THE HIGH SCHOOL READER (continued 3)

—Sir Walter Scott

Preparatory.—Describe the scene suggested by the first stanza.

Make three scenes of the rest of the poem, and give a descriptive title to each.

Articulation. (Appendix A, 1, 3, and 6.)

Stanza i. How is the ellipsis in l. 3 indicated?

Stanza ii. What is the difference between the way the speaker addresses the crew and that in which he addresses the lady?

Stanzas iii-iv. How does the reader make prominent the four different arguments of the speaker in ll. 9-15, at the same time showing that each is a stronger warning than the last? (Introduction, pp. 24, 25 and 31.)

Stanzas v-vi. What is the Inflection on the negative statements in the first two lines of each stanza?

Stanzas vii-xi. What feeling pervades the description of the ominous light over Roslyn? What Quality of voice is the natural outcome? (Introduction, p. 34.)

What are the central ideas in stanzas vii, ix, and x?

How is the break in the thought after FAIR, (stanza xi) shown? (Introduction, pp. 8, 9, and 25.)

Stanzas xii-xiii. What phrases contrast the burial of the Saint Clairs with that of Rosabelle? What contrast of feeling?

THE ISLAND OF THE SCOTS

December, 1697

—William Edmondstoune Aytoun

Preparatory.—Narrate briefly the events of this poem, and show by a blackboard diagram the situation of the island, the position of the armies, etc.

Into how many dramatic scenes can the poem be divided? Describe each one, showing what part of the poem it covers.

For exercise in dramatic rendering, see notes on Highland Hospitality, pp. 153 and 154.

In what state of mind are the first two speakers? Compare their speeches in this respect with the first speech of the Scottish Captain—"I've seen a wilder," etc. What is the difference in Time, Pitch, and Stress?

3. RIVER'S SWEEP, FOE. Which is more emphatic? Compare MAN and HORSE, l. 8.

10-12. Give some examples of Climax in the second stanza and show how the Force and the Pitch are affected.

24. "Hath bold Duguesclin's," etc. Supply the undercurrent of thought between the first line of this speech and the second. How is this suggested in reading? (Introduction, p. 14.)

33. he turned him to his little band—O few, etc. How can the break in the thought be indicated? (Introduction, pp. 8, 9, and 25.)

33-46. O few I ween ... not turn again. What two feelings predominate?

Compare the first part of the Captain's speech with the second part from the standpoint of energy. What is the difference in Force and Pitch? (Introduction, pp. 23 and 26.)

65. No stay,—no pause, etc. What part does spontaneous Imitation play here, and in the following stanza? (Introduction, pp. 4 and 5.)

69. Now, by the Holy Cross! etc. Where should the longest Pause be made in this line?

78. The current's strong, etc. What are the Pitch, Force, and Stress? (Introduction, pp. 22, 26, and 29.)

93. The German heart, etc. Emphasis. (Introduction, p. 31.)

96. And never had they felt, etc. Note Grouping and Pause.

99. Scarce swifter, etc. What is the Stress? Why? (Introduction, p. 28.)

101. In vain. Note the transition at this line. (Introduction, pp. 8, 9, and 25.)

113. Why should they bring, etc. How does the voice indicate the insincerity of thought in these lines? (Introduction, pp. 21, 22, and 30.)

What Inflection is used on the various questions in this and the preceding stanzas? (Introduction, pp. 18 and 19.)

127-133. Note the Grouping and the Shading. (Introduction, p. 33.)

CRANFORD SOCIETY

From "Cranford"

In the first place, Cranford is in possession of the Amazons; all the holders of houses above a certain rent are women. If a married couple come to settle in the town, somehow the gentleman disappears; he is either fairly frightened to death by being the only man in the Cranford evening parties, or he is accounted for by being with his regiment, his ship, or closely engaged in business all the week in the great neighbouring commercial town of Drumble, distant only twenty miles on a railway. In short, whatever does become of the gentlemen, they are not at Cranford. What could they do if they were there? The surgeon has his round of thirty miles, and sleeps at Cranford; but every man cannot be a surgeon. For keeping the trim gardens full of choice flowers without a weed to speck them; for frightening away little boys who look wistfully at the said flowers through the railings; for rushing out at the geese that occasionally venture into the gardens if the gates are left open; for deciding all questions of literature and politics without troubling themselves with unnecessary reasons or arguments; for obtaining clear and correct knowledge of everybody's affairs in the parish; for keeping their neat maidservants in admirable order; for kindness (somewhat dictatorial) to the poor, and real tender good offices to each other whenever they are in distress—the ladies of Cranford are quite sufficient. "A man," as one of them observed to me once, "is so in the way in the house!" Although the ladies of Cranford know all each other's proceedings, they are exceedingly indifferent to each other's opinions. Indeed, as each has her own individuality, not to say eccentricity, pretty strongly developed, nothing is so easy as verbal retaliation; but, somehow, good-will reigns among them to a considerable degree.

Then there were rules and regulations for visiting and calls; and they were announced to any young people who might be staying in the town, with all the solemnity with which the old Manx laws were read once a year on the Tinwald Mount.

"Our friends have sent to inquire how you are after your journey to-night, my dear" (fifteen miles in a gentleman's carriage). "They will give you some rest to-morrow; but the next day, I have no doubt, they will call; so be at liberty after twelve—from twelve to three are our calling hours."

Then, after they had called—

"It is the third day, I dare say your mamma has told you, my dear, never to let more than three days elapse between receiving a call and returning it; and also, that you are never to stay longer than a quarter of an hour."

"But am I to look at my watch? How am I to find out when a quarter of an hour has passed?"

"You must keep thinking about the time, my dear, and not allow yourself to forget it in conversation."

