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Homer, Virgil, and Horace, are all represented as early risers the same was the case with Paley, Priestley, and Buffon; the last of whom ordered his servant to awaken him every morning, and compel him to get up by force if he evinced any reluctance; for which service he was rewarded with a crown each day, which recompense he forfeited if he did not oblige his master to get out of bed before the clock struck six.

Bishops Jewel and Burnet rose every morning at four o'clock. Sir Thomas More did the same thing. Napoleon was an early riser; so were Frederick the Great, Charles the Twelfth, and Washington. Sir Walter Scott, during the greater part of his life, rose by five o'clock; and his literary work was accomplished chiefly before breakfast. Franklin and nearly all the great men of the American revolution were early risers; so were Daniel Webster and John Quincy Adams. That early rising tends to prolong life appears to be clearly proved. One of the most eminent judges of England - Lord Mansfield-was at the pains of collecting some curious evidence on this subject. When he presided in his judicial capacity over the court, he questioned every old person who appeared at the bar respecting his habits; and all agreed on one point—that of being early risers.

Falsely luxurious, will not man awake,

And, springing from the bed of slōth, enjoy
The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour,
To meditation due and sacred song?

Wildered and tossing through distempered dreams,
Who would in such a gloomy state remain
Longer than nature craves, when every Muse
And every blooming pleasure wait without
To bless the wildly-devious morning walk?

2. THE MORNING HOUR. - Daniel Webster.

The air is tranquil, and its temperature mild. It is morning, and a morning sweet, and fresh, and delightful. Everybody knows the morning in its metaphor'ical sense, applied to so many objects, and on so many occasions. The health, strength, and beauty, of early years, lead us to call that period the " morning of life." Of a lovely young woman we say, she is "bright as the morning," and no one doubts why Lucifer is called the son of the morning." But, the morning itself few people, inhabitants of cities, know anything about. Among all our good people, not one in a thousand sees the sun rise once a year. They know nothing of the morning.

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Their idea of it is, that it is that part of the day which comes along after a cup of coffee and a beef-steak, or a piece of toast

With them, morning is not a new issuing of light, a new bursting forth of the sun, a new waking up of all that has life, from a sort of temporary death, to behold again the works of God, the heavens and the earth; it is only part of the domestic day, belonging to breakfast, to reading the newspapers, answering notes, sending the children to school, and giving orders for dinner.

PART FIRST

1. NOON, by the north clock! Noon, by the east! High noon, too, by these hot sunbeams, which fall, scarcely aslope, upon the water bubble and smoke in the

my

Bead and almost make the morning abound in an languages,

descriptions

but they are the strongest, perhaps, in those of the East, where the sun is often an object of worship. King David speaks of taking to himself the "wings of the morning." This is highly poetical and beautiful. The wings of the morning are the beams of the rising sun. Rays of light are wings. It is thus said that the Sun of righteousness shall arise, "with healing in his wings," a rising sun which shall scatter life, health, and joy, throughout the universe. Milton has fine descriptions of morning; but not so many as Shakspeare, from whose writings pages of the most beautiful imagery, all founded on the glory of the morning, might be filled.

I never thought that Adam had much the advantage of us, from having seen the world while it was new. The manifestations of the power of God, like his mercies, are "new every morning," and fresh every moment. We see as fine risings of the sun as ever Adam saw, and its risings are as much a miracle now as they were in his day, and I think a good deal more, because it is now a part of the miracle that for thousands and thousands of years he has come to his appointed time, without the variation of a millionth part of a second. Adam could not tell how this might be. I know the morning-I am acquainted with it, and I love it. I love it, fresh and sweet as it is, a daily new creation, breaking forth and calling all that have life, and breath, and being, to new adoration, new enjoyments, and new gratitude.

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SHE STRIKES UPON A ROCK.

6. Five hundred souls in one instant of dread
Are hurried o'er the deck;

And fast the miserable ship

Becomes a lifeless wreck.

Her keel hath struck on a hidden rock,
Her planks are torn asunder,

The man

parley, they are surely lost. This is as true here. We should realize by act the words "awake! arise!" in as quick, as immediate a succession as they were uttered by the poet. who springs from his bed at once on waking is the only conueror; he shakes off the heaviness of his chain, the cloudy ulness of his slumheu thaanföt oßïige his master to get out of bed before the clock struck six.

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and

Bishops Jewel and Burnet rose every morning at four o'clock. Sir Thomas More did the same thing. Napoleon was an early riser: so were Frederick the Great Charles the Twelfth and quaff the first flowings into our cup; the briskness, the spirit, the sparkling liveliness, of the young day. The early-rising man has the same conscious comfort through the day as the prudent, thrifty householder has through life; he is beforehand with the world; he has laid up something in advance, and that of no ordinary worth, but an inestimable thing, the most precious of all treasures, -Time. He takes the day by the forelock; he drives it, instead of being driven, or, rather, dragged along by it. For my whole life through, this difficulty of early rising has been a quicksand in my course. I have set my buoy upon it at last; let others make their profit of my experience.

CVI. - THE SHIP.

HER APPEARANCE BY MOONLIGHT.

1. Ir is the midnight hour:

- the beauteous sea,

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Calm as the cloudless heaven, the heaven discloses,
While many a sparkling star, in quiet glee,
Far down within the watery sky reposes.

The mighty moon, she sits above,
Encircled with a zone of love;

A zone of dim and tender light,

That makes her wakeful eye more bright;
She seems to shine with a sunny ray,

And the night looks like a mellowed day.

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ing of life.” Of a lovely young woman we say, she is "bright as the morning," and no one doubts why Lucifer is called the "son of the morning." But, the morning itself few people, inhabitants of cities, know anything about. Among all our good people, not one in a thousand sees the sun rise once a year. They know nothing of the morning.

Their idea of it is, that it is that part of the day which comes along after a cup of coffee and a beef-steak, or a piece of toast

CVII.

A RILL FROM THE TOWN PUMP.

[Scene - The corner of two principal Streets. The Town Pump talking through its nose.]

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PART FIRST

1. NOON, by the north clock! Noon, by the east! High noon, too, by these hot sunbeams, which fall, scarcely aslope, upon my head, and almost make the water bubble and smoke in the trough under my nose. Truly we public characters have a tough time of it! And among all the town officers, chosen at March meeting, where is he that sustains, for a single year, the burden of such manifold duties as are imposed, in perpetuity," upon the Town Pump? The title of "town treasurer is rightdian of the best treasure that the town has. HER APPEARANCE AT SUNRISE.

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4. But, list! a low and moaning sound
At distance heard, like a spirit's song!
And now it reigns above, around,
As if it called the ship along.
The moon is sunk, and a clouded
Declares that her course is run,
And, like a god who brings the day,
Up mounts the glorious sun.

gray

Soon as his light has warmed the seas,

From the parting cloud fresh blows the breeze.
And that is the spirit whose well-known song

Makes the vessel to sail in joy along.

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for, all day long, I am seen at the busiest corner, just above the market, stretching out my arms to rich and poor alike; and at night I hold a lantern over my head, both to show where I am and keep people out of the gutters.

But gently now the small waves glide

Like playful lambs o'er a mountain side.
So stately her bearing, so proud her array,
The main she will traverse for ever and aye.
Many ports will exult at the gleam of her mast!

Hush, hush, thou vain dreamer! this hour is her last

SHE STRIKES UPON A ROCK.

6. Five hundred souls in one instant of dread

Are hurried o'er the deck;

And fast the miserable ship

Becomes a lifeless wreck.

Her keel hath struck on a hidden rock,
Her planks are torn asunder,

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