are the agents of it? Who are they who shall stand perpetually as priests at the altar of Freedom, and feed its sacred fires by dispensing that knowledge and cultivation on which hangs our political salvation? They are the TEACHERS of our schools, the instructors in our academies and colleges, and in all those institutions, of whatever name, which have for their object the intellectual and moral culture of our youth, and the diffusion of knowledge among our people.

7. Theirs is the moral dignity of stamping the great features of our national character, and, in the moral worth and intelligence which they give it, of erecting a bulwark which shall prove impregnable in that hour of trial, when armies, and fleets, and fortifications shall be vain. And when those mighty and all-absorbing questions shall be heard, which are even now sending their bold demands into the ear of rulers and lawgivers, which are momentarily pressing forward to a solemn decision in the sight of God and of all nations, and which, when the hour of their decision shall come, will shake this country- the Union, the Constitution-as with the shaking of an earthquake, —it is they who, in that fearful hour, will gather around the structure of our political organization, and, with uplifted hands, stay the reeling fabric till the storm and the convulsion be overpast.

THE

LESSON CXXXIII.

TRUE GLORY OF A NATION.

BISHOP WHIPPLE.

true glory of a nation is in an intelligent, honest, industrious Christian people. The civilization of a people depends on their individual character; and a con

stitution which is not the outgrowth of this character, is not worth the parchment on which it is written. You look in vain in the past for a single instance where the people have preserved their liberties after their individual character was lost.

2. It is not in the magnificence of its palaces, not in the beautiful creations of art lavished on its public edifices, not in costly libraries and galleries of pictures, not in the number or wealth of its cities, that we find pledges of a nation's glory. The ruler may gather around him the treasures of the world, amid a brutalized people; the senatechamber may retain its faultless proportions long after the voice of patriotism is hushed within its walls; the monumental marble may commemorate a glory which has forever departed. Art and letters may bring no lesson to a people whose heart is dead.

3. The true glory of a nation is in the living temple of a loyal, industrious, and upright people. The busy click of machinery, the merry ring of the anvil, the lowing of peaceful herds, and the song of the harvest-home, are sweeter music than pæans of departed glory, or songs of triumph in war. The vine-clad cottage of the hillside, the cabin of the woodsman, and the rural home of the farmer, are the true citadels of any country. There is a dignity in honest toil, which belongs not to the display of wealth or the luxury of fashion. The man who drives the plow, or swings his ax in the forest, or with cunning fingers plies the tools of his craft, is as truly the servant of his country as the statesman in the senate or the soldier in battle.

4. The safety of a nation depends not alone on the wisdom of its statesmen or the bravery of its generals. The tongue of eloquence never saved a nation tottering to its

fall; the sword of a warrior never stayed its destruction. There is a surer defense in every Christian home. I know of no right wrung from tyranny, no truth rescued from darkness and bigotry, which has not waited on a Christian civilization.

5. Would you see the image of true glory, I would show you villages where the crown and glory of the people was in Christian schools, where the voice of prayer goes heavenward, where the people have that most priceless gift,faith in God. With this as the basis, and leavened as it will be with brotherly love, there will be no danger in grappling with any evils which exist in our midst: we shall feel that we may work and bide our time, and die, knowing that God will bring victory.

LESSON CXXXIV.

1DEAD SEA FRUITS, or APPLES OF SODOM, a fruit described by ancient writers as externally of fair appearance, but dissolving into smoke and ashes when plucked. It resembles an orange in size and color, but explodes on being touched. It has a bitter taste.

THE BATTLE OF LIFE.

ANNE C. LYNCH.

1. HERE are countless fields, the green earth o'er,

Where the verdant turf has been dyed with gore;

Where hostile ranks, in their grim array,

With the battle's smoke have obscured the day;
Where hate was stamped on each rigid face,

As foe met foe in the death-embrace;

Where the groans of the wounded and dying rose
Till the heart of the listener with horror froze;
And the wide expanse of crimsoned plain
Was piled with heaps of uncounted slain :
But a fiercer combat, a deadlier strife,
Is that which is waged in the Battle of Life.

2. The hero that wars on the tented field,
With his shining sword and his burnished shield,
Goes not alone with his faithful brand,-
Friends and comrades around him stand;
The trumpets sound, and the war-steeds neigh
To join in the shock of the coming fray;
And he flies to the onset, he charges the foe,
Where the bayonets gleam and the red tides flow;
And he bears his part in that conflict dire
With an arm all nerve and a heart all fire.

3. What though he fall? At the battle's close,
In the flush of victory won, he goes

With martial music, and waving plume,
From a field of fame to a laureled tomb!
But the hero that wars in the Battle of Life
Must stand alone in the fearful strife,-

Alone in his weakness or strength must go,
Hero or coward, to meet the foe:

He

may not fly; on that fatal field

He must win or lose, he must conquer or yield.

4. Warrior, who com'st to this battle now.

With a careless step and a thoughtless brow,
As if the day were already won,
Pause, and gird all thy armor on!

Dost thou bring with thee hither a dauntless will,
An ardent soul that no fear can chill' ?

Thy shield of Faith hast thou tried and proved'?
Canst thou say to the mountain, "Be thou removed"?
In thy hand does the sword of Truth flame bright'?
Is thy banner inscribed “for God and the Right'”?
In the might of prayer dost thou wrestle and plead' ?
Never had warrior greater need!

5. Unseen foes in thy pathway hide ;
Thou art encompassed on every side:
There Pleasure waits with her siren train,
Her poison flowers and her hidden chain;
Flattery courts with her hollow smiles,
Passion with silvery tongue beguiles,

Love and Friendship their charmed spells weave:
Trust not too deeply; they may deceive!

6. Hope with her Dead Sea fruits' is there; Sin is spreading her gilded snare ;

Disease with a ruthless hand would smite,
And Care spread o'er thee her withering blight;
Hate and Envy with visage black,

And the serpent Slander, are on thy track;
Falsehood and Guilt, Remorse and Pride,
Doubt and Despair, in thy pathway glide;
Haggard Want, in her demon joy,
Waits to degrade thee, and then destroy;
And Death, the insatiate, is hovering near
To snatch from thy grasp all thou holdest dear.

7. In war with these phantoms that gird thee round, No limbs dissevered may strew the ground;