PATHOS. The proper rendition of all pieces of pure pathos demands chiefly three conditions: First, Natural voice. Second, Effusive utterance. First.-By natural voice we mean the conversational voice, or the voice we all have by nature. Great care should be taken to secure the purest tone, free from all nasal, guttural and pectoral qualities of voice. A clear, pleasant and musical tone is indispensable in securing the best effects. Second. The utterance must be effusive, i. e., flowing from the mouth in a continuous stream of sound. If a staccato or commonplace style of utterance is indulged in, the reading will necessarily degenerate into mere talk, and crush out all sympathetic feeling. Third. In ordinary, unimpassioned speech, the voice passes through the interval of one tone on the musical scale, in the utterance of each word, thus: "That quarter most the skilful Greeks an noy, Monotone. Falling Ditone. Rising Tritone. Rising Ditone. Where yon wild fig trees join the walls of Troy." The radical pitch is represented by the heads of the notes, and the concrete pitch by the short stems of the notes, which, on observation, will be seen to pass to the note above or below the radical. In short, it is impossible for us to utter a word in unimpassioned speech, from its initiation to its close, without passing up or down the musical scale one tone. However, in all plaintive and deeply pathetic moods of mind, we find, on investigation, that the slides of the voice are onehalf as long as they are in ordinary discourse. This unconscious slide of the voice on the minor chord, as exhibited in the plaintive cry of the child, or the weeping utterance of the bereaved mother, is the chief characteristic of voice necessary to the expression of all pathetic selections.* The student should now select one of the pieces given under this head, and endeavor to secure the effects which must follow from a careful application of the foregoing suggestions. It will be found of great service in the acquirement of the semitonic slide, to practice the musical scale, and oftentimes the sympathetic study of a piece, thoroughly saturated with pathetic emotion, is the best aid in the acquisition of the characteristics of voice necessary to the effective rendition of this important class of selections.† SELECTION FROM ENOCH ARDEN. He called aloud for Miriam Lane, and said, "Woman, I have a secret-only swear, Before I tell you—swear upon the book, Not to reveal it till you see me dead." 66 Dead," clamor'd the good woman; "hear him talk! I warrant, man, that we shall bring you round." "Swear," added Enoch, sternly, "on the book." And on the book, half-frighted, Miriam swore. Then Enoch, rolling his gray eyes upon her, "Did you know Enoch Arden, of this town?" "Know him?" she said; "I knew him far away. *It may be well to note that this pathetic slide is not measured by a half tone in all cases, but follows the voice in all its movements up and down the scale on the third, fifth and octave, always vanishing, however, on a minor chord. † Exercises on the vowels should constantly be used, or the vowel sounds in the selections you are rendering. Prolong each vowel with as pure and even a tone as possible, in order that the vocal organs may be trained to the manufacture of the clearest musical sounds, thereby ridding the voice of all harsh and unpleas ant qualities. Evenness and steadiness of tone can only be secured by perfect control in the management of the breath. Ay, ay, I mind him coming down the street; "His head is low, and no man cares for him. Who married-but that name has twice been changed- Sit, listen!" Then he told her of his voyage, Sit down again; mark me and understand, I am their father; but she must not come, That I am he." He ceased; and Miriam Lane Made such a voluble answer, promising all, Then; the third night after this, While Enoch slumber'd, motionless and pale, He woke, he rose, he spread his arms abroad, I am saved!" And so fell back and spoke no more. There was once a boat on a billow: Lightly she rocked to her port remote, And the foam was white in her wake like snow, And her frail mast bowed when the breeze would blow, And bent like a wand of willow. I shaded mine eyes one day when a boat I marked her course 'til a dancing mote I pray you hear my song of a boat, My boat, you shall find none fairer afloat, Long I looked out for the lad she bore, On the open desolate sea, And I think he sailed to the heavenly shore, A song of a nest: Ah me! There was once a nest in a hollow; I pray you, hear my song of a nest, You shall never light, in a summer quest, Shall never light on a prouder sitter, I had a nestful once of my own, Right dearly I loved them; but when they were grown, O, one after one they flew away Far up to the heavenly blue, To the better country, the upper day, |