\ It .L695 ■■:■ -Or o ° " G * "*0 >> ^ ■ A ♦* *«. rv-> ^ ^. ^K^ & A ► A ■ V o ' .^ ^ V V o o •iv 'S * ^ *.%^ <* . : ■ A > V * t - \'- *»V Y « c>^V '/ * o u j i o. £ i b c x t ij £ I) i m c s Tin : I it It ' N !i . \ l I) 1. LADIES A.N II 3LA> l.K\ SO< 111 J 1 - 1-3 ■ ', .-. POTTER, PR1N1 1 ■ ( I. f. i i I ONI E N 1 s i \ ! I \\ V. P R A II A*. H i C A M i I I I I ; 3 S / ' /' / / R 1. I' II 1 1 l . I, • I / ■' 78 - Ill 11 l 11- FR E E S P MKCH How can \vc ask freedom lor the plantation . if the abolitionist bimself may not be trust- ed with liberty of Bpeech! If the advocates of humanity are not competent to meet together, and talk about freedom, without first being fettered, how can wild-passioned men hope to live free amid t< in excitements of conflicting life! It .-<:< in- to in' 1 , abolitionists had better first certain, whether any degree of freedom is possi- ble to thr;ii-> 1\< -. Whether any liberty — the lib- erty of thought — is practicable to any of the race. Whether unfortunate humanity be not, in fact, here on the earth, incapable of self-regulation, and only to be kept in a state of endurable servitude, by tear of tin aggregated brute force of Community ODD J We have gone manacled from our birth, and have trot to thinking chains are natural, to us — and that 14 LIBERTY CHIIMES. they were born with us. — They were born with its, — or we with them — but we better not have any more born so. — We inherited fetters from our " fathers," — but we better not transmit them. The right of speech — it is the right of rights - — the paramount and paragon attribute of our kind. It is glorious among the brutes, when it is free. The roar of the lion — it is majestic and sublime in his native desert. — Not so, when he grunts un- der the stir of the poker, in the menagerie. The scream of the eagle, in the sky — or on the crag, where he lives and has his home — how unlike his most base croak, when they withhold his allowance in the cage that you may hear him make a noise. The one is free speech, in " free meeting." The other, speech-making, under chairs, boards and business committees. — How different the wild note of the life-bird, in the top of the high pine, when the setting sun awakens her throat after the shower, — how different, from the clutter of the poor caged canary, in the pent up street of the city. But illustration fails. — The glory and beau- ty of freedom cannot be illustrated. It must be witnessed — experienced, and felt. BE STEECII. \'j Speech is the on! of tyrants. It is the thing they control or encounter — Brute force ha y to mate!) it. " Four hos- tile pi — the most formida- ble brute the modem world has seen — "are than a lit!!..'., . d thous he might ha. — if it is tree. And if if , it will ho hostile lo tyranny. It i i ■ • the king of t< i to both. '! »ard has nothing to oppose to it, but th< >net. The bayonet is the ! argument, — and only argument. A board without a b is a hornet without a :■ b toothli . i. i nt it u ill try to •a orry ami I -w u fi i i spe< ch if it ci Ami as the bayonet is the board's only argument, bo only boards ever wield that ugly and hateful implement. Individuality never can hold or maintain it. — The individual can resort only to the truth. kC Stop his m >u;h '" cries alarmed and exasper- ated tyranny. Stifle his outcry! mankind will hear 16 LIBERTY CHIMES. him! Shut him up, where he cannot be heard! Let his dungeon be deep and his walls thick, — not so much to keep him, as to keep him from be- ing heard! I must not hear him myself. "It dis- turbs my tranquility." Keep him alone ! It is the uttered word, that awakens the tread and that moves mankind. Words arc the storm that "awakens its deep." Words revolutionize society and nations, and change human condition. They bring those " changes," the " fear "of which " perplexes monarchs." Monarchy builds its bas- tiles to imprison them. It erects them amid the silence of the people, and it is only speech that can throw them down. The bastile of France, that fell at the outbreak of her dread revolution, — it was not artillery that prostrated its walls, but they were shaken down by the thunder and earth- quake of the voice of the people, and had France known the power of that voice, she would have shaken down with it 6 very throne in Europe. But she took the bayonet and it failed. It failed even in the hand of Bonaparte, the strongest hand that ever grasped it to conquer the world. It failed. FREE SPEECH. 