mand attention.

These are of two kinds: first, emphatical pauses; and next, such as mark the distinctions of sense. An emphatical pause is made after something has been said of peculiar moment, on which we want to fix the hearer's attention. Such pauses have the same effect as a strong emphasis, and are subject to the same rules; especially to the caution of not repeating them too frequently.

But the most frequent and the principal use of pauses is, to mark the divisions of the sense, and, at the same time, to allow the speaker to draw his breath; and the proper adjustment of such pauses is one of the most difficult articles in delivery. In all reading and public speaking, the management of the breath requires great care, so as not to be obliged to divide words from one another, which have so intimate a connection that they ought to be pronounced in the same breath, and without the least separation.

Many sentences are miserably mangled, and the force of the emphasis totally lost, by divisions being made in the wrong place. To avoid this, every one, while he is reading or speaking, should be careful to provide a full supply of breath for what he is to utter. It is a great mistake to imagine that the breath must be drawn only at the end of a period, when the voice is allowed to fall. It may easily be gathered at the intervals of the period, when the voice is only suspended for a moment; and, by this arrangement, we may always have a sufficient stock for carrying on the longest sentence, without improper interruptions.

LESSON XL.

The Use of Flowers.

GOD might have made the earth bring forth Enough for great and small,

The oak-tree, and the cedar-tree,

Without a flower at all.

He might have made enough, enough

For every want of ours,

For luxury, medicine, and toil,
And yet have made no flowers.

The clouds might give abundant rain,
The nightly dews might fall,

And the herb, that keepeth life in man,
Might yet have drunk them all.

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,
And dyed with rainbow light,
All fashioned with supremest grace,
Up-springing day and night?

Our outward life requires them not;
Then wherefore had they birth?--
To minister delight to man;

To beautify the earth;

To comfort man; to whisper hope,
Whene'er his faith is dim;

For He who careth for the flowers

Will care much more for him!

LESSON XLI.

Нутп.

Ir was my heavenly Father's love
Brought every being forth;

He made the shining worlds above,
And every thing on earth.

Each lovely flower, the smallest fly,

The sea, the waterfall,

The bright green field, the clear blue sky;'Tis God that made them all.

He gave me all my friends, and taught
My heart to love them well,

And he bestowed the power of thought,
And speech my thoughts to tell.

My father and my mother dear,

He is their Father too;

He bids me all their precepts hear,
And all they teach me, do.

God sees and hears me all the day,

And 'mid the darkest night:

He views me when I disobey,

And when I act aright.

He guards me with a parent's care,

When I am all alone:

My hymn of praise, my humble prayer,

He hears them every one.

LESSON XLII.

Appear, (not upear,) approve, apply, effect, efface, effulgence, oppose, offence, occasion, occur.

Hymn in Prose.

COME, let us walk abroad; let us talk of the works of God.

Take up a handful of the sand; number the grains of it; tell them one by one into your lap.

Try if you can count the blades of grass in the field, or the leaves on the trees.

You cannot count them; they are innumerable; much more the things which God has made.

The fir groweth on the high mountain, and the gray willow bends above the stream

The thistle is armed with sharp prickles; the mallow is soft and woolly.

The hop layeth hold with her tendrils, and claspeth the tall pole; the oak hath firm root in the ground, and resisteth the winter storm.

The daisy enamelleth the meadows, and groweth beneath the foot of the passenger; the tulip asketh a rich soil, and the careful hand of the gardener.

The iris and the reed spring up in the marsh; the rich grass covereth the meadows; and the purple heath-flower enliveneth the waste ground. The water-lilies grow beneath the stream; their broad

leaves float on the surface of the water; the wallflower takes root in the hard stone, and spreads its fragrance amongst broken ruins.

Every leaf is of a different form; every plant hath

a separate inhabitant.

Look at the thorns that are white with blossoms, and the flowers that cover the fields, and the plants that are trodden in the green path. The hand of man hath not planted them; the sower hath not scattered the seed from his hand, nor the gardener digged a place for them with his spade.

Some grow on steep rocks, where no man can climb; in shaking bogs, and deep forests, and desert islands. They spring up every where, and cover the bosom of the whole earth.

Who causeth them to grow every where, and bloweth the seeds about in winds, and mixeth them with the mould, and watereth them with soft rains, and cherisheth them with dews? Who fanneth them with the pure breath of heaven, and giveth them colors and smells, and spreadeth out their thin, transparent leaves?

How doth the rose draw its crimson from the darkbrown earth, or the lily its shining white? How can a small seed contain a plant? How doth every plant know its season to put forth? They are marshalled in order; each one knoweth his place, and standeth up in his own rank.

The snowdrop and the primrose make haste to lift their heads above the ground. When the spring cometh, they say, "Here we are." The carnation