* X . \ a\ ^ - N ^, ' .-V "* ^ A '\»* V * * 8 I v o N " a\ «* A<5: ■*W ^ V^ ^ <*v RECENTLY PUBLISHED BY JOS. ROBINSON, BALTIMORE. CHRISTIAN OFFICES, for the use of Families and Indivi- duals, compiled from the LITURGY of the PROTES- TANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH, and from the Devo- tional Writings of various Authors ; together with Selec- tions and Passages of Scripture and a Calendar pointing out a suitable portion of Scripture, for the Family Wor- ship in every Day of the Year. Second Edition, revised and materially improved. By WILLIAM EDWARD WYATT, D. D., Rector of St. Paul's Parish, Raltimore. A PRACTICAL VIEW of the PREVAILING RELIGIOUS SYSTEM of PROFESSED CHRISTIANS, in the higher and middle classes in this country, contrasted with real Christianity. By WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, Esq. — with an Introductory Essay, by the Rev. Daniel Wilson, A.M. Vicar of Islington, (now Bishop of Calcutta.) The MONUMENT: a small selection from the SERMONS of the late Right Rev. JAMES KEMP, D. D., Rector of St. Paul's Parish, Baltimore, and Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church of Maryland, &c. HENSHAW'S SHERIDAN. LESSONS ON ELOCUTION; ACCOMPANIED BY INSTRUCTIONS AND CRITICISMS ON THE BEADING OF THE CHURCH SERVICE: SELECTED FROM THE WORKS OF THOMAS SHERIDAN, Esa. WITH ALTERATIONS AND ADDITIONS INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, By J. P. K. HENSHAW, D. D. Rector of St. Peter's Church, Baltimore. BALTIMORE*. PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY JOS. ROBINSON, No. 2, N. Calverl-street. . * v v. N x ^ "■ ^"" % It \ x\ N ?*£* shall always confine it, when speaking of the English j) accent, to its true meaning, as set forth in the defini- tion, which I shall here repeat. Accent is a certain stress of the voice upon a particular letter of a syllable ii which distinguishes it from the rest, and at, the same i time distinguishes the syllable itself, to which it belongs, i from the others in a word. The only difference of our accent depends upon its U seat, which may be either upon a vowel, or a conso- i ACCENT. 47 i nant. Upon a vowel, as in the words glory, father, j holy. Upon a consonant, as in the words ha&'it, bor'- j row, battle. When the accent is on the vowel the syllable is long, because the accent is made by dwell- I ing on the vowel a longer time than usual. When it is on the consonant, the syllable is short ; because the | accent is made by passing rapidly over the vowel and ; giving a smart stroke of the voice to the following ! consonant. Thus the words, ad'd, led', bid', rod', cub', are all short, the voice passing quickly over the vowel ; to the consonant; but, for the contrary reason, the i words, all, laid, bide, road, cube, are long, the accent ! being on the vowels, on which the voice dwells some time, before it takes in the sound of the consonant. Obvious as this point is, it has wholly escaped the obser- vation of all our grammarians, prosodians, and compilers of dictionaries, who, instead of examining the peculiar genius of our tongue, implicitly, and pedantically fol- lowed the Greek method, of always placing the ac- centual mark over the vowel. Now the reason of this practice among the Greeks was, that as their accents consisted in change of notes, they could not be dis- tinctly expressed but by the vowels ; in uttering which the passage is entirely clear for the voice to issue, and i not interrupted or stopped, as in the case of pronounc- | ing the consonants. But our accent being of another ! nature, can just as well be placed on a consonant as a I vowel. By this method of marking the accented syl- | lable, our compilers of dictionaries, vocabularies, and I spelling books, must mislead provincials and foreigners, in the pronunciation of perhaps one half of the words 48 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. in our language. For instance, if they should look for the word, endeavour; finding the accent over the vowel e, they will of course sound it endea-vour. In the same manner dedicate will be called de-dicate, precip'- itate preci-pitate, phenomenon pheno-menon, and so i on through all words of the same kind. And in fact, we find the Scots do pronounce all such words in that manner ; nor do they ever lay the accent upon the con- sonant in any word in the whole language; in which, J the diversity of their pronunciation from that of the people of England, chiefly consists. It is a pity that j our compilers of dictionaries should have fallen into so gross an error; as the marking of the accents in the right way, would have afforded one of the most gene- I ral and certain guides to true pronunciation that is to be found with respect to our tongue ; as it is an unerr- ing rule throughout the whole, without a single excep- tion, that whenever the accent is on the consonant, the preceding vowel has always its first short sound, as i i i i i exemplified in the words, hat, bet, Jit, not, cub. And indeed as accent is the chief clue we have to the whole pronunciation of our tongue, while its nature was mis- understood, and its use perverted, it was impossible '. that provincials and foreigners could ever attain it; and accordingly the difficulty of speaking English pro- perly, has been found insurmountable to all, except the well-educated natives. I shall now conclude this head with a few practical rules for the strict observation of the laws of accent ; ACCENT. 49 the necessity of which, I hope, is by this time appa- ! rent to all my hearers. All persons who pronounce English words properly, of course lay the accent right, as that is a part of pro- nunciation ; and never fail to do so in conversation. But many, when they come to read or speak in public, i transgress the rules of accent. This arises from a I mistaken notion in some, that words are rendered more j distinct to a large assembly, by dwelling longer upon l the syllables which compose them; and in others, that j it adds to the pomp and solemnity of public declama- ! tion, in which they think every thing ought to be dif- 1 ferent from private discourse. This has been chiefly the vice of the stage, and has principally given rise to the distinction of what is commonly called Theatrical Declamation, in opposition to that of the natural kind ; into an imitation of which many public speakers have ! been betrayed, and their manner called on that account : Theatrical. Upon examination it would appear, that it arises chiefly from their dwelling upon syllables that are unaccented, through a notion that it makes the words move more slow, stately, and uniform, than the quick- er and more spirited accents will allow. This was a fault which Shakspeare complained of in his time, and which has not been thoroughly amended since ; though there have been some late efforts towards it, and some progress made in it. The passage alluded to in Shaks- peare is in the advice given to the player by Hamlet; where in laying down rules for a just delivery, he says, Speak the speech I pray you as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it, as I < 50 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. some of our actors do, I had as lieve the town-crier spoke my lines." By c trippingly on the tongue,' he means the bounding from accent to accent; tripping along from word to word, without resting on syllables by the way. And by c mouthing, 7 is meant, dwelling upon syllables that have no accent, and ought therefore to be uttered as quickly as is consistent with distinct ( articulation ; or prolonging the sounds of the accented syllables, beyond their due proportion of time. The least degree of faultiness in this respect, gives an arti- ficial air to language,; inasmuch as it differs from the usual, and what is commonly called, natural manner , of utterance ; and is on that account, of all others, to be avoided most by public speakers ; whose business it is industriously to conceal art. If any one pronoun- ces the words for-tune, en'-croac'h-me'nt, con'-jectiire, , grat'i-tiide, tomorrow, hap'pine'ss, patien'ce ; he does not utter words, at least not English words, but sylla- bles ; which with us, are always tied together by an , accent ; as for' tune, encroachment, conjecture, grat'i- j, tude, tomor'row, hap'piness, patience. And yet, this j is an error, which almost all persons who speak with , solemnity, run into, for want of knowing in what true , solemnity of delivery consists. Which, though it may ] demand a slower utterance than usual, yet, requires , that the same proportion in quantity be observed in , the syllables, as there is in musical notes, when the , same tune is played in quicker or slower time. But of this I shall have occasion to speak more at large D hereafter. ACCENT. 51 The only rule, with regard to this head, necessary to be observed by all public speakers, who can pro- nounce English properly, is to lay the accent always on the same syllables, and the same letter of the sylla- ble, which they usually do in common discourse, and ■ to take care not to lay any accent or stress, upon any | other syllable. A rule so plain and easy, that nothing j but affectation, or bad habits, contracted from imitat- | ing others, can prevent its always taking place. And j yet the want of knowing, or attending to this rule, is ! one of the chief sources, of the unnatural manner of < declaiming, which is so generally complained of, though ' few can tell exactly where the fault lies. I shall only add upon this head, that there are few things in our language, so regular, and well settled, as the article of accent. It is true there are some words that have occasioned many disputes about the seat of ' the accent, and have had their different partisans ; such ! as concordance or concordance, refractory or refrac'- tory, corruptible, or corrup'tible, accen'ted, or accent- ed ; the accenting of these being doubtful, every man is at liberty to choose which he likes best; and in giving the preference, the ear beyond all doubt ought to be consulted, as to that which forms the most agreea- ble sound, rather than an absurd, pedantic rule, attempt- ed to be laid down, that of throwing the accent as far back as possible ; which has no foundation in the ge- nius of our tongue, and must frequently produce the most discordant sounds. And if any one who has the liberty of choosing, should prefer the sound of con- cordance, to concordance ; refractory to refrac'tory, 52 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. or corruptible to corruptible ; he cannot possibly make any one form a better opinion of his judgment, and I am sure he will give those who have any skill in sounds, a very bad one of his ear. EMPHASIS. 53 CHAPTER IV. EMPHASIS. | Having done with words, I shall now proceed to | consider sentences, the most important article in which I is that of emphasis. As the man who attempts to pronounce words with- ! out observation of accent, really does not utter words i but syllables ; so the man who attempts to pronounce I sentences without emphasis, really does not utter sentences, but words. So that in speech, words are the body ; pauses and stops give it shape and form, and distinguish the several parts of the body ; but ac- cent and emphasis are the life, blood, and soul, which put it in motion, and give it power to act. And as nothing can be more tedious to the ear, or irksome to the mind, than a long succession of mere lifeless word?, we need not wonder that our public readers and reci- ters, who judge of language only in its written state, and have never become acquainted with its nobler properties as offered to the ear, are either so little attended to, or heard with disgust. What, then, is emphasis? Emphasis is of two kinds ; simple and complex. Simple, when it serves only to point out the plain meaning of any proposition; complex, when besides the meaning, it marks also, some affection or emotion of the mind; or gives a 64 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. meaning to words, which they would not have in their usual acceptation, without such emphasis. The opinion that emphasis is only a more 'forcible accent than ordinary laid upon the word to which it belongs, and that it is exactly of the same nature, dif- fering only in degree of force; is one, which to the great prejudice of elocution, lias too generally prevail- ed. But there is an absolute and constitutional difference, between accent and emphasis, as certainly there ought to be, which consists in this; that every emphatic syl- lable, besides a greater stress, is marked also by a change of note in the voice. To shew the necessity of this, we need only observe, that the mind, in com- municating its ideas, is in a continual state of activity, emotion, or agitation, from the different effects which those ideas produce on the mind of the speaker. Now, as the end of such communication is not merely to lay open the ideas, but also all the different feelings which they excite in him who utters them, there must be some other marks, besides words, to manifest these; as words uttered in a monotonous state, can only re- present a similar state of mind, perfectly free from all activity or emotion. As the communication of these internal feelings was a matter of much more conse- quence in our social intercourse, than the mere convey- ing of ideas, so the Author of our being did not leave the invention of this language, as in the other case, to man, but stamped it himself upon our nature, in the same manner as he has done with regard to the rest of the animal world, who, all express their various feel- EMPHASIS. 55 ings, by various tones. Only ours from the superior I rank that we hold, is infinitely more comprehensive; as there is not an act of the mind, an exertion of the fancy, or an emotion of the heart, which have not their peculiar tone, or note of the voice, by which they are to be expressed, all suited in the exactest proportion, to the several degrees of internal feeling. It is in the proper use of these tones chiefly that the life, spirit, grace, and harmony of delivery consist ; and the rea- son that this is a talent so rarely to be found, is, that almost all the nations of the world have lost sight of this language of nature, and substituted fantastical and artificial notes in its room. Languages may be divided into two classes, accen- tual, and emphatical. The accentual are those, in which various notes, or inflexions of the voice, are af- fixed to words, either in their separate state, or when united in sentences, without any regard to their mean- ing. The emphatical are those, in which all the va- rious notes and changes of the voice, are wholly regu- lated by the meaning of the words, and the sentiments which they contain. Having defined the nature of the two kinds of lan- guage, as distinguished into accentual, and emphatical ; it may be a matter of curiosity, to examine which of the two, upon a fair comparison, merits the preference ? Though the discussion of this point may be considered as of little use, farther than speculation, yet if it leads us to a discovery, that the mode of utterance which has fallen to our share, is in its own nature superior to that of the ancients, it may induce us, to take pains, to 56 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. carry it to perfection, and obtain that superiority over them, to which we are thus entitled. In comparing them, let us suppose them both in a state of perfection. The accentual, certainly was among the ancients : the emphatical, through want of attention, never has been so among us. But as the former has been wholly lost to us, the comparison can never be brought to the test of experiment ; and therefore we are reduced to the necessity of considering the point only hypothetically. In order to judge which kind of language is best, we must first consider what are the ends, which ought to be proposed, in all attempts to bring language to per- fection. They are two; one for use, the other for pleasure. To attain the useful end, it is necessary to be able to communicate, all that passes in the mind of one man, to others. To attain the pleasurable end, that this should be done in such a way, as to delight and flatter the ear. The former is the essential, the lat- ter, the ornamental part of discourse. All that passes in the mind of man may be reduced to two classes, which I shall call, ideas, and emotions. By ideas, I mean, all thoughts which rise, and pass in succession, in the mind of man : by emotions, all exertions of the mind, in arranging, combining, and separating its ideas, as well as all the effects produced on the mind itself, by those ideas, from the more violent agitation of the passions, to the calmer feelings, produced by the operations of the intellect and fancy. In short, thought is the object of the one; internal feeling of the other. That which serves to express the former, I call the language of ideas; and the latter, the language of emotions. Words EMPHASIS. 57 are the signs of the one ; tones, of the other. With- out the use of these two sorts of language, it is impossi- ble to communicate, through the ear, all that passes in the mind of man. But there is an essential difference between the two, which merits our utmost attention. The language of ideas is wholly arbitrary ; that is, words, which are the signs of our ideas, have no natu- ral connexion with them, but depend purely upon con- vention, in the different societies of men, where they are employed; which is sufficiently proved, by the diversity of languages spoken by the different nations of the world. But it is not so with regard to the lan- guage of emotions. Nature herself has taken care to frame that for the use of man ; having annexed to every act, and feeling of the mind, its peculiar tone, which spontaneously breaks forth, and excites in the minds of others, tuned invariably by the hand of nature in unison to those notes, analogous emotions. When- ever, therefore, man interferes, by substituting any other notes, in the room of those which nature has annex- ed to the acts and feelings of the mind, so far the lan- guage of emotions is corrupted, and fails of its end. For the chords of the human heart, thus tuned in uni- son to the natural notes only, will never vibrate in correspondence to those of the artificial kind. These artificial notes are at best insignificant ; when not regu- lated by certain rules of proportion, as in the irregular accentual, they are discordant to the ear, and deform utterance ; and when reduced to the nicest musical pro- portion, as in the regular accentual, the utmost effect they can produce, is, to delight the ear, and amuse the 6* 58 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. fancy. But whether this be not purchasing a sensual, or fantastic gratification, at too dear a rate, by sacri- ficing to it that endless variety of notes, annexed by nature to that endless variety of thoughts and emotions, may justly be questioned. And however high my idea of the ancient orators may be, and whatever pow- erful effects may have been produced by their mode of delivery, I cannot help thinking that with the same skill and ability in all the other branches of oratory, they would have produced effects still more powerful, had they delivered themselves in a language constitut- ed like ours, the language of nature, unsophisticated by art. This may be illustrated by an instance of a similar kind ; for I believe it will be allowed, that the finest opera, with all the charms and expression of music, and performed in the best manner possible, however it may delight the ear, and captivate the fancy, will not make an equal impression on the mind, or move the passions to so high a degree, as a well- acted tragedy, delivered with all the energy of emphat- ic speech. From this account of emphasis, the proper use of it in reading, is clearly pointed out ; and is to be acquir- ed by a due degree of attention and practice. Every one who understands what he reads, cannot fail of finding out each emphatic word ; and his business then is to mark it properly, not by stress only, as in the accented syllables, but by a change of note, suited to the matter, which constitutes the essence of emphasis. If it be asked how the proper change of note is always to be hit upon, my answer is, that he must not only EMPHASIS. 