11 and France is again in chains. Kings build their bastiles again in her borders, for the imprisonment of the people, but they have to build them in a later style of architecture than the old Gothic. :' i it of ' ■ ".Id awaken again the people's voice. \ id B maparte hi ns ! . with a wall around him of half a million of b ibled at the slightest breath of fi Thecreatui i sh C o - \i a t im was at war with her — when the proud island stood tajed at his t!: 1 ent upon her, — i he li"\< ■[•< 1 v, iiii his dreadful marshals on nnel, the English ( mon Ph rounding with the call of the • come into Court and er i" the complain! of Napoleon Bonap or his default would be recorded." — The Emper- or had no confidence at all in his terrible Mar- shals, — or the armies of Italy and of Egypt, so long as free speech could libel him with impunity in the codec houses of London. And did it strike iny body as ludicrous, that Bonaparte should be b2 18 LIBERTY CHIMES. scared at a libel? not at all. His folly was, that he sought to defeat it by a law-suit. Had he been a man, he would have sent an article against the libelcr, to the British press. He did not dare to. He was a tyrant — the truth was against him, — free speech was uttering it. — It scared him, and he stu- pidly went to law. I forget whether he got the case ! To come nearer home, and to the fields of moral strife. Corporation is the same coward and tyrant- foe of free speech, in the chair — the board — the business committee, as in the camps and courts of kings : and free speech, the bane and terror of corporation in all its forms. Its motto and banner words, — No Committees — nor commitment. No Boards, on which to lay humanity out, for a living burial. — Association — but of associate indi- viduab — whole individuals — unabated and undi- luted. Concert of action — but of individual, personal action — where no combination can bring upon individual freedom, the wizard spell of the majority — where that monstrosity is not known — where unfelt and unacknowledged, is the influence REFORM. 19 of numbers and the authority of names— where are no great men — no leaders ; — that sends out its (Treat truths, backed up by no external or extrinsic force, to make their own way to the free and un- awed heart of the people. — This is the " anti- slavery society. " — The New Hampshire Anti- ivery Society is Buch. The humblest and poorest of anti-slavery bodies. — Poor in every thing but its principles, its love of liberty, and its fidelity to the cause of I [umanity. Inthese it isrich. — It proffers its hard righl hand of working fellow- ship to the anti-slavery of the land, and especially to the field-tried and Bervice-worn handful in little Rhode Island. — It is " auxiliary " to all anti- s | a , iciety, — subsidiary to none, as indeed no il anti-slavery body would claim of i1 subordina- tion or homage. I 1RD, N II. 20 LIBERTY CHIMES. REFORM. i;Y WENDELL PHILLIPS. Let no one who looks for fame join us. Let him wait rather, and he one of that crowd w will flock like doves to our windows, the moment the first gleam of success shall gild them. Our work is only to throw up, ourselves unseen, the pathway over which, unheeding, the triumphant majority are to pass, shouting the names of later and gaudier leaders as their watch-words. How few have ever heard of Zachary Macauley, — the counsellor to whom Wilberforce looked up, — one who rose before the sun to give every hour to the slave, and died at last that glorious poor man, which the creditor of humanity always is. But thousands echo the easier earned fame of his son ! How few know any thing of that little committee REFORM. ,i '■ ( labored unseen, in Lombard- thai Wilberforce ami Clarkson might be in the - people, — .1 with • ish heart, ■ 1 it finally in I A i ; bu1 them, to 1 _ - for- tcn, while the gallant ship which they had inched bo painfully,— baptized with a q< nan w ith a nev« Sag, anchored in • •v. | irg Review, that th ' 1,r allowed to :i ia the ordinary of events. . ... . it, b) imposing t of n labor, and i m- :.i- to t< II ua that higher motives than any man i nt to actuate tho • . >v< rmnent." In the place of ' Government,' put u Reform," and the sentim l cause like "in b. \ :.• -.,; - old Fuller, M that God LIBERTY CHIMES. honors thee not to build his temple in thy \ yet thou mayest, with David, provide metal and materials for Solomon, thy successor, to build it with." Some reluct at the long time requisite to change the institutions of a nation, or regenerate its public sentiment. But here too, a moment's thought shows us, how wise in this respect is t lie order of Providence. The progress of a great reform is a nation's school. It creates as it advances, the moral principle, the individual independence, the habit of private judgment, the enlightened public opinion, which are necessary for its own success ; and thus, by new moulding the national character and elevating its tone of morals, it confers far other and greater benefits than its originators at first proposed. And further, it naturally opens the eye to kindred abuses, or growing itself out of a wrong principle, which has other results beside this immediate one, it insensibly prepares the way for wider and more radical reform. Having once gathered under its banner an army of disinterested and enthusiastic hearts, its slow advance keeps REFORM. 