words which are Italicized, and it is presumed that its use in expressing the feelings of scorn, indignation, and contempt, will be sufficiently apparent.

120.

"Cassius. Urge me no more; I shall forget myself Have mind upon your health: tempt me no further Brutus. Away, slight man.

Cas. Must I endure all this!

Bru. All this! Ay, more. Fret till your proud heart break
Go show your slaves how choleric you are,

And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge!
Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humor?"

FORCE.

121. By the term force, in elocution, is meant that degree of energy with which words and phrases are uttered. The modifications of force do so affect the ear by their distinctive peculiarities, as to constitute a style of utterance, and should therefore be classed among the elements of expression. When skilfully applied, according to the varying demands of the sentiment, this element of expression infuses a life into the style, which arrests the attention and sways the feelings. 122. The terms loud, soft, and suppressed,- or strong, feeble, and suppressed, are used to signify the variations of this attribute of the voice. Loudness of voice is appropriated to states of mind associated with energy of feeling, triumphant exultation, and violent passion, as may be perceived in the following extracts:

123.

"Now strike the golden lyre again;

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain!

Break his bands of sleep asunder,

And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder!

124. "If they rule, it shall be over our ashes and graves; But we've smote them already with fire on the waves, And new triumphs on land are before us.

To the charge! Heaven's banner is o'er us."

125. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave,

And charge with all thy chivalry!"

"Wave Mu

126. The expressions, "On, ye brave," nich," "And charge," - denote feelings of triumphant exultation; and the utterance of these feelings requires a due degree of loudness, an elevated pitch, extended quantity, median stress, and a well-regulated, tremulous movement. The tremulous movement should be applied mainly to the words on " and "charge." This will enable the reader to impress the sentiment much more vividly than he could by omitting the tremulous movement.

127. Many sentiments depend entirely on loudness for their character; such as anger, danger, ferocity, and revenge; and others again depend chiefly upon it as they assume its character; such as joy, laughter, and astonishment, as in the following extracts:

128. "And longer had she sung - but, with a frown,
Revenge impatient rose.

He threw his blood-stained sword in thunder down,
And, with a withering look,

The war-denouncing trumpet took,

And blew a blast so loud and dread,

Were ne'er prophetic sounds so full of woe.

129. "Tubal. Yes, other men have ill luck too. heard in Genoa,

Shylock. What, what, what? Ill luck? ill luck?

Tub.

Shy.

Antonio, as I

hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis. Is it true? is it true?

Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck.

Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal.

Good news, gooa news! Ha,

130. "But hark! -That heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat;

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before !

Arm! arm! It is it is the cannons' opening roar

EEBLENESS OF VOICE.

31. Feebleness of voice is an element the reverse of the last. There are some states of the mind that are properly portrayed by feebleness of voice; and there are other conditions of the mind, akin to these, which are always manifested by feebleness or softness of voice. Of this class are modesty, caution, doubt, irresolution, resignation, and despondency, as may be seen in the following extracts:

132. Wolsey. Why, how now, Cromwell?

Cromwell. I have no power to speak, sir.
Wol. What! amazed

At my misfortunes? Can thy spirit wonder
A great man should decline? Nay, ar.' you weep,
I am fallen indeed.

Crom. How does your grace?

Wol. Why, well;

A still and quiet conscience. The king has cured me,
I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders,
These ruined pillars, out of pity, taken

A load would sink a navy-too much honor:

O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden,

Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.

Crom. I am glad your grace has made that right use of it
Wol. I hope I have. I am able now, methinks,

Out of a fortitude of soul I feel,

To endure more miseries, and greater far,

Than my weak hearted enemies dare offer

133. "Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear
In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me,
Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.
Let's dry our eyes; and thus far hear me, Cromwell;
And- when I am forgotten, as I shall be,
And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention
Of me more must be heard of—say, I taught thee;
Say, Wolsey-that once trod the ways of glory,
And sounded all the depths and shoals of honor —
Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in;
A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.
Mark but my fall, and that that ruined me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels: how can man, then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by't?

Love thyself last. Cherish those hearts that hate thee
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

To silence envious tongues. Be just and fear not
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,

Thy God's, and truth's. Then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwel.,
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!

Serve the king;

There take an inventory of all I have,

To the last penny: 'tis the king's. My robe,
And my integrity to Heaven, is all

I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell,
Had I but served my God with half the zeal
I served my king, he would not in mine age
Have left me naked to mine enemies."

134. "Would I had never trod this English earth,
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
I am the most unhappy woman living:
Shipwrecked upon a kingdom, where no pity,
No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me,

Almost no grave allowed me. Like the lily,

That once was mistress of the field, and flourished,
I'll hang my head and perish."

135. "She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lip, and a tear in her eye;
And the bride-maidens whispered, 'Twere better by far
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar '

SUPPRESSED FORCE.

136. There are some conditions of the mind demanding a highly intensive degree of force; and there are some emotions occasioned by alarm, terror, or fearful apprehensions, which at once excite the voice, and suppress the loudness of utterance.

--

137. When the force of feeling is such as to get the entire control of the speaker; when he would imbody and unbosom that which is most within him; when he would "wreak his thoughts upon expression," and throw his whole soul, heart, mind, passions, all that he seeks, knows, bears, and feels, into a few words; when his mind is in a state of perturbation, confusion, and perplexity, arising from the sudden conflict of violent passions; when his soul is overwhelmed in violent, tumultuous, and conflicting emotions; - then his language will necessarily partake of the perturbation of his mind, and incoherent hints, precipitate sallies, vehement exclamations, bold figures, laconic, abrupt, desultory expressions, will then be thrown out with such explosive energy, that the degree of aspiration must necessarily destroy that pure vocality, and partially suppress that intonation, which are the accompaniments of ordinary degrees of force, and the usual constituents of loudness. This may be fully exemplified in the reading of the following extracts.

138. "Banished from Rome! What's banished, but set free
From daily contact of the things I loathe?

Tried and convicted traitor!'- Who says this?
Who'll prove it, at his peril, on my head?

this hour;

Banished! I thank you for't. It breaks my chain
I held some slack allegiance till
But now my sword's my own.

Smile on, my lords.
I scorn to count what feelings, withered hopes,
Strong provocations, bitter, burning wrongs,
I have within my heart's hot cells shut up,
To leave you in your lazy dignities.

But here I stand and scoff you;-here I fling
Hatred and full defiance in your face.