59 understand, but feel the sentiments of the author; as all internal feeling must be expressed by notes, which is the language of emotions; not words, the language of ideas. And if he enters into the spirit of the au- thor's sentiments, as well as into the meaning of his words, he will not fail to deliver the words in proper- ly varied tones. For there are few people who speak English without a provincial tone, that have not the most accurate use of emphasis, when they utter their sentiments in common discourse; and the reason that they have not the same use of it, in reading aloud the sentiments of others, is owing to the very defective and erroneous method, in which the art of reading is taught; whereby all the various, natural, expressive tones of speech, are suppressed, and a few artificial, unmeaning, reading notes are substituted in their room* *The necessity of observing propriety of emphasis is so great, that the true meaning of words, cannot be conveyed without it. For the same individual words, ranged in the same order, may have several different meanings, according to the placing of the emphasis. Thus, to use a trite instance, the following sentence may have as many different meanings, as there are words in it, by varying the emphasis. "Shall you ride to town to-morrow ?" If the emphasis is on shall, as, shall you ride to town to-morrow? it implies, that the person spoken to had expressed before such an intention, but that there is some doubt in the questioner, whether he be determined on it or not, and the answer may be, Certainly, or, I am not sure. If it be on you, as, shall you ride to town to-morrow? the question im- plies that some one is to go, and do you mean to go yourself, or send some one in your stead? and the answer may be, No, but my servant shall. If on ride, as, shall you ri v de, &c. the 60 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. There is no article, in which more frequent mistakes i are committed, than in this important one of emphasis, both with regard to stress and tone. The chief reason, of this general abuse of emphasis, seems to be, that chil- dren are taught to read sentences which they do not understand ; and as it is impossible to lay the emphasis [ [ answer may be, No, I shall walk. If on tow^n, a9 shall you ride to tow'n to-morrow, the answer may be, No, but I shall 1 ride to the forest. If on to-morrow, as, shall you ride to town j to-morrow, the answer may be, No, not to-morrow, but the next day. As there is no pointing out the very meaning of the words by reading, without a proper observation of v emphasis, it surely ' has been a great defect in the art of writing, that there have J been no marks invented for so necessary a purpose; as it re- quires at all times, a painful attention in the reader to the f context, in order to be able to do it at all ; and in many cases, j the most severe attention will not answer the end ; for the em- phasis is often to be regulated, not by the preceding part of the sentence, but by the subsequent one ; which frequently is so long, that the motion of the eye, cannot precede the voice, P with sufficient celerity, to take in the meaning in due time. \ The want of such marks is no where so strongly perceived as in the general manner of reading the Church Service ; which is often so ill performed, that not only the beauty, and spirit of the service is lost, but the very meaning is obscured, conceal- ed, or wholly perverted. I have heard many clergymen, who did not read one single sentence as it should be, from the begin- S ning to the end ; and I have known but few who were not guilty r of many faults in omitting, or misplacing the emphasis. And on this account it is, that there is no composition in the Eng- lish tongue, which is at all attended to, so little understood, in general, as the Church Service. EMPHASIS. 61 i right, without perfectly comprehending the meaning of I what one reads, they get a habit either of reading in a j monotone, or if they attempt to distinguish one word from the rest, as the emphasis falls at random, the | sense is usually perverted, or changed into nonsense. The way to prevent this, is, to put no book into their hands, which is not suited to their slender capacities ; and to take care that they never read any thing whose meaning they do not fully comprehend. The best way, indeed, of furnishing them with lessons for a long time, would be to take down their common prattle, and make them read it, just as they speak it ; only correct- ing any bad habits they may have acquired in their ut- terance. Thus they will early be initiated into the practice of considering reading to be nothing more than speaking at sight, by the assistance of letters ; in the same manner as singing at sight is performed in music, by the help of notes. And as it is certain that nature, if left to herself, directs every one in the right use of emphasis, when they utter their own immediate sentiments, they will have the same unerring rule to guide them after they have been written down ; and in process of time, by constant practice in this way, they will be able to deliver the sentiments of others, from books in the same manner. This will be found the best method, not only of giving them a just and natural delivery in reading, but also of ensuring it to them when they come afterwards to speak in public. With regard to persons more advanced in life, who have contracted a habit of neglecting, or misemploying emphasis in reading, the best way to remedy this will A 62 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. be, to dedicate a certain portion of time every day toj reading aloud some passages fr,om books, written in an easy, familiar style ; and at every sentence, let them, ask themselves this question, — how should I utter this,/ were I speaking it as my own immediate sentiments ?i In that case, on what words should I lay the emphasis,* and with what change of notes in the voice ? Though at, first they may find, that their former habit will counteract^ their endeavors in this new way, yet by perseverance,!) they will not fail of success ; particularly if they wWii get each sentence by heart, for some time, and revolvd it in their minds with that view, without looking at the book. Nor should Jthey be discouraged by frequent disappointments in their first attempts, but repeat the same sentence over, till they have satisfied themselves. For it is not the quantity that they read, which is to ( be regarded in this case, but the right manner of doing? it; and when they shall have mastered that in some in^ stances, they will afterwards make a rapid progress to- wards accomplishing it in all. Nothing has contributed so much, and so universally to the corruption of delivery, as the bad use which has' been made of the modern art of punctuation, by intro- ducing artificial tones into all sentences, to the exclu- sion of the natural ; for the teachers of the art of read- ing, in order to distinguish with greater accuracy, the stops from each other in utterance, annexed to them different notes of the voice, as well as different portions •[ of time. Those which marked an incomplete sense,; had an elevated note of the voice joined to them; those! which marked a complete sense, a depressed, or lowi ii EMPHASIS. g3 note. This uniform elevation and depression of the voice, in all sentences alike, produced a new kind of tone, which may be termed the reading brogue, with *ivhich all who learned to read, even such as were free from every other, kind, became infected. Nor is this brogue confined to reading only, but in general has made its way into all the several branches of public speaking. And this, from an obvious cause. Boys ire accustomed to repeat their lessons, declamations, Sic. in the same manner as they read. This mode is not only confirmed in them by habit, but they acquire k predilection for it. They consider this species of 'delivery, which they have been taught, as far superior ':o that kind which comes of course, without any pains, find therefore judge it most proper to be used on all Smblic occasions. Thus has this unnatural mode of ut- erance spread itself in the senate-house, the pulpit, the •bar, the stage, and every place where public declama- tion is used ; insomuch that the instances of a just and latural elocution are very rare : the want of which is nost sensibly, and generally felt in our churches, i Our neighbors the French are not altogether in the same predicament with us, with regard to this article, hough it is still in a very imperfect state among them, or though they have been employed near a century in regulating and refining their tongue, still it is, as itvith us, the written, not the spoken language, which ipas been the chief object of their attention. There is )ne article of speech indeed, which they have tho- roughly ascertained, and reduced to rule ; I mean pro- nunciation. But as to the art of delivery, it has never 64 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. so much as been thought of among them ; and all their treatises of rhetoric and oratory have, for their object, ' like ours, not speech, but only composition in writing, i The art of reading, as taught there, differs from ours I in one essential article, which has been the main cause of the difference between their public elocution and [j ours ; in which they certainly have a great superiority <-> over us. The article I mean is this ; they have laid it 7 down as a maxim, that children are to be taught to p read in a perfect monotone ; and this monotone is ever I after used by them in reading works of all sorts, whether j: in poetry or prose; and, from custom, is considered by t the French, as the only just manner of reading. Nothing, ; certainly, can be more absurd, nothing more contrary to common sense, nature, and taste, than this mode of l reading. Yet it is attended with one advantage, that public elocution is not infected by it, as it is by our method. The monotone is confined wholly to reading *> but, in all public declamation, the speakers indulge themselves in the free use of that variety, which is natural to them ; and their preachers, who deliver their discourses from memory, not notes, have an elocution more animated, more varied, more just than ours, and produce proportional effects upon their auditors. But this method of reading was a poor expedient to bring about a reformation in one of the articles of delivery: for it is probable, that the first motive towards estab- lishing this principle in the art of reading, was to put an end to the different tones used by people of the different provinces, by making all read alike in one uniform tone. But this, with regard to the article of reading, was EMPHASIS. 65 only substituting one evil, and perhaps a worse one, in the room of another; and with regard to the more im- portant use of delivery, whether from memory, or ex- temporaneous, it produced no effect at all ; as each in that case, resumed his own habitual tone of utterance. They who were in a situation of acquiring a propriety of speech in conversation, from being bred among those who spoke with purity, retained the same in public delivery; while they, whose utterance was vitiated, '■ by being bred up among those, whose provincial tones, | or other irregularities of speech, prevailed in private I discourse, brought the same faults with them into public also. Thus, in comparing the two different methods, used in England and France, in teaching the art of reading, we find that the former carries a taint in its root, which spreads through all branches of elo- cution, withers the tree, and will never suffer it to bear fruit : whereas the latter is perfectly inoffensive, does neither harm nor good, and leaves nature and custom to take their course. Now this view of these two methods, may serve to point out a third to us; which, avoiding equally the monotony of the French, on the one hand, and the adventitious reading tones of the English, on the other, should teach the art of read- ing, upon principles of pure and correct speaking. G6 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. CHAPTER V. PITCH AND MANAGEMENT OF THE VOICE. The next points I am to treat of, are the pitch and , management of the voice; articles of the utmost im- „ portance to give due force and proportion to all the \ others. To the being heard with satisfaction, it is ne- cessary that the speaker should deliver himself with , ease. But if he does not know how to pitch his voice j properly, he can never have the due management of it ; and his utterance will be painful to himself, and irk- j some to his hearers. Every speaker who is not corrupted by bad habit, has three pitches in his voice, the high, low, and mid- dle pitch. The middle pitch is that which is used in ordinary discourse, from which he either rises or falls accordingly as the matter of his discourse, or emotions li of his mind require. This middle pitch, therefore, is k what ought to be generally used, for two reasons ; first, $ because the organs of the voice are stronger, and more p pliable in this pitch, from constant use : and second- I) ly, because it is more easy to rise or fall from that ] pitch, to high or low, with regular proportion. Most persons, through want of skill and practice, i when they read or speak in public, fall into one of i the extremes. Either through timidity and diffidence Is they use the low pitch, in which they are not heard at all, or with so much trouble to the listener, as soon to io PITCH AND MANAGEMENT OF THE VOICE. 67 weary attention : or if they aim at avoiding this fault, they run into the high pitch ; which is productive of consequences equally bad. The organs of the voice, in this unusual pitch, are soon wearied, and languor and hoarseness ensue. And as the reason for continu- ing it, will be equally strong during the whole dis- course, as for the first setting out in it, the speaker must lose all the benefits which arise from variety, and fall into a disgusting monotony. The prevalence of this practice arises from a com- mon mistake in those who speak for the first time in a large room, and before a numerous auditory. They conclude it impossible that they should be heard in their common pitch of voice, and therefore change it to a higher. Thus they confound two very distinct things, making high and low, the same with loud and soft. Loud and soft in speaking, is like the forte and piano in music, it only refers to the different degrees of force used in the same key : whereas high and low imply a change of key. A man may speak louder or softer in the same key ; when he speaks higher or low- er, he changes his key. So that the business of every one is to proportion the force or loudness of voice, to the room, and number of his auditory, in its usual pitch. If it be larger than ordinary, he is to speak louder, not higher ; in bis usual key, not in a new one. And whoever neglects this, will never be able to manage his voice with ease to himself, or pleasure to his hear- ers. • It is evident that he who begins in the high pitch on a supposition that he could not otherwise be heard, 68 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. must for the same reason continue in that pitch through- |j out. And they who set out under this delusion are apt \ to continue in it all their lives, having but little chance of being informed of their error. So that whenever they deliver any thing in public they of course fall into this unnatural key. This error is no where more observable than in the usual manner of reading Divine Service. The unnatu- ral pitch of voice, is the first thing that strikes every judicious ear, in the first sentence ttr clergyman utters, which is continued throughout ; nor have I heard many in my life who read the Service in their own proper pitch. The quantity of sound, necessary to fill even a large space, is much smaller than is generally ima- gined; and to the being well heard, and clearly under- stood, a good and distinct articulation, contributes more than power of voice. Possessed of that, a man with a weak voice, has infinite advantages over him who has a strong one, without it. If the voice be weak, and the articulation good, the attention and silence of the audi- tory will be proportionally greater, that they may not miss any thing that is said; whereas they are under no such apprehensions from a loud speaker. He who delivers himself in a moderate pitch, whenever his subject demands that he should rise to a higher, or sink to a lower, does it with ease and due proportion ; and produces the effects which are to-be expected from such change, and agreeable variety. Whilst he who takes a high pitch, cannot rise, upon o&asion, without running into discord, nor sink, with anj rule of proportion to guide him. They who to avoid this PITCH AND MANAGEMENT OF THE VOICE. 69 ; fault run into the opposite extreme, and begin in a I lower pitch than is natural to them, err indeed on the i safer side, but are equally distant from the point of ] truth. It is true it is more easy to rise gradually and j proportionally than to descend; but whilst they re- I main in that key, it will appear equally unnatural, and ! more languid than the other. And they will be very apt through the body of their discourse, to run chiefly into that key, in which they had set out. The true, safe, and sure rule (unless upon extraordinary occasions indeed) is always to begin in your usual pitch of speak- ing ; if that should not prove strong enough, strength- en it by practice ; if there be such a natural weakness in the organs as that you cannot be heard in public assemblies in that pitch, you had better give up all thoughts of appearing in them ; or if your profession obliges you to it, you must give up all hopes of speak- ing gracefully, and agreeably, or even intelligibly. For he who is obliged to strain his voice in order to be heard, will scarce articulate well. The office of ar- ticulation is of a very delicate nature, and requires that the organs which perform it, should not be disturbed, or suffer any violence ; which must always be the case when the voice is pushed out upon them with uncom- mon force. I have known instances of persons with very strong voices, of whom in their utmost exertions of them, it has been very justly observed, that there was no hearing what they said, they spoke so loud ; for the torrent of the voice, left neither* time nor pow- er in the organs, to shape the words properly, but 7* 70 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. bore away with it clustered and uncouth masses of abortive syllables. The best rule for a speaker to observe is, never to utter a greater quantity of voice, than he can afford without pain to himself, or any extraordinary effort. Whilst he does this, the other organs of speech will be i at liberty to discharge their several offices with ease ; U and he will always have his voice under command, j But whenever he transgresses these bounds, he gives ( | up the reins, and has no longer any management of it. J And it will ever be the safest way too, to keep within i his compass, rather than go at any time to the utmost extent of it; which is a dangerous experiment, and never justifiable but upon some extraordinary emotion. For even in that case, the transgressing the limits in the least, (difficult as the task is for a speaker to keep within bounds, when under the influence of such emo- tion) will scarce be pardoned. For, as the judicious Shakspeare has well observed in his instructions to the player, c In the very torrent, tempest, and as I may say, h whirhcind of your passion, you must acquire and beget \ a temperance that may give it smoothness.'' For the (j same reason also, every speaker should take care in i the management of the breath, always to get a fresh \ supply before he feels any want of it ; for whilst he has i some to spare, he recruits it with such ease, that his li hearers are not at all sensible of his doing it. Whereas ] if he waits untill he is put in mind of it by any degree i of uneasiness, -he not only does it with more difficulty to himself, but he may depend upon it that his hearers i also have felt his uneasiness, and been sensible of his c PITCH AND MANAGEMENT OF THE VOICE. 