Elocution Simplified / With an Appendix on Lisping, Stammering, Stuttering, and Other Defects of Speech.

by Walter K. Fobes

MODULATION.

"'Tis not enough the voice be loud and clear:
'Tis MODULATION that must charm the ear."

A good reader or speaker will vary his or her voice in the elements of emotional expression (that is, pitch, quality, movement, stress, force), on words, phrases, and sentences, in such a manner that the listeners get a suggestion of the meaning of a word by the sound of it. For instance, the words bright, glad, joyful, dull, sad, weak, may be pronounced in such a manner as to suggest by the quality of voice used their meaning; and, in the same manner, phrases and whole sentences may have variation in voice so as to suggest their meaning. This is modulation.

To modulate well, first, you must use your imagination, to form a perfect picture in your own mind of what you wish to describe, just as you would if you were an artist, and were intending to paint an ideal picture; and, in reality, you are an artist, for you paint with words and tones. Secondly, you should understand the exact meaning of each word, and, when you speak it, make your manner of speaking it suggest its meaning. Suppose you were to read Tennyson's "Song of the Brook." We will analyze as near as words may the manner of reading each verse. Read the whole song, and form the picture in imagination of the flow of the water, the scenery along its course, the roughness or smoothness of the water as described, the slowness or rapidity of its flow at different points, how large or small the brook is, making the picture as perfect as if you would paint upon canvas the whole scene.

THE BROOK.

1. I come from haunts of coot and hern;
2. I make a sudden sally,
3. And sparkle out among the fern
4. To bicker down a valley.

5. By thirty hills I hurry down,
6. Or slip between the ridges;
7. By twenty thorps, a little town,
8. And half a hundred bridges.

9. Till last by Philip's farm I flow
10. To join the brimming river;
11. For men may come, and men may go,
12. But I go on forever.

13. I chatter over stony ways
14. In little sharps and trebles;
15. I bubble into eddying bays;
16. I babble on the pebbles.

17. With many a curve my banks I fret,
18. By many a field and fallow,
19. And many a fairy foreland set
20. With willow-weed and mallow.

21. I chatter, chatter, as I flow
22. To join the brimming river;
23. For men may come, and men may go,
24. But I go on forever.

25. I wind about, and in and out,
26. With here a blossom sailing,
27. And here and there a lusty trout,
28. And here and there a grayling,

29. And here and there a foamy flake
30. Upon me as I travel;
31. With many a silvery waterbreak
32. Above the golden gravel;

33. And draw them all along, and flow,
34. To join the brimming river;
35. For men may come, and men may go,
36. But I go on forever.

37. I steal by lawns and grassy plots;
38. I slide by hazel covers;
39. I move the sweet forget-me-nots
40. That grow for happy lovers.

41. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
42. Among my skimming swallows;
43. I make the netted sunbeams dance
44. Against my sandy shallows.

45. I murmur under moon and stars
46. In brambly wildernesses;
47. I linger by my shingly bars;
48. I loiter round my cresses;

49. And out again I curve and flow
50. To join the brimming river;
51. For men may come, and men may go,
52. But I go on forever.

As a whole, this piece requires for quality of voice the pure tone; force, gentle; movement, moderate; pitch, middle; stress, median. The variations in modulation must be from these, and will be mostly variations in quality, movement, and pitch.

Lines 2 to 6. Movement, quick; pitch, high; with quality changing on words sudden, sparkle, bicker, hurry, slip, in such a way as to suggest the meaning of the word.

Lines 7 to 12. Movement, moderate; pitch, middle.

Lines 13 to 16. Movement, quick; pitch, high; the words chatter, stony, sharps, trebles, bubble, babble, spoken with suggestion of their meaning.

Lines 17 to 20. Movement, moderate; pitch, middle.

Lines 21 to 24. Movement, quick; pitch, high; make quality suggest on chatter, brimming.

Lines 25 to 28. Movement, slow; pitch, middle; change to suggestive quality on wind, blossom, lusty.

Lines 29 to 36. Movement, moderate; pitch, middle; suggestive quality on foamy, silvery, golden, brimming.

Lines 37 to 40. Movement, slow; pitch, low; suggestive quality on steal, slide, move, happy.

Lines 41, 42. Movement, pitch, quality, all varied on words slip, slide, gloom, glance.

Lines 43, 44. Movement, quick; pitch, high; suggestive quality on dance, shallows.

Lines 45 to 48. Movement, slow; pitch, low; quality, very slightly aspirate; suggestive quality on murmur, linger, loiter.

Lines 49 to 52. Movement, moderate; pitch, middle; suggestive quality on brimming.

This analysis is very imperfect, as it is impossible in words to explain it. What modulation requires is, as a popular author says, "genius and sense" on your part, and you will be enabled to do as here is imperfectly suggested. You will do well to select some pieces, and analyze them, as here suggested. In Longfellow's launch of the ship, in his poem "Building of the Ship," picture the whole scene in imagination, the size and kind of ship, the number of the crowd, &c.

The following pieces are marked so that you may get a general idea of what is required for emotional expression in each. No marking can give you particulars of what is necessary, as the modulation of voice or variety in emotional expression—the light and shadow in the coloring of your word-picture—must depend upon your artistic "sense and genius." Imagine your picture, understand the meaning of every word and suggest its meaning in tone, concentrate yourself in the thought and feeling of the piece, and let your voice be governed by that, and you will not go far wrong if you have faithfully practised what has been recommended in the previous pages of this book.

1. Pure quality, gentle force, slow movement, middle pitch, median stress.

Those evening bells, those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells
Of youth and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime!

Those joyous hours are passed away;
And many a heart that then was gay
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.