As everybody had this rule in their minds, whether they received or paid a call, of course no absorbing subject was ever spoken about. We kept ourselves to short sentences of small talk, and were punctual to our time.

I imagine that a few of the gentlefolks of Cranford were poor, and had some difficulty in making both ends meet; but they were like the Spartans, and concealed their smart under a smiling face. We none of us spoke of money, because that subject savoured of commerce and trade; and though some might be poor, we were all aristocratic. The Cranfordians had that kindly esprit de corps which made them overlook all deficiencies in success when some among them tried to conceal their poverty. When Mrs. Forrester, for instance, gave a party in her baby-house of a dwelling, and the little maiden disturbed the ladies on the sofa by a request that she might get the tea-tray out from underneath, every one took this novel proceeding as the most natural thing in the world, and talked on about household forms and ceremonies as if we all believed that our hostess had a regular servants' hall, second table, with house-keeper and steward, instead of the one little charity-school maiden, whose short ruddy arms could never have been strong enough to carry the tray upstairs, if she had not been assisted in private by her mistress, who now sat in state, pretending not to know what cakes were sent up, though she knew, and we knew, and she knew that we knew, and we knew that she knew that we knew, she had been busy all morning making tea-bread and sponge-cakes.

There were one or two consequences arising from this general but unacknowledged poverty, and this very much acknowledged gentility, which were not amiss, and which might be introduced into many circles of society to their great improvement. For instance, the inhabitants of Cranford kept early hours, and clattered home in their pattens, under the guidance of a lantern-bearer, about nine o'clock at night; and the whole town was abed and asleep by half-past ten. Moreover, it was considered "vulgar" (a tremendous word in Crawford) to give anything expensive, in the way of eatable or drinkable, at the evening entertainments. Wafer bread-and-butter and sponge-biscuits were all that the Honourable Mrs. Jamieson gave; and she was sister-in-law to the late Earl of Glenmire, although she did practise such "elegant economy."

"Elegant economy!" How naturally one falls back into the phraseology of Cranford! There, economy was always "elegant," and money-spending always "vulgar and ostentatious;" a sort of sour-grapeism which made us very peaceful and satisfied. I never shall forget the dismay felt when a certain Captain Brown came to live at Cranford, and openly spoke about his being poor—not in a whisper to an intimate friend, the doors and windows being previously closed, but in the public street, in a loud military voice, alleging his poverty as a reason for not taking a particular house. The ladies of Cranford were already rather moaning over the invasion of their territories by a man and a gentleman. He was a half-pay captain, and had obtained some situation on a neighbouring railway, which had been vehemently petitioned against by the little town; and if, in addition to his masculine gender, and his connection with the obnoxious railway, he was so brazen as to talk of being poor—why, then, indeed, he must be sent to Coventry. Death was as true and as common as poverty; yet people never spoke about that loud out in the streets. It was a word not to be mentioned to ears polite. We had tacitly agreed to ignore that any with whom we associated on terms of visiting equality could ever be prevented by poverty from doing anything that they wished. If we walked to or from a party, it was because the night was so fine, or the air so refreshing, not because sedan-chairs were expensive. If we wore prints instead of summer silks, it was because we preferred a washing material; and so on, till we blinded ourselves to the vulgar fact that we were, all of us, people of very moderate means. Of course, then, we did not know what to make of a man who could speak of poverty as if it was not a disgrace. Yet, somehow, Captain Brown made himself respected in Cranford, and was called upon, in spite of all resolutions to the contrary.

—Mrs. Gaskell

Give examples of momentary completeness in the second and sixth sentences of Par. 1. (Introduction, p. 16.)

What Inflection is placed on the Interrogative sentence in Par. 1? Introduction, p. 19.)

Select words throughout the lesson which are emphatic through contrast and tell what Inflection is placed on them. (Introduction, pp. 20 and 21.)

How are the parenthetical clauses kept in the background? (Introduction, p. 24.)

When Mrs Forrester ... sponge-cakes. Account for the Inflection on the various phrases and clauses of this sentence.

THOUGH SHE KNEW, AND WE KNEW, AND SHE KNEW THAT WE KNEW. Explain the Emphasis. (Introduction, pp. 30-32.)

SIR GALAHAD

—Alfred Tennyson

Preparatory.—Point out the contrast of scene in stanza i. How has the poet obtained contrast of sound? Note the difficulties of Articulation.

Enumerate the manifestations by means of which Sir Galahad apprehends the continual proximity of the Holy Grail.

Select the lines in which the mystical element is most strongly marked. What feeling is aroused in reading these lines?

In what Quality of voice does this feeling find expression? (Introduction, p. 34.)

What is the prevailing Quality of voice?

A rolling organ-harmony, etc. What idea predominates? How does it affect the Quality of voice?

SONG FOR SAINT CECILIA'S DAY

November 22, 1687

Grand Chorus

—John Dryden

What feeling pervades the first and last stanzas? The second stanza? In what Quality of voice does each of these feelings find expression? (Introduction, pp. 33-35.)

Illustrate by means of the third, fourth, and fifth stanzas the extent to which Imitation enters into reading. (Introduction, pp. 4 and 5.)

Account for the gradually increasing Emphasis in ll. 11-15, 48-54, and 60-63. (Introduction, p. 31.)

3-6. What is the Shading and Inflection? (Introduction, pp. 16 and 33.) Compare with these ll. 55-61.

16. What is the Inflection on this question? (Introduction, p. 19.) Compare with this ll. 42-44.

21. THEY THOUGHT. How does the reader give to these words the force of a parenthetical clause? (Introduction, p. 33.)

22-23. Note the Grouping.

31. How does the voice make the transition to direct discourse? (Introduction, p. 24.)

42-54. What is the mental attitude? What is the corresponding Stress? (Introduction, p. 29.)

