with whom they have traveled many a weary league, in all the intimacy of companions and friends, begins to change before their eyes. Over his garments is spreading a strange light, steadily brightening into intenser beauty, till that form glows with such splendor, that it seems to waver to and fro, and dissolve in the still radiance.

4. The three astonished friends gaze on it in speechless admiration, then turn to that familiar face. But, lo! a greater change has passed over it. That sad and solemn countenance which has been so often seen stooping over the couch of the dying, entering the door of the hut of poverty, passing through the streets of Jerusalem, and pausing by the weary way-side,-ay, bedewed with the tears of pity, now burns like the sun in his mid-day splendor. Meekness has given way to majesty; sadness, to dazzling glory; the look of pity, to the grandeur of a God.

5. The still radiance of Heaven sits on that serene brow, and all around that divine form flows an atmosphere of strange and wondrous beauty. Heaven has poured its brightness over that consecrated spot; and on the beams of light which glitter there, Moses and Elias have descended, and, wrapped in the same shining vestments, stand beside him. Wonder follows wonder, for those three glittering forms are talking with each other; and amid the thrilling accents are heard the words, "Mount Olivet," "Calvary!"-" the agony and the death of the crucifixion!"

6. No wonder a sudden fear came over Peter, that paralyzed his tongue, and crushed him to the earth, when, in the midst of his speech, he saw a cloud descend like a falling star from heaven, and, bright and dazzling, balance itself over those forms of light, while from its bright foldings came a voice, saying, "This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; hear ye Him!"

7. How long the vision lasted, we can not tell; but all that night did Jesus, with his friends, stay on that lonely mountain. Of the conversation that passed between them there, we know nothing; but little sleep, we imagine, visited their eyes that night; and as they sat on the high summit, and watched the stars as they rose one after another above the horizon, and gazed on the moon as she poured her light over the dim and darkened landscape, words were spoken that seemed born of Heaven, and truths never to be forgotten were uttered in the ears of the subdued and reverent disciples.

8. Oh, how different are Heaven and earth! Can there be a stronger contrast than the BATTLE and TRANSFIGURATION of Mount Tabor? One shudders to think of Bonaparte and the Son of God on the same mountain, — one with his wasting cannon by his side, and the other with Moses and Elias just from Heaven. But no after desecration can destroy the first consecration of Mount Tabor; for, surrounded with the glory of Heaven, and honored with the wondrous scene of the TRANSFIGURATION, it stands a SACRED MOUNTAIN on the earth.

LESSON CXIX.

NATHAN HALE.

FRANCIS M. FINCH.

Part of a poem delivered in 1853 at a centennial anniversary of the Linonian Society, Yale College. Nathan Hale was one of the early members.

2. By starlight and moonlight
He seeks the Briton's camp;
He hears the rustling flag,

And the armèd sentry's tramp;
And the starlight and moonlight
The silent wanderer's lamp.

3. With slow tread, and still tread, He scans the tented line;

And he counts the battery-guns

By the gaunt and shadowy pine; And his slow tread, and still tread, Gives out no warning sign.

4. A sharp clang, a steel clang,
And terror in the sound;
For the sentry, eagle-eyed,

In the camp a spy hath found;
With a sharp clang, a steel clang,
The patriot is bound.

5. With calm brow, steady brow,
He listens to his doom:

In his look there is no fear,
Nor a shadow-trace of gloom;
But with calm brow, steady brow,
He robes him for the tomb.

6. In the long night, the still night, He kneels upon the sod; And his brutal guards withhold E'en the solemn word of God; In the long night, the still night, He "passeth under the rod."* * Ezekiel, 20th chapter, 37th verse.

7. 'Neath the blue morn, the sunny morn,
He dies upon the tree;

And he mourns that he can lose

But one life for Liberty;

In the blue morn, the sunny morn,
His spirit-wings are free.

8. His last words, his message-words,
They burn, lest friendly eye
Should read how proud and calm
A patriot could die;

With his last words, his message-words,
A soldier's battle-cry.

9. From fame-leaf, and angel-leaf,
From monument and urn,

The sad of Earth, the glad of Heaven,
His tragic fate shall learn;

And on fame-leaf and angel-leaf
The name of HALE shall burn.

1 COL OS SE UM.

LESSON CXX.

See note, page 333.

2 PAR' THE NON, a celebrated temple of Minerva at Athens, in Greece.

LOSS OF THE UNION IRREPARABLE.

DANIEL WEBSTER.

From a eulogy on Washington, delivered in the city of Washington, in honor of his centennial birthday, Feb. 22, 1832.

W

ASHINGTON, therefore, could regard, and did regard, nothing as of paramount political interest, but the integrity of the Union itself. With a united government, well administered, he saw we had nothing to fear;

and, without it, nothing to hope. The sentiment is just, and its momentous truth should solemnly impress the whole country.

2. If we might regard our Country as personated in the spirit of Washington, if we might consider him as representing her in her past renown, her present prosperity, and her future career, and as, in that character, demanding of us all to account for our conduct as political men or as private citizens, how should he answer him who has ventured to talk of disunion and dismemberment? Or how should he answer him who dwells perpetually on local interests, and fans every kindling flame of local prejudice? How should he answer him who would array State against State, interest against interest, and party against party, careless of the continuance of that unity of government which constitutes us one people?

3. Gentlemen, the political prosperity which this country has attained, and which it now enjoys, it has acquired mainly through the instrumentality of the present government. While this agent continues, the capacity of attaining to still higher degrees of prosperity exists also. We have, while this lasts, a political life capable of beneficial exertion, with power to resist or overcome misfortunes, to sustain us against the ordinary accidents of human affairs, and to promote, by active efforts, every public interest.

4. But dismemberment strikes at the very being which preserves these faculties. It would lay its rude and ruthless hand on this great agent itself. It would sweep away, not only what we possess, but all power of regaining lost or acquiring new possessions. It would leave the country, not only bereft of its prosperity and happiness, but without limbs, or organs, or faculties, by which to exert itself hereafter in the pursuit of that prosperity and happiness.