QUALITY.
As there are all kinds and qualities of emotions, so there are all kinds and qualities of voice to express them. The shade and varieties of these qualities are as infinite in number as the emotions they express. We need, however, in practice, to make but four general divisions,—whisper, aspirate, pure, and orotund. The whisper expresses secrecy, fear, and like emotions. It is seldom required in reading, as the aspirate is expressive of the same, and you would be likely to use that instead of whisper. You should practise the whisper until you can make it very clear, and free from all impurity, or sound of throat, and full, so as to be heard at a distance. In both whisper and aspirate leave the throat free and open; and be energetic, remembering that force is made by control of muscles at the waist, and not by effort of throat or mouth. The clearer you can make a whisper, the better quality you can make in pure and orotund. Pure tone or quality is sound made with no disagreeable quality being heard; and is the same as pleasant quality, spoken of as being necessary to make listeners. Pure quality is made with ease, with no waste of breath, and is used for expression of agreeable feelings. Orotund is a magnified, pure tone, and adds richness and power to the voice in speech. It is the expression of intense feelings, usually slow in movement, as grandeur, sublimity, awe, &c. It can only be obtained by much practice and much patience, allowing the voice to grow in fulness, as it will in time, if practice continues.
WHISPER.
1.Deep stillness fell on all around:
Through that dense crowd was heard no sound
Of step or word.
2. How dark it is! I cannot seem to see
The faces of my flock. Is that the sea
That murmurs so? or is it weeping? Hush,
My little children! God so loved the world,
He gave his Son: so love ye one another.
Love God and man. Amen!
3. Hush! 'tis a holy hour! The quiet room
Seems like a temple; while yon soft lamp sheds
A faint and starry radiance through the gloom
And the sweet stillness down on bright young heads,
With all their clustering locks untouched by care,
And bowed, as flowers are bowed with night, in prayer.
ASPIRATE.
1. Hush! draw the curtain,—so!
She is dead, quite dead, you see.
Poor little lady! She lies
With the light gone out of her eyes;
But her features still wear that soft,
Gray, meditative expression
Which you must have noticed oft.
2. Lord of the winds! I feel thee nigh;
I know thy breath in the burning sky;
And I wait with a thrill in every vein
For the coming of the hurricane.
And, lo! on the wing of the heavy gales,
Through the boundless arch of heaven, he sails:
Silent and slow, and terribly strong,
The mighty shadow is borne along,
Like the dark eternity to come;
While the world below, dismayed and dumb,
Through the calm of the thick hot atmosphere
Looks up at its gloomy folds with fear.
3. 'Tis midnight's holy hour; and silence now
Is brooding like a gentle spirit o'er
The still and pulseless world. Hark! on the winds
The bell's deep tones are swelling: 'tis the knell
Of the departed year. No funeral train
Is sweeping past: yet on the stream and wood,
With melancholy light, the moonbeams rest
Like a pale, spotless shroud; the air is stirred
As by a mourner's sigh; and on yon cloud,
That floats so still and placidly through heaven,
The spirits of the seasons seem to stand,—
Young Spring, bright Summer, Autumn's solemn form,
And Winter with its aged locks,—and breathe,
In mournful cadences that come abroad
Like the far wind-harp's wild and touching wail,
A melancholy dirge o'er the dead year,
Gone from the earth forever.
PURE.
1. Your voiceless lips, O flowers! are living preachers,
Each cup a pulpit, and each leaf a book,
Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers
In loneliest nook.
2. Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night:
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old; ring in the new;
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going; let him go:
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
3. Was it the chime of a tiny bell
That came so sweet to my dreaming ear,
Like the silvery tones of a fairy's shell,
That he winds on the beach, so mellow and clear,
When the winds and the waves lie together asleep,
And the moon and the fairy are watching the deep,—
She dispensing her silvery light,
And he his notes as silvery quite,—
While the boatman listens, and ships his oar,
To catch the music that comes from the shore?
Hark! the notes on my ear that play
Are set to words: as they float, they say,
"Passing away, passing away!"
OROTUND.
1. Approach and behold while I lift from his sepulchre its covering. Ye admirers of his greatness, ye emulous of his talents and his fame, approach, and behold him now. How pale! how silent! No martial bands admire the adroitness of his movements, no fascinating throng weep and melt and tremble at his eloquence. Amazing change! A shroud, a coffin, a narrow subterraneous cabin,—this is all that now remains of Hamilton. And is this all that remains of him? During a life so transitory, what lasting monument, then, can our fondest hopes erect!
2.A seraph by the throne
In the full glory stood. With eager hand
He smote the golden harp-strings, till a flood
Of harmony on the celestial air
Welled forth unceasing: then with a great voice
He sang the "Holy, holy, evermore,
Lord God Almighty!" and the eternal courts
Thrilled with the rapture; and the hierarchies,
Angel and rapt archangel, throbbed and burned
With vehement adoration. Higher yet
Rose the majestic anthem without pause,—
Higher, with rich magnificence of sound,
To its full strength; and still the infinite heavens
Rang with the "Holy, holy, evermore!"
3. God, thou art mighty. At thy footstool bound,
Lie, gazing to thee, Chance and Life and Death.
Nor in the angel-circle flaming round,
Nor in the million worlds that blaze beneath,
Is one that can withstand thy wrath's hot breath.
Woe in thy frown; in thy smile victory.
Hear my last prayer. I ask no mortal wreath:
Let but these eyes my rescued country see;
Then take my spirit, All-Omnipotent, to thee.
For examples of pure tone, see "Reading Club," No. 1, pages 54 and 82; No. 2, page 63; No. 3, pages 11, 49; No. 4, pages 29, 36, 81.
For orotund, No. 1, page 42; No. 2, page 64; No. 3, page 25; No. 4, page 61.