71 difficulty. For so strong is the sympathy between the organs of speech, and those of hearing, that the least uneasiness in the one, is immediately perceived by the other. I shall close my observations on this head with two rules ; one, for giving strength and power to the voice in its natural pitch. The other for adjusting the pro- per quantity or degree of loudness in the voice, pro- portioned to the size of the room and the number of the auditory. The first rule for strengthening the voice, is this. Any one, who through habit, has fallen into a weak utterance, cannot hope suddenly to change it ; he must do it by degrees and constant practice. I would therefore recommend it to him, that he should daily exercise himself in reading, or repeating in the hearing of a friend ; and that too in a large room. At first his friend should stand at such a distance only as the speaker can easily reach, in his usual manner of delivering himself. Afterwards let him gradually in- crease his distance, and the speaker will in the same gradual proportion increase the force of the voice ; for the method of increasing by degrees is easy in this as in every thing else, when sudden transitions are im- practicable ; and every new acquisition of power, ena- bles you the better to go on to the next degree. When he shall have thus got to that distance, beyond which the speaker cannot be heard without straining, and forcing his voice, there let him stop ; and let that be the usual place of his standing to hear the most part of what is declaimed ; because when the speaker, is able by practice to manage his voice in that extent, he will 72 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. certainly be able to command it in all the inferior ' degrees. Though for the more gradual unfolding of ' the organs, and regular increase of the quantity of the voice, it will be always right for the hearer to begin at each day's exercise with the shortest distance, and increase it by degrees till he arrives at the utmost ; in which situation, for the reason before assigned, the chief part of the exercise ought to be performed. The second rule for giving a proper degree of loud- ness, or issuing a sufficient quantity of voice propor- tioned to the room and the audience, which is common- ly called pitching the voice, is this. Let the speaker after having looked round the assembly, fix his eyes on that part of his auditory which is farthest from him, and he will mechanically endeavour to pitch his voice so as that it may reach them. This is what we con- stantly practise in common discourse, for we always proportion the loudness or softness of voice, to the dis- tance of the person to whom we are speaking. When the speaker, therefore, shall have fixed his eye upon the most : distant part of his audience, his business is to consider himself as addressing his discourse to some one amongst them, in such a manner as that he may be heard by him, and if the person be not beyond the reach of his ' voice, he will not fail to effect it. But still he is to take care not to change his usual pitch in order to do this, but only to add force, or degrees of loudness in proportion to the distance. This is what we do in " life when we call after any person to come back ; we add loudness to our voice according to the distance he has got from us, but we never change the key, or bawl, * PITCH AND MANAGEMENT OF THE VOICE. 73 till we find that he has got so far as that his ear can- not be reached by the natural pitch of our voice. He, therefore, who sets out in a higher key than is natural to him, in order that he may be heard by the most distant, may be justly said to bawl out his discourse, but not to deliver it. There is another material circumstance to be attend- ed to in pitching the voice, which arises from the con- struction of the room in which you are to speak; some being admirably contrived for the purpose of speaking, and others quite the contrary. Of course, in the former, a much smaller quantity of voice will do, than in the latter. The first object of every speaker, ought to be to find out whether his voice can fill the room or not ; and afterwards to proportion the quantity of it accord- ingly. By filling a room with the voice is meant, when there is such a quantity of it uttered, as not only will reach the extremities, but return also to the speaker. And a room may be said to be well constructed for speaking, when this is effected by a moderate exertion of a common voice. The two extremes are when either a room through its size, or ill construction, will admit of no reverberation, or when the reverberation is made by an echo. I shall endeavor to find out what is best to be done in the three cases. In the first case, when the speaker can fill the room with his voice, his business is to find out what quantity will be suffi- cient to do it ; that he may neither unnecessarily waste his voice by throwing out too much, nor diminish his power by using too little ; but that he may have a per- fect command and management of it, according to the 74 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. different degrees of exertion, which may be required ,, in the different parts of his discourse. The best way of finding this out, will be, to begin with a moderate , quantity of voice, and to increase it gradually, till the ! speaker finds out the degree of loudness, that is neces- sary to fill the room ; which will be discovered to him I by the return of the sound to his own ear, as soon as he has arrived at the proper pitch. With this degree i or quantity of voice he is to deliver all the more forci- [ ble, and impassioned parts of his discourse. For 1 though he may be distinctly heard with a smaller ex- ertion, yet it will not be in a manner so satisfactory to \ the hearer. Every speaker, therefore, in a well con- structed room, which is not too large for his powers, I may have an infallible criterion by which to judge of , that point, as he may be sure that he has filled the ears " of his auditory, when he has filled the room ; and he may certainly know when he has filled the room, by the return of his voice to his own ear. This is one of : the most valuable pieces of management that a public speaker can possess, and of which, with due attention, and a little practice, he may easily become master. This rule is on a supposition that the room is so con- r structed as to return the sound gently and equably, i without any perceptible echo. But in the second case where the sound is suddenly n reverberated by an echo, the difficulty to the speaker i is much increased. Nothing is more apt to mislead the unwary and unskilful speaker, than this circum- stance in a room ; for as his voice sounds much loud- er to himself on that account, he is apt to conclude i that he is the better heard ; whereas the very thing d PITCH AND MANAGEMENT OF THE VOICE. 75 which adds to the loudness, destroys articulation and distinctness of utterance, which are essentially necessa- ry to the being understood. For the quick and sud- den reverberation of the sounds which have been utter- ed, makes such a jumble with those which are uttering, that the whole appears a confused babble, of something like words, indeed, but utterly unintelligible. In the former case, when the room is well constructed for speaking, the return of the voice is made in a moder- ate and equable manner; in the latter, it rebounds like a tennis-ball. In the first case, the undulation of sound resembles the circles made in a smooth water by the gentle dropping in o^a pebble, where all gradually in- crease in their circumference, and are regular in their figures: the other, resembles the motion of the water when a stone is dashed violently into it, where all is irregular and confused. Nothing can shew the igno- rance which prevails in the art of speaking in this age, in a stronger light, than this very circumstance ; for there have been few rooms built for the purpose of speaking, in which the contrivers have not endeavor- ed by artificial means to procure as strong an echo as possible, in order to assist the speaker, when it is of all things the greatest hindrance to him. Whoever, therefore, has the misfortune to be under a necessity of speaking in a room of that sort, has no remedy but this. He must lessen the quantity of his voice till he finds no perceptible echo. It is true this will put it out of his power to exert himself, but all he can hope for in such circumstances, is to be heard and understood ; energy he must wholly give up, at least it must be con- fined to very small degrees. 76 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. CHAPTER VI. TONES. Thus far, I have considered the several points, that are fundamentally, and essentially necessary, to every public speaker ; without which, he will be so far from making any impression on his hearers, that he will not be able to command their attention, nor, in many cases, even make himself understood. But when a man has got so far, as I can see no rea- son that he should stop there, or that he should not farther endeavor, to make himself master of every thing, which can add grace, or force to his delivery ; I shall now attempt to lay open the principles, that may serve as guides to him, in the use of the remain- ing articles, tones, and gesture : upon which, all that is pleasurable, or affecting in elocution, chiefly depends. Words are, by compact, the marks or symbols of' our ideas; and this is the utmost extent of their power. Did nothing pass in the mind of man, but ideas ; were he a different kind of being from what he is ; were he like the Houynhms of Swift, always directed by a cool, invariable, and as I may say, instinctive reason ; to make known the ideas of such a mind, and its inter- nal operations, would not be beyond the power of words : and a language composed of words only, pro- vided there were a sufficient number of them, so that TONES. 77 ! each idea, and each operation, might have its distinct I mark, would sufficiently answer the end. For this we | find effected amongst us, in all matters where simple I reason, and mere speculation is concerned, as in the j investigation of mathematical truths. But as there are other things which pass in the mind i of man, beside ideas ; as he is not wholly made up of | intellect, but on the contrary, the passions, and the ! fancy, compose a part of his complicated frame ; as the j operations of these are attended with an infinite varie- I ty of emotions in the mind, both in kind and degree; it | is clear, that unless there be some means found of I manifesting those emotions, all that passes in the mind of one man cannot be communicated to another. Now, as in order to know what another knows, and in the same manner that he knows it, an exact transcript of the ideas which pass in the mind of one man, must be ! made by sensible marks, in the mind of another; so in ; order to feel what another feels, the emotions which are in the mind of one man, must also be communicat- ed to that of another, by sensible marks. That the sensible marks necessary to answer this purpose, cannot possibly be mere words, might fully be proved by a philosophical disquisition upon their na- ture, were it proper at present to enter into such an inquiry : but this point may be made sufficiently clear to answer my present design, in a shorter way. It is certain that we have given names to these emotions, at least to such as are of the strongest, and most remarka- ble kind, though much the greater part of them, and 8 78 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. the different degrees of all, remain without names, f But the use of these names, is not to stand as types of f the emotions themselves, but only as signs, of the sim- ple or complex ideas, which are formed of those emo- tions ; that we may be enabled, by the help of those names, to distinguish them in the understanding, and treat of their several natures, in the same cool manner f as we do with regard to other ideas, that have no con- ' nexion with any emotions of the mind. Every one will at once acknowledge that the terms ' anger, fear, love, hatred, pity, grief, will not excite in > him the sensations of those passions, and make him i angry or afraid, compassionate or grieved; nor, should ' a man declare himself to be under the influence of any ' of those passions, in the most explicit and strong words . that the language can afford, w r ould he in the least af- fect us, or gain any credit, if he used no other signs I but words. If any one should say in the same tone of voice that he uses in delivering indifferent propositions from a cool understanding, "Sure never any mortal was so overwhelmed with grief as I am at this present." Or, " My rage is roused to a pitch of frenzy, I can- not command it : Avoid me, be gone this moment, or \ I shall tear you to pieces :" surely no one would feel " any pity for the distress of the former, or any fear from the threats of the latter. We should either believe that he jested, or if he would be thought serious, we . should be moved to laughter at his absurdity. And why is this? but because he makes use of words only, as the signs of emotions, which it is impossible they TONES. 79 | can represent; and omits the use of the true signs of I the passions, which are, tones, looks, and gestures.* *The classification of inflections, is the point on which most ] of all, Walker is defective. The conviction that he was treat- j ing a difficult subject, led him into the very common mistake of attempting to make his meaning plain by prolixity of re- mark, and multiplicity of rules. One error of this respectable i writer is, that he attempts to carry the application of his prin- ! ciples too far. To think of reducing to exact system, all the j inflections to be employed in the delivery of plain language, I when there is no emotion and no emphasis, is idle indeed, i Many who have attempted to follow the theory to this ex- I treme, perplexed with the endless list of rules which it occa- | sions, have become discouraged. Whereas the theory is of no use except in reference to the rhetorical principles of lan- guage, where tones express sentiment. Another fault of Walker is, that the elements of speaking tones are not presented in any intelligible method; but are so promiscuously intermingled throughout his work, as to give it the character of obscurity. The absolute modifications of the voice in speaking are four : namely, monotone, rising inflection, falling inflection, and circumflex. The first may be marked to the eye by a horizontal line thus, ( — ) the second thus, (' ) the third thus, C) the fourth thus, (~). The monotone is a sameness of sound on successive sylla- bles, which resembles that produced by repeated strokes of a bell. This is often appropriate in grave delivery, and espe- cially in acts of devotion, where emotions of reverence are expressed. The rising inflection turns the voice upward, or ends high- er than it begins. It is heard invariably in the direct question; as, will you go to day ? The falling inflection turns the voice downwards, or ends lower than it begins. It is heard in the answer to a question; as, No ; I shall go to-morrow. 80 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. This will serve to shew us that the language, or sen- sihle marks, by which the emotions of the mind are ( discovered, and communicated from man to man, are } The circumflex is a union of the two inflections, sometimes on one syllable, and sometimes on several. It begins with the \ falling and ends with the rising slide. In " Porter's Analysis" from which this note is substantial- 1 ly taken, many examples of these two simple slides of the •[ voice on which the whole doctrine of inflections depends, are j given — it will be sufficient for our object to select a few un- I der each. Shall I come to you with a rod — or in lov'e ? The baptism of John, was it from heaven — or of men ? Is this book yours — or mine ? Are they Hebrews ? So am *I Are they the seed of A'braham ? So am V I. Are they ministers of Christ ? I am more. The circumflex occurs chiefly where the language is hypo- thetical or ironical. Though he will not rise and give him because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. I may go to-morrow, though I cannot go to-day. They tell us to be moderate ; but they, they, are to revel in profusion. But any fixed system of rules and directions which we may adopt in relation to this subject, must necessarily be imper- fect; for, as Whately justly remarks f - although the emphatic ' word in each sentence may easily be pointed out in writing, no variety of marks, that could be invented, — not even musi- cal notation, — would suffice to indicate the different tones in which the different emphatic words should be pronounced ; ' though on this depends frequently the whole force, and even sense of the expression. Take, as an instance, the following TONES. gl entirely different from words, and independent of them. Nor was this kind of language left to the invention of man, or to the chance of such arbitrary marks, as he should think proper to affix to the passions, in order to characterize them : no, it was necessary to society, and to the state of human nature in general, that the language of the animal passions of man at least, should be fixed, self-evident, and universally intelligible; and it has accordingly been impressed, by the unerring hand of nature, on the human frame. The improve- ment and exercise of the intellectual faculties, to any passage, (Mark. iv. 21.) "Is a candle brought to be put under , a bushel, or under a bed. 1 ' That I have heard so pronounced j as to imply that there is no other alternative: and yet the em- j phasis was laid on the right words. It would be nearly as I hopeless a task to attempt adequately to convey, by any writ- ! ten marks, precise directions as to the rate, — the degree of rapidity or slowness, — with which each sentence and clause should be delivered. Longer and shorter pauses may indeed be easily denoted ; and marks may be used, similar to those in music, to indicate, generally, quick, slow, or moderate time; but it is evident that the variations which actually take place, are infinite — far beyond what any marks could suggest; and that much of the force of what is said depends on the degree of rapidity with which it is uttered; chiefly on the relative rapidity of one part in comparison of another: for instance, in such a sentence as the following, in one of the Psalms, which one may usually hear read at one uniform rate ; " all men that see it shall say, this hath God done ; for they shall perceive that it is his work ;" the four words " this hath God i done," though monosyllables, ought to occupy very little less ! time in utterance than all the rest of the verse together." — Ed. 8* 32 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. eminent degree, could fall to the lot of but a small por- , tion of mankind ; as even the necessaries for the sup- i port of life, cannot be acquired by much the greater j part, but by such constant labour and industry as will afford no time for contemplative studies. But though , it be not necessary to society, that all men should know much ; it is necessary that they should feel much, ; and have a mutual sympathy, in whatever affects their ■ fellow creatures. All affections, therefore, and emo- ,i tions, belonging to man in his animal state, are so distinctly characterized, by certain marks, that they j cannot be mistaken ; and this language of the passions, It carries with it the stamp of its almighty Artificer; ut- terly unlike the poor workmanship of imperfect man, as it is not only understood by all the different nations : of the world, without pains or study; but excites alsoi similar emotions, or corresponding effects, in all minds alike. Thus, the tones expressive of sorrow, lamentation, mirth, joy, hatred, anger, love, pity, &c. are the same in all nations, and consequently can excite emotions in < us analogous to those passions, when accompanying words which we do not understand. Nay, the very i tones themselves, independent of words, will produce the same effects, as has been amply proved by the power of musical imitations. And though these tones, ii are usually accompanied with words, in order that the understanding may at the same time perceive the cause i of these emotions, by a communication of the particu- 1 lar ideas which excite them; yet that the whole energy, i or power of exciting analogous emotions in others, lies ' TONES. 