thing of its musical and more of
its intellectual significance. In the best verse, not every word only,
but every letter, should speak. Nevertheless, his reading is very fine
of its kind, and it is a very rare thing to hear fine reading of any
kind.'

In regard to inflections, or bends, of the voice, of every kind, direct
upward, or downward, or combinations of both, which are called waves
(upward waves being a combination of downward and upward inflections, or
bends, and downward waves the reverse, and double waves being a
combination of upward and downward waves, or the reverse), I would say,
what I have said in my 'Primer of English Verse,' that a reader must
have a sub-consciousness of a dead level, by which, or from which, to
graduate all his departures; and it is only by avoiding all
non-significant departures that he imparts to his hearers a
sub-consciousness of his own standard. There should never be in reading
a non-significant departure from a pure monotony. Significant vocal
intervals lose their effectiveness when they are mixed up with
non-significant ones. Great effects can be secured through very simple
means by a reader who strictly observes this principle. Every little
bend of the voice tells. But a wriggling voice, the general tenor of
which is a violation of this principle, cannot secure such effects. The
hearer is presented with a jumble of non-significant and would-be
significant intervals, which is less effective than a pure monotony
would be.

Appreciative reading is shown as much, perhaps, in what I will call
_time_ melody, as in almost any other feature of vocalization. A
reader's sense of the relative values of successive and involved groups
of thought, is largely indicated by his varied (melodious) rate of
utterance. And much of the pleasure which an appreciative listener
derives from reading, as reading, is this indication on the part of the
reader of a nice estimate of relative values. He feels that the reader
is a qualified interpreter. This estimate cannot always be determined
by what a writer makes, syntactically, principal, and what subordinate,
in the construction of his language. Of course, a mere variation of time
is not, of itself, sufficient. There must be an appropriate variation of
tone-color, etc.

A simile or comparison, for example, must be so read as to indicate the
reader's estimate of what it illustrates; and this is particularly shown
by the accelerated or retarded utter