And so 'twill be when I am gone:
That tuneful peal will still ring on;
While other bards shall walk these dells,
And sing your praise, sweet evening bells.

2. Orotund quality, with fulness and power, varying middle and low pitch, moderate and quick movement, median and radical stress mixed.

With storm-daring pinion and sun-gazing eye
The gray forest eagle is king of the sky.
From the crag-grasping fir-top where morn hangs its wreath,
He views the mad waters white writhing beneath.
A fitful red glaring, a rumbling jar,
Proclaim the storm-demon still raging afar:
The black cloud strides upward, the lightning more red,
And the roll of the thunder more deep and more dread;
A thick pall of darkness is cast o'er the air;
And on bounds the blast with a howl from its lair.
The lightning darts zig-zag and forked through the gloom;
And the bolt launches o'er with crash, rattle, and boom:
The gray forest eagle—where, where has he sped?
Does he shrink to his eyrie, or shiver with dread?
Does the glare blind his eye? Has the terrible blast
On the wing of the sky-king a fear-fetter cast?
No, no! the brave eagle, he thinks not of fright:
The wrath of the tempest but rouses delight.
To the flash of the lightning his eye casts a gleam;
To the shriek of the wild blast he echoes his scream;
And with front like a warrior that speeds to the fray,
And a clapping of pinions, he's up and away.
Away—oh! away—soars the fearless and free;
What recks he the skies' strife? its monarch is he!
The lightning darts round him, undaunted his sight;
The blast sweeps against him, unwavered his flight:
High upward, still upward, he wheels, till his form
Is lost in the black scowling gloom of the storm.

3. Pure to orotund quality, gentle to moderate force, moderate movement, middle pitch, radical and median stress mixed. This contains many words that can be pronounced with a quality or variation suggesting their meaning.

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Rhetoric as taught in our seminaries and by elocutionists is one thing: genuine, heart-thrilling, soul-stirring eloquence is a very different thing. The one is like the rose in wax, without odor; the other like the rose on its native bush, perfuming the atmosphere with the rich odors distilled from the dew of heaven.

The one is the finely-finished statue of a Cicero or Demosthenes, more perfect in its lineaments than the original, pleasing the eye, and enrapturing the imagination: the other is the living man, animated by intellectual power, rousing the deepest feelings of every heart, and electrifying every soul as with vivid lightning. The one is a picture of the passions all on fire: the other is the real conflagration, pouring out a volume of words that burn like liquid flames bursting from the crater of a volcano.

The one attracts the admiring gaze and tickles the fancy of an audience: the other sounds an alarm that vibrates through the tingling ears to the soul, and drives back the rushing blood upon the aching heart. The one falls upon the multitude like April showers glittering in the sunbeams, animating, and bringing nature into mellow life: the other rouses the same mass to deeds of noble daring, and imparts to it the terrific force of an avalanche.

The one moves the cerebral foliage in waves of recumbent beauty like a gentle wind passing over a prairie of tall grass and flowers: the other strikes a blow that resounds through the wilderness of mind like rolling thunder through a forest of oaks. The one fails when strong commotions and angry elements agitate the public peace: the other can ride upon the whirlwind, direct the tornado, and rule the storm.

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4. Aspirated orotund quality, moderate force, very slow movement, very low pitch, median stress.

Tread softly, bow the head, in reverent silence bow:
No passing bell doth toll, yet an immortal soul
Is passing now.

Stranger, however great, with lowly reverence bow:
There's one in that poor shed, one by that paltry bed,
Greater than thou.

Beneath that beggar's roof, lo! Death doth keep his state.
Enter, no crowds attend; enter, no guards defend
This palace-gate.

That pavement damp and cold no smiling courtiers tread:
One silent woman stands, lifting with meagre hands
A dying head.

No mingling voices sound,—an infant wail alone:
A sob suppressed, again that short deep gasp, and then
The parting groan.

Oh change! oh wondrous change! burst are the prison-bars:
This moment there, so low, so agonized; and now
Beyond the stars!

Oh change, stupendous change! there lies the soulless clod:
The sun eternal breaks, the new immortal wakes,—
Wakes with his God!

5. Pure quality, moderate force, quick movement, high pitch, radical stress, suggestive quality on many words.

The Wind one morning sprang up from sleep,
Saying, "Now for a frolic, now for a leap,
Now for a mad-cap galloping chase:
I'll make a commotion in every place!"
So it swept with a bustle right through a great town,
Creaking the signs, and scattering down
Shutters, and whisking with merciless squalls
Old women's bonnets and gingerbread-stalls:
There never was heard a much lustier shout
As the apples and oranges tumbled about;
And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes
Forever on watch, ran off each with a prize.
Then away to the field it went blustering and humming,
And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming:
It plucked by their tails the grave matronly cows,
And tossed the colts' manes all about their brows;
Till, offended at such a familiar salute,
They all turned their backs, and stood silently mute.
So on it went capering, and playing its pranks;
Whistling with reeds on the broad river's banks;
Puffing the birds as they sat on the spray,
Or the traveller grave on the king's highway.
It was not too nice to hustle the bags
Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags:
'Twas so bold, that it feared not to play its joke
With the doctor's wig and the gentleman's cloak.
Through the forest it roared, and cried gayly, "Now,
You sturdy old oaks, I'll make you bow!"
And it made them bow without more ado,
And cracked their great branches through and through.
Then it rushed like a monster on cottage and farm,
Striking their dwellers with sudden alarm,
And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm.
There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps
To see if their poultry were free from mishaps.
The turkeys they gobbled; the geese screamed aloud;
And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd:
There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on,
Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone.
But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane
With a school-boy who panted and struggled in vain;
For it tossed him and twirled him, then passed, and he stood
With his hat in a pool, and his shoe in the mud.