He

woke - WOKE mind and body - and sat upright in his bed. saw them now about him. There was no grey mist before them as there had been sometimes in the night. He knew them EVERYONE and called them by their names. 'And who is THIS? Is this my old nurse?' - asked the child - regarding with a radiant smile a figure coming in. Yes YES. No other stranger would have shed those tears at sight of him - called him her DEAR boy - her PRETTY boy her own - poor - BLIGHTED child. No other woman would have stooped down by his bed and taken up his wasted hand and put it to her lips and breast as one who had some right to fondle it. No other woman would have so forgotten everybody there but him and Floy - and been so full of TENDERNESS and PITY.

Floy! this is a kind - good face - I am glad to see it again. Don't go away- old nurse Stay here Good-bye!' 'GOOD-BYE - my child' cried Mrs. Pipchin - hurrying to the bed's head NOT good-bye!'

'Ah, yes - good-bye! Where's papa?'

He FELT his father's breath upon his cheek before the words had parted from his lips. The feeble hand - waved - in the air it cried good-bye' again.

'Now lay me down - and Floy - come close to me see you!'

as if

and let me

SISTER and BROTHER Wound their arms around each other - and the golden light came streaming in - and fell upon them - locked together.

How fast the river runs - between its green bank and the rushes Floy! But its very near the sea - I hear the WAVES! They always said so!'

Presently he told her that the motion of the boat upon the stream was lulling him to REST - how green the banks were Now how bright the flowers growing on them how tall the rushes! Now The boat was out at sea- but gliding smoothly on. And NOW there was a shore before him.

WHO stood on the BANK?

He put his hands TOGETHER

as he had been used to do, at his PRAYERS. He did not remove his arms to do it - but they saw him fold them so behind his sister's NECK.

'Mama is like you - Floy - I know her by the face. But - tell them that the picture on the stairs - at school - is not DIVINE enough. The light about the head is shining on me as I go!'

The golden ripple on the wall came back again - and nothing ELSE stirred in the room. The OLD - OLD FASHION the fashion that came in with our first garments and will last unchanged until our race has run its course - and the wide firmament is rolled up like a scroll. The OLD - OLD-FASHION- DEATH!

Oh! THANK GOD - all who see it - for that OLDER fashion yet of - IMMORTALITY. And look upon us - ANGELS of young children with regards not quite estranged when the swift river bears us also to the OCEAN!

24

PART II.

EXERCISES IN READING,

ILLUSTRATING THE FOREGOING RULES AND PRINCIPLES.

42. The principal points in connection with Enunciation and Expression, to which the attention of the learner should be directed, have now been touched upon briefly, but it is hoped with sufficient fulness for all practical purposes, in the foregoing pages. But to secure good reading, which is the foundation of good speaking, some additional practice will be necessary in the reading of more extended passages. The extracts which follow range over almost every variety of style, from simple narrative and description, and lively dialogue and repartee, to the lofty line' of Shakspeare and Milton. The marginal references are intended to draw the attention of the pupil to the alternations of thought and feeling in the passages selected, so as to serve as a guide to their proper expression in reading and delivery. The marks for emphasis in the earlier Exercises are designed to indicate the words and phrases on which stress should be laid; the degree of such stress being left, under the guidance of the teacher, to the judgment of the pupil. As he advances these marks are discontinued, as it is considered that he will by that time be able to dispense with such aids. A few practical directions are appended, which it is hoped may not be without use to young readers. The great rule for good reading, however, to which reference has been more than once made-a thorough mastery of the sense-must be the constant aim of the learner. When this end has been attained, nature and habit will spontaneously suggest the proper delivery, and then rules or directions for the purpose become unnecessary.

SHORT DIRECTIONS FOR YOUNG READERS.

1. When you read stand in an erect position, with your head well up, your shoulders thrown back to expand the chest, and your face towards the person who hears you.

2. Hold your book about six or eight inches in front of the body, and as high as the centre of the breast, so as not to compel you to stoop or to bend the head in reading.*

3. Breathe as much as possible through the nostrils and not through the mouth; and manage your inspirations so as not to create unnecessary pauses or alterations in the tone of the voice in reading.

4. Read slowly, and with due attention to the stops, emphases, and pauses. 5. Pronounce each word distinctly, and be particular in articulating clearly and audibly the final letters and syllables of words, and the closing words of sentences.

6. Let the tones of your voice in reading be the same as if you were speaking. 7. Before reading any passage aloud, read it over carefully to yourself and study it.

8. Above all, understand what you read, and read it as if you understood it.'

* See Vignette.

I CONSIDER a human sòul without educátion, like márble in the quarry, which shows none of its inherent beauties until the skill of the pólisher fetches Narration out the colours, makes the surface shíne, and discovers every ornamental cloùd, spòt, and véin that runs through the body of it. Education, after the sàme manner, when it works upon a noble mínd, draws out to view every latent vìrtue and perféction, Comparison which, without such helps, are never áble to make their appearance.

