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And driving and riving and striving,

And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling:
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,

Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending,
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar:
And this way, the water comes down at Lodore.


The following exercises to the 62d are, most of them, marked with the appropriate inflections, beginning with a few of the more simple principles, and gradually adding others.

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From H. WARE, JR. 1. The history of the world is full of testimony to prove how much depends upon industry'; not an eminent author has lived but is an example of it. Yet, in contradiction to all this', the almost universal feeling appears to be, that industry can effect nothing', that eminence is the result of accident', and that every one must be content to remain just what he may happen to be'. Thus multitudes', who come forward as teachers and guides, suffer themselves to be satisfied with the most indifferent attainments, and a miserable mediocrity', without so much as inquiring how they might rise higher, much less making any attempt' to rise.

2. For any other art they would serve an apprenticeship, and would be ashamed to practice it in public', before they have learned it. If any one would sing', he attends a master, and is drilled in the very elementary principles'; and, only after the most laborious process, dares to exercise his voice in public! This he does', though he has scarce any thing to learn but the mechanical execution of what lies, in sensible forms, before his eye! But the extempore speaker', who is to invent as well as to utter, to carry on an operation of the mind as well as to produce sound', enters upon

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the work without preparatory discipline, and then wonders that he fails'.

3. If he were learning to play on the flute for public exhibition, what hours and days would he spend in giving facility to his fingers, and attaining the power of the sweetest and most impressive execution! If he were devoting himself to the organ', what months and years would he labor, that he might know its compass, and be master of its keys', and be able to draw out, at will, all its various combinations of harmonious sounds', and its full richness and delicacy of expression . And yet, he will fancy, that the grandest, the most various, the most expressive of all instruments', which the infinite Creator has fashioned by the union of an intellectual soul with the powers of speech,' may be played upon without study or practice! He comes to it a mere uninstructed tyro', and thinks to manage all its stops', and to command the whole compass of its varied and comprehensive power'. He finds himself a bungler in the attempt, is mortified at his failure', and settles in his mind forever, that he attempts in vain':

( 4. Success in every art, whatever may be the natural talent, is always the reward of industry and pains'.) But the instances are many, of men of the finest natural genius, whose beginning has promised much, but who have degenerated wretchedly as they advanced, because they trusted to their gifts', and made no effort to improve'

. That there have never been other men of equal endowments with Cicero and Demosthenes', none would venture to suppose!. If those great men had been content, like others, to continue as they began, and had never made their persevering efforts of improvement', their countries would have been little benefited by their genius, and the world would never have known their fame'. They would have been lost in the undistinguished crowd that sunk to oblivion around' them.

5. Of how many more will the same remark prove true' ! What encouragement is thus given to the industrious'! With such encouragement, how inexcusable is the negligence which fuffers the most interesting and importané truths to seem heavy and dull, and fall ineffectual to the ground', through mere sluggishness in the delivery'! IIow unworthy of one who performs the high function of a religious instructor, upon whom depend, in a great measure, the religious knowledge', and devotional sentiment', and final character' of many fellow beings, to imagine that he can worthily discharge this great concern by occasionally talking for an hour, he knows not how', and in a manner he has taken no pains to render correct', or attractive'; and which, simply through that want of command over himself, which study would give, is immethodical', verbose', inaccurate, feeble', trifling'! It has been said of a great preacher,

That truths divino come mended from his tongue! Alas! they come ruined and worthless from such a man as this'. They lose that holy energy, by which they are to convert the soul, and purify man for heaven, and sink, in interest and efficacy, below the level of those principles', which govern the ordinary affairs of this lower world'.

REMARK.-In the last paragraph, the words “knowledge," "senti ment," "character,” and “immethodical," "verbose,” “ feeble,” &c., are embraced under the rule for series. See Rules X and XI.


