The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ontario High School Reader, by A.E. Marty This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Ontario High School Reader Author: A.E. Marty Release Date: September 28, 2007 [EBook #22795] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ONTARIO HIGH SCHOOL READER *** Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Turgut Dincer and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) THE ONTARIO HIGH SCHOOL READER BY A. E. MARTY, M.A. COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE, OTTAWA Printer's mark. AUTHORIZED BY THE MINISTER OF EDUCATION FOR ONTARIO FOR USE IN CONTINUATION AND HIGH SCHOOLS AND COLLEGIATE INSTITUTES THE CANADA PUBLISHING COMPANY, LIMITED TORONTO Copyright, Canada, 1911, by The Canada Publishing Company, Limited. PREFACE After communication with many of the teachers who have been using the Principles and Practice of Oral Reading in their classes, the author has made a number of important additions and changes. In its amended form the book is published under the title of the "Ontario High School Reader." As the book is intended for the teaching of oral reading it contains an introductory chapter on the Principles of Reading, and selections for practice, with appended notes. An effort has also been made to grade the selections in the order of their difficulty. Accordingly, a number of selections, each illustrating in a marked degree only one, or at most two, of the various elements of Vocal Expression, have been placed at the beginning; these should, of course, be taught before the more complex selections are attempted. It is not intended that the pupil shall master the chapter on the principles before beginning to read the selections; he should become familiar with each topic as it is illustrated in the lesson. In dealing with each lesson the teacher should first ascertain the elements of vocal expression that it best exemplifies. He should then discuss these elements with the pupils, using the necessary paragraphs of the Introduction, and such black-board exercises as he may deem necessary, until he is satisfied that the pupils are ready to undertake the study of the selection. At the oral reading the pupils should be able to show their mastery of the principles thus taught. Toward the close of the course, they will naturally read connectedly the various sections of the Introduction, in order to obtain a comprehensive and systematic view of the principles. To secure good reading, systematic drill on the exercises in Vowel Sounds and in Articulation is also necessary. TABLE OF CONTENTS Principles of Reading 1-35 Importance of Oral Reading 1 Mechanical Side of Oral Reading 2 Correct Pronunciation, Distinct Articulation. Expression 3 Concrete Thinking, Abstract Thinking, Emotion. Elements of Vocal Expression 7 Pause, Grouping, Time, Inflection, Pitch, Force, Stress, Emphasis, Shading, Perspective, Quality. Selections 36-305 The Banner of St. George Shapcott Wensley 36 Jean Valjean and the Bishop Victor Hugo 38 The Well of St. Keyne Robert Southey 43 Faith, Hope and Charity Bible 46 The Legend Beautiful Henry W. Longfellow 47 The Vicar's Family Use Art Oliver Goldsmith 52 The Soldier's Dream Oliver Goldsmith 58 Van Elsen Frederick George Scott 60 Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Sir Walter Scott 61 The Day is Done Henry W. Longfellow 63 The Schoolmaster and the Boys Charles Dickens 65 The Knights' Chorus Alfred, Lord Tennyson 70 The Northern Star Unknown 71 The Indigo Bird Ethelwyn Wetherald 72 The Pasture Field Ethelwyn Wetherald 73 Shipwrecked Robert Louis Stevenson 75 On His Blindness John Milton 80 Briggs in Luck William M. Thackeray 81 The Laughing Sally Charles G. D. Roberts 84 The Prodigal Son Bible 88 Christmas at Sea Robert Louis Stevenson 90 The Evening Wind William Cullen Bryant 93 Paradise and the Peri Thomas Moore 95 The Lady of Shalott Alfred, Lord Tennyson 100 Home they brought her Warrior dead Alfred, Lord Tennyson 107 The Sky John Ruskin 108 The Return of the Swallows Edmund W. Gosse 111 Barbara Frietchie John Greenleaf Whittier 113 Bless the Lord, O My Soul Bible 116 The Eternal Goodness John Greenleaf Whittier 118 The King of Glory Bible 119 The Four-Horse Race "Ralph Connor" 121 Mrs. Malaprop's Views Richard B. Sheridan 126 The Glove and the Lions Leigh Hunt 131 The Fickleness of a Roman Mob William Shakespeare 133 Sir Peter and Lady Teazle Richard B. Sheridan 136 The Parting of Marmion and Douglas Sir Walter Scott 140 Columbus Joaquin Miller 143 From the "Apology" of Socrates Benjamin Jowett 145 Highland Hospitality Sir Walter Scott 151 The Outlaw Sir Walter Scott 154 Of Studies Francis, Lord Bacon 157 The Influence of Athens Thomas Babington, Lord Macaulay 159 National Morality John Bright 161 Hamlet's Advice to the Players William Shakespeare 164 Rosabelle Sir Walter Scott 166 The Island of the Scots William E. Aytoun 168 Cranford Society Mrs. Gaskell 178 Sir Galahad Alfred, Lord Tennyson 182 Song for Saint Cecilia's Day John Dryden 186 The Day was Lingering Charles Heavysege 189 On First Looking into Chapman's Homer John Keats 189 Great Things Were Ne'er Begotten in an Hour Sir Daniel Wilson 190 A Wood Lyric William Wilfred Campbell 191 To Night Percy Bysshe Shelley 193 The Opening Scene at the Trial of Warren Hastings Thomas Babington, Lord Macaulay 194 Peroration of Opening Speech against Warren Hastings Edmund Burke 201 The Song My Paddle Sings E. Pauline Johnson 203 The Defence of the Bridge Thomas Babington, Lord Macaulay 206 On the Death of King Edward VII Sir Herbert Henry Asquith 217 The Heroes of Magersfontein The London Daily News 221 Funeral of Julius Cæsar William Shakespeare 225 The Revenge Alfred, Lord Tennyson 234 Hervé Riel Robert Browning 241 The Handwriting on the Wall Bible 248 Paul's Defence before King Agrippa Bible 251 The Stranded Ship Charles G. D. Roberts 254 Sir Patrick Spens Old Ballad 258 King John and the Abbot of Canterbury Old Ballad 262 The Key to Human Happiness George Eliot 266 The Vision of Sir