83 in the tones themselves, may be known from this ; that whenever the force of these passions is extreme, words give place to inarticulate sounds : sighs and murmurings, in love; sobs, groans, and cries in grief; half choked sounds in rage ; and shrieks in terror, are then the only- language heard. And the experience of mankind may be appealed to, whether these have not more power in exciting sympathy, than any thing that can be done by mere words. Nor has this language of the passions been confined to man only ; for in that respect, he seems to be includ- ed in the general law given to all animals that are not mute, or wholly incapable of uttering any sound; as they also express their passions by certain tones, which striking the auditory nerves of those of the same spe- cies, always produce correspondent effects ; inasmuch as their kindred organs, are invariably tuned by the hand of nature, in unison with those sounds. But it is to be observed, that each species of animals, seems to have a language of its own, not at all under- stood, or felt by the rest. The lowing of the cow affects not the lamb; nor does the calf regard the bleating of the sheep. The neighing of the steed, calls up all the attention of the horse-kind; they gaze towards the place from whence the sound comes, and answer it, or run that way, if the steed be not in view ; whilst the cows and sheep raise not their heads from the ground, but continue to feed, utterly unmoved. The organs of hearing in each species, are tuned only to the sounds of their own ; and whilst the roaring of the lioness, makes the forest tremble, it is the sweetest 84 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. music to the ears of her young. This shews us, w that the auditory nerves of animals are constructed in i such a way, as to be affected only with such sounds ij as immediately regard the two chief ends of their be- f ing; the propagation and preservation of their species : ; all other sounds, therefore, excepting such as excite sympathy or antipathy, are indifferent to them. Sym- j pathy, with those of their own kind ; antipathy, against j such as are their natural enemies, or destructive of j their species. Those which excite sympathy, may be c supposed to be all in concord ; those which rouse an tipathy, to be discords; which, by creating an uneasy ; sensation, immediately dispose them to flight, to avoid a the enemy. Thus the cry of dogs, warns the hare i of his danger : and the howlings of the wolf, alarm the s flock. The different species of animals may, there fore, be considered as so many different nations, speak- k ing different languages, that have no commerce with each other ; each of which, consequently, understands none but their own ; excepting only those who are in ii a state of warfare, by whom the language of the ene my is sufficiently understood for the purpose of self 1 preservation. As the passions and emotions of the several kinds of animals, are very different, according to their differ- ent natures, so is there an equal diversity of tones, by which these several passions and emotions are express- ed ; from the horrible roarings of the lion, to the gen- tle bleatings of the lamb : from the loud bellowings of the wild bull, to the low purring of the domestic cat. But as there is no passion or emotion whatsoever, in - TONES 85 the whole animal world, which is not to be found in | man, so equally comprehensive is the language of his i passions, which are all manifested by suitable tones. The roaring of the lion, is not more terrible than the I voice of his anger; nor the cooings of the pigeon, more soft, than the murmurs of his love. The crowing of | the morning cock, is not so clear and sprightly as the i notes of his joy, nor the melancholy mournings of the I turtle, so plaintive as those of his wo. The organs I of hearing, therefore, in man, are so constructed, as not ! to be indifferent to any kind of tone, either in his own '■ species, or in the animal world, that is expressive of ! emotion or passion : from all, they receive either plea- sure or pain, as they are affected with sympathy or : antipathy. It is true that like the several tribes of | animals, man is most affected, or has the strongest ! sympathy excited, by such tones as are uttered by those ' of his own species ; and in proportion, also, by those ; which most nearly resemble them in others. We are j moved most by the distressful cries of those animals I that have any similitude to the human voice, such as the fawn, and the hare, when seized in the chase, by dogs. But still we both feel and understand the nature of all others. Nor can any animal utter any sound which we cannot explain, or tell from what emotion or pas- sion it proceeds. This distinguishing faculty was ne- cessary to man as master of the animal race, that by understanding their several languages, he might relieve their distresses, and supply their wants. And indeed, we find, that the tones of all domestic animals, expres- sive of their wants or distresses, have a wonderful S6 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. power over the human heart, and mechanically rouse us to their relief. i Thus extensive as are the powers of the human ear, u those of the human voice, do not fall short of them ; i but are exactly suited to them in degree and compre- i hension ; there is no tone which the ear can distinguish, ) that the voice, by pains and practice, is not capable \ of uttering. Hence it comes to pass, that as man un- - derstands the language of the different tribes of animals, \ so he can make himself understood by them. The horse rejoices in the applauding tones of his rider's j voice, and trembles when he changes them to those of ( anger. What blandishments do we see in the dog , when his master sooths him by kind notes ; what fear, and even shame, when he changes them to those of chiding ? By those the waggoner directs his team, and ,. the herdsman his flock. Even animals of the most L l savage nature, are notproof against the collective powers of the human voice ; and the shouts of multitudes, will put wild beasts to flight, who can hear without emotion the roarings of the thunder. ■, But that man should be furnished with such an ex- . f. tensive power in these points, even in his animal state, will appear reasonable, when we consider that his na- i| ture, is an abstract of all animal nature ; and that in j his tribe are to be found, all the emotions and passions, , that belong to all the several tribes. Consequently, all the marks expressive of those emotions, or such as are similar to them, should belong to that tribe. If man is capable of being the most social, the most f tender and affectionate to those of his own species, r TONES. 87 of any animal; he is at the same time, capable of becoming a greater enemy, and of having a stronger hatred and detestation of them, than is to be found even amongst the different tribes of animals, that are born in a natural state of enmity. All the na- tural language therefore of sympathy, and antipathy, should be given to him in a higher degree, for the same reason that it is in a more limited state assigned to the several tribes of animals. Thus far we find, that man, in his animal capacity, is furnished, like all other animals, by nature herself, with a language which requires neither study, art, nor imitation ; which spontaneously breaks out in the ex- actest expressions, nicely proportioned to the degrees of his inward emotions ; and which is not only univer- sally understood, but felt, by those of the same species, as also, in certain degrees, by the rest of the animal world. That animals should come perfect from the hand of nature, in this respeet, as well as in every thing else, seems reasonable, from this consideration, that they are utterly incapable of improving themselves, or of making any alteration in their frames, by their own care or pains ; their several faculties, by an invariable law, growing to perfection, and decaying with their bodies, with as little assistance from themselves, as vegetation in herbs or trees is produced in the insen- sitive world. Nature has not been less provident with regard to man, as the first of animals; on the con- trary this, as well as all his other animal faculties, is bestowed on him in a degree suitable to the superiority of his rank. But as man is something greater than the 88 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. first of animals; as he is the link between animal and spiritual beings, and partakes of both their natures ; other faculties, and other principles, belonging to his nobler, spiritual part, disclose themselves ; of which * there are no traces in the animal world. ] The first great distinction between the human and s animal species, and which seems to mark their boun- daries, is this: that it is in the power of man, by his . own pains and industry, to forward the perfection of L his nature. And what the nobler part of his nature is, is clearly pointed out by that distinction ; because it is that nobler part only, or such of his animal faculties, as are necessary to forward the perfection of that no- bler part, which are capable of improvement by such pains. All the organs and faculties of his body neces- sary to his animal life, are so fashioned by the hand of; nature, that they grow of course to perfection ; but the organs (if I may be allowed the expression) and facul- ties of his mind, necessary to his rational life, are only in embryo; and it depends wholly upon the assistance k of others, together with his own care, to give them birth, and bring them to maturity. Hence arises the necessity of a social state to man,: both for the unfolding, and exerting of his nobler facul-,J ties. For this purpose, a power of opening a commu- [ nication between mind and mind, was furnished in the most easy way, by bestowing on him the organs oft speech. But still we are to observe, that nature did no more than furnish the power and means ; she did not give the language, as in the case of the passions, but left it to the industry of men, to find out, and agree r TONES. 89 upon such articulate sounds, as they should choose to make the symbols of their ideas. And she seems to have laid down the same general law, with respect to erery thing which regarded the nobler part of man ; to furnish nothing but what was absolutely necessary, and leave the rest to his own industry, from the ex- ertion of which, his merit was to arise, and his preten- sions to stand a candidate for admission into a high- er, and happier order of beings. Accordingly as she did not furnish the words, which were to be the symbols of his ideas ; neither did she furnish the tones, which were to manifest, and communicate by their own virtue, the internal exertions and emotions, of such of his nobler faculties, as chiefly distinguish him from the brute species ; but left them also, like words, to the care and invention of man ; contenting herself with supplying him with an instrument, of such a compass as would furnish a sufficient variety of emotions, exer- tions, and energies of all his faculties, if sought for, and settled by agreement, to be their marks. Nor has art found those which are of her invention to be of less efficacy, or less capable of exciting correspondent emotions, than those even of nature, when established by custom; in this case justly called second nature. The only difference between them lying in this, that the tones of the animal passions, of themselves excite analo- gous emotions, without the intervention of any thing else ; they are understood, by being felt. But the tones re- sulting from the emotions and exertions of our nobler faculties, though they excite feeling, as it is in the na- ture of all tones to do so, yet it is only of a vague and 9 90 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. indeterminate nature; not corresponding to the ener- i gies in the mind of the speaker, unless they are asso- i ciated with words, or the symbols of the ideas which I give rise to those energies and emotions ; their nature i and degree then become fixed, and the hearer both \ feels and understands them. When any tones, therefore, \ are affixed to certain modes of expression, and adopt- ed into general use ; those tones, though they have no i natural connexion with the sentiment, no more than Words have with ideas; yet by such association, be- I come equally intelligible, and equally affecting with i those that have, and are made part of the language ; r insomuch, that were those expressions to be uttered, f without those tones, they would not convey their full i meaning. t Thus far I have considered tones, chiefly in contra- 3 distinction to words, as the types and language of the i passions, and all internal emotions, in the same way as . articulate sounds, are the types and language of ideas, ■: independent of any such emotions. But when we come i to examine the powers of each in their full extent, we I shall find, that though words are limited to their pecu- d liar office, and never can supply the place of tones ; f yet tones, on the other hand, are not confined to their i province, but often supply the place of words, as marks p of ideas. And though the ease and distinctness with I which our ideas are marked by articulate sounds, has x made all mankind agree to use them in discourse, yet < that tones are capable in a great measure of supplying 3 their place, is clear from this; that the Chinese Ian- > guage is chiefly made up of tones, and the same indi- TONES. 91 vidual word shall have sixty different meanings, accord- ! ing to the different tones in which it is pronounced. j Here, then, it is clear, that fifty nine of the sixty ideas, are marked by tones ; for the same individual word, j pronounced exactly in the same manner, cannot pos- sibly by itself, be a clear and distinct mark, for more j than one idea. This indeed has prodigiously increas- I ed the difficulty of their language, so that it is scarce- j ly possible for strangers to acquire it ; and it is the i labour of a man's life, even among the natives, to | make himself fully master of it. Such a use of the ! tones therefore, in equal extent, has not been adopted ' by any other nation. But there are none which have it not in some degree. It is true these tones amongst us, are not annexed to words in their separate state, but only when they are ranged in sentences ; and he must be very ignorant of speech, who does not know, that the same individual words in a sentence, shall have several very different meanings according to the tones which accompany the emphasis. To the use of these tones, is owing, in a great measure, conciseness of dis- course; and the necessity of multiplying words in a language, to a degree that might make them burthen- some to the memory, is removed. Nor are these the only advantages arising to language from tones ; for by thus setting off words by tones, and making them determine their meaning, an agreeable variety may be introduced into the most abstracted and philosophical discourses, in which there is no room for the language of the passions and emotions ; and which, consequently, must occasion disgust, and soon weary attention, if de- 92 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. livered by the use of mere words, in one dull uniform tone. On the same account it is fortunate, that tones have also been made the marks of the several pauses; a and the links which unite together, the several mem- I bers of sentences and periods. But beside the use of tones in the exertion of his animal and intellectual faculties, there is another part I of man's nature which seems to be the link that joins t the other two, a great part of whose exertions, have b their very essence, so far as they are communicated 3 by the voice, in tones; I mean the fancy. — To one branch of this part of his frame, nature herself has furnished matter for a language, different in its' kind from all other, and peculiar to man ; I mean, risibility; and this matter, according to the exertions of fancy, t is to be modified into an infinity of shapes. There is a laugh of joy, and a laugh of ridicule; there is a laugh : of anger, and a laugh of contempt. Nay there are few of our passions, to which fancy cannot adapt, and associate this language. And should we trace it through all its se- veral modifications and degrees, from the loud burst of joy, to the tones belonging to the dry sneer of contempt; we should find, that an extensive, and expressive Ian- 3 guage, independent of words, belongs to this faculty h alone. Let any one who has been present at a well acted ) comedy, only reflect, how very different the sentiments, i characters, and humour have appeared, in the repre- sentation, from what was conveyed to him by the mere perusal of the words in his closet, and he will need no f other proof to shew him how necessary, and how ex- tensive a part, the tones make, of the language of fancy. : TONES. 