at the same instant, the uplifted steel descends, with resistless force, on the skull of the wretched woman, who falls dead at his feet. The perpetrator then calmly wipes the blood off the murderous axe, and returns to his work.

The dreadful tale speedily came to the knowledge of the magistrates, who caused the uncalled avenger to be arrested and brought to trial. He was, of course, sentenced to the punishment ordained by the laws; but the sentence still wanted the sanction of the emperor. Alexander caused all

the circumstances of this crime, so extraordinary in the motives in which it originated, to be reported to him, in the most careful and detailed manner. Here, or nowhere, he thought himself called on to exercise the godlike privilege of mercy, by commuting the sentence, passed on the criminal, into a condemnation to labor not very severe.

LESSON CXXVI.

Hymn before Sun-rise, in the Vale of Chamouny.-Coleridge.

HAST thou a charm to stay the morning star
In his steep course?-so long he seems to pause
On thy bald, awful head, O sovereign Blanc !
The Arvé and Arveiron, at thy base,
Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful form,
Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines,
How silently! Around thee and above,
Deep is the air, and dark, substantial, black,
An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it,
As with a wedge! But, when I look again,
It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine,
Thy habitation from eternity.

O dread and silent mount! I gazed upon thee,
Till thou, still present to the bodily sense,

Didst vanish from my thought: entranced in prayer,
I worshipped the Invisible alone

Yet, like some sweet, beguiling melody,

So sweet, we know not we are listening to it,

Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought,-
Yea, with my life, and life's own secret joy,-
Till the dilating soul, enrapt, transfused,
Into the mighty vision passing—there,

As in her natural form, swelled vast to heaven!

Awake, my soul! Not only passive praise
Thou owest; not alone these swelling tears,
Mute thanks and secret ecstasy. Awake,
Voice of sweet song! Awake, my heart, awake!
Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my hymn.

Thou, first and chief, sole sovereign of the vale!
O struggling with the darkness all the night,
And visited all night by troops of stars,

Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink,-
Companion of the morning star at dawn,

Thyself earth's rosy star, and of the dawn
Co-herald, wake! O wake! and utter praise!
Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth?
Who filled thy countenance with rosy light?
Who made thee parent of perpetual streams?

And you, ye five wild torrents, fiercely glad!
Who called you forth from night and utter death,
From dark and icy caverns called you forth,
Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks,
Forever shattered, and the same forever?
Who gave you your invulnerable life,

Your strength, your speed, your fury, and your joy,
Unceasing thunder, and eternal foam?

And who commanded-and the silence came

"Here let the billows stiffen, and have rest?"

Ye ice-falls! ye, that, from the mountain's brow,

Adown enormous ravines slope amain

Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice,

And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge!
Motionless torrents! silent cataracts!

Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven
Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun
Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers
Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet?—
"God!" let the torrents, like a shout of nations,
Answer; and let the ice-plains echo, "God!"
"God!" sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome vcice
Ye pine groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds!
And they, too, have a voice, yon piles of snow,
And, in their perilous fall, shall thunder, "God!"

Ye living flowers, that skirt the eternal frost! Ye wild goats, sporting round the eagle's nest! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain-storm! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds! Ye signs and wonders of the elements !

Utter forth "God!" and fill the hills with praise !

Thou, too, hoar mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene, Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breastThou, too, again, stupendous mountain! thou That, as I raise my head, awhile bowed low

In adoration, upward from thy base

Slow travelling with dim eyes suffused with tears,—
Solemnly seemest, like a vapory cloud,

To rise before me,-rise, O ever rise!

Rise, like a cloud of incense, from the earth.
Thou kingly spirit, throned among the hills,
Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven,
Great hierarch, tell thou the silent sky,

And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun,

66

Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God."

LESSON CXXVII.

The Soldier's Widow.-WILLIS.

Wo! for my vine-clad home! That it should ever be so dark to me,

With its bright threshold, and its whispering tree!

That I should ever come,

Fearing the lonely echo of a tread,

Beneath the roof-tree of my glorious dead!

Lead on, my orphan boy;

Thy home is not so desolate to thee,
And the low shiver in the linden tree

May bring to thee a joy ;

But, oh! how dark is the bright home before thee, To her who with a joyous spirit bore thee!

Lead on; for thou art now

My sole remaining helper. God hath spoken,
And the strong heart I leaned upon is broken;
And I have seen his brow,

The forehead of my upright one and just,
Trod by the hoof of battle to the dust.

He will not meet thee there,

Who blessed thee at the eventide, my son;
And when the shadows of the night steal on,
He will not call to prayer.

The lips that melted, giving thee to God,
Are in the icy keeping of the sod!

Ay, my own boy, thy sire

Is with the sleepers of the valley cast,
And the proud glory of my life hath past,

With his high glance of fire.

Wo! that the linden and the vine should bloon
And a just man be gathered to the tomb!

Why, bear them proudly, boy,—
It is the sword he girded to his thigh,
It is the helm he wore in victory;

And shall we have no joy?

For thy green vales, O Switzerland, he died;
I will forget my sorrow-in my pride!

LESSON CXXVIII.

Extract from "Suggestions on Education."-
MISS C. E. BEECHER.

WOMAN has been but little aware of the high incitements, that should stimulate to the cultivation of her noblest powers. The world is no longer to be governed by physical force, but by the influence which mind exerts over mind. How are the great springs of action, in the political world, put in motion? Often by the secret workings of a single mind, that in retirement plans its schemes, and comes forth to execute them only by presenting motives of prejudice, passion, selfinterest or pride, to operate on other minds.

Now, the world is chiefly governed by motives that men are ashamed to own. When do we find mankind acknowledging, that their efforts in political life are the offspring of pride, and the desire of self-aggrandizement? And yet who hesitates to believe that this is true?

But there is a class of motives, that men are not only willing, but proud to own. Man does not willingly yield to force; he is ashamed to own he can yield to fear; he will not acknowledge his motives of pride, prejudice, or passion. But none are unwilling to own they can be governed by reason; even the worst will boast of being regulated by conscience; and where is the person who is ashamed to own the influence of the kind and generous emotions of the heart.

Here, then, is the only lawful field for the ambition of our sex. Woman, in all her relations, is bound to "honor and obey" those, on whom she depends for protection and support;