tity and pauses' on the emphatic words; but punning and raillery, when good-natured, should have a higher pitch,' 'faster time,' and 'purer quality' than belongs to sarcasm which should have the middle pitch,' aspirated quality,' and rather slow time.' With both kinds the 'force' changes from 'moderate' to louder with the boldness of the spirit. 6 In the following example the part of Sir Peter Teazle should be read with strongly aspirated quality' and abrupt stress,' while the half-laughing raillery of Lady T. should have the 'pure quality' and 'tremulous stress' mingled with the compound.' and higher pitch' and 'less volume.' Ludicrous or sarcastic example. 6 "SIR PETER. Very well, ma'am, very well—so a husband is to have no influence, no authority? LADY T. Authority! No, to be surc: if you wanted authority over me, you should have adopted me, and not married me; I am sure you were old enough. Well, well. Lady SIR P. Old enough! —ay, there it is. Teazle, though my life may be made unhappy by your temper I'll not be ruined by your extravagance. LADY T. My extravagance! Sir Peter, am I to blame because flowers are dear in cold weather? You should find For my part, I'm fault with the climate, and not with me. sure, I wish it was spring all the year round, and that roses grew under our feet! SIR P. Zounds! madam if had been born to this, you I should n't wonder at your talking thus; but you forget what your situation was when I married you. LADY T. No, no, I don't; 't was a very disagreeable one, or I should never have married you. ne be out of the fashion? SIR P. The fashion, indeed! he fashion before you married me? Sir Peter! would you have What had you to do with LADY T. For my part, I should think you would like to have your wife thought a woman of taste. SI P. Ay, there again— taste. Zounds! madam, you had to taste when you married me! LADY T. 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 P. Ay, there's another precious circumstance - a charming set of acquaintance you have made there." Example of bitter irony and sarcasm closing with the impassioned kind. "I speak not to you, Mr. Renwick, of your own outcast condition; perhaps you delight in the perils of martyrdom: I speak not to those around us, who, in their persons, their substance, and their families, have endured the torture, poverty, and irremediable dishonor. They may be meek and hallowed men, willing to endure; and as for wife my what was she to you? Ye cannot be greatly disturbed that she is in her grave. No, ye are quiet, calm, prudent persons; it would be a most indiscreet thing of you, you who have suffered no wrongs yourselves, to stir on her account. 66 In truth, friends, Mr. Renwick is quite right. This feeling of indignation against our oppressors is a most imprudent thing. If we desire to enjoy our own contempt, to deserve the derision of men, and to merit the abhorrence of Heaven, let us yield ourselves to all that Charles Stuart and his sect require. We can do nothing better, nothing so meritorious, nothing by which we can so reasonably hope for punishment here and condemnation hereafter. But if there is one man at this meeting, I am speaking not of shapes and forms, but of feelings, if there is one here that feels as men were wont to feel, he will draw his sword, and say with me, Woe to the house of Stuart! woe to the oppressors!" Impassioned' pieces, such as the last of the example above and the following, should have very loud force,'' very long slides,' very abrupt stress.' Time accelerating as the pas sion cumulates, from modcrate' to 'faster,' with 'very long quantity' on the emphatic words, 'middle and higher pitch and quality,' (where the passion is not malignant,) only slightly aspirated.' Impassioned example. 66 "My castles are my king's alone, 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's head! And, Douglas, more I tell thee here On the earl's check the flush of rage O'ercame the ashen hue of age; Fierce he broke forth: And dar'st thou, then, To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall? And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go? No! by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no! Up drawbridge, groom! What, warder, ho! PART II. READING LESSONS. I. THE TWO ROADS. RICHTER. [Jean Paul Frederic Richter was born in Wunsiedel, in Germany, March 21, 1763, and died November 14, 1825. He wrote a number of works, mostly in the form of novels, which are remarkable for a peculiar combination of imagination, tenderness, quaint humor, philosophic spirit, and curious learning. He is an extremely popular writer among his (wn countrymen, but much of the flavor of his writings evaporates in a translation. His personal character was generous and amiable. He is frequently called by his first two names, Jeun Paul.] 1. Ir was New-Year's night. An aged man was standing at a window. He raised his mournful eyes towards the deep-blue sky, where the stars were floating, like white lilies, on the surface of a clear, calm lake. Then he cast them on the earth, where few more hopeless beings than himself now moved towards their certain goal1— the tomb. 2 2. Already he had passed sixty of the stages which lead to it, and he had brought from his journey nothing but errors and remorse. His health was destroyed, his mind vacant, his heart sorrowful, and his old age devoid of comfort. 3. The days of his youth rose up in a vision3 before him, and he recalled the solemn moment when his father had placed him at the entrance of two roads, one leading into a peaceful, sunny land, covered with a fertile harvest, and resounding with soft, sweet songs; the other leading the wanderer into a deep, dark cave, whence there was no issue, where poison flowed instead of water, and where serpents hissed and crawled. 4. He looked towards the sky, and cried out in his agony, "O youth, return! O my father, place me once more at the entrance to life, that I may choose the better way!" But his father and the days of his youth had both passed away. 5 5. He saw wandering lights floating away over dark marshes, and then disappear. These were the days of his wasted life. He saw a star fall from heaven, and vanish in darkness. This was an emblem of himself; and the sharp arrows of unavailing remorse struck home to his heart. Then he remembered his early companions, who entered on life with him, but who, having trod the paths of virtue and of labor, were now honored and happy on this NewYear's night. 6. The clock, in the high church tower, struck, and the sound, falling on his ear, recalled his parents' early love for him, their erring son; the lessons they had taught him; the prayers they had offered up in his behalf. Overwhelmed with shame and grief, he dared no longer look towards that heaven where his father dwelt; his darkened eyes dropped tears, and with one despairing effort, he cried aloud, "Come back, my early days! come back!" 7. And his youth did return; for all this was but a dream which visited his slumbers on New-Year's night. He was still young; his faults alone were real. He thanked God fervently that time was still his own; that he had not yet entered the deep, dark cavern, but that he was free to tread the road leading to the peaceful land where sunny harvests wave. 8. Ye who still linger on the threshold of life, doubting which path to choose, remember that, when years are passed, and your feet stumble on the dark mountain, you |