These distinctions it will be requi a distance. We have already more than once remarked, that the voice slides more readily into a higher than a lower tone during a continued effort of speaking; and hence the rule has been judiciously derived, to begin under the common level of the voice rather than above it. This is found to be the best method of attaining the proper key, or natural pitch of the voice. It is hence with great propriety (exclusive of the suitable tone of prayer) that preachers are accustomed to begin at the lowest tone of their voice, so as sometimes to be scarcely audible, though the attention of the audience, at the commencement, is usually such as to favour the hearing of the softest accents. The speaker thus, as it were, feels the room with his voice, and is better able to determine what key to adopt, which shall regulate the whole tenor of his discourse. For this purpose it was recommended by Mr. Sheridan, that the speaker should address himself to some person at the greatest distance in the audience, whom if his voice reach so as to be easily heard, it will be certain that all the intermediate persons will also hear. Mr. Sheridan also says, that the voice should not be raised in pitch, but in force and quantity, according to the distance,—a rule which accords with the remarks which have just been made. Mr. Sheridan's first rule, however, is liable to considerable objection; for though it would answer sufficiently well if only a short sentence or two were to be delivered to a great assembly, yet a long discourse begun in this manner is likely to run into the extreme pitch in height, and to become a clamorous vociferation rather than distinct and intelligible speaking. Mr. Walker, therefore, in opposition to Sheridan, cautions the public speaker against a loud and vociferous beginning, and recommends him to adapt his voice at first so as only to be heard by the person nearest to him; remarking, that if the voice be naturally strong or distinct, it will insensibly steal into a higher and louder tone; and the greatest address, in this case, will be requisite to keep the voice within due bounds. In order to accomplish this, the voice ought frequently to be recalled, if the expression be permitted, from the extremities of the auditory, and addressed to those nearest to the speaker. This should be done at every considerable pause, or at the beginning of every head and subdivision of the discourse; for nothing, as Mr. Walker observes, will so powerfully work on the voice, as the speaker to suppose himself conversing at different intervals with different parts of an auditory. It is of importance, therefore, to impress upon the minds of our readers, that if the voice be articulate and distinct, however low the key may be, it will still be audible. Accordingly we find that many public speakers who have very weak voices, make themselves distinctly heard by attending to this simple rule. A great deal, no doubt, depends on the size and structure of the place. Some of our churches and cathedrals, for example, are so large and spacious, that the voice is almost as much dissipated as in the open air, or, what is worse, broken and confused by echoes from the arched structure of the edifices. On the other hand, if the place be small, the loudness of the voice must be in proportion. In both the one case and the other, a loud and vociferous speaker will render himself unintelligible in proportion to the extent and the exertion of his voice; for the departing and commencing sounds will encounter each other, and defeat every intention of distinct articulation and agreeable speaking. It appears then that piano and forte, so far as regards the voice, having no relation to pitch or key, but to force and quantity, this must depend on the power of the lungs, and the body or volume which the speaker or singer can give out, and not upon the adjustment of the organs of the voice. A voice, accordingly, is powerful in proportion to the quantity of sound it is able to issue, and is soft or loud in proportion to the quantity it actually does issue. The power of the voice, then, it would appear from this, is altogether a gift of nature, at least as far as other bodily powers are so. It may like them be improved by cultivation and exercise, as we shall show; but cannot be materially changed from natural feebleness to strength, nor the reverse: but, on the other hand, the pitch and management of it are altogether within the province of art. Thus experience demonstrates, that a voice which may not by nature be perfect and strong, may, by due cultivation and art, be able to sustain greater efforts, and to afford more pleasure to the hearer, than the uncultivated voice of a Stentor, which will break itself down by its own force. As this is one of the most important things for a public speaker, we shall select the following RULES FOR REGULATING THE PITCH OF THE VOICE. The actual practice of the pitch and tones to be adopted, should take place always, if possible, by way of rehearsal previous to public delivery; and when time and opportunity do not permit this, the manner in which the voice should be managed in different parts of the discourse ought to be con sidered and determined. This practice was followed by the ancients, and was called the silent preparation of the voice. Cresollius illustrates this by a singular story from Plutarch. A barber at Rome had a magpie which afforded him and the neighbourhood great amusement, by its imitative garrulity and songs: it happened that the funeral of a wealthy citizen stopped in procession, near the barber's shop, and a solemn concert of trumpets was performed. The magpie, for three days after this, remained in profound silence, so that his master thought he had been stunned by the sound of the trumpets, and it was feared that his talents and his voice were thereby lost. But after his long silence, to the admiration of every one, he began to imitate with incredible correctness the sounds and modulations of the whole concert ;, so that the cause of his three days' silence, says Plutarch, with great naïveté, was the exercise and meditation within himself of his talent of imitation, and his silent tuning and adapting his voice like a musical instrument. Mrs. Siddons, it is reported, always prepared herself for her great efforts, by this sort of silent meditation, to which perhaps she owed not a little of the pathos, variety, and effect of her voice. As the middle pitch of the voice admits of ascending or descending most naturally and freely, |