Sounds are distinguished from each other by their intensity, pitch, or timbre. The intensity or loudness of a sound will always depend on the extent of the vibrations of the sounding body. By varying the force of the concussion, as when we beat a drum, or when we put our vocal cords in action in speaking or singing, by directing the current of air against them through the windpipe and larynx ; by varying the force of the impact and rendering it more or less powerful, we can from the same instrument produce at will sounds differing in degrees of loudness. The intensity of the sound heard by us will also depend on our nearness or remoteness from it, and sound also in this respect seems subject to the same law as light-viz., that it will diminish in force in proportion to the square of the distance. This law, however, only applies to sounds that reach us immediately from the instrument that produces them through the medium of the air; for when sounds are confined within tubes, as in the case of the speaking-trumpet, so that the sound-waves cannot diverge, but are successively reflected from the sides of the interior of the trumpet, the voice may be conveyed to a very considerable distance, which, but for such an instrument, it could not, under opposing circumstances (such as when the captain gives his orders to his crew on board ship in a gale of wind), possibly have reached. In this way even whispers may be rendered audible at a long distance, as in the case of the common indiarubber speaking-tube, so familiar to us in our countinghouses and offices.

Now, with regard to the pitch, tone or note in the musical scale, whether of the human voice as produced by the vocal cords, or of the string of the harp, or any other instrument that depends entirely upon the number of vibrations or sound-waves that take place in a second of time, the less frequent the vibrations of a sounding body, the graver or lower in the scale will be the sound produced, and the more frequent the vibrations, the higher or more acute will be the sound that is heard. The lower or graver the sound, the longer in extent is each of the soundwaves produced by the vibrations, and the higher or more acute, the shorter is each wave. "It has been generally assumed," says Dr. Hunt, "that the lowest or gravest sound which the human ear is capable of perceiving is formed of thirty-two vibrations in a second." M. Savart, on the other hand, from numerous experiments, has come to the conclusion that the perceptive power of man in relation to musical sounds, extends from only seven vibrations in a second, to the enormous number of twenty-four thousand vibrations in a second.

Dr. Wollaston considered that the power of the human ear to perceive sounds in regard to rapid vibrations, extended but a very few notes above the sound produced by the field cricket. He states that he had known several persons whose hearing was considered generally good, but who had never been able to hear the chirping of the common house cricket; whence he concluded that the faculty of hearing certain notes did not depend so much upon the intensity of the sound as upon the pitch or number of vibrations in a second. It is asserted that the chirp of the long-eared bat is the most acute sound produced by any animal, and that on the average in a company of six persons, there will be found one who

cannot distinguish the sound. The timbre, quality, expression, or clang, depends on the nature of the vibrating body, whether it be the vocal cords of the human larynx, or the strings of the harp, or the tube of the trumpet, or any other kind of musical instrument. By the term is understood a certain peculiarity which enables us to discriminate the individual voices of two speakers or singers, or two similar notes in the scale produced by two different instruments of the same description, such as the piano or violin. A distinguishable sound composed of precisely double the number of vibrations is termed its octave, and the intermediate seven sounds form the diatonic scale or gamut, as it is usually termed in music.

What constitutes the difference between musical sounds and those sounds which we call mere noises? This-that musical sound is the result of periodic, isochronous, or equal-toned vibrations, of the atmosphere, i.e. vibrations following one another at an appreciable pace or rate. Sounds of which the vibrations are irregular in their succession, and the pace of which is therefore inappreciable, are mere noises.

Though instances are to be met with of persons wholly insensible to the beauty of musical sounds, whether of the human voice or of some instrument of music, and who cannot even distinguish between one air or tune and another (Dr. Johnson, the great Lexicographer, was one to whom all music, however excellent, sounded as mere noise), yet still, for the enjoyment of mankind, such instances are comparatively rare; and to most ears musical sounds are much more agreeable than unmusical. Music is undoubtedly preferable, and by the world in general is preferred to mere noise. But musical sounds have the advantage not only from the pleasure they afford the ear and mind, but isochronous vibrations, which I have said from that very fact constitute musical sounds, are far more extensive in their range than others, and are audible and appreciable at far greater distances. As Professor Hullah says in familiar language, music "travels farther" than noise, and this is equally true of the music of speech as of the music of song or any other kind of music. The recognition of this unquestionable fact can be traced up to the earliest dawn of oratory. You may perceive its truth when you listen to the oldest and simplest form of ecclesiastical chant, or even in the natureprompted utterance of some street criers. If you have been in Paris in the autumn and listened, as I often have, to the peculiar musical cry of “Pommes de Chartreux," or in Edinburgh at the herring season, and heard the Newhaven "fishwives" call out their "caller herring and cod" (an illustration quoted by Professor Hullah, with the exact notes in the musical scale given to each syllable), I think you must have been struck, as I have often been, with the enormous distances, comparatively, to which not merely the sounds but the words conveyed by them reached the ear.

I am entering into all these details for the purpose of gradually leading you on, and preparing you, I hope, to understand more easily the important subject on which I shall enter in my next Lecture-viz., the Inflections of the Voice and now, for the rest of my remarks this evening, I must once for all express my great obligations to Professor

Hullah for the illustrations he has given, and views he has advanced in his excellent book so recently published, in support of those theories and principles which I have endeavoured every Session for the past ten years to impress upon the minds of all the students who have attended my classes in this College, and I gladly avail myself of his high authority to confirm now what I have always maintained and advocated.