44. ORGAN'S. Account for the marked Emphasis on this word. Compare BRIGHT CECILIA, l. 51.

THE DAY WAS LINGERING

—Charles Heavysege

Preparatory.—Compare other passages from literature which suggest the "music of the spheres," for example: Dryden's Song for Saint Cecilia's Day, The Moonlight Scene from The Merchant of Venice, Milton's The Hymn.

What is the atmosphere of ll. 1-4? Of ll. 5-14? In what two different Qualities of voice do the corresponding feelings find expression?

Read ll. 6-11, with a view to Perspective.

Note the Grouping in ll. 9-11.

ON FIRST LOOKING INTO CHAPMAN'S HOMER

—John Keats

Preparatory.—How is the fundamental idea of this sonnet illustrated in The Key to Human Happiness? (p. 266.)

What feeling pervades the last six lines? In which line is this feeling most marked? In what Quality of voice does it find expression? (Introduction, pp. 33-35.)

Select the words which are emphatic through contrast, expressed or implied. (Introduction, p. 32.)

GREAT THINGS WERE NE'ER BEGOTTEN IN AN HOUR

—Sir Daniel Wilson (By permission)

Preparatory.—What is the essential thought in this sonnet? Quote corresponding passages. Give illustrations from history and fiction.

What words are emphatic because of (a) contrast expressed, (b) contrast implied? (Introduction, pp. 30 and 32.)

Read ll. 3-9, with a view to Perspective. (Introduction, p. 33.)

A WOOD LYRIC

—William Wilfred Campbell (By permission)

Preparatory.—"An Afternoon alone in the Woods." Tell what one may see, and think, and feel. Illustrate by quotations from the poets.

Give numerous examples of momentary completeness throughout the poem. (Introduction, p. 16.)

How does the reader show that ll. 7-12 are merely anticipative? (Introduction, p. 17.)

What change is made in the Force in l. 13? (Introduction, p. 33.)

How is l. 15 connected with l. 13?

Observe the transition from description to appeal in l. 22. What is the change in vocal expression?

TO NIGHT

—Percy Bysshe Shelley

THE OPENING SCENE AT THE TRIAL OF WARREN HASTINGS

From "Essay on Warren Hastings"

On the 13th of February, 1788, the sittings of the Court commenced. There have been spectacles more dazzling to the eye, more gorgeous with jewelry and cloth of gold, more attractive to grown-up children, than that which was then exhibited at Westminster; but, perhaps, there never was a spectacle so well calculated to strike a highly cultivated, a reflecting, an imaginative mind. All the various kinds of interest which belong to the near and to the distant, to the present and to the past, were collected on one spot and in one hour. All the talents and all the accomplishments which are developed by liberty and civilization were now displayed with every advantage that could be derived both from co-operation and from contrast. Every step in the proceedings carried the mind either backward, through many troubled centuries, to the days when the foundations of our constitution were laid; or far away, over boundless seas and deserts, to dusky nations living under strange stars, worshipping strange gods, and writing strange characters from right to left. The High Court of Parliament was to sit, according to forms handed down from the days of the Plantagenets, on an Englishman accused of exercising tyranny over the lord of the holy city of Benares and over the ladies of the princely house of Oude.

The place was worthy of such a trial. It was the great hall of William Rufus, the hall which had resounded with acclamations at the inauguration of thirty kings, the hall which had witnessed the just sentence of Bacon and the just absolution of Somers, the hall where the eloquence of Strafford had for a moment awed and melted a victorious party inflamed with just resentment, the hall where Charles had confronted the High Court of Justice with the placid courage which has half redeemed his fame.

Neither military nor civil pomp was wanting. The avenues were lined with grenadiers. The streets were kept clear by cavalry. The peers, robed in gold and ermine, were marshalled by the heralds under Garter King-at-Arms. The judges in their vestments of state attended to give advice on points of law. Near a hundred and seventy lords, three fourths of the Upper House as the Upper House then was, walked in solemn order from their usual place of assembling to the tribunal. The junior Baron present led the way, George Eliott, Lord Heathfield, recently ennobled for his memorable defence of Gibraltar against the fleets and armies of France and Spain. The long procession was closed by the Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshal of the realm, by the great dignitaries, and by the brothers and sons of the King. Last of all came the Prince of Wales, conspicuous by his fine person and noble bearing.

The gray old walls were hung with scarlet. The long galleries were crowded by an audience such as has rarely excited the fears or the emulation of an orator. There were gathered together, from all parts of a great, free, enlightened and prosperous empire, grace and female loveliness, wit and learning, the representatives of every science and of every art. There were seated round the Queen, the fair-haired young daughters of the house of Brunswick. There the Ambassadors of great Kings and Commonwealths gazed with admiration on a spectacle which no other country in the world could present. There Siddons, in the prime of her majestic beauty, looked with emotion on a scene surpassing all the imitations of the stage. There the historian of the Roman Empire thought of the days when Cicero pleaded the cause of Sicily against Verres, and when, before a senate which still retained some show of freedom, Tacitus thundered against the oppressor of Africa.

There were seen, side by side, the greatest painter and the greatest scholar of the age. The spectacle had allured Reynolds from that easel which has preserved to us the thoughtful foreheads of so many writers and statesmen, and the sweet smiles of so many noble matrons. It had induced Parr to suspend his labours in that dark and profound mine from which he had extracted a vast treasure of erudition—a treasure too often buried in the earth, too often paraded with injudicious and inelegant ostentation; but still precious, massive, and splendid. There appeared the voluptuous charms of her to whom the heir of the throne had in secret plighted his faith. There too was she, the beautiful mother of a beautiful race, the Saint Cecilia, whose delicate features, lighted up by love and music, art has rescued from the common decay. There were the members of that brilliant society which quoted, criticised, and exchanged repartees under the rich peacock hangings of Mrs. Montague. And there the ladies, whose lips, more persuasive than those of Fox himself, had carried the Westminster election against palace and treasury, shone round Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire.