Launfal James Russell Lowell 271 On the Death of Gladstone Sir Wilfrid Laurier 278 The Downfall of Wolsey William Shakespeare 286 The Italian in England Robert Browning 290 Advantages of Imperial Federation George Monro Grant 296 Collect for Dominion Day Charles G. D. Roberts 305 Appendix A. Exercises in Vocalization and Articulation 306 B. Physical Exercises 312 C. List of Reference Books 314 PRINCIPLES OF READING Importance of Oral Reading There are several reasons why every boy or girl should strive to become a good reader. In the first place, good oral reading is an accomplishment in itself. It affords a great deal of pleasure to others as well as to ourselves. In the second place, it improves our everyday speech and is also a preparation for public speaking; for the one who reads with distinctness and an accent of refinement is likely to speak in the same way, whether in private conversation or on the public platform. Moreover, it is only one step from reading aloud before the class to recitation, and another step from recitation to public speaking. Lastly, oral reading is the best method of bringing out and conveying to others and to oneself all that a piece of literature expresses. For example, the voice is needed to bring out the musical effects of poetry. The following lines will illustrate this point: But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. Here the music of the rhythm and the harmony between sound and sense would be almost entirely lost in silent reading. The voice, too, is often the surest and most effective means of conveying differences of meaning and feeling in both prose and poetry. The following words from Hervé Riel (pp. 241-247) may be made to convey different meanings according to the intonation of the voice: Burn the fleet and ruin France? This may be read to express hesitation and deliberation, or, as is the evident intention, shewn by the context as well as by the punctuation, to express Hervé Riel's surprise and indignation that such a thought should be entertained. Mechanical Side of Oral Reading Now in what does oral reading consist? It consists, first of all, in recognizing the words, pronouncing them correctly, and articulating them distinctly. The pupil in the First Book, who is learning to read, is trying to master this side of reading, which is the mechanical side. He cannot be too careful as to the habits of speech he forms; for correct position of the organs of speech and proper control of the breath make for correct pronunciation and distinct articulation, which are two of the foundation stones of good reading. By correct pronunciation, we mean the pronunciation approved by a standard dictionary. Elegance and refinement of speech depend largely on the correct pronunciation of the vowel sounds. The vowel a, which is sounded in seven different ways in the English language, presents the greatest difficulty. Many people recognize at most, only the sound of a in at, ate, all, far, and mortal respectively. They ignore the sound as in air, and the shorter quantity of the Italian a in ask, giving the sound of a in ate to the former and of a in at or a in all or a in far to the latter. Another difficulty is that of distinguishing the sound of oo in roof, food, etc., from the sound of oo in book and good, and from the sound of u in such words as pure and duke. Pronunciation, when perfectly pure, should be free from what we call provincialisms; that is, from any peculiarity of tone, accent, or vowel sound, which would mark the speaker as coming from any particular locality. If our pronunciation is perfectly pure, it does not indicate, in the slightest degree, the part of the country in which we have lived. Distinct articulation requires that each syllable should receive its full value, and that the end of a word should be enunciated as distinctly as the beginning. It depends largely on the way in which we utter the consonants, just as correct pronunciation depends on the enunciation of the vowels. Final consonants are easily slurred, especially in the case of words ending in two or more consonants, which present special difficulties of articulation. Such words are mends, seethes, thirsteth, breathed, etc. Sometimes, too, the careless reader fails to articulate two consonants separately when the first word ends with the consonant or consonant sound with which the second begins; for example, Sir Richard Grenville lay, Spanish ships; or when the first word ends with a consonant and the second begins with a vowel, as in eats apples, not at all, an ox, etc. On the other hand, too evident an effort to secure the proper enunciation of the sound elements should be avoided, since a stilted mode of utterance is thus produced. Exercises for drill in the vowel sounds and in articulation are provided in Appendix A. [Pg 1] [Pg 2] [Pg 3] Expression Oral reading, however, even in its earliest stages, consists in more than recognizing words, pronouncing them correctly, and articulating them distinctly. It includes thinking thoughts, seeing mental pictures, (which is only another form of thinking) and feeling varied emotions—all while the mechanical act of reading is going on. To illustrate, let us take a line from The Island of the Scots: High flew the spray above their heads, yet onward still they bore. If we wish to read this line well, what must we do besides pronouncing the words correctly and articulating them distinctly? We must think about the meaning of what we read. This includes two kinds of thinking. In the example we first think the picture presented by the words; that is, we make a mental image of the little band of Scots, hand in hand, trying to ford the swiftly flowing waters of the swollen river. This is called concrete thinking. At the same time we form some judgment based on the picture. We think of the great determination and courage these men showed in struggling forward in spite of the danger. This is called abstract thinking. But, as we have said, a reader does more than think in these two ways—he feels; and feeling, or