or the grave.
Campbell.
7.
Charcoal! Charcoal! Charcoal!
8.
Hurrah! Hurrah!! Hurrah!!!
LOW PITCH.
Low Pitch is used to express grave, grand, solemn, and reverential feelings, and is very effective in reading.
To obtain a good control of the voice in Low Pitch, first practice the examples given under the High Pitch, until you are fatigued, then after resting the lungs and vocal organs, practice the lowest and deepest tone you can command, giving, however, a full clear and resonant sound.
1.
Seems, Madam! Nay, it is; I know not 'seems,'
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath;
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
That can denote me truly: these indeed, seem,
For they are actions that a man might play;
But I have that within that passes show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Shakespeare.
2.
Then the earth shook and trembled: the foundations of Heaven moved and shook, because he was wroth. There went up a smoke out of his nostrils; and fire out his mouth devoured; coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens, also, and came down; and darkness was under his feet; and he rode upon a cherub, and did fly; and he was seen upon the wings of the wind; and he made darkness pavilions round about him, dark waters, and thick clouds of the skies. The Lord thundered from heaven, and the Most High uttered his voice; and he sent out arrows and scattered them; lightning and discomfited them. And the channels of the sea appeared; the foundations of the world were discovered at the rebuking of the Lord, at the blast of the breath of his nostrils.
3.
I am thy father's spirit;
Doomed for a certain term to walk the night,
And for the day confined to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature,
Are burned and purged away.
Shakespeare.
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight;
Thou only God! There is no God beside!
Being above all beings! Three-in-One!
Whom none can comprehend, and none explore;
Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone;
Embracing all—supporting—ruling o'er—
Being whom we call God—and know no more!
Derzhaver.
TRANSITION.
Transition signifies a sudden change in the force, quality, movement, or pitch of the voice, as from a subdued to a very high tone, from a slow to a rapid rate of utterance, and also the reverse of these movements. It also refers to changes in the style of delivery, as from a persuasive to the declamatory, etc., and to the expression of passion or emotion, as from grief to joy, from fear to courage, etc.
Transition thus forms a very important part in vocal culture, and public speakers often ask the question: "How can I modulate my voice?" for they are well aware that nothing relieves the ear more agreeably than a well regulated transition, for who has not been bored by listening to a speaker whose voice throughout has been pitched in one monotonous tone, either too high or too low? A change of delivery is also necessary when a new train of thought is introduced, for pitch, tone, quality, time, and force should all be changed in conformity with the changes of sentiment. No definite rules can be laid down in relation to the proper management of the voice in transition which would be intelligible without the living teacher to exemplify them. Constant practice must be persevered in to enable the pupil to make the necessary transitions with skill and ease.
[This selection demands the entire range of the speaking voice, in pitch—all qualities, and varied force.]
Hark! the alarm bell, 'mid the wintry storm!
Hear the loud shout! the rattling engines swarm.
Hear that distracted mother's cry to save
Her darling infant from a threatened grave!
That babe who lies in sleep's light pinions bound,
And dreams of heaven, while hell is raging round!
Forth springs the Fireman—stay! nor tempt thy fate!—
He hears not—heeds not—nay, it is too late!
See how the timbers crash beneath his feet!
O, which way now is left for his retreat?
The roaring flames already bar his way,
Like ravenous demons raging for their prey!
He laughs at danger—pauses not for rest,
Till the sweet charge is folded to his breast.
Now, quick, brave youth, retrace your path;—but lo!
A fiery gulf yawns fearfully below!
One desperate leap!—lost! lost!—the flames arise
And paint their triumph on the o'erarching skies!
Not lost! again his tottering form appears!
The applauding shouts of rapturous friends he hears!
The big drops from his manly forehead roll,
And deep emotions thrill his generous soul.
But struggling nature now reluctant yields;
Down drops the arm the infant's face that shields,
To bear the precious burthen all too weak;
When, hark!—the mother's agonising shriek!
Once more he's roused—his eye no longer swims,
And tenfold strength reanimates his limbs;
