalions to the square, and upon two linesseven in the first, and six in the second-with musket to the shoulder and eye upon sights, waited calm, silent and immovable. They could not see the cuirassiers, and the cuirassiers could not see them. They listened to the rising of this tide of men. They heard the increasing sound of three thousand horses, the alternate and measured striking of their hoofs at full trot, the rattling of the cuirasses, the clicking of the sabers, and a sort of fierce roar of the coming host. There was a moment of fearful silence; then, suddenly, above the crest, casques, trumpets and standards, and three thousand faces with gray mustaches, crying "Vive l'Empereur!" All this cavalry debouched on the plateau, and it was like the beginning of an earthquake. "Napoleon's Overthrow." VICTOR HUGO.

2. I have seen the flower withering on the stalk, and its bright leaves spread on the ground. I looked again; it sprang forth afresh; its stem was crowned with new buds, and its sweetness filled the air. I have seen the sun set in the west, and the shades of night shut in the wide horizon. There was no color, nor shape, nor beauty, nor music; gloom and darkness brooded around. I looked: The sun broke forth again in the east, and gilded the mountain-tops; the lark rose to meet him from her low nest, and the shades of darkness fled away. I have seen the insect being, come to its full size, languish, and refuse to eat; it spun itself a tomb and was shrouded in the silken

cone; it lay without feet, or shape, or power to move. I looked again: It had burst its tomb; it was full of life, and sailed on colored wings through the soft air; it rejoiceth in its new being. Thus shall it be with thee, O man! and so shall thy life be renewed. Beauty shall spring up out of ashes, and life out of dust. A little while shalt thou lie in the ground, as the seed lies in the bosom of the earth; but thou shalt be raised again; and thou shalt never die any more. "Immortality."

ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD.

Our

3. On went the fire, rushing and crashing through the woods. Such a night may we never again see! The heavens themselves, I thought, were frightened; for all above us was a red glare, mixed with clouds and smoke, rolling and sweeping away. bodies were cool enough, but our heads were scorching; and the child, who now seemed to understand the matter, cried so as nearly to break our hearts. The day passed on, and we became hungry. Many wild beasts came plunging into the water beside us, and others swam across to our side and stood still. Altho faint and weary I managed to shoot a porcupine, and we all tasted its flesh. The night passed, I can not tell you how. Smoldering fires covered the ground, and the trees stood like pillars of fire, or fell across each other. The stifling and sickening smoke still rushed over us, and the burned cinders and ashes fell thick about us. How we got through that night I really can not tell, for about some of it I remember nothing. "A Forest on Fire." JOHN JAMES AUDUBON.

4. It was the most intensely interesting thing to observe the manner in which Mr. Pickwick performed his share in the ceremoney; to watch the torture of anxiety with which he viewed the person behind gaining upon him at the imminent hazard of tripping him up; to see him gradually expend the painful force which he had put on at first, and turn slowly round on the slide, with his face toward the point from which he started; to contemplate the playful smile which mantled on his face when he had accomplished the distance, and the eagerness with which he

turned round when he had done so and ran after his predecessor, his black gaiters tripping pleasantly through the snow, and his eyes beaming cheerfulness and gladness through his spectacles. And when he was knocked down (which happened upon the average every third round), it was the most invigorating sight that could possibly be imagined to behold him gather up his hat, gloves and handkerchief with a glowing countenance, and resume his station in the rank with an ardor and enthusiasm which nothing could abate.

"The Pickwickians on Ice."

CHARLES DICKENS.

5. On one of those sober and rather melancholy days, in the latter part of autumn, when the shadows of morning and evening almost mingle together and throw a gloom over the decline of the year, I passed several hours in rambling about Westminster Abbey. There was something congenial to the season in the mournful magnificence of the old pile; and as I passed its threshold it seemed like stepping back into the regions of antiquity, and losing myself among the shades of former ages. I entered from the inner court of Westminster School through a long, low, vaulted passage, that had an almost subterranean look, being dimly lighted in one part by circular perforations in the massive walls. Through this dark avenue I had a distant view of the cloisters, with the figure of an old verger, in his black gown, moving along their shadowy vaults, and seeming like a specter from one of the neighboring tombs. The approach to the abbey through these gloomy monastic remains prepares the mind for its solemn contemplation. The cloisters still retain something of the quiet and seclusion of former days. The gray walls are discolored by damps and crumbling with age; a coat of hoary moss has gathered over the inscriptions of the mural monuments, and obscured the death's heads and other funereal emblems. The sharp touches of the chisel are gone from the rich tracery of the arches; the roses which adorned the keystones have lost their leafy beauty; everything bears marks of the gradual dilapidations of time, which yet has something touching and pleasing in its very decay. The sun was pouring down a yellow autumnal ray into the square of the cloisters;

beaming upon a scanty plot of grass in the center, and lighting up an angle of the vaulted passage with a kind of dusky splendor. From between the arcades the eye glanced up to a bit of blue sky or a passing cloud, and beheld the sun-gilt pinnacles of the abbey towering into the azure heaven.

"Westminster Abbey."

WASHINGTON IRVING.