5 10 15 The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more! Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Or know the conquer'd knee; Oh! better that her shatter'd hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Set every threadbare sail; [x] 5 10 LESSON XXXVIII.—THAT SILENT MOON.-G. W. DOANE. [The piece which follows, is intended for practice in 'soft' and subdued 'force'. The voice, in this form of utterance, is meant to be reduced below its average energy, not by mere slackness, or absence of force, but by an intentional reduction of volume, so as to touch the ear delicately, yet vividly, as is naturally done in the expression of an affecting sentiment.] That silent moon, that silent moon, Careering now through cloudless sky, Have pass'd beneath her placid eye, Profaned her pure and holy light! But dear to her, in summer eve, By rippling wave, or tufted grove, When hand in hand is purely clasp'd, When friends are far, and fond ones rove And start the tear for those we love, How powerful, too, to hearts that mourn, The happy eves of days gone by; And oft she looks, that silent moon, On lonely eyes, that wake to weep, Or couch, whence pain has banish'd slee On those who mourn, and those who die. But beam on whomsoe'er she will, And fall where'er her splendor may, There's pureness in her chasten'd light, There's comfort in her tranquil ray: What power is hers to soothe the heart,What power the trembling tear to start! The dewy morn let others love, Or bask them in the noontide ray; [] LESSON XXXIX.-EVENING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE. SILLIMAN. [This piece is designed for practice in 'moderate force'. The least excess of quantity, or volume of voice, in the reading of such pieces, disturbs the repose, and is at variance with the gentleness, of the scene. At the same time, care should be taken, that the tone do not become lifeless, from want of animation. A quiet but distinct utterance, should be maintained, throughout all such passages.] From the moment the sun is down, every thing becomes silent on the shore, which our windows overlook; and the murmurs of the broad St. Lawrence, more than two miles wide, immediately before us, and, a little way to the right, 5 spreading to five or six miles in breadth, are sometimes, for an hour, the only sounds that arrest our attention. Every evening since we have been here, black clouds and splendid moonlight have hung over, and embellished this tranquil scene; and, on two of these evenings, we have 10 been attracted to the window, by the plaintive Canadian boat-song. In one instance, it arose from a solitary voyager, floating in his light canoe, which occasionally appeared and disappeared on the sparkling river, and in its distant course seemed no larger than some sportive insect. In 15 another instance, a larger boat, with more numerous and less melodious voices, not, indeed, in perfect harmony, passed nearer to the shore, and gave additional life to the scene. A few moments after, the moon broke out from a throne of dark clouds, and seemed to convert the whole 20 expanse of water into one vast sheet of glittering silver; and, in the very brightest spot, at the distance of more than a mile, again appeared a solitary boat, but too distant to admit of our hearing the song, with which the boatman was probably solacing his lonely course. LESSON XL.-AMERICA TO ENGLAND.-W. ALLSTON. [This piece furnishes an example of the energetic style, which, in elocution, is termed 'declamatory force'. The properties of voice, in the reading and recitation of such passages, may all be desig nated under the head of 'orotund' utterance,—a deep, full, and resonant tone, pervading the whole; and every note combining the depth of the pectoral' with the smoothness of the ‘oral quality'.] All hail thou noble land, Our fathers' native soil! 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 O'er the vast Atlantic wave to our shore: The world o'er! The Genius of our clime, With their conchs the kindred league shall proclaim, Though ages long have passed O'er untravelled seas to roam, Yet lives the blood of England in our veins! That blood of honest fame, While the language, free and bold, In which our Milton told How the vault of heaven rung, When Satan, blasted, fell with all his host; Ten thousand echoes greet, From rock to rock repeat Round our coast; While the manners, while the arts, That mould a nation's soul, Still cling around our hearts, Our joint communion breaking with the sun' Yet, still, from either beach, The voice of blood shall reach, More audible than speech, "We are One!" [1] LESSON XLI.-THE AMERICAN EAGLE.-C. W. THOMSON. [The following piece affords scope for a degree of 'force' beyond that which was exemplified in the preceding lesson. In the second, third, and fourth stanzas, it rises to what is distinguished, in elocution, by the designation of 'empassioned force',-the fullest vehemence of voice, bordering on the shout, and, sometimes, passing into it. This style is found chiefly in lyric poetry; but it is sometimes exemplified in the vehement energy of prose, on exciting occasions ] Bird of the heavens! whose matchless eye Alone can front the blaze of day, And, wandering through the radiant sky, 15 Bird of the cliffs! thy noble form 20 Might well be thought almost divine; The mountain and the rock are thine; The earliest tints of dawn are known, throne The monarch mount his gorgeous |