THE LIFE OF CHRIST.

BY MISS ADALIZA CUTTER.

THE BAPTISM.

THE sky was cloudless and serenely blue,

All blue and waveless Jordan's noble stream, The sun had kissed away the sparkling dew,

Sweet flowers looked up to greet the sun's bright beam; A thousand tuneful birds were on the wing;

While all was lovely as a fairy dream.

Sweet hour of peace! to mortals kindly given,

To turn from thoughts of earth, and dream awhile of Heaven!

And His meek servant, by that flowing river;

With noiseless step they press the verdant sod,

While to their words the green leaves seemed to quiver.

And, as if conscious of His presence there,

The very flowers bowed down their heads in prayer,

And all the watery reeds were seen to shiver.

Well might the soft leaves tremble as with fear,

And the bright flowers bow down, the Saviour's voice to hear!

He came to be baptized of him who stood

In such deep reverence by his Master's side;
His eyes were turned to earth in thoughtful mood,
As, with a tearful, trembling voice he cried,
O! I have need to be baptized of Thee;
Then wherefore, Saviour, comest thou to me?
In gentle tones the Saviour thus replied,

"Suffer it to be so now." He led the way

Down to the water's brink, where the cool waters play.

So John baptized his Master. When that rite,
That holy rite, with fervent prayer was ended,
The heavens were seen to open, and a light,

Celestial dove from its bright folds descended.
Then came a voice all tremulous with love,
In sweetest accents from the blue above,

And with the music of the waters blended, "My well beloved Son!" then died the tone,

And by that rolling stream once more they stood alone!

THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.

The morning broke in beauty o'er the world,
The shades of night in silence fled away;
The smiling sky triumphantly unfurled

The broad blue banner to the coming day;
The timid stars closed up each twinkling eye,
Hiding their lustre from the glowing sky,

And sung rejoicing on their sun-bright way.
Up rose the day-god then, while proudly rolled
His chariot wheels 'mid clouds of purple and of gold.

The Saviour sat upon the mountain's side,

And gazed with love o'er all the beauteous scene;
Sparkling beneath his feet, were seen to glide
Tibereas' waters, waveless and serene.
Before Him lay the city and the plain,

The rich green meadows, waving fields of grain;
While round Him there, on every side, were seen

Forests of cedar and of olive trees,

Whose soft leaves music made in every passing breeze.

Dense throngs were round Him. There was wondering childhood,

With rosy cheek and open, sunny brow;

His joyous rambles in the green, green wild-wood,

And merry sports were all forgotten now.
Upon the Saviour each bright eye was turned,
All wet with tear-drops, each young spirit burned
With new, and strange, and deep emotion. How

Eager they listened to the words that fell

From the warm lips of Him, who loved those children well!

And in that vast assembly, there was youth,

With flashing eye, lit by the spirit's dreaming,

To whom life seemed all poetry and truth,

Believing life was all that it was seeming.

Awhile they turned from day-dreams, and drew near
Where Jesus sat, his thrilling voice to hear,

Until each eye with a new light was gleaming;

A new fount in each heart was welling o'er,

Whose waves would bubble up in brightness evermore.

And there was woman, with her loving heart

Roused up with earnest, yet with tender feeling,

Ready to choose with joy that better part,

And treasure up the Spirit's strange revealing;

How eagerly at Jesus' feet they listened,

What tears welled up, and on each eyelid glistened,

While Faith and Hope came o'er their spirits stealing,

Like balmy slumber o'er the wearied powers,

Or the soft dew of night upon earth's folded flowers.

There too was manhood, with its dreams of glory,
With proud resolve, and purpose bold and high,
Intently listening to the Saviour's story,

With soul subdued, with thoughtful brow and eye.
Meekly they yielded to that strange emotion,
Humbly they bowed in deep, heart-felt devotion,

And owned the Saviour's mission from on high.
What now were learning, wealth, or fame, or pleasure,
Compared with that one gift, the soul's undying treasure!
And there were aged men with hoary hair,

Whose ties to earth had long ago been broken;
Warm hearts that mourned the beautiful, the fair,
Who passed away, nor left on earth a token;
With what deep joy they heard the Saviour tell
Of a bright world, where there was no farewell,
And parting words were never, never spoken.
What radiant light to their dim eyes was given,
To cheer the opening tomb, and point the way to Heaven!
Well might they gather round Him-youth and age,
Childhood and manhood; for a voice so thrilling

Ne'er spake on earth before ; — poet or sage

Ne'er breathed such truths, as from his lips distilling,
Fell on those fainting hearts, and made them glow
With love for God, and love for man below,

The warring passions of each bosom stilling.
His lightest words upon those heart-strings trembled,
And sweetest music made, no earthly tones resembled !
Well might they gather round Him well might linger,
And for awhile each earthly dream resign
As Jesus sat, and with unerring finger

Pointed to scenes all heavenly and divine.

Well might they come, their hearts with love all glowing,
Well might they come, their eyes with tears all flowing,

And humbly worship at the Saviour's shrine.

As the worn traveller greets the desert fountain,

So did they treasure up that Sermon on the Mountain !

A WORD TO MOTHERS. In the evening, when your children have prayed for pardon and peace, endeavor to infuse the spirit of that beautiful expression in the Psalmist, "I will both lay me down in peace and sleep; for thou, Lord, only makest me to dwell in safety." At no time is the influence of a mother more valuable than when her children are retiring to rest.

WHAT SMALL HANDS MAY DO.

A PRIZE ARTICLE.

BY MRS. S. S. A.

EMILY FANNING and Lucy Dale lived opposite each other in the same street, in the little village of Elmington in Massachusetts. Emily lived in a pretty white house, with green blinds, and a little court-yard in front filled with lilac and syringa and rose-bushes. There was a row of thrifty young trees before the house; and on the sunny side was a garden surrounded by a white paling, and filled in summer with long beds of vegetables, except the borders of the walks, which, from early Spring till late in the Autumn, presented a show of gay flowers. On the other side of the house was a long, low wing, with a separate door, and this was a store, for Emily's father was the store-keeper of the village. It was a neat, trim, pretty place, and Emily was the prettiest thing about it, neatly dressed as she always was, and as gay as a lark in doors and out.

Emily was out of doors a great deal. She had a love of flowers, which was almost a passion; and, as her mother kept a good servant and had but a small family, Emily had plenty of time allowed her to work in her garden; and it was she who arranged the flower borders with so much taste, and kept them in such beautiful order. From the first appearance of jonquils and daffodils and snowdrops till the last of the amaranths and marigolds and china-asters, no day ever saw the small china vases on the mantel in the parlor, or the glass goblet by the side of her father's plate on the breakfast-table, without its pretty bouquet of flowers. It was a pleasure to gather them, but a still greater pleasure, if possible, to cultivate them. How quickly she cleared the breakfast-table, washed the cups and saucers, and put every thing in its place, that she might snatch her sun-bonnet and run to her flowers! How winningly in a dry time would she coax Nancy to fill an immense tub with water, that it might stand in the sun