LESSON LXI. "All Things are of God." - MOORE. When day, with farewell beam, delays Through opening vistas into heaven; When night, with wings of starry gloom, When youthful Spring around us breathes, LESSON LXII. The Coral Grove. — J. G. PERCIVAL. DEEP in the wave is a coral grove, Where the purple mullet and gold-fish rove, Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue, That never are wet with the falling dew, But in bright and changeful beauty shine, Far down in the green and glassy brine. The floor is of sand, like the mountain's drift, And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow; From coral rocks the sea-plants lift Their boughs where the tides and billows flow. The water is calm and still below, For the winds and waves are absent there, And the sands are bright as the stars that glow In the motionless fields of upper air. There, with its waving blade of green, The sea-flag streams through the silent water, And the crimson leaf of the dulse is seen To blush, like a banner bathed in slaughter. There, with a light and easy motion, The fan-coral sweeps through the clear deep sea; And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean Are bending, like corn on the upland lea: And life, in rare and beautiful forms, Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, Where the myriad voices of ocean roar, Then, far below, in the peaceful sea, The purple mullet and gold-fish rove, Through the bending twigs of the coral grove. LESSON LXIII. Sonnet, written in a Church-yard. BLACKWOOD'S MAGA ZINE. - A SWEET and soothing influence breathes around Or wild designs- a fair deceiving train — Full on my LESSON LXIV. The Dungeon.-LYRICAL BALLADS. AND this place our forefathers made for man! Each pore and natural outlet shrivelled up; By ignorance and parching poverty, His energies roll back upon his heart, And stagnate and corrupt; till, changed to poison, Seen, through the steams and vapor of his dungeon, Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deformed, With other ministrations thou, O Nature, LESSON LXV. The Baptism.-J. WILSON. Ir is a pleasant and impressive time, when, at the close of divine service, in some small country church, there take place the gentle stir and preparation for a baptism. A sudden air of cheerfulness spreads over the whole congregation; the more solemn expression of all countenances fades away; and it is at once felt, that a rite is about to be performed, which, although of a sacred and awful kind, is yet connected with a thousand delightful associations of purity, beauty, and innocence. Then there is an eager bending of smiling faces over the humble galleries an unconscious rising up in affectionate curiosity and a slight murmuring sound, in which is no violation of the Sabbath sanctity of God's house, when in the middle passage of the church the party of women is seen, mätrons and maids, who bear in their bosoms, or in their arms, the helpless beings about to be made members of the Christian communion. There sit, all dressed becomingly in white, the fond and happy baptismal group. The babes have been intrusted, for a precious hour, to the bosoms of young maidens, who tenderly fold them to their yearning hearts, and with en dearments taught by nature, are stilling, not always successfully, their plaintive cries. Then the proud and delighted girls rise up, one after the other, in sight of the whole congregation, and hold up the infants, arrayed in neat caps and long flowing linen, into their fathers' hands. For the poorest of the poor, if he has a heart at all, will have his infant well dressed on such a day, even although it should scant his meal for weeks to come, and force him to spare fuel to his winter fire. And now the fathers are all standing below the pulpit, with grave and thoughtful faces. Each has tenderly taken his infant into his toil-hardened hands, and supports it in gentle and steadfast affection. They are all the children of poverty, and, if they live, are destined to a life of toil. But now poverty puts on its most pleasant aspect, for it is beheld standing before the altar of religion, with contentment and faith. This is a time, when the better and deeper nature of every man must rise up within him; and when he must feel, more especially, that he is a spiritual and an immortal being making covenant with God. He is about to take upon himself a |