the laugh, unless the vanish is stressed. A subdued laugh of appreciation is often heard, which consists of an indefinite number of syllables, in pairs or triplets, all the accents rising thirds, and all the notes having the same radical pitch. It is indicated in Notation 10; to which the 'h-a-h!' is added by way of finish.

The unaccented syllables have not only less force, abruptness, and volume, but they usually receive the smaller interval of the rising third, or, frequently, of the unemphatic second. Sometimes a laugh breaks out loudly at a high pitch, and comes downward, tone by tone, a whole octave, gradually diminishing in force and volume; and the notes of all the syllables in the last two or three measures are reduced to the interval of the second; as indicated in Notation 5. Again, the sweep begins at middle pitch, or lower, on concrete seconds, or thirds and seconds, runs upward, terrace-fashion, with increasing force, volume, and accentedsyllable interval; and the series ends with climax fullness on the final 'top note', which is a wide falling slide or wave.

Hearty laughter calls into play the fullest action of the organs of breathing; the throat and mouth are generously expanded, with their muscles firmly tensed, but elastic. It is most wholesome exercise for voice, mind, body, and soul. Since the breath is rapidly expended, be careful not to empty the lungs so far that you find them completely exhausted, and are compelled to renew breath with a spasmodic, painful gasp. At first, make your groups short, and gradually extend their length, as you gain in facility. Be especially careful not to gasp! It will do no harm to practice until you are reasonably tired, but don't 'laugh till your sides ache.'

Along with this practice of syllabicated laughter, flexibility and dexterity of voice and critical keenness of ear will be furthered by laughing-tremor practice of hủ, hä, hạ, hō, and

he, with rising and falling slides and falling waves; traversed sometimes slowly and again quite rapidly. Study Mercutio's 'Queen Mab Speech' and Jaques's 'A fool! a fool! I met a fool i' th' forest', with the laughing-tremor utterance and runs of laughter, where you deem them appropriate.

'Practice makes perfect,' if you know what and how to practice,—and if you keep at it. As you improve, and your laughs at length resemble laughter, they begin to mean what they stand for. Then your task becomes enjoyment; you feel the fun of it; and soon you are laughing in good faith. That is a happy time: but be careful to keep 'within the limits of becoming mirth'; don't permit yourself to be slipshod and boisterous; work to acquire such a mastery of these rudiments that your own personal laugh, of whatever kind or degree, shall ring true, and charm every hearer with its jocund music.

Of course, in character reading, acting, and impersonation, music must often be sacrificed to truth: we must make the laugh ugly, if that belongs to the character or the mood. So, practice all kinds of laughs, the wheedling laugh, the patronizing laugh, the sneering laugh, the giggle, the mocking laugh, the triumphant laugh, the lackadaisical laugh, the horselaugh, the suave, deferential laugh of the salesman, the sardonic laugh, the angry laugh, the miser's laugh, the foolish laugh, the chuckle, the cackling laugh of senility,all the laughs of humanity, except the laugh of the maniac. There, as I think, the line should be strictly drawn; for success would be demoralizing, if not actually dangerous.

The practice of hearty, full-throated laughter is an excellent auxiliary exercise for developing and improving the orotund. Keep the range of pitch in the middle, the moderately high, and the moderately low. Breathe deeply; keep the diaphragm firm; open the throat and mouth; and avoid shrillness on the higher notes and flatness and feebleness on the lower. Let your laugh ring!

THE EXPRESSIVE MELODIC SWEEPS.

In earnest and in impassioned speech, whole phrases and groups as already partially illustrated, assume melodic outlines similar in audible effect and expressive purpose to the emphatic inflections. In other words, every emphatic inflection in actual use is the prototype of a Melodic Sweep, or Run. Study, observation, and practice of these, and afterward their appropriate application, will greatly conduce to truthful and eloquent oratorical and dramatic delivery. It is the master-key to that final charm in reading and speaking that elicits the comment, 'How natural! If you didn't see the book, you wouldn't believe it was reading'; and makes it difficult to realize that the carefully prepared address is not the unpremeditated outpouring of the moment.

These melodic outlines, contours, or tunes, were called by Professor Henry Mandeville Sweeps; and, as the word well describes their audible effect, I adopt it. I believe that Professor Mandeville was the first to point out the existence of these Sweeps: but his scheme and method were based on syntactical structure alone; which does not, and cannot, more than in a limited degree, govern the expressive melody of speech. Motive-purpose-governs melody, as well as the other uses of pitch; and melody is the especial channel through which the motive is revealed.

MOTIVE VS. VERBAL FORM.-The verbal form is plastic material, which the voice molds into specific meaning and

purpose.

To illustrate: The imperative verbal form is not always used with the imperative intention; and the turn, tune, melody, run, or sweep, of the voice it is, that conveys the motive, and so reveals the speaker's real meaning.

1. Here is an instance of real imperative, where the verbal form and the motive coincide.

Up! all who love me! Blow on blow!
And lay the outlawed felons low!

2. In the first example following, the first two clauses are imperative in form, but conditional in motive, and should be read according to the motive.

Commit our people once to unnecessary foreign wars,-let victory encourage the military spirit, already too prevalent among them, and Roman history will have no chapter bloody enough to be transmitted to posterity side by side with ours.

Here again the imperative clause is to be rendered as a condition:

Give me that man

That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.

And here is a long series of imperative constructions that are to be interpreted as conditional:

Come to the bridal-chamber, Death!
Come to the mother, when she feels
For the first time her first-born's breath;
Come when the blessed seals
That close the pestilence are broke,
And crowded cities wail its stroke;
Come in consumption's ghastly form,-
The earthquake's shock,-the ocean storm;
Come when the heart beats high and warm
With banquet-song, and dance, and wine,-
And thou art terrible: the tear,

The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier,
And all we know, or dream, or fear
Of agony are thine.

3. Sometimes the imperative verbal form is used with the motive of warning, threat, or remonstrance, and this motive the right vocal tune alone can convey:—

Look to it:

Consider, William: take a month to think,
And let me have an answer to my wish;
Or by the Lord that made me, you shall pack,
And never more darken my doors again.

The imperative verbal form is often used, when the mental attitude is that of assent, yielding, submission, the antipodes of the imperative attitude; as in Hamlet's words to his father's ghost,

Go on; I'll follow thee.

If 'Go on' be read with the imperative vocal form, and sometimes, alas! it is,-the awe and filial love and obedience of Hamlet's intention are utterly crossed out, and he 'bullies the bulky phantom.'

5. The motive may be encouragement, reassurance, as:Come on, my boy!-don't be afraid of a little thing like that!

Jump up, and try again! Never say die! Go in and win! 6. Very frequently, the motive is request, petition, coaxing, pleading, apology. With this motive, the construction is called subjunctive by some grammarians; but the verbal form is imperative.

Don't go out to-night,-say you won't!

Give me your pardon!

Give us this day our daily bread.

Bear with him, Brutus; 'tis his fashion.

Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear

That keeps you in the house, and not your own.
We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house,
And he shall say, you are not well to-day:
Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this.