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This silent thinking, or the process of relation and discovery, is of fundamental importance in Vocal Expression. The silence: must speak. A pause is not vacuity,—an interval is a pause: because it is full of thought. The author's thought or feeling can only be suggested; the words must bear a sympathetic relation to the deep continuity of ideas in the soul, by the significance of silence.*

Problem XIII. Read some passage, taking time to realize intensively each successive idea before giving it expression, and so vary the pitch and other modulations of the voice as to show that the period of silence was necessary on account of this mental activity.

63 SPEECH is but broken light upon the depth

Of the unspoken; even your loved words
Float in the larger meaning of your voice
As something dimmer.

George Eliot.

64 PRAISE always surprises and humbles true genius; the shadow of earth comes then between them and their starry ideal with a cold and dark eclipse.

"Conversations."

65. PADRE PUGNACCIO.

Lowell.

Up the steps of the dome of Saint Peter's, between two penitents wrapped in mantillas, his head out of his hood, walked Padre Pugnaccio. The bells were quarrelling in the clouds.

One of the penitents, the aunt, counted an Ave for each bead of her rosary; and the other, the niece, ogled from the corner of her eyes a handsome officer of the Pope's guard. The monk muttered to the old woman, "Make a donation to my convent;" and the officer slipped a perfumed note into the young girl's hand.

The sinner wiped a few tears from her eyes; the maiden blushed with pleasure; the monk was calculating the interest of a thousand piastres at twelve per cent; and the officer was gazing at himself in a hand-mirror, and curling the tips of his mustachios.

And the devil, squatting in the loose sleeve of Padre Pugnaccio, chuc kled like Pulcinello. Louis Bertrand.

*See Classics, pp. 17, 41, 172, 361.

66 THE hills,

Rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun; the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The venerable woods; rivers that move

In majesty, and the complaining brooks,

That make the meadows green; and, poured round all,
Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, -

Are but the solemn decorations all

Of the great tomb of man!

67. THE HYMN ON THE NATIVITY.

Bryant.

Ir was the winter wild, while the heaven-born Child, all meanly wrapt, in the rude manger lies; nature in awe to him had doff'd her gaudy trim, with her great Master so to sympathize: it was no season then for her to wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. No war, or battle's sound was heard the world around: the idle spear and shield were high up hung; the hooked chariot stood unstained with hostile blood; the trumpet spake not to the armed throng; and kings sat still with awful eye, as if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. But peaceful was the night wherein the Prince of Light his reign of peace upon the earth began: the winds, with wonder whist, smoothly the waters kist, whispering new joys to the wild ocean who now hath quite forgot to rave, while birds of calm sit brooding on the charméd wave. The stars, with deep amaze, stand fix'd in steadfast gaze, bending one way their precious influence; and will not take their flight for all the morning light, or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence; but in their glimmering orbs did glow until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. The shepherds, on the lawn, or ere the point of dawn, sate simply chatting in a rustic row; full little thought they then that the mighty Pan was kindly come to live with them below; perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. When such music sweet their hearts and ears did greet as never was by mortal finger strookdivinely-warbled voice answering the stringéd noise, as all their souls in blissful rapture took: the air, such pleasure loth to lose, with thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close. Ring out, ye crystal spheres! once bless our human ears, if ye have power to touch our senses so; and let your silver chime move in melodious time; and let the base of heaven's deep organ blow; and with your ninefold harmony make up full concert to angelic symphony!

Milton.

68 AND how did Garrick speak the soliloquy last night? Oh, against all rule, my lord, most ungrammatically! betwixt the substantive and the adjective, which should agree together in number, case, and gender, he made a breach thus, -stopping as if the point wanted settling;—and betwixt the nominative case, which your lordship knows should govern the verb, he suspended his voice in the epilogue a dozen times, three seconds and three-fifths by a stop watch, my lord, each time. But in suspending his voice, was the sense suspended likewise? did no expression of attitude or countenance fill up the chasm?-Was the eye silent? Did you narrowly look?—I look'd only at the stop-watch, my lord.