emotion, comes of itself, if the reader thinks in the two ways described, for emotion is the result of thinking. Especially is it the result of concrete thinking; for what we see, even if only with the mind's eye, stirs our emotions more than that of which we think in the abstract. While reading the line just quoted, there are three emotions which spring from the thinking. As we see these men struggling against the strong current we have an emotion of fear for them; then as we think of their determination and courage in the face of such great danger, an emotion of determination comes to us, for we identify ourselves with their fortunes; and lastly we are filled with admiration for their heroism. Thus we experience the three emotions of fear, determination, and admiration, while performing the mechanical act of reading the words. These emotions, together with the two kinds of thinking mentioned, affect the voice and the manner of reading, and determine what we call expression. If the words were simply repeated mechanically there would be no expression. Since expression involves the employment of so many different powers at one time, a mastery of the art of expression is much harder to acquire, than a mastery of merely the mechanical side of reading. Accordingly, good vocal expression springs primarily from something within ourselves—that is, from our mental and emotional state. It cannot be acquired by mechanical imitation, whether of the reading of another, or of the movements, sounds, and gestures indicated in the subject matter of what we read. Nevertheless it is very stimulating to hear a selection well read, not because a model is thus supplied for our imitation, but because we get a grasp of the selection as a whole, and because the voice, which possesses great power in stirring the imagination and the feelings, thus prepares within us the mental and emotional state necessary for the correct expression. In the same way, imitation of the movements, sounds, and gestures, suggested by the subject matter may be a stimulus to thought and feeling when preparing a selection, since what we have actually reproduced is more real to us than what we have only imagined. After such preparation, imitation, if it enters into the reading at all, will be spontaneous, and not intentional and forced. In reading The Charge of the Light Brigade or The Ride from Ghent to Aix, we do not designedly hurry along to imitate rapidity of movement; but, rather, the imagination having been kindled by the picture, our pulse is quickened, and the voice moves rapidly in sympathy with the feelings aroused. In the following extract (p. 216) the atmosphere is one of joy. The reader is moved through sympathy with Horatius, and his voice indicates the joy of the Romans, but he does not attempt to imitate vocally, or by gesture, the "shouts," "clapping," and "weeping": Now round him throng the Fathers To press his gory hands; And now, with shouts and clapping, He enters through the River-Gate, Borne by the joyous crowd. Sometimes, as already stated, we imitate spontaneously: Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back: And, as they passed, beneath their feet They felt the timbers crack. Here we imitate spontaneously the movement expressive of sudden fear. Our action is prompted by our own fears for their safety. Sometimes the feeling is still more complex. In reading the following we spontaneously reproduce Sextus' alternate hate and fear which, moreover, we tinge with our own contempt: Thrice looked he at the city; Thrice looked he at the dead; And thrice came on in fury, [Pg 4] [Pg 5] [Pg 6] And thrice turned back in dread: And, white with fear and hatred, Scowled at the narrow way Where, wallowing in a pool of blood, The bravest Tuscans lay. In reading the little poem from The Princess, (page 107) note how we are influenced by the tense emotion of the attendants who speak. We do not try to imitate them; but having made the scene stand out before us, we speak as we in imagination hear them, in an aspirated tone of voice: She must weep or she will die. In the last line it would savour of melodrama to try to impersonate the lady as she says: Sweet my child, I live for thee. The important point is to show intelligent sympathy with her speech, not to imitate her manner of uttering it. On the other hand we must not make the mistake of supposing that if we get the thought and the emotion, the true vocal expression will follow. One who has a fine appreciation of a piece of literature may, notwithstanding, read it very indifferently. Even in conversation where we are interpreting vocally our own thoughts and feelings, we sometimes misplace emphasis or employ the wrong inflection. How much more likely we are to fall into such errors when we attempt to interpret vocally from a book the thoughts of another. Elements of Vocal Expression In order to criticise ourselves or understand intelligent criticism, we must have a knowledge of the laws that govern speech—that is, we must know what properties of tone or what acts of the voice correspond to certain mental and emotional states. For example, the amount and character of thinking done while we read determines the rate of utterance; the purpose or motive of the thought and its completeness or incompleteness are indicated by an upward or downward slide of the voice; the nervous tension expresses itself in a certain key; the physical and mental energy, in a certain power or volume of the voice; and the character of the emotion is reflected in the quality. These principles of vocal expression are known technically as the elements of time, inflection, pitch, force, and quality. Closely connected with these elements are pause, grouping, stress, emphasis, shading, and perspective. Pause. It must be quite clear that when we are reading silently, for the purpose of getting the thought for ourselves, our minds are at work as has been described. We shall now examine how this work done by the mind affects the voice and produces what we call good expression when we