or, as the printers would call it, a new paragraph. In those cases there will be a full rest, thus .

But in many cases-always, indeed, when two or more sentences hang together, as it were, in close relation, though divided by a printer's full stop—the rest, or middle pause (~), is all that is needed. In some sentences, to make a longer pause would be bad, by breaking the close continuity or connection of the reasoning. Thus, the following two sentences, which have a printer's full stop between them, should, in reading aloud or speaking, be separated only by the rest.

Logicians may reason about abstractions, but the great mass of mankind can never feel an interest in them. They must have images.

The rest is a sufficient pause here, because the two sentences hang together; the second of the two being only the complement of the first. The meaning intended is: The vulgar are not content with abstractions; they require images.

If the student have read the above examples aloud, carefully marking the ascent of pitch, and suspension on the rest, and the downward cadence of the voice at the close, he will have gathered, with the previous notes on pause, as

much as he can digest fully in his first lesson. In the second lesson I shall treat of melody and cadence more fully.

Note.-To critical students:

In marking the preceding examples, I do not designate the necessary shades of emphasis that underlie them. I confine myself to what is sufficient for the student in this opening lesson. I do not anticipate more advanced instruction. I reserve refinements for later lessons.

Make a diligent practice of the following

EXERCISE IN PHRASING.

At every half-rest marked take a halfinspiration, and complete the line with full strength. Take a full inspiration at the rest at the end of each line.

All art is nature better understood.

Black bubbling brooks break brawling o'er their bounds.

And Eve in Eden ever happy there. *

Thus infidelity its victims blinds. *|

Crazed with corroding cares and killed with consuming complaints.

Gregory going gaily galloped gallantly to the gate.

Many men of many minds mixing in multifarious matters of much moment.

Why boast we Glaucus our extended reign?
Admired as heroes and as Gods obeyed.

Can all our careelude the gloomy grave?"

Deep in the dark

Brave tho' we fall

Tartarean gulf shall groan.

and honoured if we live.

Aurora now fair daughter of the dawn,
Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn.

Thence heave the Gods
And the vast world

the ocean and the land, hangs trembling in my sight.

The real strength of Christianity is to be found in its benevolent morality in its exquisite adaptation to the human heart in the facility with which its scheme accommodates itself to the capacity of every human intellect in the consolation which it bears to the house of mourning in the light with which it brightens the great-mystery-of-the-grave.

Mark for pause and phrasing, and then read, aloud, the following in an easy manner of narrative:

THE KING OF THE BEGGARS.

Bamfylde Moore Carew, 'the king of the beggars,' was the son of the rector of Bickleigh, and was born seven years before the accession of Queen Anne. Bamfylde's scrapes began at Tiverton, where he led the stag-hounds across some corn-fields, and then ran away from school to avoid punishment. He joined some gipsies, and soon became conspicuous among them by his skill in disguise and begging, and his fondness for the wild, free, yet dissolute and lawless life. Soon after being chosen king of the beggars, Carew was arrested at Barnstaple, sent to

Carew soon escaped

Exeter, and there, without trial, sentenced to transportation to Maryland for five years. At this time transported men were sold to the planters. from his master, and, flying to the woods, got among the Indians, and was helped by them on towards Pennsylvania. On returning to England, Carew, occasionally visiting his family in disguise, continued his career of beggar and small swindler, passing off as a shipwrecked sailor, broken-down farmer, or old rag-woman; occasionally owning himself to friends of his family, and rejoicing quite as much in his own ingenuity and the success of his disguises as in the money he obtained. He is said, in old chap-books, to have made money by successes in the lottery, and to have eventually returned to Bickleigh, and died there in 1758. It seems remarkable how such a book as the 'Life of Bamfylde Moore Carew' could ever have remained a popular chap-book for a whole century; for, except his adventures among the Indians, and the narrative of his two transportations, the biography is little but a series of tricks to extort money. One day he was an old beggar-woman laden with children, in her arms and on her back; the next day a burnt-out blacksmith, the day after a rheumatic miser. A mad Tom, a shipwrecked sailor, or a rat-catcher, Carew could assume any disguise at a moment's notice, always to the confusion of justices of the peace and the bleeding of the benevolent. The editor of one edition of the 'Life of Bamfylde Moore Carew' thinks it necessary to defend his hero. 'The morality of our hero,' he says, apologetically, is obvious in the various reflections he makes as he finds himself in different situations. His lessons are from the vast volume of nature; and though he passed but for a beggar, he often appears to have possessed every charm of the mind, andwhat is more worthy of praise-those better qualities of the heart, without which the others are but frivolous.'

Modern readers find in the rogue's adventures no trace of anything but promptitude and ingenuity.-Dickens's All the Year Round.

And also the following:

CLOCKS CLOCKS!

Wembury Hall was as commonplace inside as it was out. There was the usual quantity of stuffed birds, Indian bows and arrows, and third-rate pictures. The only feature to distinguish its interior from any other small country-house was the number of its clocks and barometers. There were four barometers; one in the porch, one in the vestibule, one in the admiral's dressing-room, and one in the passage upstairs. As for clocks, they literally swarmed. And they all struck. That was the most aggravating feature about them. If they had but indicated the flight of time by the pointing of their hands on the dial-plate alone, so that all who chose to run might read-well; but every one of them told the hour, and a good many struck the quarters as well. There was no possibility of ignoring the time of day in that house, unless you became blind and deaf at once. Moreover, there was a Chinese gong, with a sepulchral, judgment-day note, enough to destroy anybody with delicate nerves. This gong was never silent from morn till night. People were gonged to breakfast, luncheon, dinner, tea, and supper; besides family prayers twice a day, and a kind of supplementary service which went by the name of 'morning reading.'

CLOUDS.

Nobody looks at the clouds

With a love that equals mine;
I know them in their beauty,
In the morn or the even shine.