And did you step in to take a look at the grand picture on your way back? 'Tis a melancholy daub! my lord; not one principle of the pyramid in any one group!-and what a price! -for there is nothing of the colouring of Titian-the expression of Rubens-the grace of Raphael-the purity of Dominichino -the corregiescity of Corregiothe learning of Poussin - the airs of Guido or the grand contour of Angelo.

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Grant me patience, just Heaven! Of all the cants which are canted in this canting world, — though the cant of hypocrisy may be the worst, -the cant of criticism is the most tormenting!

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I would go fifty miles, on foot, to kiss the hand of that man, whose generous heart will give up the reins of his imagination into his author's hands-be pleased he knows not why, and cares not wherefore.

Laurence Sterne.

IX. EDUCATION OF THE EYE.

69 NOTHING small! no lily-muffled hum of a summer-bee, but finds some coupling with the shining stars; no pebble at your feet but proves a sphere; no chaffinch, but implies the cherubim. Earth's crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God.

THERE

Mrs. Browning.

HERE are two distinct forms of reading: silent or receptive reading, and expressive reading, or reading aloud. Silent or receptive reading implies merely the act of receiving ideas, or of taking ideas from a printed page by the reader; no other mind is concerned. To read aloud is to convey an impression, or a possession which is in the reader's mind, to the mind of another. The development of expression and reading implies

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both of these acts; for reading aloud implies receptive reading. There can be no expression without impression.

On the other hand, the two must not be confused. What a violation it is of all the principles so far discovered and discussed, to have a child merely pronounce words as a means of training him to read aloud, while his mental action is almost entirely ignored! Of course, pronounciation must receive attention, but is it well to do this as a part of reading aloud? Does it nɔt belong to spelling, or to conversation? Can it not be done better while talking? Should a child be taught to pronounce words before he understands their meaning? In fact, one of the chief requisites for both receptive and expressive reading must be familiarity with words. There can be no reading for the reception of ideas, unless the words are more or less familiar; and to give expression to the same ideas, there is needed a much greater familiarity with words.

Reading, or the reception of ideas, must always be trained before there can be any expressive reading. The reception of ideas must precede the expression of ideas; hence we can see that, preceding all expressive reading, some disciplining of the eye is necessary. That is to say, the eye must be trained to grasp a group of words, of words, the mind to conceive the idea beneath them. Of course, it is not so much a training of the eye, as it is of the mind through the eye; but the organ and the agency concerned are most intimately connected. The development of the power of the eye, to perceive ideas through words quickly, must be developed through silent reading.

The action of the eye in silent reading is not the same as in reading aloud; the eye in silent reading merely catches the meaning beneath the words, and is thus more or less continuous; the eye in reading aloud takes a group of words, and then becomes quiescent as the mind conceives the idea, and while these are spoken; - then grasps another group, and so on. The eye may do this in silent reading, but this rhythmic succession is

more accentuated in reading aloud. The child must first take a group of words, then speak them so as to give the meaning; take another group of words, and express the meaning of that. There is a great temptation to call words singly, and not by groups, according to the rhythmic pulsations of the thought.

The education of the eye is most important. Daniel Webster laid his manuscript before him, and then endeavored to catch enough by his eye to speak while he walked several steps. In this way he trained his eye to catch successive groups of words, so that when he spoke he could give his eye to his audience. He was thus enabled to speak his words as if they were extemThis poraneous, he was never confined to his manuscript. should be true of all good reading. The student must be trained to take a group of words with his eye, while the mind conceives the idea beneath them, and its relation to the thought, and then to speak the words. The mind must act between the eye the expression.

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Accordingly, reading aloud is slower than silent reading, because of this additional process which takes place during pauses. The mental action is only receptive in silent reading, but in reading aloud there is also an endeavor to make salient the fundamental points in the current of ideas, so as to make them clear to other minds. We must, therefore, train the mind and the eye to act together, so that the mind, the eye, and the voice, will act in proper order. The eye must see like a flash, while the mind creates the pictures, and then the voice can speak.

One great temptation is to read in a continuous stream, because the eye sees so many words at once. We all tend merely to pronounce the words, and to let the mind follow after both the eye and the voice. We think a thought after speech simultaneously with the person who listens to us, and not before we speak. We tend to think as the result of pronounciation, and not as the cause of speech. The great difficulty in reading aloud is in looking and thinking before we speak.

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