are reading aloud for the purpose of conveying thought to others. As an illustration we shall take an example from The Glove and the Lions: 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. In these lines there are certain words or phrases which stand out prominently, since they call up mental pictures, namely: "nobles," "benches round," "Count de Lorge," and "one." In order to give time to make these mental pictures, we naturally pause after each one. At the end of the first line we combine the details, making a larger mental image, with the result that we make a long pause after "side." In reading the second line, the eye and the mind run ahead of the voice, and the reader, wishing to impress the listener with the new and important idea "Count de Lorge," pauses before it as well as after it. In the same way he pauses before the phrase, "he hoped to make his bride," to prepare the mind of the listener to receive the impression. Thus we see that, if the mind is working, a pause occurs after a word while we are making a mental image or trying to realize the idea more fully, and also often before we express an important idea, in order to prepare the mind of the listener for what is to come. A very useful exercise in the study of pause is to image the pictures in selections such as the following: Come from deep glen (picture) and From mountain so rocky; (picture) The war pipe and pennon (picture) Are at Inverlocky. Come every hill-plaid, and True heart that wears one; (picture) Come every steel blade, (picture) and Strong hand that bears one. (picture) Leave untended the herd, (picture) The flock without shelter; (picture) Leave the corpse uninterred, (picture) The bride at the altar; (picture) Leave the deer, (picture) leave the steer, (picture) [Pg 7] [Pg 8] Leave nets and barges: (picture) Come with your fighting gear, Broadswords and targes, (picture) Then, too, in passing from one idea or thought to another, the mind requires time to make the transition: Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus Into the stream beneath: Herminius struck at Seius, And clove him to the teeth: At Picus brave Horatius Darted one fiery thrust; And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms Clashed in the bloody dust. Here the mind passes in succession from the action of Lartius to that of Herminius and that of Horatius. A long pause is required after "beneath," "teeth," and "dust," with a shorter pause after "Seius" and after "thrust." Further, if the thoughts concern actions far apart, more time is required to make the transition, and hence a longer pause: All day long that free flag toss'd 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. Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, And the Rebel rides on his raids no more. Note the transition in thought from the day on which these stirring events are supposed to have taken place to the present time. This is indicated by a long pause after "warm good-night." Sometimes the mind requires time to fill in ideas suggested but not expressed: Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind: the sun Of noon look'd down and saw not one. Here, the tearing down of the flags between the morning and noon, is suggested to the mind; hence a long pause after "wind." Where an ellipsis occurs and the meaning is not obvious, there is a pause to give time to realize the logical connection: I'd rather rove with Edmund there Than reign our English queen. Here's the English can and will! Note the pauses after "reign," and "English" (second example). In such examples as the following where the meaning is obvious, the pauses after "them," "one," "weary," and "wounded," make prominent the important idea following: And 'mongst them Count de Lorge, with one he hoped to make his bride. The weary to sleep and the wounded to die. When preparing to read a selection, it is of great importance to make the leading thoughts stand out clearly in the mind so that we may be able to present them one by one. The poem Barbara Frietchie (p. 113.) could be divided into paragraphs with some such titles as the following: (1) the town of Frederick and its surroundings, (2) the approach of the army, (3) the tearing down of the flags, (4) the raising of Barbara Frietchie's flag, (5) Stonewall Jackson and his men, and so on. Each of the paragraphs is a complete section of the poem, and requires a well-marked pause before passing on to the next one. Grouping. In the extract from The Glove and the Lions, used above to illustrate pause, the mental pictures and important ideas are suggested in nearly every ease by a single word. Ideas are, however, suggested as often by groups of words as by single words. These groups are treated as single words, and may take pauses before or after them as [Pg 9] [Pg 10] [Pg 11] the case may be. The reader, who is thinking as he reads, will group together words that express one idea, or symbolize one picture, presenting these ideas and pictures to himself and to the listener one by one, and separating by a pause, of greater or less length, those not closely connected. A slouched leather cap|| half hid his face| bronzed by the sun and wind| and dripping with sweat.