93 From what has been said, it will sufficiently appear, i how grossly they are mistaken, who think that nothing i is essentially necessary to language, but words ; and : that it is no matter, in what tones their sentiments are uttered, or whether there be any used, so that the words are but distinctly pronounced, and with such | force of voice as to be clearly heard. For it must I be allowed, that the use of language is not merely to | communicate ideas, but also all the internal operations, I emotions, and exertions, of the intellectual, sensitive, ! and imaginative faculties of man: It must also be al- 1 lowed, that from the frame of our language, our very 1 ideas cannot be communicated, nor consequently our meaning understood, without the right use of tones ; as J many of our ideas are marked and distinguished from j each other by tones, and not words. It must further | be admitted, that the connexion or repugnance of our ideas, their relationship or disagreement, and various i dependence on each other in sentences, are chiefly pointed out by tones belonging to the several pauses. When, therefore, we reflect, that not only every thing which is pleasurable, every thing which is forcible and affecting in utterance, but also the most material point necessary to a full and distinct comprehension of "the sense of what is uttered, depends upon tones; it may well astonish us to think, that so essential a part of language, should in a civilized country be wholly neglected. Nay worse, that our youth should not only be uninstructed in the true use of these, but in the little art that is used, they should be early perverted by false rules, utterly repugnant to those which nature has 9* 94 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. clearly pointed out to us. In consequence of which, all the noble ends which might be answered in a free state, by a clear, lively, and affecting public elocution, are in a great measure lost to us. And how can it be otherwise, when we have given up the vivifying, ener- getic language, stamped by God himself upon our na- ture, for that which is the cold, lifeless work of art, t and invention of man ? and bartered that which can j penetrate the inmost recesses of the heart, for one L which dies in the ear, or fades on the sight. I should now proceed to lay down some practical rules and observations, with regard to this material ar- , ticle, but that there is another branch of language so nearly connected with this, that all rules in regard to the one, have a necessary relation to the other ; and therefore it will be both the shortest, and clearest method, to place them together in view. The branch which I mean, is that part of language which is mani- fested to sight, by the expression of the countenance and gesture : of which I shall treat in the next chapter. GESTURE. 95 CHAPTER VII. GESTURE. | As nature has annexed tones to the passions, to make | their exertions known through the ear; so has she as- j sociated to them looks and gestures, to manifest them | to the eye. The one, may be justly called the speech, I the other, the hand-writing of nature. And her hand- writing, like her speech, carries evident marks with it, of its divine original; as it corresponds exactly to its archetype, and is therefore universally legible, with- out pains or study ; and as it contains in itself a power, of exciting similar, or analogous emotions. Not like the writing of man, which having no affinity with its archetype, can be understood only by pains and labor; and containing no virtue of its own, can of itself, com- municate no emotion. Nor is the written language of nature less expressive, or less copious, than her speech. They seem nicely suited to each other, in degree and power; in their effects exactly similar, having no other difference, but what arises from the difference of the organs, through which they are conveyed. As every passion has its peculiar tone, so has it, its peculiar look or gesture. And in each, the several degrees are marked, with the nicest exactness. Both indeed proceeding from the touching of one master-string, internal feeling, must always answer to each other, if I may so speak, in 96 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. perfect unison. Thus far they are equal in point of ex- pression, and with respect to copiousness; as it has been before observed, that the human voice is furnish- ed with an infinite variety of tones, suitable to the in- finite variety of emotions in the mind ; so are the hu- man countenance and limbs, capable of an infinite variety of changes, suitable to the tones ; or rather to the emotions, whence they both take their rise. To this purpose every nobler organ in man's complicated t frame, and the whole animal economy contribute. The muscles, nerves, the blood and animal spirits, all are li at work to shew internal commotion. The contraction or remission of the solids, shewn by courageous exer- *. tion of action, or pusillanimous trembling ; the rushing or withdrawing of the fluids, seen in blushing or pale- ness ; are strong and self-evident characters. But of y all the organs, the eye, rightly called the window of jt the soul, contains the greatest variety, as well as dis- \ tinction and force of characters. In rage it is inflamed, fi in fear it sickens; it sparkles in joy, in distress it is ; clouded. Nature has indeed annexed to the passions | of grief, a more forcible character than any other, that of tears ; of all parts of language, the most expressive. \ And justly was this extraordinary sign of passion, an- nexed to the nature of man ; the child of sorrow, and inhabitant of the vale of wo: not only to ease the burthened heart, but more powerfully to excite his fel- low creatures to pity, and to relieve his distress. Thus, at once affording balm to the afflicted, and inciting i mankind to the exercise of their noblest quality, be nevolence. On which account, this single character, GESTURE. 97 j sums up in it the whole power of language ; and in j certain circumstances, has more force alone, than all | the united endeavors, of words, tones, and gestures, ' can come up to. Such were the precious drops that ! fell from Milton's Eve, which Adam kissed away ; as gracious signs of sweet remorse, And pious awe, that feared to have offended. But though in this written language of nature, she has given such forcible, and distinct characters, to all the animal passions of man, and proportionally to such as have a near affinity to them, or are blended with jthem; yet she has laid down the same law, with re- gard to the visible signs of the exertions and emotions of all his nobler faculties, as she has done with regard to the tones. In both she has furnished the means with equal liberality; but has left it to the invention and care of man, to make a right use of them, and ap- ply them in suitable degrees. By the exertion of such skill and pains, it would be found that the visible lan- guage alone, which can he shewn in the features and limbs of man, is of itself sufficient, without other aid, to every purpose of social communication. To in- stance only in two articles, the eyes, and hands ; what inward emotion is there which cannot be manifested by these? Do not the eyes discover humility, pride, cruelty, compassion, reflection, dissipation, kindness, resentment ? Is there an emotion of fancy, is there a shade of ridicule, which they cannot represent ? Let any one who has seen Mr. Garrick perform, consider how much he was indebted to the language of his eyes, and there will be no occasion to say more, to give him 98 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. an idea of the extent and power of expression, to which i that language may be brought. With respect to the power of the hands, every one knows that with them, we can demand, or promise; call, dismiss; threaten, supplicate; ask, deny; shew joy, sorrow, detestation, fear, confession, penitence, I admiration, respect; and many other things now in common use. But how much farther their powers! might be carried, through our neglect of using them ' we little know. And indeed the extensiveness of this i visible language, would scarce gain credit with us, ] notwithstanding all the accounts of it handed down : from antiquity, particularly with respect to the mutes, i had we not instances of natural deaf mutes, now living, i who have been compelled to the study and practice of ) this language, through the misfortune of having been born without the sense of hearing. Having sufficiently shewn the force and extent of this language of nature, and the absolute necessity of it to man, in order to the exertion, exercise, and mani- festation of all his nobler faculties, it may justly excite li wonder to reflect, that it has been in general so little cultivated ; and that history furnishes us with an ac- count, but of two nations, out of the great variety that u have inhabited this peopled globe since the creation, li that ever applied themselves to the regular study and li practice of it, so as to bring it to perfection. And > these were the Greeks and Romans ; who raised them- ; selves to such an height above the rest of mankind, that i when we examine their history, survey their mighty 5 works, and compare them with those of other nations, 1 GESTURE. 99 ! their proportion to the rest of the world, seems to be that of the Brobdignags to the Lilliputians. It is true that, in some other countries, this language i of signs, has in some degree prevailed ; but the differ- ence between the ancients and moderns, lies in this ; that the ancients founded all their instituted signs, on nature ; from her they drew all their stores ; fitted I them in the nicest and exactest manner to the emotions . which they were to express ; and adapted them so to ! their artificial language, that their whole delivery : formed the most complete harmony : the words, tones, I looks, and gestures, corresponding to each other, in I such a way, as that each contributed to enforce and I adorn the other ; and their united efforts exhibited the sentiments of the mind, in their full proportion and beauty. So that all mankind who saw and heard them, were charmed with the manner of their delivery, though they understood not their speech ; and partook I of their emotions, even without any communication of i their ideas. But amongst the moderns, the instituted signs of tones, gesture, &c. were not founded on na- ture, but caprice and fancy : and obtained their whole force from fashion and custom. Consequently, they had neither meaning, nor beauty to any but the natives of each country, and were totally different from each other in the several countries ; which is sufficiently known by all, who are conversant with the natives of France, Spain, and Italy. But of all nations in the world, the English seem to have the least use of this language of signs ; there being few instituted signs of | emotions, either of tones, looks, or gestures, that are 100 LESSONS ON FXOCUTION. adopted into general use. On the contrary, each indi- r vidual, either follows his own fancy in this respect, and has what is called a way of his own; or else adopts the manner of some other, who pleases his fancy, and L of whom he is altogether a mimic. From what has been said, it is apparent that no gene- f ral practical rules, I mean such as would be of any 1 efficacy, can be laid down in this respect. For gene-' 1 ral practical rules must be founded on general practice; and as there is no such standard, in this country, toj refer to, it would be in vain to lay down such rules, as cannot be explained and enforced by examples. In some points, that demand practice, as well as specula- tion, the practical part must be obtained by the imita- 1 tion of patterns, and continual exercise in that way,' till the imitation becomes perfect, and passes into a habit. But where there are no general models to be copied from, there can be no general practice, found- ed on imitation. In Greece and Rome, all the public 1 speakers, agreeing as much in the use of the same signs, or language of nature, as they did in the use of the 1 same words, or language of art; afforded general, con- ; stant, and sure patterns of imitation to others. In 1 France, Italy, and Spain, as in each country, there is an uniform, steady use of the same signs, though in af 1 more confined way, yet so far they also afford sure patterns of imitation. But in our own country, where there are scarce any traces of a general agreement in the' use of such signs, there can be no observations drawn from general practice, no rules laid down that require' explanation by examples, and no manner recommended, GESTURE. 101 which demands the aid of patterns. In this case, all that can be done is, to lay down such rules to indi- viduals, as shall enable them to avoid faults, not acquire beauties. It is in the power of rules to compass the former, the latter cannot be obtained without models and practice. I say cannot be obtained ; for to some, nature has been uncommonly bountiful; and in those who have had the good fortune to escape ill habits, a native grace will appear, beyond what could be ac- quired by art alone; but of this the instances are rare. If instances of such extraordinary gifts are few, much fewer are the examples of such as have not been cor- i rupted by custom. And indeed when these gifts are I bestowed in the most eminent degree, they are capa- ble of great improvement . by art ; so that industry is equally useful, if not equally necessary to all. It has been already observed, that as there is no common standard to be referred to, no general models (for imitation, in the use of tones and gesture; each in- dividual, either forms a manner peculiar to himself, or adopts that of some other, that strikes his fancy. Of these two ways, there can be no doubt which a man should follow. He that forms to himself a manner of his own, will probably acquire such a one as will be most consonant to his own powers and his own feel- ings. The very ease with which he falls into this, and the difficulty, as well as absurdity, of putting any constraint upon his nature, and forcing his organs, where he has no object of imitation in view, will of c course accomplish this point. But he who endeavors to adopt the manner of another, loses sight of his own 10 102 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. nature, and puts a constraint upon his organs. For men do not differ more from each other in their faces, than they do in their powers of delivery. And the same manner which is easy and agreeable in one man, becomes constrained and disgusting, when assumed by another. The reason is, that all constraint upon na- ture is instantly perceived, as it produces affectation, and of course destroys true feeling ; for it is as impos- sible, where affectation takes place in the manner of delivery, or in the signs of inward emotions, that the feelings of the heart should be excited, as that two ' musical strings, not in unison, should vibrate to each other, when one only is struck. Fantastical emotions will produce fantastical signs, and fantastical signs, by reaction, will produce fantastical emotions. Both, hav- ing their rise in the imagination, may operate upon the fancy, and produce effects there, but never can ' reach the heart; as all communication between them ' is necessarily cut off by affectation. Thus the fan- cied operations of the spirit, in the people called Qua- : kers, manifested by the most unnatural signs; and in some other religious sects, by a certain cant, and ex- travagant gestures, produce powerful effects on the J j imaginations of such hearers as are bred up in the persuasion that such signs are the language of the spirit: But it must be evident, upon observing both the preachers and their auditory, that it is only the imagination which is so wrought upon ; as there is no I discovering in their countenances any signs which are the natural concomitants of the feelings of the heart. ' GESTURE. . 103 This sort of language of emotions, therefore, is well calculated to make enthusiasts, but not believers. In such a situation of things, the rule by which all public speakers are to guide themselves is obvious and easy. Let each, in the first place, avoid all imitation of others; let him give up all pretensions to art, for it is certain that it is better to have none, than not enough; and no man has enough, who has not arrived at such a perfection of art, as wholly to conceal his art ; a thing not to be compassed but by the united endeavors of the best instruction, perfect patterns, and constant prac- tice. Let him forget that he ever learned to read ; at least, let him wholly forget his reading tones. Let him speak entirely from his feelings ; and they will find much truer signs to manifest themselves by, than he could find for them. Let him always have in view what the chief end of speaking is ; and he will see the necessity of the means proposed to answer the end. The chief end of all public speakers is to persuade ; and in order to persuade, it is above all things neces- sary, that the speaker should at least appear, himself to believe what he utters ; but this can never be the case, where there are any evident marks of affectation, or art. On the contrary, when a man delivers himself in his usual manner, and with the same tones and ges- ture that he is accustomed to use when he speaks from his heart ; however awkward that manner may be, however ill-regulated the tones, he will still have the advantage of being thought sincere ; which, of all others, is the most necessary article towards securing atten- 1Q4 .LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. tion and belief; as affectation of any kind, is the sur- 7 est way to destroy both. y In elocution, the two great articles are, force, and , grace ; the one has its foundation chiefly in nature, the \ other in art. When united, they mutually support each other; when separated, their powers are very differ- ent. Nature can do much without art; art but little without nature. Nature, assaults the heart ; art, plays upon the fancy. Force of speaking, will produce emotion and conviction; grace, only excites pleasure } and admiration. As the one is the primary, and the |j other but a secondary end of speech, it is evident, that j, where one or the other is wholly to take place, the B former should have the preference. Grace in elocu- tion, is very difficult to attain in the present state jj of things. Force of delivery, is the necessary result of a clear head, and warm heart; provided no bad L habits interfere, and the speaker suffers his manner to b be regulated wholly by his feelings and conceptions. , This point being allowed, it is evidently in the pow- er of every one, to deliver himself with such force, and acquire such a reputation for speaking, as he is en- titled to by his natural talents. There are few public j. speakers who have not two kinds of delivery ; one for public, the other for private use. The one, artificial [ and constrained; the other, natural and easy. There j, is, therefore, nothing more required, than to change onei manner for another; to unlearn the former, and substi- , tute the latter in its room ; of which, each individual is already master. Had he indeed a new manner to acquire, as well as to get rid of the old, the difficulty GESTURE. 105 would be great; but when he has only to unlearn a bad habit, and has another ready to substitute in its j room, it requires nothing but attention, and regular in- 1 formation of his errors, when he falls into them. I know the objection ready to be started against this i method is, what has been already mentioned, that if I every one follows his own manner, the faults belonging I to that manner, must of course accompany his delivery. 