The Serjeants made proclamation. Hastings advanced to the bar and bent his knee. The culprit was indeed not unworthy of that great presence. He had ruled an extensive and populous country, had made laws and treaties, had sent forth armies, had set up and pulled down princes. And in his high place he had so borne himself that all had feared him, that most had loved him, and that hatred itself could deny him no title to glory except virtue. He looked like a great man and not like a bad man. A person small and emaciated, yet deriving dignity from a carriage which, while it indicated deference to the court, indicated also habitual self-possession and self-respect; a high and intellectual forehead; a brow pensive, but not gloomy; a mouth of inflexible decision; a face pale and worn, but serene, on which was written, as legibly as under the picture in the council-chamber at Calcutta, Mens aequa in arduis; such was the aspect with which the great Proconsul presented himself to his judges.

His counsel accompanied him, men all of whom were afterwards raised by their talents and learning to the highest posts in their profession—the bold and strong-minded Law, afterwards Chief-Justice of the King's Bench; the more humane and eloquent Dallas, afterwards, Chief-Justice of the Common Pleas; and Plomer, who, near twenty years later, successfully conducted in the same high court the defence of Lord Melville, and subsequently became Vice-chancellor and Master of the Rolls.

But neither the culprit nor his advocates attracted so much notice as the accusers. In the midst of the blaze of red drapery, a space had been fitted up with green benches and tables for the Commons. The managers, with Burke at their head, appeared in full dress. The collectors of gossip did not fail to remark that even Fox, generally so regardless of his appearance, had paid to the illustrious tribunal the compliment of wearing a bag and sword. Pitt had refused to be one of the conductors of the impeachment; and his commanding, copious, and sonorous eloquence was wanting to that great muster of various talents. Age and blindness had unfitted Lord North for the duties of a public prosecutor; and his friends were left without the help of his excellent sense, his tact, and his urbanity.

But in spite of the absence of these two distinguished members of the Lower House, the box in which the managers stood contained an array of speakers such as perhaps had not appeared together since the great age of Athenian eloquence. There were Fox and Sheridan, the English Demosthenes and the English Hyperides. There was Burke, ignorant, indeed, or negligent of the art of adapting his reasonings and his style to the capacity and taste of his hearers, but in amplitude of comprehension and richness of imagination superior to every orator, ancient or modern.

There, with eyes reverentially fixed on Burke, appeared the finest gentleman of the age—his form developed by every manly exercise, his face beaming with intelligence and spirit—the ingenious, the chivalrous, the high-souled Windham. Nor, though surrounded by such men, did the youngest manager pass unnoticed. At an age when most of those who distinguish themselves in life are still contending for prizes and fellowships at college, he had won for himself a conspicuous place in Parliament. No advantage of fortune or connection was wanting that could set off to the height his splendid talents and his unblemished honour. At twenty-three he had been thought worthy to be ranked with the veteran statesmen who appeared as the delegates of the British Commons at the bar of the British nobility. All who stood at the bar, save him alone, are gone—culprit, advocates, accusers. To the generation which is now in the vigour of life, he is the sole representative of a great age which has passed away. But those who, within the last ten years, have listened with delight till the morning sun shone on the tapestries of the House of Lords, to the lofty and animated eloquence of Charles, Earl Grey, are able to form some estimate of the powers of a race of men among whom he was not the foremost.

The charges, and the answers of Hastings, were first read. The ceremony occupied two whole days, and was rendered less tedious than it would otherwise have been by the silver voice and just emphasis of Cowper, the clerk of the court, near relation of the amiable poet. On the third day Burke rose. Four sittings were occupied by his opening speech, which was intended to be a general introduction to all the charges. With an exuberance of thought and splendour of diction which more than satisfied the highly raised expectations of the audience, he described the character and institutions of the natives of India; recounted the circumstances in which the Asiatic empire of Britain had originated; and set forth the constitution of the Company and of the English Presidencies. Having thus attempted to communicate to his hearers an idea of Eastern society, as vivid as that which existed in his own mind, he proceeded to arraign the administration of Hastings, as systematically conducted in defiance of morality and public law.

The energy and pathos of the great orator extorted expressions of unwonted admiration from the stern and hostile Chancellor, and, for a moment, seemed to pierce even the resolute heart of the defendant. The ladies in the galleries, unaccustomed to such displays of eloquence, excited by the solemnity of the occasion, and perhaps not unwilling to display their taste and sensibility, were in a state of uncontrollable emotion. Handkerchiefs were pulled out, smelling-bottles were handed round; hysterical sobs and screams were heard; and Mrs. Sheridan was carried out in a fit. At length the orator concluded. Raising his voice till the old arches of Irish oak resounded: "Therefore," said he, "hath it with all confidence been ordered by the Commons of Great Britain, that I impeach Warren Hastings of high crimes and misdemeanours. I impeach him in the name of the Commons' House of Parliament, whose trust he has betrayed. I impeach him in the name of the English nation, whose ancient honour he has sullied. I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose rights he has trodden under foot and whose country he has turned into a desert. Lastly in the name of human nature itself, in the name of both sexes, in the name of every age, in the name of every rank, I impeach the common enemy and oppressor of all."

—Macaulay

This lesson is an exercise on Inflection, especially as it occurs on antithetical words or phrases and on series of words or phrases parallel in construction. (Introduction, pp. 19 and 20.)

PERORATION OF OPENING SPEECH AGAINST WARREN HASTINGS

1. In the name of the Commons of England, I charge all this villainy upon Warren Hastings, in this last moment of my application to you.

