as pillars, and of the overhanging dome which seems to rest on their summits; but in vain we should attempt to describe the vast creations of His handiwork which adorn this magnificent outer temple. Within its walls, however, are sanctuaries, which no "frail hands have made," and where no traces of "man's pomp or pride" are to be seen, but where the humble worshiper, in all the simplicity of childlike faith, may hold communion with his Maker. These are "the groves""God's first temples"-whose "venerable columns" "thy hand, our Father, reared." GOD'S FIRST TEMPLES. 3. The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learn'd To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them-ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems-in the darkling wood, Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down And from the gray old trunks that, high in heaven, All their green tops, stole over him, and bow'd Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised? Let me, at least, Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, Offer one hymn; thrice happy if it find Father, Thy hand Hath rear'd these venerable columns: Thou Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down All these fair ranks of trees. They in Thy sun Here are seen No traces of man's pomp or pride; no silks 6. 7. 8. 9. Encounter; no fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race to change the form Of Thy fair works. But Thou art here; Thou fill'st Thyself without a witness, in these shades, Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace In all the proud old world beyond the deep, My heart is awed within me when I think Lo! all grow old and die; but see, again, There have been holy men who hid themselves Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks Around them; and there have been holy men But let me often to these solitudes Retire, and, in Thy presence, reassure The passions, at Thy plainer footsteps, shrink, O God! when Thou The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill, The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods, Its cities; who forgets not, at the sight Learn to conform the order of our lives.-BRYANT. THE PARTHENON OF ATHENS. Fair Parthenon! yet still must Fancy weep Thy gods, thy rites, a kindred fate have shared : Yet art thou honor'd in each fragment still That wasting years and barbarous hands have spared; HEMANS. Front Elevation of the Parthenon, as restored. See also p. 285. LESSON I.-INDIAN SUMMER. 1. WHEN was the red man's summer'? 2. When the rose Hung its first banner out'? When the gray rock, Started to see the proud lobelia glow Like living flame'? When through the forest gleam'd The rhododendron' ? or the fragrant breath Of the magnolia swept deliciously O'er the half laden nerve'? No'. When the groves In fleeting colors wrote their own decay, And leaves fell eddying on the sharpen'd blast That sang their dirge'; when o'er their rustling bed Heavy of wing and fearful'; when, with heart The Indian's joyous season. Then the haze, Soft and illusive as a fairy dream', Lapp'd all the landscape in its silvery fold. 3. The quiet rivers that were wont to hide 'Neath shelving banks', beheld their course betray'd By the white mist that o'er their foreheads crept', While wrapp'd in morning dreams', the sea and sky 4. Slept 'neath one curtain', as if both were merged' Gorgeous was the time, Yet ah! poor Indian', whom we fain would drive Both from our hearts, and from thy father's lands', The perfect year doth bear thee on its crown', And when we would forget', repeat thy name'.-MRS. SIGOURNEY. LESSON II.-FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. 1. THE most plain and natural sentiments of equity concur with divine authority to enforce the duty of forgiveness. Let him who has never, in his life, done wrong, be allowed the privilege of remaining inexorable. But let such as are conscious of frailties and crimes consider forgiveness as a debt which they owe to others. Common failings are the strongest lesson of mutual forbearance. Were the virtues unknown among men, order and comfort, peace and repose, would be strangers to human life. 2. Injuries retaliated according to the exorbitant measure which passion prescribes would excite resentment in return. The injured person would become the injurer; and thus wrongs, retaliations, and fresh injuries would circulate in endless succession, till the world was rendered a field of blood. 3. Of all the passions which invade the human breast, revenge is the most direful. When allowed to reign with full dominion, it is more than sufficient to poison the few pleasures which remain to man in his present state. How much soever a person may suffer from injustice, he is always in hazard of suffering more from the prosecution of revenge. The violence of an enemy can not inflict what is equal to the torment he creates to himself by means of the fierce and desperate passions which he allows to rage in his soul. 4. Those evil spirits that inhabit the regions of misery are represented as delighting in revenge and cruelty. But all that is great and good in the universe is on the side of clemency and mercy. The almighty Ruler of the world, though for ages offended by the unrighteousness and insulted by the impiety of men, is "long-suffering and slow to anger.' |