'Tis granted ; and it were to be wished, that a way were i opened by which speakers might be cured of all faults, | in all the parts of delivery ; but as this is impossible, | without the aid of masters ; and since through want of I masters, faults there must be; the question is, whether a j person should take up with his own, or those of another ? A man's own faults, sit easy on him ; habit has given them the air of being natural; those of another, are not assum- ed without awkwardness, they are evidently artificial. Where truth is concerned, the very faults of a speaker, I which seem natural, are more agreeable to the hearer than such beauties as are apparently borrowed ; in the same manner as the most indifferent natural complexion, is preferred by those whose taste is not corrupted, to the finest painted skin. It is often seen, that the mo- tions and address of a man awkwardly formed, appear more graceful, on account of their ease, than those of the best shaped, who ape the manner of others, and who shew an evident attention to their deportment; for that must always be the case of copyists. The office of a public speaker is, to instruct, to please, and to move. If he does not instruct, his dis- course is impertinent; and if he does not please, he 10* 106 LESSONS ON ELOCUTION. will not have it in his power to instruct, for he will not gain attention ; and if he does not move, he will not please, for where there is no emotion, there can be no pleasure. To move, therefore, should be the first great object of every public speaker ; and for this purpose, he must use the language of emotions, not that of ideas alone, which of itself has no power of moving. It is evident, in the use of the language of emotions, that he who is properly moved, and at the same time delivers himself in such tones as delight the ear with their harmony, accompanied by such looks and gestures as please the eye with their grace, whilst the understanding also perceives their proprie- ty; is in the first class, and must be accounted a mas- ter. In this case, the united endeavors of art and nature produce that degree of perfection which is in no other way to be obtained in any thing that is the workmanship of man. Next to him, is the speaker, who gives way to his emotions, without thinking of regulating their signs ; and trusts to the force of nature, unsolicitou about the graces of art. And the worst, is he, who uses tones and gestures which he has borrowed from others, and which, not being the result of his feelings, are likely to be misapplied, and to be void of proprie- ty, force, and grace. But he who is utterly without all language of emotions, who confines himself to the mere utterance of words, without any concomitant signs, is not to be classed at all amongst public speak- ers. The very worst abuse of such signs, is prefera- ble to a total want of them; as it has at least a strong- er resemblance to nature. PART SECOND. I INSTRUCTIONS AND CRITICISMS READING OF THE CHURCH SERVICE. INSTRUCTIONS AND CRITICISMS READING OF THE CHURCH SERVICE. SHERIDAN'S ADDRESS TO THE CLERGY. You cannot but be sensible of the general clamour, which has, at all times, been raised against the very bad manner in which the service of the church is too often administered. The blame of this has been con- stantly thrown upon you by the laity; who charge you with neglect, and want of taking proper pains to quali- fy yourselves for executing this important part of your duty. In the course of this work I have fully exoner- ated you from that charge ; as however desirous you might be to make yourselves masters of it, the means were not in your power ; for having no lights to guide you in your researches, you were each obliged to con- tinue in that manner of delivery, which you had ac- quired in your early days, and which custom had es- tablished too firmly to be altered without assistance. But this excuse will now no longer avail you. The means of acquitting yourselves, with propriety at least, in the discharge of that part of your office, are so clear- ly laid open, that a person of a very moderate capaci- ty may attain it, by the application of one mcteth only ; ^H 110 ON READING, &c. and such as are desirous of excelling in that way, may compass their end, in proportion to their natural pow- ers of delivery, and the pains they shall take, accord- ing to the method here proposed. Such of the clergy as shall hereafter neglect to make use of the means of information now offered to them, i will be considered as inexcusable ; and their faults can j no longer escape notice, as they will all now be obvi- r ous to their hearers ; for it is probable that this work , will be very generally read by the laity, to whom, in other respects, it will be found equally useful and ne- \ cessary. i If my Lords the Bishops would pitch upon this book 5 as part of their examination for holy orders, and make ,1 propriety of reading, in all future candidates, an es- t\ sential requisite to their admission into that sacred of- i fice, they would do a more real service to the cause of j religion, than the most celebrated of their order ever have done by their polemical writings. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. ' \ There is not any thing which can shew the low state [ of the Art of Reading among us, in a stronger light, than the general complaint, that the service of the I church is so seldom delivered with propriety. At first view, one would be apt to imagine, that in the settled service, open to all to be studied and examined at lei- sure, every one, by suitable pains, might make himself ! master of the proper manner of reading it. It is this I mistaken notion, which makes the laity so forward to | lay the blame at the door of such of the clergy, as do I not perform this part of the office well ; attributing it wholly to neglect, and the want of taking proper pains. Whereas the true cause of the defect, is, the erroneous manner in which all are taught to read, by persons ut- terly disqualified for the office. They are originally I set wrong upon principle, and yet think themselves right. How is it possible therefore, that they should set about amending faults, of which they are not con- scious ? And when this faulty manner has taken root, by custom and a length of years, how difficult, nay impossible would it be, even supposing they were made conscious of it, to change such habits, without the assis- tance of skilful persons, to point out the particulars in which they are faulty, and shew how they are to be amended. And where are such to be found? As to any information they might receive from their friends or acquaintance, they would be but little the better for it ; as they probably are as unskilled in the art, and 112 ON READING deficient in the practice, as themselves ; even suppos- ! ing they were willing to give th£m such information. But it is well known how backward men are to perform the task of censors upon any habits of their friends, j unless called upon to do so. And the man who wants such information, from a consciousness of his deficien- cy, is yet restrained from applying for it, by a false shame; considering it as a disgrace to acknowledge that he did not know how to read, at that time of life. ' For this is the light in which they consider it, con- founding under one term, two very distinct things, that ' of mere reading, and reading well. In learning to read, 1 two very dhfereut ends may be proposed. The ose, 1 that of silent reading, to enable us to understand au- J thors, and store our minds with knowledge ; the other, that of reading aloud, by which we may communicate the sentiments of authors to our hearers with perspi- cuity and force. All our pains have been employed 5 in accomplishing the former end; and with regard to : the latter, we are either set wrong by false rules, or left wholly to chance. Now if it were known that to arrive at perfection in the art of reading in the latter 1 sense, would require much time and pains, even sup- posing it were taught by a regular system of rules and skilful masters ; surely it could never be consider- 1 ed as a disgrace to any one to be deficient in such an art, who, far from having precepts to guide, or masters \ to teach him, should be misled by false lights, in the very first principles of the theory, and corrupted by bad examples in the practical part. For the benefit of such as are desirous of getting rid of their bad habits, THE CHURCH SERVICE. 113 and discharging that important part of the sacred office, the reading of the liturgy, with due decorum, I shall first enter into a minute examination of some parts of the service, and afterwards deliver the rest, accompa- ! nied with such marks, as will enable the reader, in a i short time, and with moderate pains, to make himself I master of the whole. And though this may seem to j be chiefly calculated for the use of the clergy, yet it j will be found the very best lesson that could be given j to all others, in the art of reading. In making my i comments, I shall not select passages from different [ parts of the service, but take them in their order as i they lie in the Prayer-book, beginning with some of I the texts that are usually read before the exhortation. But first it will be necessary to explain the marks which you will hereafter see throughout the remainder of this work. They are of two kinds ; one, to point out the emphatic words, for which purpose I shall use the grave accent of the Greek | ]. The other, to point out the different pauses or stops, for which I shall use the following marks : For the shortest pause, marking an incomplete sense, a small inclined line, thus | 1 For the second, double the time of the former, two [ " ] And for the third or full stop, three [ '" ] When I would mark a pause longer than any belonging to the usual stops, it shall be by two horizontal lines, as thus [ = ] When I would point out a syllable that is to be dwelt on some time I shall use this mark [ — ] or a short horizontal over the syllable. 11 114 ON READING When a syllable should be rapidly uttered, this [ y ] or a curve turned upwards; the usual marks of long and short quantity in prosody. The reason for my using new marks for the stops, is this. They who have been accustomed to associate reading notes to the stops, will, on the sight of them, be apt to fall into their old habit; and as the new marks are free from such association of ideas, they will be more likely to be guided in all the changes of their voice by the sense only. THE CHURCH SERVICE. H5 CHAPTER I. THE ORDER FOR DAILY MORNING PRAYER. As the first necessary step towards getting into a good habit, is to get rid of a bad one, I shall point out the faults that are usually committed in reading the ser- vice, and afterwards propose the amendments. SENTENCES OF SCRIPTURE AT THE BEGINNING OF PUBLIC WORSHIP. From these it will be sufficient to select the last two by way of examples. I have often heard the following verse read in this manner. " Enter not into judgment with thy se rvant O Lord, for in thy sight shall no man living be justified." Here the words, not, servant, sight, justified, between which it is impossible to find any connexion, or depend- ence of one on the other, are principally marked. By these false emphases, the mind is turned wholly from the main purport and drift of the verse. Upon hear- ing an emphasis upon not, it expects quite another con- clusion to make the meaning consistent ; and instead of the word for, which begins the latter part of the sentence, it would expect a but ; as Enter no't into 116 ON READING judgment with thy servant O Lord, but regard me with an eye of mercy. When it hears the emphasis on ser- vant, it expects also another conclusion ; as, Enter no v t into judgment with thy servant O Lord, but enter into judgment with those who are not thy servants. And by the emphasis on the words sight , and justified, the true meaning is not conveyed. But if read in the fol- lowing manner, c Enter not into judgment with thy servant O Lord" for' in th'y sight' shall no man li ving be justified' — the whole meaning becomes obvious, and i we see that there is a great deal more implied, than the mere words would express, without the aid of pro- per emphasis. 'Enter nut into judgment with thy servant' O Lord'" — That is, enter not, O Lord, into the severi- ty of judgment with thy servant — c for' in thy sight' — which is all-piercing, and can spy the smallest blemish [ — c shall no man living be justified' — No man on earth, no not the best, shall be found perfect, or sufficiently pure, to stand the examination of the eye of purity itself. b Upon this sentence thus pronounced, the following beautiful passage in Job, may be a comment. " How then can man be justified with God, or how f can he be clean that is born of woman ? Behold even to the moon, and it shineth not ; yea the stars are not pure in his sight. How much less, man, that is a worm, and the son of man, which is a worm." The following sentence is often read in this faulty manner. THE CHURCH SERVICE. H7 " If we say that we have no si V we deceive ourselves' and the truth is not in us" but if we confess our sins' God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins' and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." " If we say that we have no si n." Here by laying the strong emphasis on the word say we are led to a wrong meaning, as if we only said it with our lips, but did not think so. How then can the conclusion follow of deceiving ourselves ? We may deceive others by saying what is false, but it is only by thinking falsely, we can deceive ourselves. Which is the true meaning of the words properly pronounced. " Ff we say that we have no sin', we deceive ourselv'es' 1 that is, i v f there be any among us, so vainly blind to their own faults, as to imagine they are without sin, they deceive themselves. This sentence is not an affirma- tive one, but conditional. It does not say that there are any such amongst us, but, if there be any such ; and, therefore, the conditional particle z/, is, in this case, emphatical. " Ff we say that we have no si V we deceive ourselv es — and the truth is not in u V Here is another fault committed in laying the empha- sis on the words in us only, whilst the word " truth," which is the important one, is slightly passed over. " And the truth is not in us." That is, the opinion entertained of ourselves is false. This strong empha- sis laid only on the words in u's, is the more unpardon- able in those who lay such an emphasis on the word 11* 118 0N READING " say," because it by no means follows that the truth i is not in us because we say otherwise : a man may j] think the truth, and say the contrary : and this very i phrase proves the meaning of the text as before ex- 1 plained, that it relates to thinking, nut saying ; as it i expressly says, the truth is not in us, that is, we think -\ falsely. . jt " But if we confess our si ns." — Here again the false emphasis is laid on the word sins, whilst the principal j) circumstance, that of confessing is slightly passed c over. " But if we confers our sins" — that is, if upon (j a thorough self-examination, after having discovered [ our sins, we make an humble acknowledgement of p them, with a contrite heart, and a thorough desire and z intention of reforming; (for all this is implied in the t word confess, as no other sort of confession can be of ) any avail towards obtaining the grace promised.) How jj emphatical, therefore, ought this word to be, which { implies so much ! i There is another word in this sentence which is hurried over as if it were a mere particle, when in ji this place it is a word of strong import ; I mean the ! r < word but. It is usually read " but if we confess our ° sins," as if it w ere a mere disjunctive particle. Where- i as, but in this situation stands in the place of the words i on the other hand, as may be perceived by reading the t two members of the sentence and uniting them by ji those words. " Ff we say that we have no si n, we i deceive ourselves, and the truth is not i'n us ; on the : other hand, if we confers our sins." — cc But" therefore, ( standing in the place of words, should be emphatical, i THE CHURCH SERVICE. \\ 9 as all particles are when they are substituted in the place of words. " But if we confess our sins God is faithful and just to forgive us our si ns." Who is faith- ful and just to forgive us our sins? Could any one conceive that it is the great God of the universe who is here spoken of in so slight a way ? Throughout the whole service, indeed, the awful name of God is by some treated so familiarly, and so little distinguished \ from any particle of three letters, as must give great ! offence to pious ears. It is said of the great Robert ! Boyle, that he never mentioned the name of God, even ! in private discourse, without making a perceptible I pause after it. How much more would this practice j become those who are engaged in the solemn act of public worship, and how much would it add to the so- lemnity of that worship ? It is manifestly proper that, in reading this sentence, the voice should dwell with devotional emphasis upon the word God, and that it I should be preceded and followed by a perceptible pause. " Ff we confess our sins' God' is faithful and : jVst to forgiVe us our sins, &c." These last words are j generally as improperly read as the rest. The chief emphasis is here also, often placed on the word sin's, which not only mars the sense, but produces a sad cacaphonia, very disagreeable to the ear, by the three successive emphases on the word " sins" in the same sentence. As, " if we say that we have no sin' we de- ceive ourselves' and the truth is not in us" but if we confess our si ns' God is faithful and just to forgive us our si ns &c." The want of laying the proper empha- sis on the word confess, in the former part of the sen- 120 ON READING tence, produces the same mistake in not laying it right on the word forgive in the latter, as the one is a con- i sequence of the other. If we confess our sins, God will forgive our sins. The words " faithful" and "just," by being hurried over, lose their whole force and import. When pro- perly pronounced, there is implied in them by means , of emphasis, that God has entered into a covenant with man that, upon confession and repentance, he will forgive him his sins, through the atonement of Christ : his faithfulness and justice, therefore, are both pledged for the fulfilment of this covenant. " God' is faithful I and ju'st, to forgive us our sinV and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." Here the emphasis on the word " unrighteousness," ] is as unfortunately placed, as any of the others. For 2 the emphasis ought to be stronger both on the words \ " cleanse" and " all ;" the meaning of the sentence, j being that, God, upon our confession and repentance, j will not only forgive our sins, but likewise cleanse us, . not from unrighteousness only, but from all unrighte- * ousness. He will thoroughly purify us. Having thus, very minutely pointed out the various errors so com- • monly committed in reading this sentence, — I shall - now mark it in the manner in which it is usually read, 3 and then, in what I apprehend to be the right way of r reading it, that the difference may be the more ap- j parent. If we say that we have no si n' we deceive our- \ selves', and the truth is not in us" but if we confess THE CHURCH SERVICE. 