|| He wore a cravat twisted like a rope|| coarse blue trousers| worn and shabby| white on one knee| and with holes in the other;|| an old ragged gray blouse| patched on one side with a piece of green cloth| sewed with twine;|| upon his back| was a well-filled knapsack,|| in his hand| he carried an enormous knotted stick;|| his stockingless feet| were in hobnailed shoes;|| his hair was cropped|| and his beard long. Here the double vertical lines mark off groups of words which express one idea or symbolize one picture, and which are therefore each separated from the other by a well-marked pause. The single vertical lines indicate a shorter pause between the subdivisions of each group. The phrase "an old ragged gray blouse patched on one side with a piece of green cloth sewed with twine" presents one picture by itself, and is separated from the context by a long pause, but each detail in this picture is presented in turn to the mind's eye, hence the shorter pauses after "blouse," "cloth," and "twine." The reader should be careful not to allow pause and grouping to produce a jerky effect, thus interfering with the rhythm. This applies especially to poetry, which demands, in order to preserve the rhythm, that the caesural pause should not be slighted, and that there should be a more or less marked pause at the end of each line: And they had trod the Pass once more, and stoop'd on either side To pluck the heather from the spot where he had dropped and died. In the second line, the caesural pause occurs after "spot," but the phrase "from the spot where he had dropped and died" expresses one idea and must be given as a whole. The rhythm and the grouping appear to be at variance; but the difficulty is easily overcome by making the caesural pause shorter than the pause after "heather" which introduces the group, and at the same time, by not allowing the voice to fall on the word "spot." The following affords another instance where the grouping appears to interfere with the rhythm: If the husband of this gifted well Shall drink before his wife, A happy man thenceforth is he, For he shall be master for life. "Of this gifted well" is evidently not connected in thought with "husband." It must be separated from "husband" by a pause and attached to "shall drink" at the beginning of the next line. To do this, it is not, however, necessary to omit the pause at the end of the line; for this would mar the effect of the rhythm. The difficulty is again overcome by making the pause at the end of the line shorter than the pauses which mark the grouping, and by not allowing the voice to fall on "well." Time is the rate at which we read. It is fast or slow according to the number and the length of the pauses between words and phrases, and also according to the length of time the reader dwells on the words themselves. There is perhaps no more frequent criticism made on reading than that it is too fast. What does this mean? It means that the reader is not doing enough thinking as he repeats the words. Consequently, he does not dwell on words that are full of meaning, nor pause before and after words and phrases to make the mental picture and to grasp the thought more fully. Moreover, for the benefit of the listener, the reading should be slower than is required by the reader for himself. The reader, with his eye on the page, can allow his eye and mind to run ahead of his voice, and can thus realize the thought in less time than the listener. The following line calls for a comparatively small amount of thinking: High flew the spray above their heads, yet onward still they bore. Here, there is little except what is on the surface, and the thoughts suggested by the words are of the kind to make the mind think rapidly. Hence the line is read in faster time than the average rate. Reading may, accordingly, be fast from one or both of two causes. First, when there is no background of thought for the mind to dwell upon, and second when the nature of the thoughts themselves, such as the narration of the rapid succession of events, impels to quick mental action. The following lines from Pibroch of Donuil Dhu (p. 61) will serve as an illustration: Faster come, faster come, Faster and faster, Chief, vassal, page and groom, Tenant and master. Fast they come, fast they come; See how they gather! etc. So, too, reading may be slow from the exact opposite of these two reasons. First, when there is a great back-ground of thought suggested by the words, and second, when the reflective and meditative nature of the thought leads to slow action on the part of the mind. In some selections both of these conditions are present; in others only one of them. In The Day is Done (p. 63) there is little thought below the surface; but the reading is slow because the quiet, meditative [Pg 11] [Pg 12] [Pg 13] nature of the thought tends to slow mental action: And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. Both conditions, however, exist in the lines from Barbara Frietchie which describe the effect produced on Stonewall Jackson by Barbara Frietchie's heroic action and daring speech: A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came. A great many thoughts are suggested by these two lines. The heart of the gallant Southerner is touched at the sight of this weak, decrepit old woman with the courage and boldness of youth, ready to die for her principles. His stern features relax and a look of sadness passes over his face. The taunting words "spare your country's flag" have struck home. The tragic side of civil war is forced upon him—father fighting against son, and brother against brother, the sons of freedom firing at their own star-spangled banner. The sorrow and the shame of it all rise before him, and the crimson flush mounts to his brow. With this undercurrent of thought in the mind, it is impossible to read rapidly. Besides, the reflective nature of the thoughts themselves tends to make one repeat the words slowly. Sometimes, again, reading is faster than the moderate rate because of the unimportance of the events or facts: He spoke of the grass, the flowers and the trees, Of the singing birds and the humming bees; Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether The cloud in the west would bring foul weather. Note the lightness with which the unimportant details of conversation are skimmed over. Inflection. If we listen to the speech of the people around us, we can easily detect an upward slide of the voice on some words, a downward slide on others, and on others again a combination of the two. This slide of the voice on words—generally on the accented syllable of an emphatic word—is called inflection, and the various inflections are known as rising (/), falling (\), rising circumflex (\/), and falling circumflex (/\). Each inflection has a definite and fixed meaning recognized by every one, and it is because of the laws of inflection that