2. My Lords, what is it that we want here to a great act of national justice. Do we want a cause, my Lords? You have the cause of oppressed princes, of undone women of the first rank, of desolated provinces, and of wasted kingdoms.

3. Do you want a criminal, my Lords? When was there so much iniquity ever laid to the charge of any one? No, my Lords, you must not look to punish any other such delinquent from India. Warren Hastings has not left substance enough in India to nourish such another delinquent.

4. My Lords, is it a prosecutor you want? You have before you the Commons of Great Britain as prosecutors; and I believe, my Lords, that the sun, in his beneficent progress round the world, does not behold a more glorious sight than that of men, separated from a remote people by the material bounds and barriers of nature, united by the bond of a social and moral community—all the Commons of England resenting, as their own, the indignities and cruelties that are offered to all the people of India.

5. Do we want a tribunal? My Lords, no example of antiquity, nothing in the modern world, nothing in the range of human imagination, can supply us with a tribunal like this. My Lords, here we see virtually, in the mind's eye, that sacred majesty of the Crown, under whose authority you sit and whose power you exercise. We have here all the branches of the royal family, in a situation between majesty and subjection, between the sovereign and the subject—offering a pledge in that situation, for the support of the rights of the Crown and the liberties of the people, both which extremities they touch.

6. My Lords, we have a great hereditary peerage here; those who have their own honour, the honour of their ancestors, and of their posterity, to guard, and who will justify, as they always have justified, that precision in the Constitution by which justice is made an hereditary office. My Lords, we have here a new nobility, who have risen and exalted themselves by various merits, by great civil and military services, which have extended the fame of this country from the rising to the setting sun. My Lords, you have here, also, the lights of our religion; you have the bishops of England. My Lords, you have that true image of the primitive church in its ancient form, in its ancient ordinances, purified from the superstitions and vices which a long succession of ages will bring upon the best institutions.

7. My Lords, these are the securities which we have in all the constituent parts of the body of this House. We know them, we reckon, we rest upon them, and commit safely the interests of India and of humanity into your hands. Therefore, it is with confidence that, ordered by the Commons, I impeach Warren Hastings, Esquire, of high crimes and misdemeanours. I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain in Parliament assembled, whose parliamentary trust he has betrayed. I impeach him in the name of all the Commons of Great Britain, whose national character he has dishonoured. I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose laws, rights, and liberties he has subverted, whose property he has destroyed, whose country he has laid waste and desolate. I impeach him in the name and by virtue of those eternal laws of justice which he has violated. I impeach him in the name of human nature itself, which he has cruelly outraged, injured and oppressed, in both sexes, in every age, rank, situation, and condition of life.

—Edmund Burke

What effect would the solemnity of the occasion and the gravity of the accusation have on the Quality of the speaker's voice? (Introduction, p. 34.)

Par. 2. CAUSE. What words in Pars. 3, 4, and 5 are emphatic through contrast with this word? Point out similar contrasts in Par. 6.

Account for the Inflection on the various questions.

How are the Climaxes in Pars. 2, 5, and 7 interpreted vocally? (Introduction, p. 31.)

THE SONG MY PADDLE SINGS

—E. Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake)

(By arrangement with the Author)

By examples from the above poem show to what extent Imitation enters into vocal expression. (Introduction, pp. 4-6.)

THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDGE

From "Horatius"

—Macaulay

Preparatory.—What is the historic back-ground of the ballad from which this selection is taken? Narrate briefly the events as told by Macaulay in Horatius. Where is the scene of the dramatic events here portrayed? Who are the chief actors? Who are the speakers?

Show whether the words and phrases repeated in the following lines are accompanied by increased Emphasis or whether the Emphasis is transferred: ll. 1-4, 41-46, 108-109, 118-121, 188-190, 198-199, 202-205, 214-217, 240-241, 244-245, 252, 292-295. (Introduction, pp. 30-32.) Give examples of Emphasis through contrast, throughout the selection.

What Inflection is placed on the questions in ll. 8, 13-16, 23-24? Give reasons.

Compare the mental attitude of Horatius in ll. 11-16, and ll. 17-24. What is the difference in Stress?

ll. 38-39. What Inflection and Emphasis on the series of words? (Introduction, pp. 20 and 31.)

In what way does Imitation enter into the reading of ll. 72-75, 82-84, 95-100, 160-163, 218-221, 292-299? How are the Time and Stress affected? How does Imitation affect the Pitch in ll. 230-233, 156-157, 172-173, 238-241, 265-267, 284-291?

ll. 144-147. In what Quality of voice should Astur's speech be read?

l. 153. What is the most important word?

ll. 178-181, 196-201. How does the derision affect the Stress and the Inflection? (Introduction, pp. 21, 22, and 30.)

ll. 186-187. Explain the Inflection on this negative statement.

ll. 238-241, 284-291. Compare the feelings of Sextus with those of Lars Porsena. How is the difference shown in the Quality of voice? (Introduction, pp. 33-35.)

ON THE DEATH OF KING EDWARD VII

Delivered in the British House of Commons, May 12th, 1910

The late King, who has been suddenly taken away from us, had, at the time of his death, not yet completed the tenth year of his reign. Those years were crowded with moving and stirring events, both abroad, in the Empire, and here at home. In our relations with foreign countries they have been years of growing friendships, of new understandings, of stronger and surer safeguards for the peace of mankind. Within the Empire during the same time the sense of interdependence, the consciousness of common interests and common risks, the ever-tightening bonds of corporate unity have been developed and vivified as they had never been before. Here at home, as though it were by way of contrast, controversial issues of the gravest kind—economic, social, and constitutional—have ripened into a rapid maturity.

