such as we should feel comfortable in repeating without music. A moment's reflection must show that this excuse has not a shadow of reason in it. Like every other gift, a fine voice for reading may be made subservient to vanity and folly, but it is far less liable to be so misused than any other. It is not displayed to strangers, like singing; it is not capable of being made a medium of deception, like drawing; it has all the advantages of other accomplishments as sources of pleasure to ourselves and others, with fewer drawbacks than any other possesses. Then, like all the purest pleasures, it is placed within the reach of all. A piano may, from many causes, be out of our power, or the noise of it, even in another room, may be an annoyance to some one; and we may be without some requisites for drawing, even if we have a taste for the art, which after all is rather a selfish one; but with books at hand, we can enjoy ourselves and make others happy without giving offence to any. But we must read well if we would give pleasure. Nothing is so wearisome as a bad reader. Miss Hannah More says that “ to read so as not to be understood, and to write so as not to be read, are among the minor immoralities of life.” The first requisite is to read distinctly, and pronounce every word duly. There should be no appearance of effort, or it becomes painful to the listener; and if there is really much effort, it is painful to the reader. We should read from the chest, with the head erect and the shoulders thrown back. The book should be held so as to be easily seen without stooping. So much for the attitude. To read well, however, is an art requiring both study and practice. Where it has been neglected in the schoolroom, lessons should be taken of a good professor of elocution, and no opportunity should be omitted of hearing good readers or speakers. Anything like a theatrical display should indeed be avoided with the utmost care; but still the voice must be trained to vary itself with the subject. To read in the same tone such a piece as The Battle of Ivry," and Cowper's lines addressed to his “Mother's Picture,” would be such a gross violation of nature, as we should all recognise at But between these two extremes there

are many nice shades of error which it needs an artist's ear to detect. Nature herself must be the basis of all rules of art. The tones in which an actual conversation would occur must be proper for the same conversation if we are reading it in a novel. In moments of excitement, whether from joy, or sorrow, or danger, or any other cause, we should speak with a rapidity which would be quite foreign to us were we in ordinary circumstances or relating a commonplace occurrence. Words of love and fondness would not be uttered with the same accents as the ejaculations of hatred or despair; and our caressing tone to an infant would differ widely from the respectful manner and voice with which we should address an elder. We have only to watch ourselves and others to see of what an infinite variety of tones the human voice is capable. Having noticed this, it becomes a high art to so control and cultivate the voice as to produce these modulations at will. To do this must be a subject of study, either with or without a master, as circumstances may happen; but two sisters would find it add much to their enjoyment of a walk, to occupy themselves in discussing the proper tones in which such or such a speech should be given, or such a poem read. It would lead to an analysis of the spirit and scope of the work, and make them better acquainted with it than any mere reading will ever do.

Nor must it be forgotten that the exercise of the lungs, which we are recommending, is highly conducive to health. Like every other part of our frames, the lungs require free play for the full development of their powers; and they will become more capable of exertion just in proportion as their powers are continually but judiciously exercised. To a person unaccustomed to read aloud, a single hour's lecture will be very fatiguing; but after a few days' regular exertion, the power will be so increased that double that time will produce no weariness. It is of great importance, however, to respire properly. The lungs should inhale as much as they can at each breath, especially at all the pauses. Nothing can be more unpleasant.in either a speaker or a reader than a low, rapid,

monotonous “gabble," varied only by an hysteric catch in the breath.

Some people are constitutionally shortbreathed, but with many young people it is a mere habit, and a very disagreeable one. Should it be even a natural defect, it can be in a great measure remedied by judiciously exercising the voice in the open air, especially when ascending a hill. For this purpose, recitation is better than conversation, as giving more scope for declamatory power. Any of the grand and beautiful speeches which we find in every one of Shakspeare's plays, or passages out of any other favourite poet, will form an admirable exercise. Whilst on the subject of recitation, I cannot help regretting that so many neglect to store their memory with the gems of our poetry in their youth, as by doing so they would provide a store of amusement and interest for themselves and others in after years, besides greatly strengthening the memory. Most girls profess to be “passionately fond of poetry;" and yet I fear very few are sufficiently acquainted with the works of any one even of our own poets to be able