we can tell what meaning a speaker intends to convey when he uses certain words; for often the same words may carry two or three different meanings according to the inflection. The simple word "Yes," with an abrupt downward slide, expresses decided affirmation. When spoken with an upward slide, it expresses interrogation and is equivalent to "Is that really so?" When it has a combination of the downward and upward slide or a rising circumflex inflection, the meaning is no longer simple but complex. There is an assertion combined with doubt. It is equivalent to saying: "I think so but I am not really sure." In such a sentence as: "Do not say 'yes,'" where the idea "but say 'no,'" is merely implied, but not formally expressed, the word "yes" has a combination of the upward and downward slide or a falling circumflex inflection. If we take an idea for its own sake, if it is independent and complete in itself, the voice has the downward slide or falling inflection on the words which stand for the central idea: My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure. The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, The hard brands shiver on the steel, The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly, The horse and rider reel. Each statement is complete in itself and has the falling inflection. Sometimes there is a slight downward slide before the statement is completed, because the mind feels that the ideas already expressed are of sufficient force to give them the value of completeness: My strength is as the strength of tèn, Because my heart is pure. And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and còld, And the pikes were all broken or bènt, and the powder was all of it spènt; And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side. [Pg 14] [Pg 15] [Pg 16] Note the momentary completeness on "ten," "cold," "bent," and "spent," requiring the falling inflection. If on the other hand an idea is incomplete, either pointing forward to some other idea or being subordinate, the voice has the upward slide or rising inflection. The rising inflection, like the falling, may be long or short, more or less abrupt, according to the importance of the thought: Shé, with all a monarch's príde, Felt them in her bosom glow. "She" points forward to the predicate "felt" and because of the importance of the idea it takes a long rising inflection; "with all a monarch's pride" being subordinate and incomplete also requires the voice to be kept up, but takes a shorter rising inflection. It is of the greatest importance to know the exact purpose of the thought, so that the voice may, of itself, give the corresponding inflection: And you may gather garlánds thére Would grace a summer quèen. The sense is evidently not complete in the first line, the intention being to emphasize the beauty of the garlands to be gathered, and not merely to state that they may be gathered there. When the reader understands the exact meaning he will convey it by keeping the rising inflection on "garlands." Similar to the foregoing is the following: There is not a wífe in the wést cóuntry But has heard of the Wèll of St. Kèyne. The sense is not complete until we read the second line. The rising inflection on "country" indicates this and connects the first line with the second, bringing out the meaning, that every wife in the west country has heard of the Well of St. Keyne. Sometimes we have a series of rising inflections, all pointing forward to the leading statement which is to follow and which is necessary to complete the sense, for example: Of man's first disobédience and the frúit Of that forbidden trée, whose mortal táste Brought déath into the wórld, and all our wóe, With loss of Éden, till one greater mán Restóre us, and regáin the blissful séat, Sing, heàvenly Mùse. Incompleteness may be suggested by a negative statement or its equivalent: Nót from the grand old másters, Nót from the bárds sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. I do not know what I was pláying, Or what I was dréaming thén, But I struck one chord of music Like the sound of a great Amen. Note the rising inflection on these negative clauses. On the same principle the rising inflection is used on the negative statements of persuasive argument as in the Apology of Socrates (p. 145). 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. For neither in war nor yet at law ought any man to use every way of escaping death. Not so; the deficiency which led to my conviction was not of words—certainly not. Doubt and hesitation also imply incompleteness: He surely would do desperate things to show his love of me! King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the chance is wondrous fine; I'll drop my glove to prove his love; great glory will be mine! [Pg 17] [Pg 18] Note the rising inflection on the first two lines where the lady is still in doubt as to what shall be the test of De Lorge's love, and the falling inflection on the last one when she has reached a decision. Pleading and entreaty also convey a sense of incompleteness and take the rising inflection: Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. Good Sir Richard, tell us now, For to fight is but to die! A direct interrogation, that is, one that can be answered by "Yes" or "No", implies incompleteness in the mind of the questioner and requires a decided rising inflection: Is your name Shýlock? May you stéad me? Will you pléasure me? Shall I knów your ánswer? Questions that require an explanatory answer and cannot be answered by "Yes" or "No," do not convey an idea of incompleteness, being merely equivalent to the statement of a desire for certain information. Consequently they take the falling inflection: Flav. Speàk, whàt tràde art thòu? 1st Cit. Why, sir, a carpenter. Mar. Where is thy leather àpron, and thy rùle? What dost thou with thy best appàrel òn?