1. O! the old, old clock of the household stock’,

Was the brightest thing, and neatest';
Its hands, though old, had a touch of gold',

And its chimes rang still the sweetest';
'Twas a monitor, too, though its words were few,

Yet they lived, though nations altered';
And its voice, still strong, warned old and young,

When the voice of friendship faltered':
“Tick! tick!" it said, "quick, to bed":

For ten I've given warning\!”
Up! up! and go, or else you know',

You'll never rise soon in the morning\!"
2. A friendly voice was that old, old clock',

As it stood in the corner smiling,
And blessed the time with a merry chime,

The wintry hours beguiling';
But a cross old voice was that tiresome clock',

As it called at day-break boldly';
When the dawn looked gray o'er the misty way',

And the early air looked coldly':
"Tick! tick!" it said, "quick out of bed;

For five I've given warning';
You'll never have health, you'll never have wealth

Unless you're up soon in the morning'!"
3. Still hourly the sound goes round and round',

With a tone that ceases never';
While tears are shed for bright days led',

And the old friends lost forever!
Its heart beats on, though hearts are gone,

That beat like ours, though stronger';
Its hands still move, though hands we love'

Are clasped on carth no longer!!
"Tick! tick!" it said, “to the church-yard bed',

The grave hath given warning';
Up! up! and rise', and look at the skies,

And prepare for a heavenly morning!"


FROM DR. JOHNSON. Dr. Samuel Jonsson was born in Litchfield, England, in 1709. He went to London, in 1736, determined to devote himself to literature, and he maintained himself, principally, by writing for the magazines and other periodicals. After the publication of the Rambler and the English Dictionary, he found himself indisputably at the head of his literary contemporaries. Ile died in 1784.

1. Omar, the son of Hassan', had passed seventy-five years in honor and prosperity'. The favor of three successive caliphs had filled his house with gold and silver; and whenever he appeared', the benedictions of the people proclaimed his passage

2. Terrestrial happiness is of short continuance'. The brightness of the flame is wasting its fuel'; the fragrant flower is passing away in its own odors! The vigor of Omar began to fail'; the curls of beauty fell from his head'; strength departed from his hands, and agility from his feet'. He gave back to the caliph the keys of trust, and the seals of secrecy; and sought no other pleasure for the remainder of life than the converse of the wise and the gratitude of the good'.


3. The powers of his mind were yet unimpaired. His chamber was filled by visitants, eager to catch the dictates of experience, and officious to pay the tribute of admiration. Caleb, the son of the viceroy of Egypt', entered every day early, and retired late'. He was beautiful and eloquent': Omar admired his wit, and loved his docility.

4. “ Tell me,” said Caleb, “thou to whose voice nations have listened, and whose wisdom is known to the extremities of Asia', tell me, how I may resemble Omar the prudent'. The arts by which thou hast gained power and preserved it, are to thee no longer necessary or useful; impart to me' the secret of thy conduct, and teach me the plan upon which thy wisdom has built thy fortune'.”

5. “Young man',” said Omar, “it is of little use to form plans of life'. When I took my first survey of the world, in my twentieth year', having considered the various conditions of mankind, in the hour of solitude, I said thus to myself, leaning against a cedar, which spread its branches over my head: “Seventy years are allowed to man ; I have yet fifty remaining

6. “Ten years I will allot to the attainment of knowledge', and ten I will pass in foreign countries ; I shall be learned, and therefore shall be honored'; every city will shout at my arrival, and every student will solicit my friendship' Twenty years thus passed, will store my mind with images, which I shall be busy, through the rest of my life, in combining and comparing. I shall revel in inexhaustible accumulations of intellectual riches; I shall find new pleasures for every moment, and shall never more be


of myself.

7. “I will not, however, deviate too far from the beaten track of life'; but will try what can be found in female delicacy'. I will marry a wife as beautiful as the houries', and wise as Zobeide'; and with her I will live twenty years within the suburbs of Bagdat, in every pleasure that wealth can purchase, and fancy can invent.

8. “I will then retire to a rural dwelling, pass my days in obscurity and contemplation; and lie silently down on the bed of death. Through my life it shall be my settled resolution, that I will never depend on the smile of princes; that I

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