Sir, in all these multiform manifestations of our national and imperial life, history will assign a part of singular dignity and authority to the great Ruler whom we have lost. In external affairs his powerful personal influence was steadily and zealously directed to the avoidance not only of war, but of the causes and pretexts of war, and he well earned the title by which he will always be remembered, "the Peacemaker of the World."

Within the boundaries of his own Empire, by his intimate knowledge of its component parts, by his broad and elastic sympathy not only with ambitions, and aspirations, but with the sufferings and the hardships of his people, by his response to any and every appeal whether to the sense of justice or the spirit of compassion, he won a degree of loyalty, affection, and confidence which few Sovereigns have ever enjoyed. At home, we all recognize that, above the din and dust of our hard-fought controversies, detached from party and attached only to the common interests, we had in him an arbiter ripe in experience, judicial in temper, at once a reverent worshipper of our traditions and a watchful guardian of our constitutional liberties.

One is tempted, indeed constrained, on such an occasion as this to ask what were the qualities which enabled a man called comparatively late in life to new duties of unexampled complexity—what were the qualities which in practice proved him so admirably fitted to the task, and have given him an enduring and illustrious record among the rulers and governors of the nations? I should be disposed to assign the first place to what sounds a commonplace—but in its persistent and unfailing exercise is one of the rarest of virtues—his strong, abiding, dominating sense of public duty.

King Edward, be it remembered, was a man of many and varied interests. He was a sportsman in the best sense, an ardent and discriminating patron of the Arts, and as well equipped as any man of his time for the give-and-take of social intercourse; wholly free from the prejudices and narrowing rules of caste; at home in all companies; an enfranchised citizen of the world. To such a man, endowed as he was by nature, placed where he was by fortune and by circumstances, there was open, if he had chosen to enter it, an unlimited field for self-indulgence. But, Sir, as every one will acknowledge who was brought into daily contact with him in the sphere of affairs, his duty to the State always came first. In this great business community there was no better man of business, no man by whom the humdrum obligations—punctuality, method, preciseness, and economy of time and speech—were more keenly recognized or more severely practised. I speak with the privilege of close experience when I say that wherever he was, whatever may have been his apparent preoccupations, in the transactions of the business of the State there were never any arrears, there was never any trace of confusion, there was never any moment of avoidable delay.

Next to these, Sir—I am still in the domain of practice and administration—I should put his singular, perhaps an unrivalled, tact in the management of men, and a judgment of intuitive shrewdness as to the best outlet from perplexed and often baffling situations. He had, in its highest and best development, the genius of common sense. These rare gifts of practical efficiency were, during the whole of his Kingship, yoked to the service of a great ideal. He was animated every day of his Sovereignty by the thought that he was at once the head and the chief servant of that vast complex organism which we call the British Empire. He recognized in the fullest degree both the powers and the limitations of a Constitutional Monarch. Here, at home, he was, though no politician, as every one knows, a keen Social Reformer. He loved his people at home and over the seas. Their interests were his interests; their fame was his fame. He had no self apart from them.

I will not touch for more than a moment on more delicate and sacred ground—on his personal charm, the warmth and wealth of his humanity; his unfailing considerateness for all who in any capacity were permitted to work for him. I will only say, in this connection that no man in our time has been more justly beloved by his family and his friends, and no Ruler in our or in any time has been more sincerely true, more unswervingly loyal, more uniformly kind to his advisers and his servants. By the unsearchable counsels of the Disposer of Events he has been called suddenly, and without warning, to his account. We are still dazed under the blow which has befallen us. It is too soon, as yet, even to attempt to realize its full meaning, but this, at least, we may say at once and with full assurance, that he has left to his people a memory and an example which they will never forget, a memory of great opportunities greatly employed, and an example which the humblest of his subjects may treasure and strive to follow, of simplicity, courage, self-denial, tenacious devotion up to the last moment of conscious life to work, to duty, and to service.

—The Right Honourable Herbert Henry Asquith

Within the boundaries ... enjoyed. Make an analysis of this sentence with a view to Perspective. (Introduction, p. 33.)

DETACHED ... INTERESTS. Note the contrasts and indicate the Inflection on each.

TEMPTED, ... CONSTRAINED. What difference in Emphasis? (Introduction, p. 31.) Compare SINGULAR, PERHAPS UNRIVALLED; IN OUR OR IN ANY TIME.

THE HEROES OF MAGERSFONTEIN

Dec. 11, 1899

1. During the night it was considered expedient that the Highland Brigade, 4,000 strong, under General Wauchope, should get close enough to the lines of the foe to make it possible to charge the heights. At midnight the gallant but ill-fated men moved cautiously through the darkness toward the kopje where the Boers were most strongly intrenched. They were led by a guide who was supposed to know every inch of the country, out into the darkness of an African night.

2. So onward until three of the clock on the Monday. Then out of the darkness a rifle rang sharp and clear, a herald of disaster—a soldier had tripped in the dark over the hidden wires laid down by the enemy. In a second, in the twinkling of an eye, the searchlights of the Boers fell broad and clear as the noonday sun on the ranks of the doomed Highlanders, though it left the enemy concealed in the shadows of the frowning mass of hills behind them. For one brief moment the Scots seemed paralysed by the suddenness of their discovery, for they knew that they were huddled together like sheep within fifty yards of the trenches of the foes.

3. Then clear above the confusion rolled the voice of the General: "Steady, men, steady!"—and like an echo to the veterans out came the crash of nearly a thousand rifles not fifty paces from them. The Highlanders reeled before the shock like trees before the tempest; their best, their bravest, fell in that wild hail of lead. General Wauchope was down, riddled with bullets; yet gasping, dying, bleeding from every vein, the Highland chief raised himself on his hands and knees and cheered his men forward. Men and officers fell in heaps together.

