MOVEMENT.
By different emotions you are prompted to speak words in quick or slow utterance, as in joy or anger you would be prompted to utter words quickly; while in majesty, sublimity, awe, you would speak slowly. You should practise movement, that you may be able to read rapidly and with perfect articulation, and also to read slowly with proper phrasing. In quick movement, read as fast as you can with proper articulation, phrasing, and emphasis. In moderate movement, read as in ordinary earnest conversation. In slow and very slow movement, phrase well, as in these the emphatic words have the longest time given to them, the secondarily emphatic ones less time, and the connecting words the least time; and it is a great art to proportion them rightly. If you do not do the latter, you will drawl.
QUICK MOVEMENT.
1. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray:
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
2. But hark! above the beating of the storm
Peals on the startled ear the fire-alarm.
Yon gloomy heaven's aflame with sudden light;
And heart-beats quicken with a strange affright.
From tranquil slumber springs, at duty's call,
The ready friend no danger can appall:
Fierce for the conflict, sturdy, true, and brave,
He hurries forth to battle and to save.
3.After him came, spurring hard,
A gentleman almost forespent with speed,
That stopped by me to breathe his bloodied horse.
He asked the way to Chester; and of him
I did demand what news from Shrewsbury.
He told me that rebellion had bad luck,
And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold:
With that he gave his able horse the head,
And, bending forward, struck his armed heels
Against the panting sides of his poor jade
Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so,
He seemed, in running, to devour the way,
Staying no longer question.
MODERATE MOVEMENT.
1. Yes, Tom's the best fellow that ever you knew.
Just listen to this:—
When the old mill took fire, and the flooring fell through,
And I with it, helpless there, full in my view
What do you think my eyes saw through the fire,
That crept along, crept along, nigher and nigher,
But Robin, my baby-boy, laughing to see
The shining? He must have come there after me,
Troddled alone from the cottage.
2. Oratory, as it consists in the expression of the countenance, graces of attitude and motion, and intonation of voice, although it is altogether superficial and ornamental, will always command admiration; yet it deserves little veneration. Flashes of wit, coruscations of imagination, and gay pictures,—what are they? Strict truth, rapid reason, and pure integrity, are the only essential ingredients in oratory. I flatter myself that Demosthenes, by his "action, action, action," meant to express the same opinion.
3. Waken, voice of the land's devotion!
Spirit of freedom, awaken all!
Ring, ye shores, to the song of ocean!
Rivers, answer! and, mountains, call!
The golden day has come:
Let every tongue be dumb
That sounded its malice, or murmured its fears.
She hath won her story;
She wears her glory:
We crown her the land of a hundred years!
SLOW MOVEMENT.
1. Within this sober realm of leafless trees
The russet year inhaled the dreamy air,
Like some tanned reaper in his hour of ease
When all the fields are lying brown and bare.
2. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.
3. Father, guide me! Day declines;
Hollow winds are in the pines;
Darkly waves each giant bough
O'er the sky's last crimson glow;
Hushed is now the convent's bell,
Which erewhile, with breezy swell,
From the purple mountains bore
Greeting to the sunset shore;
Now the sailor's vesper-hymn
Dies away.
Father, in the forest dim
Be my stay!
VERY SLOW MOVEMENT.
1. Toll, toll, toll,
Thou bell by billows swung!
And night and day thy warning words
Repeat with mournful tongue!
Toll for the queenly boat
Wrecked on yon rocky shore:
Seaweed is in her palace-halls;
She rides the surge no more.
2. Now o'er the drowsy earth still night prevails;
Calm sleep the mountain-tops and shady vales,
The rugged cliffs and hollow glens.
The wild beasts slumber in their dens,
The cattle on the hill. Deep in the sea
The countless finny race and monster brood
Tranquil repose. Even the busy bee
Forgets her daily toil. The silent wood
No more with noisy form of insect rings;
And all the feathered tribes, by gentle sleep subdued,
Roost in the glade, and hang their drooping wings.
3.My Father, God, lead on!
Calmly I follow where thy guiding hand
Directs my steps. I would not trembling stand,
Though all before the way
Is dark as night: I stay
My soul on thee, and say,
Father, I trust thy love: lead on!