— You, sir, whàt tràde are yoù? The purpose or motive of a question must be considered. We must know whether the question is asked for information, or whether its purpose is to give information; that is, whether it is only another way of making an assertion—what is sometimes called a question of appeal. When Shylock asks Portia: "Shall I not have barely my principal?" he does so with the direct purpose of learning his sentence. His question can be answered by "Yes" or "No" and the rising inflection is used. But when he asks: "On what compulsion must I?" he means simply to give the information that there is no power on earth to compel him. This is a complete thought, hence the falling inflection. Other examples are: Have you e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before? What conquest brings he home? What tributaries follow him to Rome, To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? The opposite inflections on antithetical words or phrases are also due to this law of completeness and incompleteness. The first part of the antithesis usually has the rising inflection marking incompleteness, and the second, the falling, marking completeness. Hís blast is heard at merry mórn, And mìne at dèad of nìght. For this thy brother was déad, and is àlive again; and was lóst, and is foùnd. Similarly, in a series of words or phrases parallel in construction, all have the rising inflection but the last: As Cæsar lóved me, I wéep for him; as he was fortúnate, I rejóice at it; as he was válíant, I hónour him; but as he was ambìtious, I slèw him! There is teárs for his lóve; jóy for his fórtune; hónour for his válour; and deàth for his ambìtion. Cráfty men contémn studies; símple men admíre them; and wìse men ùse them. If one part of the antithesis is a negation, it takes the rising inflection, whether it comes first or second. This is owing to the fact that, as illustrated above, a negation implies incompleteness. The other part then takes the falling inflection: Fall into the hands of Gòd, not into the hands of Spáin. I come to bùry Cæsar, not to práise him. I said an èlder soldier, not a bétter. Often only one part of the antithesis is expressed, the contrast being implied. In such a case, the voice brings out the [Pg 19] [Pg 20] [Pg 21] contrast by placing a combination of the two inflections of the regularly expressed antithesis on the one word which does duty for both parts: Cassius says: "I said an elder soldier, not a better" in reply to Brutus' speech—"You say you are a better soldier." The antithesis is fully expressed, and the voice places the falling inflection on "elder" and the rising inflection on "better." If Cassius had omitted the words "not a better," the very same meaning could have been conveyed by placing a combination of the rising and the falling inflection or a falling circumflex on the word "elder," thus—"I said an êlder soldier." In the next line he goes on to say "Did I say bĕtter?" Here, there is an implied contrast with "elder," which is expressed by a combination of the falling and the rising inflection or a rising circumflex. From these two examples, we can see that the law of completeness and incompleteness holds good with the compound or circumflex inflection, just as it does with the simple inflection, and determines whether the circumflex shall be rising or falling. A very common mistake in reading is to use the circumflex inflection in emphasizing a word, thus making a contrast where none is intended. "Ramped and roared the lions" with a falling circumflex inflection on "lions," instead of a simple falling inflection, suggests that the tigers or some other animals did not ramp and roar. For similar reasons, avoid the circumflex when emphasizing "hand" and "feet" in "put a ring on his hand and shoes on his feet." As has already been stated, it is necessary to know the motive behind the words. When Shylock says: "O wise and upright judge," his intention is evidently to bestow sincere praise. The reader, knowing this, instinctively gives a straight slide. Later, when Gratiano says: "O upright judge, O learned judge!" his intention is to taunt and hold up to ridicule; there is a double meaning conveyed, which finds its natural expression in a curved inflection. Compare the curved inflections in the cobbler's speeches in Act I. Scene I, of Julius Cæsar (p. 133) when he is fencing with Marullus, with the straight inflections of his final speech when he has thrown aside his raillery and speaks with sincerity: Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself in more work. But, indeèd, sir, we make hòliday to see Caèsar, and to rejoìce in his triùmph. One writer has said: "Where there is simple and genuine thought, deep and sincere feeling, wherever the eye is single, the inflections of the voice are straight; a crook in the mind however is indicated by a crook in the voice." Pitch is the key of the voice. A change of pitch is a leap from one key to another during silence. Inflection, as we have seen, is a gradual change in the key while the voice is speaking. The pitch or key depends upon the muscular tension of the vocal chords, which act like the strings of a musical instrument: the greater the tension, the higher the key. Muscular tension implies nervous tension and this is dependent upon the mental state. If the mind is calm, the nervous and muscular tension is normal, and the speaker uses the key habitual to him in his ordinary speech. If the mental state is one of excitement, the key is higher because of greater nervous and muscular tension. If, on the other hand, the mental state is one of depression, the key is lower because of relaxed muscular tension. In The Defence of the Bridge (p. 206) the Romans, seeing the danger of the heroes, are wrought up to a high state of nervous tension which finds its natural expression in the high-pitched voice: "Come back, come back Horatius!" Loud cried the Fathers all. "Back, Lartius! back Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall!" Contrast with this the lower key of Horatius, who is calm and self-controlled: "O Tiber! Father Tiber! To whom the Romans pray, A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, Take thou in charge this