4. The Black Watch charged, and the Gordons and the Seaforths, with a yell that stirred the British camp below, rushed onward to death or disaster. The accursed wires caught them around the legs until they floundered like trapped wolves, and all the time the rifles of the foe sang the song of death in their ears. They fell back broken and beaten, leaving nearly 1,300 dead and wounded, just where the broad breast of the grassy veldt melts into the embrace of the rugged African hills; and an hour later, the dawning came of the dreariest day that Scotland has known for a generation past.

5. Of her officers, the flower of her chivalry, the pride of her breeding, but few remained to tell the tale—a sad tale truly, but one untinted with dishonour nor smirched with disgrace, for up these heights under similar circumstances, even a brigade of devils could scarce have hoped to pass. All that mortal man could do the Scots did; they tried, they failed, they fell, and there is nothing left us now but to revere their memory and give them a place of honour in the pages of history.

6. Three hundred yards to the rear of the little township of Modder River, just as the sun was sinking in a blaze of African splendour, on the evening of Tuesday, the 12th of December, a long shallow grave lay exposed in the breast of the veldt. To the westward, the broad river fringed with trees runs murmuringly; to the eastward, the heights still held by the enemy, scowled menacingly; north and south the veldt undulated peacefully; a few paces to the northward of that grave, fifty dead Highlanders lay dressed as they had fallen on the field of battle: they had followed their chief to the field, and they were to follow him to the grave.

7. How grim and stern these men looked as they lay face upward to the sky, with great hands clutched in the last agony, and brows still knit with the stern lust of the strife in which they had fallen. The plaids, dear to every Highland clan, were represented there, and out of the distance came the sound of pipes. It was the General coming to join his men. There, right under the eyes of the enemy, moved with slow and solemn tread all that remained of the Highland Brigade. In front of them walked the chaplain, with bared head, dressed in his robes of office; then came the pipers with their pipes, sixteen in all, and behind them, with arms reversed, moved the Highlanders, dressed in all the regalia of their regiments, and in the midst the dead General, borne by four of his comrades. Out swelled the pipes to the strains of "The Flowers of the Forest," now ringing proud and high until the soldier's head went back in haughty defiance—and eyes flashed through tears like sunlight on steel, now sinking to moaning wail like a woman mourning for her first-born, until the proud heads drooped forward till they rested on heaving chests, and tears rolled down the wan and scarred faces, and the choking sobs broke through the solemn rhythm of the march of death.

8. Right up to the grave they marched, then broke away in companies, until the General lay in the shallow grave with a Scottish square of armed men around him. Only the dead man's son and a small remnant of his officers stood with the chaplain and the pipers, while the solemn service of the church was spoken.

9. Then once again the pipes pealed out, and "Lochaber No More" cut through the stillness like a cry of pain until one could almost hear the widow in her Highland home mourning for the soldier she would welcome back no more.

10. Then, as if touched with the magic of one thought, the soldiers turned their tear-damped eyes from the still form in the shallow grave toward the height where Cronje, the Lion of Africa, and his soldiers stood. Then every cheek flushed crimson, and strong jaws set like steel, and the veins on the hands that clasped the rifle handles swelled almost to bursting with the fervour of the grip, and that look from those silent, armed men spoke more eloquently than ever spoke the tongues of orators. For on each frowning face the spirit of vengeance sat, and each sparkling eye asked silently for blood.

11. At the head of the grave, at the point nearest the enemy, the General was laid to sleep, his officers grouped around him, while in line behind him, his soldiers were laid in a double row wrapped in their blankets. No shots were fired over the dead men resting so peacefully, only the salute was given, and then the men marched campwards as the darkness of an African night rolled over the far-stretching breadth of the veldt.

—From "The London Daily News" (By permission)

Par. 1. Note the Grouping, Pause, and Shading in the last sentence. Compare the Grouping in the preceding sentence, in the last sentence of Par. 4, in the first sentence of Par. 7, and in the second sentence of Par. 10.

Explain the Inflection and Emphasis on the phrases parallel in construction, in the fifth and sixth sentences of Par. 7, and the second sentence of Par. 10.

THE FUNERAL OF JULIUS CÆSAR

From "Julius Cæsar," Act III. Scene ii.

The Forum. Enter Brutus, Cassius, and a throng of Citizens.

All. We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied.

Bru. Then follow me, and give me audience, friends.— Cassius, go you into the other street, And part the numbers.— Those that will hear me speak, let them stay here; Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; And public reasons shall be rendered Of Cæsar's death.

1 Cit.I will hear Brutus speak.

2 Cit. I will hear Cassius; and compare their reasons, When severally we hear them rendered.10

[Exit Cassius, with some of the Citizens. Brutus goes into the rostrum.]

3 Cit. The noble Brutus is ascended: silence!

Bru. Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause; and be silent, that you may hear: believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Cæsar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Cæsar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar,20 this is my answer.—Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living, and die all slaves, than that Cæsar were dead, to live all free men? As Cæsar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him: but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honour for his valour; and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would30 not be a Roman? If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.

All. None, Brutus, none.

Bru. Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cæsar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death.40

[Enter Antony and others, with Cæsar's body.]

Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony: who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? With this I depart,—that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.

All. Live, Brutus, live! live!

1 Cit. Bring him with triumph home unto his house.

2 Cit. Give him a statue with his ancestors.50

3 Cit. Let him be Cæsar.

4 Cit. Cæsar's better parts Shall now be crown'd in Brutus. 1 Cit. We'll bring him to his house with shouts and clamours.