"The first person" (says Professor Hullah) "who ever attempted to address a very large assembly must have discovered, by the time he had uttered a dozen words, that if what he had to say was to be made not only audible but intelligible to any but those immediately about him, his utterance must be partially musical; and that the more numerous his audience, and the larger his auditorium, the more musical must that utterance be. If it is true, then, which few will be found to dispute, that musical is more agreeable than any other kind of sound; and (which may not be at first equally obvious, but is equally true) that musical is audible over a greater area than any other kind of sound,—it would seem desirable to introduce as much as possible of it into our utterance, whether it be addressed to few or to many, in small places or in large. Indeed, universal assent to this might seem to be implied in the epithet, more than any other, by which a pleasing voice is characterised. The epithets strong, clear, sweet (figurative all three), are no doubt familiar to us in connection with voices; as are their opposites, feeble, husky, and harsh. But by universal consent, the highest tribute to the excellence of a voice is conveyed in the word musical, not used figuratively or analogically, but simply and directly. By a musical voice is always meant a voice, the very sound of which gives pleasure, although irrespective of, or (it may be safer to say) over and above the sense conveyed by it."

It would seem that the sweetness and power of vocal utterance are greater or less as they are more or less musical; and, to advance another step, that words spoken fall more or less pleasantly upon the ear, and also spread themselves over a larger area, as they approximate to, or partake of, the character of words sung. Yet the two acts of speaking and singing are different acts notwithstanding; they have their different uses and their different occasions of use- -occasions when it would be most inconvenient and impertinent to exchange them. And unless we keep this in mind we may injure both; rob song of its special charm and make speech ridiculous. How is speech to be made more musical without being turned into song? We shall be able to answer this question more confidently by-and-by. As a good preliminary foundation for what I shall enter upon fully in my next Lecture, let us ascertain what are the particulars in which speech and song essentially differ from, as well as resemble, each other.

In speech, then, the voice glides up and down what, by an allowable figure, may be called an inclined plane; in song it makes steps, the proportion of which to one another are ascertained.

Speech is for the most part heard only during the passage of the voice from one sound to another; it is the result of intervals: in song intervals are traversed silently, and the voice is heard only on sounds-the

[LECT. VI. terms or boundaries of intervals. The variations of the inflections of the voice in speech may be compared to the effect produced by sliding the finger up and down the vibrating string, such as that of the violin when it is being played on: those in song to that produced by "stopping such a string at certain points and at no others. In brief, speech consists almost exclusively) for we do not often make use of the staccato in delivery) of concrete sounds; song almost exclusively of discrete sounds. But as the difference between speech and song are great, so also are their resemblances. True speech consists of concrete, and song of discrete sounds; but sounds are sounds, whether concrete or discrete. Moreover, in speech and in song they are produced by the same instrument-the voice; and though in a somewhat different manner, yet by the same mechanism, and governed by the same laws; similar varieties of pitch, intensity, and even timbre resulting from its action on both, only resulting more frequently and rapidly in the music of speech than in the music of song; and when all those elements which form the music of speech are developed and cultivated by judicious instruction, based upon sound and scientific principles on the part of the teacher, and regular and careful practice on the part of the pupil, the process by which those elements are brought to their highest attainable perfection is that which I understand by what is called the "Art of Elocution."

LECTURE VII.

Theory of the Inflections of the Human Voice-Practical illustration-Inflections of the Voice as a means of expression natural to man-Remarks of Mr. Darwin, Mr. Herbert Spencer, and Mr. Litchfield-The first attempt to reduce the Inflection of the Voice to a System of Notation made by Joshua Steele in 1775 in his "Prosodia Rationalis,” David Garrick and Steele-The use of the Inflections known to the Greek and Roman Orators-Quotation from Quinctilian-Walker's views in regard to the Two Primary Inflections-Great importance of a knowledge of the chief principles that govern the Inflections in regard to Elocution.

N this Lecture I have to enter fully upon what I think a most interesting branch of our subject, viz., the inflections of the human voice-what these are and in what they differ from the music of song, I endeavoured to explain in the concluding part of my last Lecture. But to make the matter clearer, let me take this personal and practical illustration-I assume that one of you is a man of quick intelligence and good powers of imagination-one who can enter vividly into the feelings, passions, and emotions contained in a fine poem or drama. I assume, too, that he has become well skilled in that all important point, the right mode of managing the breath in inspiration, and its right control in expiration when reading aloud or speaking in public; so that all his clauses and sentences can flow on smoothly, and without any failure as regards purity of tone and power, and that he well observes the laws of the prosody of our language, that the vowels which are long are properly sustained and finished after they have been truly formed, while there is no undue prolongation of the vowels which are short, and that all the consonants of his words are clearly articulated-On these assumptions, what shall we have? We shall have, at all events, a clear and audible voice and a distinct pronunciation. But I assume that his acquaintance with the art of Elocution has not gone beyond this-so for the effect of anything he has to deliver he must depend upon the guidance of his own taste, feelings, and discretion. All these let us take to be good, that he is free from any affectation or mannerism, and is a man gifted by nature with a strong dramatic power in the true and high sense of the word, that is, the power of truly conceiving to himself, and then conveying to others, the various passions and emotions of humanity—I ask such a man to read