121 our sin's' God is faithful and just to forgive us our sin's' and to cleanse us from all unrig'hteousnes. Now in the other. Ff we say that we have no sin' we deceive our- selves' and the truth is not in us" but' if we confess our sins' God' is faithful' and ju'st' to forgiVe us our sins' and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. THE EXHORTATION. The Exhortation I have often heard delivered in the following manner : ■o "Dearly beloved brethren, the scripture moveth us in sundry places to acknowledge and confess our manifold sins and wickedness. And that we should not dissemble nor cloak them before the face of Almighty God our Heavenly Father, but confess them with an humble lowly penitent and obedient heart, to the end that we may obtain forgiveness of the I same, by his infinite goodness and mercy. And although we ought at all times humbly to acknowledge our si us before God, yet ought we chiefly so to do when we assemble and meet together. To render thanks for the great benefits we have received at his hands, to set forth his most worthy praise, to hear his most holy word, and to ask those things which 122 ON READING are requisite and necessary as well for the body ' as the soul. Wherefore I pray and beseech you as many as are here present, to accompa- ny me with a pure heart and humble voice to , the throne of the heavenly grace, saying." In the beginning of this exhortation, we usually find, k that the clergyman's eye is fixed on the book, and that ( he utters the words as mere matter of form; but, sure- ( ly, the truly Christian and affectionate address, with |* which it commences, from a pastor to his flock, ought \i to be made with earnestness, and his eyes looking I round the whole congregation. ' Dearly beloved bre- i thren!'=And then there should a pause of some length \ ensue, to give them time to collect themselves, and i awaken their attention to the solemn duty they are ji about to perform. Whereas, in the other way, when k the eye is on the book, the congregation cannot feel it as an immediate address to them ; especially when they I find that there is no pause after this address, but that i he immediately runs on to the next sentence, which It has no connexion with it, misled by the false pointing ( of a comma after the words, £ Dearly beloved brethren,' I which ought to have been marked by what is called a fc point of admiration. In the latter part of the first pe- |i riod, * but confess them with an humble lowly penitent u and obedient heart, to the end that we may obtain, for- \ giveness of the same, by his infinite goodness and u mercy' — there are several faults committed. In the i first place, the four epithets preceding the word heart, r, THE CHURCH SERVICE. 123 are huddled together, and pronounced in a monotone, disagreeable to the ear, and enervating to the sense; whereas each word rising in force above the other, ought to be marked by a proportional rising of the notes in the voice ; and, in the last, there should be such a note used as would declare it at the same time to be the last — c with an humble' lowly' penitent' and obedient heart, &c.' At first view it may appear, that the w T ords humble and lowly, are synonimous ; but the word lowly, certainly implies a greater de- gree of humiliation than the word humble. The word, penitent, that follows, is of stronger import than either ; and the word, obedient, signifying a per- fect resignation to the will of God, in consequence of our humiliation and repentance, finishes the climax. But if the climax in the words, be not accompanied by a suitable climax in the notes of the voice, it can- not be made manifest. In the following part of the sentence, ' to the en v d that we may obtain' forgiveness of the same' there are usually three emphases laid on the words, end, obtain, same, where there should not be any, and the only emphatic word, forgiveness, is slightly passed over ; whereas it should be read — 6 to the end that we may obtain forgiveness of the same,' keeping the words, obtain and forgiveness, closely together, and not disuniting them, both to the pre- judice of the sense and cadence. The following words, ' by his infinite goodness and mercy,' lose much of their force, by the manner of repeating them; whereas, by interjecting a pause between the words, his, and infinite, as, c by his' infinite goodness ^ 124 ON READING and mercy' we not only pay the proper reverence due, to the Deity, whenever he is mentioned, but there is|> superadded, by this means, a force to the word, infi^ nite, coming- after the pause, which alone can make us have an adequate conception of those attributes in Him, whose mercy endureth forever — { by his' infinite , goodness and mercy.'— ' And although we ought at allk times' — Here the accent of the word, although, is 3 changed,. and put on the first syllable, although; and this syllable being pronounced in the same quantity as, the word all, which follows soon after, occasions a repetition of the same sound so suddenly, as to be. disagreeable to the ear; and the want of the due^ change of note on the word all, obscures the sense — ' and although we ought at all times' — whereas, in the , right way of pronouncing it, and c although we ought at all times' — the repetition of the same sound is j avoided, and the following meaning is evidently im- plied ; though we should embrace every opportunity, when we are alone, and in private meditation, to con- : fess our sins before God, yet ought we chiefly so to do, when we assemble and meet together, to join in acts of public worship. Here, also, there is often an [ unfortunate emphasis on the word, so, instead of the word, chiefly, 'yet ought we chiefly so to do, &c.' [ and this arises from not giving the due emphasis to to the word, all, in the former part of the sentence, which would have shewn the necessity of giving a correspondent force to the word, chiefly, in the latter. 4 And although we ought at all times' humbly to ac- knowledge our sins before God" yet ought we chiefly , THE CHURCH SERVICE. 125 so to do' when we assemble and meet together to ren- | der thanks' for the great benefits that we have receiv- ! ed at his hands, &c.' Nothing is more frequent than i to give the tone of a full stop at the end of the former part of this sentence, as thus — ' yet ought we chiefly j so to do when we assemble and meet together. 5 What, at any time, in assemblies of amusement and | festivity ? No, it is only when we assemble and meet i together, to render thanks for the great benefits we have received at his hands, &c In this, and what i follows, a distinct enumeration is made, of the seve- ral parts whereof the public worship is composed. To render thanks for the great benefits that we have received at his hands" Thanksgiving. To set forth his most worthy praise" by psalms and hymns. To hear his most holy loord" in the Lessons. And to ask those things that are requisite and necessary, as well for the body as the soul" the prayers. On which account, the several sentences containing the distinct parts of the service, ought to be kept more detached from each other, than they usually are ; and the words pe- culiarly expressive of each branch of the service, should chiefly be made emphatical. c To render tha nks' for the great benefits that we have received at his hands" to set forth his most worthy praise" to hear' his most holy wo'rd ' and to a N sk those things' which are requisite' and necessary' as well for the body' as the soul"" Whereas, in the usual way of running these sentences into one another, the auditor I has no time to observe the distinctness of the parts ; ! and I believe it has seldom occurred to any one, that 12 126 ON READING in these four sentences, are separately enumerated l| the four capital branches of the church service. I c Wherefore I pray and beseech you as many as are here present' — This is the way in which that passage is usually delivered; but, surely a more particular and personal address, would have more force to call up attention, than this vague and general one; which will be done only by placing the emphasis on the ' word, you. ' Wherefore I pray and beseech you' as many as are here present, &c.' That is, I pray and be- seech all of you, and each individual of you, here pre- sent, to accompany me, &c. for that is what is im- plied in the words c as many as are here present :' it is addressing them in detail, each individual of the num- ber there present ; and if these words be not taken in that sense, they are a mere tautology ; for if they had only a general meaning, like the word i/ow, they would express nothing more than what had been already done by that word. I shall now read the whole, in the manner I have recommended ; and if you will give attention to the marks, you will be reminded of the manner, when you come to practise in your private reading. " Dearly beloVed brethren !=The scripture moveth us' in su ndry places' to acknowledge and confess our manifold sins and wickedness" and that we should not dissemble nor cloak them before the face of Almighty God' our Heavenly Father" but confess them' with an THE CHURCH SERVICE. 127 humble' lowly' penitent' and obedient heart' to the end that we may obtain forgiveness of the same' by his' infinite goodness and mercy"' And although we ought at all times' humbly to acknowledge our sins before Go d" yet ought we chiefly so to do' when we assemble and meet together' to render tha nks' for the great benefits w T e have received at his hands" to set forth' his most worthy praise" to hear' his most holy word" and to ask those things' which are requisite and necessary' as well for the body' as the soul'" Wherefore' I pray and beseech you' as many as are here present' to accompa- ny me' with a pure heart' and hu'mble voice' unto the throne of the heavenly grace' saying " GENERAL CONFESSION. Now to examine the Confession in the same way. 'Almighty and most merciful Father.'— -Hera the greatest stress is usually laid on the word, Father; whereas it ought to be on the attribute, merciful. We are making a confession of our sins, and imploring pardon for them of God ; and it is upon the greatness of his mercy, that we presume to approach him in this manner, or to hope for pardon ; which is implied in the words properly read — c Almighty and most mer- ciful Father 5 — Another fault here committed, is the dropping the vo'ce at the end, as if it were a full stop ; 128 ON READING whereas, it is evidently an incomplete member of a sentence, as would appear if it were immediately fol- lowed by the subsequent one, which belongs to it, without the reader's being interrupted by the congre- gation. But that interruption ought to make no change in the proper manner of delivering it, which should be in a sustained note, and which the reader would use were he to continue it without such interruption. ' Almighty and most merciful Father' we have erred and strayed from thy ways' like lost sheep.' These last two words are often run into one another, and pronounced as if they were but one ; instead of c like lost sheep,' it is read, like losssheep.' c We have fol- lowed too muc'h the devices and desires of our own hearts.' Here by laying the stress on the word, much, there is no more implied, but that we have given way to our inclinations more than we should do ; and that, may admit of being interpreted, but in a small degree. But when it is repeated thus — t We have followed too much' the devices and desires of our own hearts' it implies, in a great degree, there are no boundaries iiscd to our wanderings; and not only so, but the tone of voice accompanying that emphasis, includes at the same time self condemnation, and contrition. c We have followed too much' the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against thy holy laws. We have left undo ne those things which we ought to have do'ne ; and we have do ne those things which we ought not to have do ne.' In which way of reading, the repetition of the word, done, four times in so short a space, and in the same tone, is at THE CHURCH SERVICE. 129 once disagreeable to the ear, and obscures the mean- ing. But in the right way of reading it — * We have left u ndone those things which we ou v ght to have done" and we have done those things' which we ought no v t to have done'" The two emphases placed on the two negatives, make the word, done, with which they are connected, pass unnoticed by the ear; and the different notes of voice, used to the same word, twice repeated in one sentence, give at once an agreeable variety to the ear, and enforce the meaning upon the understanding. Which is no more than this ; ' We have left u ndone' what we ought to have do ne ; j and we have done' what we ought no't to have done. And there is no health in us.' In this way the stress is improperly laid upon in* and the important word, health, is passed over unmarked. It should be read — c and there is no heaPth in us. — But thou O Lord have mercy upo n us miserable offenders.' In this way of | running the words of the invocation into one another, ; all reverence to the Deity is lost. — l But thou O Lord,' Whereas, by interjecting a small pause before the im- mediate address to him by name, and at the same time lowering the voice, in token of respect, the manner would be such, as alone can become a creature, ad- dressing his Creator. c But thou' O Lord' have mer- cy upo'n us miserable offenders"" In these words, here, as well as in all other places where they are repeated, it is usual to lay the emphasis on the insig- nificant word, upon, instead of the important one, mercy; by saying, — c have mercy upon us' — instead of ' have me'rcy upon us miserable offenders.' — 12* 1 30 ON READING The difficulty of reading the Liturgy with spirit, and even with propriety, is somewhat peculiar, on ac- count of the inveterate and long established faults to which almost every one's ears are become so familiar; so that such a delivery as would shock any one of even moderate taste, in any other composition, he will, in this, be likely to tolerate, and to practise. Some read, " have mercy upon us, miserable offend- ers," and others, " have mercy upon us, miserable offenders ;" both laying the stress on a wrong word, ' and making the pause in the wrong place, so as to disconnect "us" and "miserable offenders," which the context requires us to combine. Every one, in expressing his own natural sentiments would say ] " have mercy upon us-miserable-offenders." > c Spare thou those O God who confess their faults.' i In the first part of the sentence, the words, thou those, j when run too closely together, have a bad effect on , the ear. ' Spare thou those' — which may be avoid- ed by a small separation of those words ; as, Spare thou' those' O God' who confers their faults. — Restore thou those who are penitent.' Here is a repetition of the same words, thou those, which has still a worse ef- • feet on the ear, and is to be remedied in the same way. ' Restore thou' those who are pe'nitent. According | to thy promises' declared unto mankind in Christ Jesus our Lord'" And grant O most merciful Father for his sake' — Here we have another instance of the want of respect to the Deity, by not making the pro- per pause before the immediate address to him ; and indeed the same may be observed throughout the THE CHURCH SERVICE. J 31 i whole service. It should be read thus : And grant' I most meVciful Father' for his sake' that we may hereafter' live a go v dly' righteous' and sober life" to 1 the glory of thy holy name. I shall now insert the confession marked as I think it ought to be read. Almighty and most merciful Father' we ; have er red and strayed from thy ways' like lost | sheep'" We have followed too much the de- | vices and desires of our own hearts'" We have ! offe nded against thy holy laws'" We have left u ndone those things which we ought to have done" and we have done those things which we ought not to have done" and there is no health in us'" But thou' O Lord' have mercy upon us- miserable-offenders'" Spare thou' ! those' O God' who confess their faults'" Restore thou' those who are pe nitent" according to thy promises declared unto mankind' in Christ Je sus our Lord'" And grant' most merciful Father' for his sake" that we may' hereafter' live a godly' righteous' and sober life' to the glory of thy holy name'" Amen. THE ABSOLUTION. In reading the absolution, it is usual to begin it in the same manner, and tone of voice, as if it were a 132 0N READING prayer addressed to the Almighty, instead of speaking of him, and delivering a commission in his name. As thus — c Almighty God ! the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ' — instead of the authoritative tone of one speak- J ing in his name, and who has received power and com- } mandment from him, to declare his gracious pleasure to his people. The words as they stand, have indeed the same air as several prayers beginning in the same • manner : which probably has betrayed most into the J same mode of delivering them. But whoever will ' suppose them to be preceded by the article, the, which ^ is understood, as thus — The Almighty God, Father of ' our Lord Jesus Christ, &c. will immediately see the f necessity of using a tone very different from that of 1 supplication ; and will easily bring himself to the use 3 of it. — c Who desireth not the death of a si nner, but ? rather that he may tur n from his wickedness and live.' ' Here the emphasis on the words, sinner, in the first r part, and, turn from his wickedness, in the latter, ob- J scure the main purport of the sentence ; which is, The ' Almighty takes no pleasure in seeing a sinner perish jl everlastingly, (which is implied in the death of a sinner) ' but wishes rather, that by a course of penitence and re- formation, he may receive eternal life ; which is impli- J ed in the word, live. How strongly marked, therefore, E should words be of such powerful import ! c And hath ~ given power and commandment to his ministers, to ' declare and pronounce to his people being penitent' — J The words, by being thus huddled together, lose ^ much of their import and clearness. But read in the J following way — And hath given poVer' and com- THE CHURCH SERVICE. 133 mandment to his ministers" to declare' and pronounce' to his people' — the different parts of each member of the sentence, and their reference to each other are distinctly pointed out. He hath given to his ministers commandment' to declare" and power' to pronounce' the absolution of sins — upon a certain condition. Ought not the condition then, to be particularly mark- j ed and enforced, instead of being slurred over as it usually is ? < to declare and pronounce to his people being penitent the absolution, &c.' Should it not have i the solemnity of a pause, both before and after it, ac- ! companied by a lower tone of voice, to give it its due I weight ? As thus — to declare and pronounce to his [ people' being pe v nitent' the absolution' and remission of their sins. — £ He pardoneth and absolveth all those I who truly repent, &c.' Here the observation former- ly made, recurs, of the slight manner in which the Almighty is often mentioned, and which must be much more striking on this occasion, where his minister is commanded in his name, to declare his pleasure to his people, upon so important an article. Surely this cannot be done with too much solemnity, and may be effected by dwelling with a tone of reverential awe, on the relative which stands for his name, followed by a suitable pause ; thus — He" pardoneth and absolveth all those who truly repenY and unfeignedly belie Ve his holy Gospel. — c Wherefore let us beseech him to grant us true repentance, &c.' In this, as in all other places, where there is a particular address to the con- gregation, it is to be wished that it were brought more home to them, by force of emphasis on the proper 134 ON READING word; as thus — Wherefore let us beseech him to grant uV true repentance — that is, let us all who are here [ assembled, unite to beseech him that we may be made fit partakers of this covenant ; the covenant just before published to all Christians. From which each pastor takes occasion to exhort his own particular flock, earnestly to pray to God, that they may partake of it. J Many are apt even to commit so gross an error, as (I to lay the chief stress on the words which denote the D most important things ; without any consideration of i the emphatic word of each sentence : e. g. in the Ab- solution, many read, " let us beseech him to grant us true repentance ;" because, forsooth, " true repen- tance" is an important thing ; not considering that, as it has been just mentioned, it is not the new idea, and that to which the attention should be directed by the 1 emphasis ; the sense being, that since God pardoneth all that have true repentance, therefore, we should. " beseech him, to grant it to us." These are the principal faults usually committed in reading the absolution. Others of smaller note I shall not expatiate on, but leave them to each one's obser- vation, by presenting the whole in what appears to me to be the right manner of reading it. a Almighty God' the father of our Lord Je- sus Christ' who desireth not the death of a if sinner' hut rather that he may turn from his 3 wickedness' and live" hath given power' and commandment to his ministers' to declare and THE CHURCH SERVICE. 