day!" Observe the gradual rise in pitch with the increase of tension or excitement in the following: And now he feels the bottom; Now on dry earth he stands; Now round him throng the Fathers To press his gory hands; And now, with shouts and clapping, And noise of weeping loud, He enters through the River-Gate, Borne by the joyous crowd. In the following lines, where the Douglas holds communion with himself, the tension is low chiefly because of his great [Pg 21] [Pg 22] [Pg 23] mental depression, and, consequently, he speaks in a low key: Yes! all is true my fears could frame; A prisoner lies the noble Graeme, And fiery Roderick soon will feel The vengeance of the royal steel. I, only I, can ward their fate,— God grant the ransom come not late. The abbess hath her promise given. My child shall be the bride of Heaven:— Be pardoned one repining tear! For he, who gave her, knows how dear, How excellent! but that is by, And now my business is—to die. The low pitch is also partly due to the fact that the Douglas is speaking to himself, and has no desire to communicate his thoughts to another; for the effort to communicate thought causes increased tension. Again, it requires greater effort to address a person who is at a distance than one close at hand, or to address a large audience than a small one. Observe the comparatively high pitch in which Antony (p. 225) begins his oration: Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him. If the reader wishes to give prominence to a thought, the effort put forth causes muscular tension, resulting in a higher pitch. On the other hand, a thought, which the reader regards as not of special importance to the listener, finds expression in lower pitch, more as if he were addressing himself: 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, Who ever recked, where, how, or when, The prowling fox was trapped or slain? Observe the lower pitch of the subordinate clauses in the first four lines, and the higher pitch in the last two lines which project the leading thought. "I think, boys," said the schoolmaster, when the clock struck twelve, "that I shall give an extra half-holiday this afternoon." Similarly, the narrative clause "said the schoolmaster" which interrupts the direct speech is read in lower pitch and is separated by a marked pause before and after. Parenthetical expressions, also for the same reason, are read in lower pitch. She had not perceived—how could she until she had lived longer?—the inmost truth of the old monk's outpourings, that renunciation remains sorrow, though a sorrow borne willingly. He (Mr. Pickwick) would not deny that he was influenced by human passions, and human feelings, (cheers) —possibly by human weaknesses—(loud cries of "No"); but this he would say, that if ever the fire of self- importance broke out in his bosom, the desire to benefit the human race in preference, effectually quenched it. Passages which are collateral or co-ordinate in construction, and equally balanced, will find their natural vocal expression in the same pitch and, of course, the pitch varies as the attitude of the mind changes: Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind: the sun Of noon looked down and saw not one. The first two lines have the same pitch, because there is no difference in intensity of feeling or in the mental conception. There is, however, an entire change of thought beginning with "the sun." This is accompanied by a change of pitch. Force. Force is vocal energy; in other words, it is the power or volume of the voice, and is determined by the amount of physical and mental energy exerted by the speaker. The language of everyday conversation, when not marked by intensity of feeling or purpose, requires only a moderate amount of physical and mental energy and is expressed by moderate force. Intensity of feeling or purpose, on the other [Pg 24] [Pg 25] hand, is accompanied by a great expenditure of energy, and finds its natural outlet in strong force. In the following lines, (p. 132) the king's emphatic approval of De Lorge's action and his vehement condemnation of the lady's vanity find expression in strong force: "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!" Compare the moderate amount of energy expended in uttering the narrative clauses "cried Francis," "and he rose from where he sat," and "quoth he," which should be read with moderate force. More physical energy is expended in making one's self understood at a distance than near at hand, and in addressing a large audience than a small one; hence strong force is used in the following where it is accompanied by a loud tone of voice: "Come back, come back Horatius!" Loud cried the Fathers all. But strong force does not necessarily imply a loud tone of voice: "Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus; "Will not the villain drown? But for this stay, ere close of day We should have sacked the town!" Here Sextus gives vent to his concentrated hate for Horatius and speaks with strong force, but not in a loud tone of voice. The effort to influence the mind and action of others draws on a great fund of mental energy; hence commands, persuasion, and argument, all find their vocal expression in strong force. Hervé Riel, urging the captains to allow him to pilot the ships, speaks with strong force: Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me there's a way! Only let me lead the line, When the mental or physical energy is at a low ebb we speak with weak force: But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold, Was just that I was leaving home, and my folks were growing old. Take me out, sink me deep in the green profound, To sway with the long-weed, swing with the drowned, Where the change of the soft tide makes no sound, Far below the keels of the outward bound. For the same reason such poems as The Day is Done, (p. 63) and Part IV, of The Lady of Shalott, (p. 200) are read with gentle force. A change in force often accompanies a change in pitch. The lower pitch of parenthetical expressions, and narrative clauses...