9.

Gone, art thou, Marion, Marion Moore !
Gone, like the breeze o'er the billow that bloweth ;
Gone, like the rill to the ocean that floweth ;
Gone, as the day from the gray mountain goeth;
Darkness behind thee, but glory before.

Marion Moore.

Jas. G. Clark.

Io. Now the world slopes away to the afternoon sun— Steady one! steady all! The down grade has begun. Let the engines take breath, they have nothing to do, For the law that swings worlds will whirl the train through.

Streams of fire from the wheels,

Like flashes from the fountains ;

And the dizzy train reels

As it swoops down the mountains :
And fiercer and faster

As if demons drove tandem

Engines "Death" and "Disaster!"

From dumb Winter to Spring in one wonderful hour;
From Nevada's white wing to Creation in flower!
December at morning tossing wild in its might—
A June without warning and blown roses at night!
Benj. F. Taylor.

Overland Train.

Iliad, Book III.

STYLE.

But when he speaks, what Elocution flows!
Soft as the fleeces of descending snows:
The copious accents fall with easy art,
Melting they fall, and sink into the heart.

Homer [Pope's Tr.]

THE Colloquial constitutes the basis of all other styles. It is the golden thread that runs through the warp and woof of speech. It is to this that the attention of the student should first be called.

More practice is needed in the colloquial style of reading and speaking than in any other. There is far too much declaiming in the declamatory, too much of the dramatic in drama, and not enough talking anywhere.

In impassioned expression, the colloquial may be lost for awhile, like some of the streams of California, to reappear farther down the channel of thought.

In many of the paragraphs given below, in which the colloquial predominates, other styles that contribute to the mixed emotions frequently appear, and should not be ignored.

The Colloquial prevails in the Narrative, the Descriptive, the Didactic, and in Dialogue and Drama.

The Parliamentary and Declamatory styles predominate in Deliberative Address, in Recitation, and in Oratory.

In the portrayal of the Passions, the Dramatic style prevails, and is largely characterized by "Action."

Personation is the representing of different characters. Its scope comprises and utilizes all the different styles employed in vocal and physical expression.

In exemplifying the various styles, the student should first study each selection until the general spirit, the pervading thought and emotion of the passage, is well understood and felt, and then he should endeavor to render it in the most natural manner consistent with the required expression.

These directions should be followed in the study and practice of all the exercises given for elocutionary drill.

The different emotions embodied in language should be studied and practiced by the student until the words—and the emotions, if possible—become his own, and will prompt to the same expression as would similar passions uncoerced by the will. This is the highest attainment in the art, and one which every student of elocution should aim to reach.

That this ideal standard may be attained, is clearly shown in the following lines from Hamlet after his interview with the players :

Is it not monstrous, that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit,
That from her workings, all his visage wan'd;
Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect,

A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit ?

I.

Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet

Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
More free from peril than the envious court?

Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,
The season's difference,-as, the icy fang,
The churlish chiding of the winter's wind,
Which when it bites and blows upon my body,
Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say
"This is no flattery, - these are counselors
That feelingly persuade me what I am."
Sweet are the uses of adversity;

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head :

And this our life, exempt from public haunt,

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.

As You Like It, Act II., Sc. 1.

2.

Shakespeare.

Laugh, if you like to! Laugh till you're gray;
But I guess you'd laugh another way

If you'd hit your toe, and fallen like me,
And cut a bloody gash in your knee,

And bumped your nose and bruised your shin,
Tumbled over the rolling-pin

That rolled to the floor in the awful din

That followed the fall of the row of tin
That stood upon the dresser.

Bitter Sweet.

Holland.

3. "Hush, Rip," cried she, "hush, you little fool; the old man won't hurt you." The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. "What is your name, my good woman?" asked he.

"Judith Gardenier."

"And your father's name?"

་་

'Ah, poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name, but it's twenty years since he went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard of since,—his dog came home without him; but whether he shot himself, or was carried

away by the Indians, nobody can tell. I was then but a little girl."

Rip had but one question more to ask; but he put it with a faltering voice:

"Where's your mother?"

Oh, she too had died but a short time since; she broke a blood-vessel in a fit of passion at a New England peddler."

There was a drop of comfort, at least, in this intelligence. The honest man could contain himself no longer. He caught his daughter and her child in his arms. "I am your father!" cried he—“ Young Rip Van Winkle once-old Rip Van Winkle now!-Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle?" Rip Van Winkle.

4.

Tom.

5.

་་

Oh! you'd admire

To see Robin now, he's as bright as a dime,
Deep in some mischief, too, most of the time.
Tom, it was, saved him. Now isn't it true,
Tom's the best fellow that ever you knew?
There's Robin now-see! he's strong as a log-
And there comes Tom, too,-

Yes, Tom was our dog.

"Oh, father! I hear the sound of guns,

Oh, say, what may it be?"

"Some ship in distress that cannot live

In such an angry sea!"

Wreck of the Hesperus.

Irving.

C. F. Woolson.

Longfellow.

"

And Ruben slid

The fastenings back, and the door undid.

"Keep dark!" said he,

While I squint and see what the' is to see.

He's opened the winder,-I see his head.