135 pronounce to his people' being penitent' the absolution and remission of their sins" He" pardon eth and absolveth all those who truly repent' and unfeignedly believe his holy gos- pel'" Wherefore' let us beseech him' to grant ifs true repentance' and his Holy Spirit' that those things may please him' which we do at this pre sent' and that the rest of our life herea fter' may be pure and holy" so that at the lasY we may come to his eternal joy' through Jesus Christ our Lord'"' LORD'S PRAYER, VERSICLE AND GLORIA PATRI. I now come to the Lord's prayer. Nothing can shew the corrupt state of the art of reading, or the power of bad habit, in a stronger light, than the man- ner in which that short and simple prayer, is general- ly delivered. In the first words of it, 'Our Father who a'rt in Heaven' — that false emphasis on the word, art, has almost universally prevailed. This strong stress upon the affirmative, art, looks as if there might be a doubt, whether the residence of God were in Heaven, or not ; and the impropriety of the emphasis will immediately appear, upon changing the word we are accustomed to, for another of the same import. For instance, should any one instead of saying — Our Father who residest in HeaVen — read — Our Father who residest in Heaven, the absurdity would be glar- 136 ON READING ing. The other consequently should be read in the same way — e Our Father' who art in Heaven 5 — with i the emphasis upon Heaven, and the voice somewhat raised. I have known a few who have seen this mis- take, and to avoid it, have run into another error, as thus — { Our Father whoart in Heaven,' making the two words, who and art, appear but as one, by too | precipitate an utterance — whoart. — They should be pronounced distinctly, but without any stress ; and I this will be accomplished in spite of habit, by frequent trials, if care be taken to reserve the emphasis for the ' word Heaven, as thus — c Our Father' who art in HeaVen' hallowed be thy nameW Thy kingdom come, ' thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.' — By ' running the words and members of the sentence thus into each other, the importance of the sentiments, and the relation which one member of the sentence bears to the other, are lost. The first, expresses a wish for the coming of the promised kingdom of Christ ; the other, a desire of the consequences to be expected from the coming of that kingdom, that the will of God may be done on Earth, as it is in Heaven ; which we are told will be the case, when Christ begins his reign. The meaning of the first, is the same as if it were written — May thy kingdom come ; but the word, may, being understood, its place should be supplied by a small pause before the word, come — e thy kingdom' come'" and after a due pause, to let so solemn a wish make its proper impression, the reason of this wish, that is, in order that the will of God may be done on Earth, as it is in Heaven, should be distinctly pointed 1 THE CHURCH SERVICE. 137 out, by a small pause before the words, on Earth, and, in Heaven, as thus — c thy kingdom' come" thy will' be done' on earth' as it iV in Heaven' — with the emphasis on the word, be, and a pause before it, to correspond with the pause and emphasis, before, and on, the word, come ; as there is the same reason for both, may, being here understood, as in the former case ; c may thy kingdom come" may thy will be done"' and upon the absence of that optative, the emphasis, in order to supply its place should be transferred to the auxiliary, be, as it is in all other cases. By reading it in the usual way, misled probably by false pointing, they make these two, detached sentences, utterly indepen- dent of each other. Whereas in the other way, the latter is a consequence of, and closely connected with, the former. c Thy kingdom' come" thy will' be done' on ea rth' as it iV in HeaVen — ' and from this read- ing only can the true meaning of the passage be dis- closed. — c Give us this da v y our daily bread' — Here the emphasis on the word, day, is unfortunately placed, both with regard to sound and sense. The ear is hurt, by the immediate repetition of the same sound, in the word daily — c Give us this day our daily bread' — And the true meaning is not conveyed ; for this is supposed to be a prayer to be daily used, and a peti- tion to be daily preferred, composed for our use by him, who bade us take no thought for the morrow ; wherefore it should be thus pronounced — c Give us thi's day' our daily brea'd" — c And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those, who trespass against us.' — There are so many faults committed, in this 13 1 38 ON READING manner of reading the sentence, that to enter into a minute examination of them, would take up too much time unnecessarily; as I apprehend that the bare reading of it in the right manner will carry conviction with it, and needs no other comment. fc And forgive us' our trespasses' a v s we' forgive those who trespass against uV I must here, however, shew the necessity there is, for laying a strong emphasis on the little word, as, which is always slurred over ; because that particle implies the very condition on which we ex- pect forgiveness ourselves, that is, in like manner as we grant it to others. There is another fault com- mitted by some, in removing the accent from the last syllable of the word, forgive, to the first; as, Give us i this day our daily bread, and fo'rgive us our trespasses, &c.' by which they seem to make an opposition be- tween the words, give and forgive, where there is none intended ; than which nothing can be more ab- surd and puerile. — c And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.' — It were to be wished, for obvious reasons, that the strong emphasis on the word, lead, were transferred to the word, temptation; in- stead of saying — ' and lead us not into temptation' — that it were read — c and lead us not into temptation, ' but deliver us from evil.' — c For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever.' — In this way of reading, the fine close of this admirable prayer, is changed in its movement, from the solemn j and majestic, to a comic and cantering pace. ' For i thine is' the kingdom' and the power' and the glory' 3 for ever' and ever.' The measure in this way, to j THE CHURCH SERVICE. 1 39 speak in the prosodial language, becomes purely am- phibrachic, used only in comic poems and ballads; whereas by making a pause after the word, thine, and separating the other members of the sentence, the movement becomes chiefly anapaestic, full of force and dignity. — 4 For thine' is the kingdom" and the power" and the glory" for ever' and ever.' I shall now read the whole in the proposed manner. c Our Father' who art in HeaVen' ha llow- ed be thy name=Thy kingdom' come" thy will' be done on earth' as it is' in HeaVen= Give us this day' our daily brea'd'" And for- give us' our trespasses' as we' forgive tho'se' who trespass against uV" And lead us not into temptation' but deliver us from evil=For thine' is the kingdom" and the power" and the glory" for ever' and ever='* \ O Lord open thou our lip's' — In this way of read- ing, the address to God seems only to be, to open our mouths, which surely does not require his interven- * Sheridan directs the following passage to be read thus ; " thy will b£ done on earth r as it iV in Heaven." with the emphasis on the words teous in thy sight' through Jesus Christ' our I Lord= A PRAYER FOR THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNIT- ED STATES, AND ALL IN CIVIL AUTHORITY. 6 Lord' our heavenly Father' the high and mighty Ruler of the universe" who dost from thy throne behold all the dwellers upon earth" most heartily we beseech thee' with thy favour | to behold' and bless thy servant' the President of the United States' and all others in authori- ty" and so replenish them with the grace of thy Holy Spirit' that they may always incline to thy will' and walk in thy way"' Endue them plenteously' with heavenly gifts" grant them in health and prosperity long to live" and finally' after this life' to attain everlasting joy and felicity' through Jesus Christ' our Lord= THE CHURCH SERVICE. 149 A PRAYER FOR THE CLERGY AND PEOPLE. Almighty' and everlasting God' from whom cometh every good and perfect gift' send down I upon our Bishops' and other Clergy' and upon the congregations committed to their charge' J the healthful spirit of thy grace" and that they i may truly please thee' pour upon them the I continual dew of thy blessing'" Grant this' O | Lord' for the honour of our advocate and me- i diator' Jesus Chr!st== A PRAYER FOR ALL CONDITIONS OF MEN. O God' the Creator and Preserver of all mankind' we humbly beseech thee' for all sorts and conditions of men' that thou wouldst be \ pleased to make thy ways known unto them' thy sa Ving health unto all nations'" More es- pe cially' we pray for thy holy Chu'rch univer- sal" that it may be so guided and governed by thy good Spirit' that all who profess and call themselves Christians' may be led into the way of truth" and hold the faith' in unity of Spirit' in the bon d of peace' and in righteousness of life'" Finally' we commend to thy Fatherly goodness' all those' who are a ny ways afflict- ed or distressed' in mind' body' or estate" that 14 . 150 ON READING it may please thee to comfort and relieve them according to their several necessities" giving them patience under their sufferings' and a happy i ssue out of all their afflictions"' And this we beg for Jesus Christ's sake. A GENERAL THANKSGIVING. Almighty God' Father of all mercies' we' thine unworthy servants' do give thee most humble' and hearty thanks for all thy good- ness and loving kindness' to us' and to all men"' We bless thee for our creation' preservation' and all the blessings of this life" but above all' for thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ' for the means of grace' and for the hope of glory"' And' we beseech thee' give us that due sense of all thy mercies' that our hearts may be unfeign- edly thankful" and that we may show forth thy praise' not only with our lips' but in our lives' by giving up ourselves to thy se rvice' and by walking before thee in holiness and righ- teousness all our days' through Jesus Christ our Lord' to whom' with thee' and the Holy Ghost' be all honour and glory' world without end'" THE CHURCH SERVICE. 151 A PRAYER OF ST. CHRYSOSTOM. Almighty God' who hast given us grace at this time' with one accord to make our com- mon supplications unto thee" and dost promise that when two or three are gathered together in thy name' thou wilt grant their requests" fulfil now' O Lord' the desires and petitions of thy servants' as may be most expedient for them" granting us' in this world' knowledge of thy truth'' and in the world to come' life everla'sting= 2 COR. XIIL 14. The grace' of our Lord Jesus Christ" and the love' of God" and the fellowship' of the Holy Ghost' be with us all' eVermore'= A few remarks only will be offered upon the fore- going prayers. In reading " a prayer of St. Chrysos- tom," it is very common to make " two, or three" the emphatic words. This faulty emphasis would lead one to suppose, that the promise quoted, was exclusive- ly applicable to very small assemblies of Christians, containing not more than two or three ; whereas, the true meaning of the promise is, that our Lord will be in the midst of all assemblies of social worshippers, whether their number be few or many. We remind 152 ON READING him of his promise, and beseech him to fulfil it by granting the petitions and desires we have now pre- sented. In pronouncing the benediction in the usual way, as thus — ' The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of Go v d, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost' — all its solemnity and force is lost. The three distinct attributes, referred to the three persons in the God- head, ought to be pointed out by the due emphasis and pauses. c The grace' of our Lord Jesus Christ" and the loVe' # of God" and the fellowship' of the Holy Ghost" be wi v th us all' evermore.' In the last part, by laying the stress upon the unimportant pre- position, with, the pious and ardent wish, included in the benediction, is lost, which can only be manifested by a forcible emphasis on the words, be, and, all, l be with us all, evermore'=on be, as expressive of the wish, which was before explained ; on all, as extend- ing the benediction to the whole, and each individual of the congregation. EVENING PRAYER. I shall now proceed to such parts of the Evening Service, as are not contained in that of the morning. CANTATE DOMINO. O Sing unto the Lord a new song" for he hath done marvellous things"' THE CHURCH SERVICE. 153 With his own right hand" and with his holy arm' hath he gotten himself the victory'" The Lord' declared his salvation" his righte- ousness hath he openly showed in the sight of j the heathen"' He hath remembered his mercy and truth ! toward the house of Israel" and all the ends of ! the world have seen the salvation of our God"' Show yourselves jo yful unto the Lord' all | ye lands' sing' rejoice' and give thanks '" Praise the Lord upon the harp" sin'g to the ! harp' with a psalm of thanksgiving"' With tru mpets' also' and shawms' O' show yourselves jo yful before the Lord the King'" Let the sea make a noise' and all that there- in is" the round wo rid' and they that dwell therein'" Let the floods clap their hands" and let the hills be joyful together before the Lord" for he cometh to judge the earth'" With ri ghteousness shall he judge the world' and the people with e quity'" BONUM EST CONFITERI. It is a good thing to give than ks unto the Lord" and to sing praises unto thy name' O Most Highest" 14* 154 ON READING To tell of thy loving-kin dness' early in the mor'ning" and of thy truth' in the ni v ght season" Upon an instrument of ten strings' and upon the lute' upon a loud instrument' and upon the \ harp" For thou' Lord' hast made me glad through thy works'' and I will rejoice in giving praise for the operations of th v y hands"' DEUS MISEREATUR. God be me rciful unto us' and ble v ss us" and show us the lig'ht of his countenance' and be merciful unto us'" That thy way may be known upon earth" thy saving health' among all nations'" Let the people praise thee' O God" yea' let all the people praise thee"' 6' let the nations rejoi'ce and be gla v d" for thou shalt judge the folk ri v ghteously' and go- vern the nations upon earth'" Let the people praise thee' O God" yea' let all the people praise thee" Then' shall the earth bring forth her in- crease' and God' even our own God' shall give us his bles'sing" God shall ble v ss us' and all the ends of the world shall fear him'" THE CHURCH SERVICE. 155 BENEDIC, ANIMA MEA. Praise the Lord' O my soul" and all that is within me' praise his holy name'" Praise the Lord' O my soul" and forget not' all his benefits" Who forgiVeth all thy si v n' and healeth all thine infirmities" Who saveth thy li v fe from destruction' and crowneth thee with mercy and loving-kin v d- tri ness O praise the Lord' ye An'gels of his' ye that excel in strength' ye that fulfi v l his command- ment' and hearken unto the voice of his wo N rd" O praise the Lord' all ye his hos v ts" ye ser- vants of his' that do his pleasure"' O speak good of the Lord' all ye works of his' in all pla'ces of his dominion"' Praise thou the Lord' O my soul'" A COLLECT FOR PEACE. O God' from whom all holy desires' all good counsels' and all just works do proceed" give j unto thy servants' that peace' which the world | canno t give" that our hearts may be set to obey thy commandments" and also' that by 156 0N READING thee' we' being defended from the fear of our e v nemies' may pass our time in rest and quiet- ness' through the merits of Jesus Christ' our Saviour= A COLLECT FOR AID AGAINST PERILS. O Lord' our heavenly Father' by whose Al- mighty power we have been preserved this day" by thy great mercy' defend us from all perils and dangers of this night' for the love of thy only Son' our Saviour' Jesus ChrTst= THE CHURCH SERVICE. 157 CHAPTER II. THE LITANY. O God the Father" of Heaven" have me rcy upon us-miserable-sinners'" God the Son" Redeemer of the world" have mercy upon us-miserable-sinners'" God the Holy Ghost" proceeding from the Father and the Son" have mercy upon us-miserable-sinners'" holy' blessed' and glorious Tri nity" three Persons' and one Go'd" have me rcy upon us- miserable-sinners== Remember not' Lord' our offences' nor the offences of our forefa thers" neither take thou ve ngeance of our sins'" Spare us' good Lord" spare thy people' whom thou hast redeemed with thy most previous bloo'd' and be not an gry with us for ever" Spare us' good Lord'" From all evil and mischief" from sin" from the era fts and assaults of the deVil" from thy wrath'' and from everlasting damnation' Good Lord deliver us'" 158 ON READING From all bli ndness of heart" from pride' vain-glory' and hypocrisy" from envy' hatred and malice" and all uncha ntableness' Good, &c. From all inordinate and sinful affections" and from all the deceits of the world' the fle W and the devil' Good Lord' deliver us'" From lightning' and te mpest" from plague' pe stilence' and famine' from ba ttle' and muV- der" and from sudden dea Xti Good, &c. From all sedition' privy conspiracy' and re- i be'llion" from all false doctrine' heresy' and schis W from hardness of heart' and contem pt of thy word and commandment' Good, &c. By' the mystery of thy holy incarnation" by' J thy holy nativity' and circumcision" by' thy i ba ptism' fa sting' and temptation' Good, &c. By thine agony and bloody swea t" by thy i cro'ss and pa'ssion" by thy pre cious death and bu rial" by thy glorious resurrection and asce n- sion" and by the coming of the Holy Ghost' Good, &c. THE CHURCH SERVICE. 159 In all time of our tribulation" in all time of our prosperity" in the hour of death" and in the day of judgment' Good Lord deliver us= =We sinners' do beseech thee to hear us' I O Lord God" and that it may please thee to | rule and govern thy holy Church universal' in I the right way" We beseech thee to hear us' good Lord'" That it may please thee to ble^ss and pre- '■ serve' all Christian Rulers and Ma gistrates" ' giving them grace to execute justice' and to , maintain truth" We, &c. That it may please thee' to illuminate all bishops' priests' and deacons' with true know- ledge and understanding of thy word" and that both by their preaching' and living' they may set it forth" and shew it accordingly'" We, fyc. That it may please thee' to bless' and keep' all thy people'" We, fyc. That it may please thee' to give to all na- tions' unity' peace' and concord'" We&c. 160 0N READING That it may please thee' to give us an heart to love' and fear thee" and diligently to liVe \j after thy commandments'" s We,