If my reader will give me léave to change the allusion so sóon upon him, I shall make use of the same instance to illustrate the force of education, which Aristotle has brought to explain his doctrine of substantial fòrms, when he tells us that a stàtue lies híd in a block of marble, and that the art of the státuary only clears away the superfluous mátter and removes the rùbbish. The figure is ín the stone, and the sculptor only finds it. What sculpture is to a block of márble, educátion is to a human soul. The philosopher, the saínt, or the hèro-the Enumerawise, the goòd, or the great man-very often lies hid and concealed in a plebèian, which a proper education might have disintérred, and have brought to light. I am therefore much delighted with reading the accounts of sàvage nations, and with contemplating those vírtues which are wild and uncùltivated; to see coúrage exerting itself in fièrceness, resolution in òbstinacy, wisdom in cúnning, pátience in sullenness and despair.

tion

It is an unspeakable blessing to be born in those parts of the world where wisdom and knowledge flourish; though it must be conféssed there are, Gratitude even in thèse parts, several poor uninstructed pérsons, who are but little above the inhabitants of those nations of which I have been here speaking; as those who have had the advantages of a more liberal education, rise above one another by several different degrees of perfection. For, to return to

Contrast

our statue in the block of marble, we see it sómetimes only begun to be chipped; sòmetimes roughhéwn, and but just sketched into a human figure; sométimes we see the man appearing distínctly in all his limbs and fèatures; sometimes we find the figure wrought up to great élegancy; but seldom meet with any to which the hand of a Phidias or a Praxíteles could not give several nice toúches and finishings. Addison.

Arguing

Illustration

Sarcastic

If there be anything that makes húman nature appear ridículous to beings of supérior faculties, it mùst be príde. They knòw só well the vánity of those imáginary perfections that swèll the heart of màn, and of those little supernumerary advantages of birth, fórtune, or títle, which one man enjoys abóve another, that it mùst certainly véry much astónish, if it does not véry much divért them, when they seè a mórtal pùffed úp, and váluing himself above his nèighbours, on ány of these accounts, at the same time that he is líable to all the cómmon calamities of the spècies.

To set this thought in its trúe light, we shall fáncy, if you please, that yónder móle-hill is inhabited by reasonable creatures; and that every pismire (his shape and way of life only excèpted) is endowed with húman passions. How should we smíle to hear one give an account of the pédigrees, distínctions, and titles, that reign among them! Observe how the whole swarm divide and make way Description for the písmire that passes alóng! You must understand he is an émmet of quality, and has bétter blood in his vèins than ány pismire in the mólehill. Do you not see how sénsible he is of it, how slówly he marches fórward, how the whole rabble of ants keep their dístance? Hère you may obsèrve óne placed upòn a little eminence, and looking down on a lóng row of labourers. He is the richest insect on this side the hillock: he has a walk of hálf-a-yard in length, and a quarter of an ìnch in breadth: he keeps a húndred ménial servants, and has at least fifteen bárley-corns in his gránary. He is now chíding and ensláving the émmet that stands

Humorous
Ridicule

before him, òne whó, for all that we can discover, is as good an èmmet as himself.

But here comes an insèct of ránk! Dò not you Questioning perceive the little white straw that he càrries in his mouth? Thát straw, you must understand, he would not párt with for the longest tract about the móle-hill: you cannot conceive what he has undergòne to purchase it! See how the ants of áll Ironical qualities and conditions swàrm about him! Should Admiration this straw drop out of his mouth, you would seê áll this númerous circle of attendants fòllow the next that took it up; and leave the discarded insect, or run over his back, to còme to his succéssor.

Ridicule

If now you have a mínd to seè the ládies of the Humorous mòle-hill, obsèrve first the písmire that listens to the èmmet on her left hand, at the same time that she seems to turn away her head fróm him. He tèlls thís póor insect that shè is a supérior being; that her eyes are brighter than the sún; that lífe and death are at her dispósal. She believes him, and gives herself a thousand líttle airs upòn it. Mark the vánity of the pìsmire on her ríght hand. She can scárcely crawl with áge; but you must know she values herself upòn her bírth; and, if you mínd, she spùrns at évery one that còmes withìn her réach. The little nímble coquette that is rùnning by the side of her, is a wít. She has broken mány a pismire's heart. Dò but obsérve what a dróve of admirers are rúnning áfter her.

But Serio-Comic

We shall hère fínish thìs imáginary scene. first of all, to draw the parallel clóser, we shall Description suppose if you please, that death comes down upon the mòle-hill, in the shape of a cóck-sparrow; and pícks up, without distínction, the pìsmire of quality and his flátterers, the pìsmire of substance and his dáy-labourers, the white straw-officer and his sýcophants, with all the ladies of ránk, the wíts, and the beauties of the mòle-hill.

May we not imagine, that beings of supérior Moralising nature and perféctions, regàrd áll the instances of príde and vánity among our ówn species, in the sáme kind of view, when they take a súrvey of those who inhabit this earth; or (in the language of an ingenious French poet,) of those pismires that people this héap of dírt, which húman vanity has divided into climates and régions? Guardian.