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Sir A. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please! It won't do with me, I promise you.

Capt. A. Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life. Sir A. I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know you are, you hypocritical young dog! But it won't do!

Capt. A. Nay, sir, upon my word

Sir A. So, you will fly out! Can't you be cool, like me? What good can passion do? Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent, overbearing reprobate! There, you sneer again! Don't provoke me! But you rely upon the mildness of my temper, you do, you dog! You play upon the meekness of my disposition! Yet, take care; the patience of a saint may be overcome at last! But, mark! I give you six hours and a half to consider of this: if you then agree, without any condition, to do every thing on earth that I choose, why, I may, in time, forgive you. If not, don't enter the same hemisphere with me; don't dare to breath the same air, or use the same light, with me; but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you of your commission; I'll lodge a five-andthree-pence in the hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest! I'll disown you, I'll disinherit you! I'll never call you Jack again ! Capt. A. Mild, gentle, considerate father! I kiss R. B. SHERIDAN. (1751-1816.) your hand.

(Exit.)

O! MY young friend, be obstinately just;
Indulge no passion, and betray no trust.
Let never man be bold enough to say,
Thus, and no further, shall my passion stray:
The first crime past compels us into more,
And guilt grows fate, that was but choice before.
AARON HILL. (1684-1749.)

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PA'TRI-ARCH (-ark), n., the head of a FAN-TAS'TIC, a., fanciful.

family or church.

| HOOD'WINKED, a., blinded.

In "Go to," to is pronounced too. Do not say morrer for mor'row. Justice is spoken of as "hoodwinked," because the ancient painters personified her with a bandage over her eyes as emblematical of her impartiality. The following admirable exercise should be carefully conned and practiced.

TO-MORROW, didst thou say?

Methought I heard Horatio say, To-morrow!
Go to I will not hear of it.

-

To-morrow?

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Against thy plenty; - takes thy ready cash,

And pays thee naught but wishes, hopes, and promises,
The currency of idiots; — injurious bankrupt,
That gulls the easy creditor!

To-morrow?

It is a period no where to be found

In all the hoary registers of Time,-
Unless perchance in the fool's calendar.

Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society
With those who own it. No, my dear Horatio,
'Tis Fancy's child, and Folly is its father;

Wrought of such stuff as dreams are; and as baseless
As the fantastic visions of the evening.

But soft, my friend, arrest the present moments,-
For, be assured, they all are årrant telltales;
And though their flight be silent, and their paths
Trackless as the winged couriers of the air,
They post to Heaven, and there record thy folly;
Because, though stationed on the important watch,
Thou, like a sleeping, faithless sentinel,
Didst let them pass unnoticed, unimproved.

And know, for that thou slumberedst on thy guard,
Thou shalt be made to answer at the bar

For every fugitive; and when thou thus
Shalt stand impleaded at the high tribunal
Of hoodwinked Justice,- who shall tell thy audit?

Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio;
Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings;
'Tis of more worth than kingdoms! far more precious
Than all the crimson treasures of life's foun
O! let it not elude thy grasp,

But, like the good old patriarch* upon rec'ord,
Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee.

NATHANIEL COTTON. (1707-1788.>

CXXIV - SPECIAL EXERCISES IN ELOCUTION.

PART III.†

FIBER OF FIBRE, n., a slender thread. | OM'I-NOUS, a., foreboding ill.

SCEP'TER OF SCEP'TRE, n., a short staff

borne by kings.

SHAM'BLES, n. pl., a flesh-market.

RAPINE n., act of plunder.

PAL'PA-BLE, a., that may be felt,

gross; evident.

EP'I-TAPH (ep'e-taf), n., an inscription on a tomb.

EP'I-THET, n., an adjective denoting a COL-LO'QUI-AL, a., pertaining to or

quality.

EX-CHEQUER (eks-chěk'er), N., an
English court for revenue cases.
PAR'A-SITE, n., one who fawns on the
rich.

used in conversation.

AU-RO'RA, n., the dawning light; the morning.

UN-IM-PEACHED', a., not accused.

Pronounce Schiller, Shil'ler; Wallenstein, Val'len-stine (a as in far.)

Professor. In our last conversation, we considered the obvious fact that the voice may be exercised in three ranges, or pitches, namely, the high, the middle, and the low. It is in the middle range that it has the greatest variety; and this range includes the tones which we habitually make use of when we speak to a person at a moderate distance from us.

* An allusion to Jacob's wrestling with the angel (Genesis, chap. 32, verses 24, 26.) Jacob says: "I will not let thee go until thou bless me." See the beautiful lines, page 189.

For Part I., see page 91; Part II., page 195.

Student. Our present tones, as I understand it, are in this middle pitch. Walker tells us that the voice naturally slides into a higher key when we want to speak louder, but not so easily into a lower key when we would speak more softly.

Pro. Yes; experience shows us that we can raise our voice to any pitch it is capable of; but the same experience tells us that it requires much art and practice to bring the voice to a lower key when it is once raised too high.

Stu. What am I to understand by the o'ro-tund quality of voice?

Pro. The word is made up of two Latin words, oʻre and ro-tun'do, and literally means with a round mouth. It was first introduced, I believe, by Dr. James Rush, in his work on the Voice; and he simply meant by it that ampler middle tone which one might employ be fore a large public audience, as distinguished from the more colloquial pitch which we might use in address. ing a friend at the breakfast table. The following passage, from Lord Chatham's speech, of November 18, 1777, on the American war, ought to be delivered with the orotund body and fullness, although, with the exception of the last impassioned sentence, it should be given in the middle pitch. Try it.

Stu. The difficulty will be, I think, to preserve that middle quality of voice. I fear that, in aiming at the orotund, I shall reach the high; but I will do my best:

"You can not, I venture to say it, you CAN NOT conquer America. What is your present situation there? We do not know the worst ; but we know that in three campaigns we have done nothing, and suffered much. You may swell every expense, and strain every effort, still more extravagantly; accumulate every assistance you can beg or borrow; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German prince, that sells and sends his subjects to the shambles of a foreign country; your efforts are forever vain and im'potent, doubly so from this mercenary aid on which you rely; for it irri

bates to an incurable resentment the minds of your enemies, to overrun them with the sordid sons of rapine and of plunder, devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I NEVER would lay down my arms! never! never! never!"

Pro. In order to acquire strength in the iniddle tones, it is well to practice the voice in passages like the preceding, and some from Cicero's speeches, preserving all the energy of which we are capable in the middle range, but not suffering the voice to rise to a very high pitch. Here is something in a different vein; but, in the delivery, the voice should be in the middle pitch, and have an orotund smoothness and purity of tone:

"I care not, Fortune, what you me deny;

You can not rob me of free Nature's grace;
You can not shut the windows of the sky,

Through which Auro'ra shows her brightening face;

You can not bar my constant feet to trace

The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve.

Let Health my nerves and finer fibers brace,

And I their toys to the great children leave:
Of fancy, reason, virtue, naught can me bereave!"

Byron's Apostrophe to the

Ocean affords a good xercise in orotund delivery. Select, now, a passage

to suit your own taste.

Stu. I will read Job's noble description of the warhorse,-taking Noyes's translation:

"Hast thou given the horse strength?

Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder?
Hast thou taught him to bound like the locust?
How majestic his snorting! how terrible!

He paweth in the valley; he exulteth in his strength,
And rusheth into the midst of arms.

He laugheth at fear; he trembleth not,
And turneth not back from the sword.
Against him rattleth the quiver,

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