shrill as the wind in the porch of a ruined church," always raise
their tones with their temper, but if we keep the former down by
training, the latter cannot rise.

I once asked a very talented lady teacher of Elocution in Philadelphia
if she regarded shrill voices as incurable. She replied that they
invariably yielded to instruction and training. Children under no
domestic restraint who were allowed to scream out and dispute on all
occasions and were never corrected in intonation, generally had vulgar
voices.

A good voice acts very evidently on the latent powers of the mind,
and impresses the æsthetic sense, even when it is unheeded by the
conscious judgment. Many a clergyman makes a deep impression by his
voice alone. And why? Certainly not by appealing to the reason.
Therefore it is well to be able to fascinate with the voice. Now,
_nota bene_--as almost every human being can speak in a soft or
well-toned voice, "at least, subdued unto a temperate tone" just as
long as he or she chooses to do it, it follows that with foresight,
aided by suggestion, or continued will, we can all acquire this
enviable accomplishment.

To end this chapter with a curious bit of appropriate folk-lore, I
would record that while Saxo Grammaticus, Olaus Magnus, and a host of
other Norsemen have left legends to prove that there were sorcerers
who by magic of the soft and wondrous voice could charm and capture
men of the sword, so the Jesuit ATHANASIUS KIRCHER, declares that on
the seventeenth day of May, 1638, he, going from Messina in a boat,
witnessed with his own eyes the capture not of swordsmen but of sundry
_xiphioe_, or sword-fish, by means of a melodiously chanted charm, the