Time, then, refers to the rate of vocal movement. It may be fast, or moderate, or slow, according to the amount of what may be called the collateral thinking accompanying the reading of any given passage. To put it another way: a phrase is read slowly because it means much; because the thought is large, sublime, deep. The collateral thinking may be revealed by an expansive paraphrase. For instance, in the lines
Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the ramparts we hurried,
why do we read slowly? The paraphrase answers the question. It was midnight. There lay our beloved leader, who should have been borne in triumphal procession to his last resting place. Bells should have tolled, cannon thundered, and thousands should have followed his bier. But now, alas! by night, by stealth, without even a single drum tap, in fear and dread, we crept breathless to the ramparts. This, or any one of a hundred other paraphrases, will suffice to render the vocal movement slow. And so it is with all slow time. Let it be remembered that a profound or sublime thought may be uttered in fast time; but that when we dwell upon that thought, when we hold it before the mind, the time must necessarily be slow.
The succeeding passages will have a prevailingly slow movement. Measure the thought carefully, and think the expansive paraphrase. These drills are not to train us to read slowly (for any one can do that), but to think largely. The movement will take care of itself. It is further urged that the student give considerable attention to this part of the subject; for the time so spent will be valuable not only as it results in expressive movement, but because it is only through meditation that the fullest insight into the meaning of a passage can be acquired. Hence, dwelling for a long period upon a phrase or sentence gives opportunity for the enkindling of the imagination and emotion. It has been frequently found that where a student’s movement was out of harmony with the sentiment of the passage, his emotional interpretation was equally poor. A farther careful study of the text to improve the movement has generally resulted in the improvement of the emotional expression.
Mr. Speaker: The mingled tones of sorrow, like the voice of many waters, have come unto us from a sister State—Massachusetts—weeping for her honored son. The State I have the honor in part to represent once endured, with yours, a common suffering, battled for a common cause, and rejoiced in a common triumph. Surely, then, it is meet that in this the day of your affliction we should mingle our griefs.
Search creation round, where can you find a country that presents so sublime a view, so interesting an anticipation? Who shall say for what purpose mysterious Providence may not have designed her! Who shall say that when in its follies or its crimes, the Old World may have buried all the pride of its power, and all the pomp of its civilization, human nature may not find its destined renovation in the New! When its temples and its trophies shall have mouldered into dust,—when the glories of its name shall be but the legend of tradition, and the light of its achievements live only in song, philosophy will revive again in the sky of her Franklin, and glory rekindle at the urn of her Washington.
Often have I swept backward, in imagination, six thousand years, and stood beside our great ancestor, as he gazed for the first time upon the going down of the sun. What strange sensations must have swept through his bewildered mind, as he watched the last departing ray of the sinking orb, unconscious whether he should ever behold its return.
Wrapped in a maze of thought, strange and startling, he suffers his eye to linger long about the point at which the sun has slowly faded from view. A mysterious darkness creeps over the face of Nature; the beautiful scenes of earth are slowly fading, one by one, from his dimmed vision.