ave you ever seen a total eclipse of the Sun?

The sky is absolutely clear: no fraction of cloud shadows the solar
rays. The azure vault of the firmament crowns the Earth with a dome of
dazzling light. The fires of the orb of day shed their beneficent
influence generally upon the world.

Yet, see! The radiance diminishes. The luminous disk of the Sun is
gradually corroded. Another disk, as black as ink, creeps in front of
it, and little by little invades it entirely. The atmosphere takes on a
wan, sepulchral hue; astonished nature is hushed in profound silence; an
immense veil of sadness spreads over the world. Night comes on suddenly,
and the stars shine out in the Heavens. It seems as though by some
mysterious cataclysm the Sun had disappeared forever. But this
tribulation is soon over. The divine orb is not extinct. A flaming jet
emerges from the shadow, announcing his return, and when he reappears we
see that he has lost nothing in splendor or beauty. He is still the
radiant Apollo, King of Day, watching over the life of the planetary
worlds.

This sudden night, darkening the Heavens in the midst of a fine day, can
not fail to produce a vivid impression upon the spectators of the superb
phenomenon.

The eclipse lasts only for a few moments, but long enough to make a deep
impression upon our minds, and indeed to inspire anxious spirits with
terror and agitation--even at this epoch, when we know that there is
nothing supernatural or formidable about it.

In former days, Humanity would have trembled, in uneasy consternation.
Was it a judgment from Heaven? Must it not be the work of some invisible
hand throwing the somber veil of night over the celestial torch?

Had not the Earth strayed off her appointed path, and were we not all to
be deprived eternally of the light of our good Sun? Was some monstrous
dragon perhaps preparing to devour the orb of day?

The fable of the dragon devouring the Sun or Moon during the eclipses is
universal in Asia as in Africa, and still finds acceptance under more
than one latitude. But our readers already know that we may identify the
terrible celestial dragon with our gentle friend the Moon, who would not
be greatly flattered by the comparison.

We saw in the preceding lesson that the Moon revolves round us,
describing an almost circular orbit that she travels over in about a
month. In consequence of this motion, the nocturnal orb is sometimes
between the Sun and the Earth, some