to which this observation may be added, that as the rising inflection ought to be adopted on each question, the voice will be very apt to get too high near the end; for which purpose it will be necessary to swell the voice a little below its highest pitch; and if we cannot rise with ease and clearness on every particular to the last, we ought to augment the force on each, that the whole may form a species of climax.

Rule V. When we would strengthen the voice in the middle tone, it will be necessary to exercise the voice on very passionate speeches by pronouncing them in a loud tone, without suffering the voice to rise with the force, but preserving all the energy and loudness we are able, in the middle tone of voice.

The challenge of Macbeth to Banquo's ghost, is a proper passage for this exercise of the middle tone of voice.

What man dare I dare:

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros or Hyrcanian tyger;
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble. Be alive again,

And dare me to the desart with thy sword;
If trembling I inhibit, then protest me

The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow,
Unreal mock'ry, hence!

Rule VI. When we have exerted the voice to the highest pitch, it will be necessary to bring it down to a lower, by beginning the succeeding sentence in a lower tone of voice, if the nature of the sentence will permit ; and if we are speaking extempore, it will be proper to form the sentence in such a manner as to make it naturally require a lower tone. A good praxis for recovering the voice when it is carried to its utmost pitch is the furious resentment and indignation of Posthumus against himself for giving credit to the infidelity of Imogen.

Jachimo. This Posthumus-methinks I see him now-
Post. Ay, so thou dost,

Italian fiend! ah me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, any thing,

That's due to all the villains past, in being,
To come-oh give me cord, or knife, or poison,
Some upright justicer? Thou king, send out
For torturers ingenious; it is I

That all th' abhorred things o'th'earth amend
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus
That killed thy daughter; villain-like, I lie,
That caus'd a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief to do't. The temple
Of virtue was she, yea, and she herself-
Spit and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The dogs o'th' street to bait me: every villain
Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus, and
Be villany less than 'twas. Oh! Imogen,
My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
Imogen! Imogen !

In this example we find the fury of the passion very apt to carry the voice too high, but the poet has very judiciously thrown in breaks and alterations in the passion, which give the speaker an opportunity of lowering and altering his voice. Thus the voice is at its highest pitch of rage at to come, when the break and different shade of the same passion, at Ơ give me cord, &c. affords an opportunity of lowering the voice by means of a mixture of intreaty. The voice is at its utmost extent of height at kill'd thy daughter; as in this passage he declares openly his guilt, in order to provoke his punishment; but the next clause, villain-like, I lie, gives a different shade of force to the voice by a mixture of remorse. The next sentence, The temple of virtue, &c. has a regret and tenderness in it that affords an alteration of voice; but as this alteration slides into extreme grief, in which the voice is very apt to go too high, the next sentence, Spit and throw stones, &c. by the deep hatred it falls into, gives the speaker an oppor

tunity of lowering and recovering the force of his voice, in order to conclude with that force and tenderness which the latter part of the speech necessarily requires. Thus, by properly distinguishing the different shades and mixtures of the passions, we not only produce variety, but afford the voice such resources of energy, as can alone support it in the pronunciation.

Rule VII. When we are speaking extempore, and have carried the voice to its utmost extent in a high key, in order to bring it down to a lower, we ought, if possible, to adopt some passion which requires a low key; such as shame, hatred, admonition, &c. as in the spirited speech of T. Quintius to the Roman people, quoted under Rule IV.

The same may be observed of the speech of the Angel, in Milton, to Satan.

Think we such toils, such cares disturb the peace
Of heav'n's blest habitants ---alike I scorn

Thy person, and imposture.

Milton.

The former part of this speech raises the voice to the highest pitch, and is finely relieved and contrasted by the low tone which scorn requires in the conclusion.

GESTURE.

GESTURE, considered as a just and elegant adaptation of every part of the body to the nature and import of the subject we are pronouncing, has always been considered as one of the most essential parts of oratory. Its power, as Cicero observes, is much greater than that of words. It is the language of nature in the strictest sense, and makes its way to the heart, without the utterance of a

single sound. Ancient and modern orators are full of the power of action; and action, as with the illustrious Grecian orator, seems to form the beginning, the middle, and end of oratory.

Such, however, is the force of custom, that though we all confess the power and necessity of this branch of publick speaking, we find few, in our own country at least, that are hardy enough to put it in practice. The most accomplished speakers in the British Senate are very faulty in their use of action, and it is remarkable that those who are excellent in every other part of oratory are very deficient in this. The truth is, though the reason of action in speaking is in the nature of things, the difficulty of acquiring the other requisites of an orator, and the still greater difficulty of attaining excellence in action, (which after all our pains is less esteemed than excellencies of another kind); these, I say, seem to be the reasons why action is so little cultivated among us to this we may add, that so different are national tastes in this particular, that hardly any two people agree in the just proportion of this so celebrated quality of an orator. Perhaps the finished action of a Cicero or a Demosthenes would scarcely be borne in our times, though accompanied with every other excellence. The Italians and French, though generally esteemed better publick speakers than the English, appear to us to overcharge their oratory with action; and some of their finest strokes of action would, perhaps, excite our laughter. The oratory, therefore, of the Greeks and Romans in this point, is as ill suited to a British auditor, as the accent and quantity of the ancients is to the English language. The common feelings of nature, with the signs that express them, undergo a kind of modification, which is suitable to the taste and genius of every nation ; and it is this national taste which must necessarily

be the vehicle of every thing we convey agreeably to the publick we belong to. Whether the action of the ancients was excessive, or whether that of the English be not too scanty, is not the question: those who would succeed as English orators must speak to English taste; as a general must learn the modern exercise of arms to command modern armies, and not the discipline and weapons of the ancients.

But though the oratory of the moderns does not require all those various evolutions of gesture which was almost indispensable in the ancients, yet a certain degree of it must necessarily enter into the composition of every good speaker and reader. To be perfectly motionless while we are pronouncing words which require force and energy, is not only depriving them of their necessary support, but rendering them unnatural and ridiculous. A very vehement address, pronounced without any motion but that of the lips and tongue, would be a burlesque upon the meaning, and produce laughter; nay, so unnatural is this total absence of gesticulation, that it is not very easy to speak in this manner.

As some action, therefore, must necessarily accompany our words, it is of the utmost consequence, that this be such as is suitable and natural. No matter how little, if it be but akin to the words and passion; for if foreign to them, it counteracts and destroys the very intention of delivery. The voice and gesture may be said to be tuned to each other and if they are in a different key, as it may be called, discord must inevitably be the consequence. An awkward action, and such as is unsuitable to the words and passion, is the body out of tune, and gives the eye as much pain as discord does the ear.

In order therefore to gain a just idea of suitable action and expression, it will be necessary to observe that every passion, emotion, and sentiment, has a