Bru. My countrymen,—

2 Cit. Peace! silence! Brutus speaks.

1 Cit. Peace, ho!

Bru. Good countrymen, let me depart alone, And, for my sake, stay here with Antony: Do grace to Cæsar's corpse, and grace his speech60 Tending to Cæsar 's glories; which Mark Antony, By our permission, is allow'd to make. I do entreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. [Exit]

1 Cit. Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony.

3 Cit. Let him go up into the public chair; We'll hear him.—Noble Antony, go up.

Ant. For Brutus' sake, I am beholding to you.

[He goes up into the rostrum.]

4 Cit. What does he say of Brutus?

3 Cit. He says, for Brutus' sake,70 He finds himself beholding to us all.

4 Cit. 'T were best to speak no harm of Brutus here.

1 Cit. This Cæsar was a tyrant.

3 Cit. Nay, that's certain: We are blest that Rome is rid of him.

2 Cit. Peace! let us hear what Antony can say.

Ant. You gentle Romans,—

All. Peace, ho! let us hear him.

Ant. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him.80 The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Cæsar. The noble Brutus Hath told you, Cæsar was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Cæsar answer'd it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest,— For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men.— Come I to speak in Cæsar's funeral.90 He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man.100 You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause: What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,110 And men have lost their reason!—Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Cæsar, And I must pause till it come back to me.

1 Cit. Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.

2 Cit. If thou consider rightly of the matter, Cæsar has had great wrong.

3 Cit. Has he, masters? I fear there will a worse come in his place.

4 Cit. Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown; Therefore 't is certain he was not ambitious.120 1 Cit. If it be found so, some will dear abide it. 2 Cit. Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping. 3 Cit. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony. 4 Cit. Now mark him, he begins again to speak. Ant. But yesterday the word of Cæsar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. O masters! if I were dispos'd to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong,130 Who, you all know, are honourable men; I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you, Than I will wrong such honourable men. But here's a parchment, with the seal of Cæsar; I found it in his closet, 'tis his will: Let but the commons hear this testament,— Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,— And they would go and kiss dead Cæsar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood.140 Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue. 4 Cit. We'll hear the will: read it, Mark Antony. All. The will, the will! we will hear Cæsar's will. Ant. Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it; It is not meet you know how Cæsar lov'd you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men; And, being men, hearing the will of Cæsar,150 It will inflame you, it will make you mad: 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs; For, if you should, O, what would come of it! 4 Cit. Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony; You shall read us the will,—Cæsar's will. Ant. Will you be patient? will you stay awhile? I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it. I fear I wrong the honourable men Whose daggers have stabb'd Cæsar-, I do fear it. 4 Cit. They were traitors: honourable men!160 All. The will! the testament! 2 Cit. They were villains, murderers: the will! read the will! Ant. You will compel me, then, to read the will? Then make a ring about the corpse of Cæsar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend? and will you give me leave? All. Come down. 2 Cit. Descend. 3 Cit. You shall have leave. [He comes down from the rostrum.] 4 Cit. A ring; stand round.170 1 Cit. Stand from the hearse, stand from the body. 2 Cit. Room for Antony!—most noble Antony. Ant. Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off. All. Stand back! room! bear back! Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle; I remember The first time ever Cæsar put it on; 'T was on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii:— Look! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through:180 See, what a rent the envious Casca made: Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd; And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Cæsar follow'd it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Cæsar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Cæsar lov'd him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab,190 Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart; And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statue, Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep; and I perceive, you feel The dint of pity: these are gracious drops.200 Kind souls, what, weep you, when you but behold Our Cæsar's vesture wounded? Look you here. Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors. 1 Cit. O piteous spectacle! 2 Cit. O noble Cæsar! 3 Cit. O woeful day! 4 Cit. O traitors, villains! 1 Cit. O most bloody sight! 2 Cit. We will be revenged. All. Revenge! About,—seek,—burn,—fire,—kill,—slay!210 Let not a traitor live! Ant. Stay, countrymen. 1 Cit. Peace there! Hear the noble Antony. 2 Cit. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him. Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honourable; What private griefs they have, alas! I know not, That made them do it; they are wise and honourable, And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.220 I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts: I am no orator, as Brutus is; But as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths,230 And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue In every wound of Cæsar, that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny. All. We'll mutiny! 1 Cit. We'll burn the house of Brutus! 3 Cit. Away, then! come, seek the conspirators. Ant. Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak. All. Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony.240 Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what: Wherein hath Cæsar thus deserv'd your loves? Alas, you know not: I must tell you then: You have forgot the will I told you of. All. Most true;—the will!—let's stay, and hear the will. Ant. Here is the will, and under Cæsar's seal. To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas. 2 Cit. Most noble Cæsar!—we'll revenge his death. 3 Cit. O royal Caesar!250 Ant. Hear me with patience. All. Peace, ho! Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbours, and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber; he hath left them you, And to your heirs for ever,—common pleasures, To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. Here was a Cæsar! when comes such another? 1 Cit. Never, never!—Come, away, away! We'll burn his body in the holy place,260 And with the brands fire the traitors' houses. Take up the body. 2 Cit. Go, fetch fire. 3 Cit. Pluck down benches. 4 Cit. Pluck down forms, windows, anything. [Exeunt all, with the body.] Ant. Now let it work! Mischief, thou art afoot, Take thou what course thou wilt!

—Shakespeare

Preparatory.—For dramatic rendering see notes on Highland Hospitality pp. 153 and 154.

The long speeches of Brutus and Antony may be practised by themselves as exercises in Emphasis and Inflection.

88-89. How is the parenthetical clause subordinated? Give other examples from the extracts.

153-154. Select the emphatic words.

160. What Stress is placed on TRAITORS and HONOURABLE respectively? Account for the difference.

210. About, ... slay! What is the Stress? Compare ll. 236-237, and ll. 259-265.

THE REVENGE

A Ballad of the Fleet, 1591