23 thorn in the field 1 I them veteran and . Foi ty make the Egypti Joshua to ad, and a fil id and i M. An f ■ .1. nt for a • ni lav. <• 'I long, that w\, | .c people W ill ha-, i 1" i D in- struct.!] in tip for something more than a in, i, | of an a forms ar< to be recruited ; and that to shut eyes to the light of other reformations is t< be ti ■ the past. BOS! W 2 , rH I IERICAN UNIO N 1 w iin- i\ exul- and rtfa I ch 2R LIBERTY CHIMES. threaten to turn thy beauty into ugliness ? Dost thou feel thine infirmities, and seek the strength of righteousness ? Wouldst thou be great in goodness as in numbers, wealth and power ? Wouldst thou be indeed " the home of the brave, and the land of the free ?" Wouldst thou lead of! the nations of the earth in the grand march of reform, to welcome the dawn of that long pre- dicted era when universal Love and Peace shall reign ? Does this sublime ambition throb in thy mighty heart ? Does it pulsate through all thy vast system of political and religious organiza- tion ? Does it rule thy counsels, direct thy policy, and breathe through thy powerful influ- ences ? Does it animate thy statesmen, thy legis- lators, thy philosophers, thy literati, thy scribes, thy religious and moral teachers ? Are all thy ef- forts, energies and interests unitedly directed to the attainment of such a destiny ? Alas ! my country, I blush, I tremble for thee. Thou art indeed capable of all that constitutes true greatness. Heaven and earth have lavished their gifts upon thee in boundless profusion. THE AMERICAN' UNION. 21 Nothing is wanting in thee but a right spirit — a pure heart. These thou lackest. Thou hast made fair professions. Thou hast solemnly ac- knowledged the noblest principles of action. Thy career opened with promises of unparalleled use- fulness to the human race. Liberty, equalii justice, mercy, progress, happiness, were thy watchwords. Bui where now isii6«rtyf Where is equality ; Where is justice ? Where is mer- Where arc the pillars of thy greatness ? Where is thy moral excellency ? Where is that true majesty which exalts a nation — the majc of righteousness : Nearly three millions of hu- man beings, whose birth-right was freedom, clank the chains of slavery, and send up to heaveo una- vailing sioans f'-r liberty, for justice, for mercy. Thy vast cotton harvest is annually moistei with their sweat and tears. Thy sugar cane and rice fields flourish by their unrequited toil. Thy alt h . rolling m golden streams across the land ia tainted with their lash-extorted blood. They iuld fly from thy tyranny, but thou pursm tern with blood-hounds. All thy citizens are in 28 LIBERTY CHIMES. league to keep them in bondage. They would rise up and fight for liberty, after the example of thy revolutionary worthies, but thou terrifiest them with thine armies — with threats of swift and terrible de- struction. They would kneel in humble petition before thy Congress, and sue for the crumbs of liberty which fall from their masters' tables : but glaves are not permitted even to petition. They would learn letters and acquire knowledge ; but it is made a high misdemeanor to teach them. They would enjoy their wives, their husbands, their children, the endearments of family and borne, to solace themselves amid the sadness and dreariness of their servitude ; but these are all rudely trampled under foot by their oppressors. Every ligament of tender affection is torn asun- der. Degradation, ignorance, toil, and unnum- bered miseries — immeasurable wrongs crush them as between the upper and nether millstone. Who is horror-struck at all this oppression ? Who burns with shame ? Who weeps bitter tears of repentance ? Who rises up to put away these abominations ? Who are they that propose to THE AMERICAN UNION'. 29 break every yoke, and let the oppressed go free r Are t _ - . ates .'.en, legislat rs, rs. politicians, divines and ; 3, forth all their influence to ace indis- Lble refi rm f Al - ' see tie mark their pi ' They g] ma ; th< aten to extend the area of o?er all M< and yet they call it the area "f IV 1 I no sha me, they ce no compunctioo ; they dash forward war-hoi igh-shod over their fallen victims : proclaiming to the world with mate] <• the rightfulness of all their robberi - the mercy of all their cruelty; and the increo f their down-trodden fellow n d •• amt n " <<;' a de- They Bhout to the onward i m »st intolerable wrong and outrage. And the highest places ol religion, a spurious and adul- gion, blasphemously pronounce bene- ■ i"!!- on heaven-daring iniquity - ■ though hand join in hand, wickedness like shall . • _ r o unpunished. Hear, O people 2 SO LIBEItTY CHIMES. the word of Jehovah : !cp> " This is a rebellious people, lying children, children that will not hear the law of the Lord : which say to the Seers, See not, and to the prophets, Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things, pro- phesy deceits. Wherefore thus saith the Holy One of Israel, Because ye despise this word, and trust in oppression and perverseness, and stay thereon : Therefore this iniquity shall be to you as a breach ready to fall, swelling out in a high wall, whose breaking cometh suddenly at an in- stant." Isa. 30 : 9—13. "He that heareth let him hear, and he that forbcareth, let him forbear." Ezek. 3 : 27. Hopedale, Mass, TUL NATION 5 DESTINY 31 r ii E NATION - i :: - r i n \ . ! I 1 I And < I.i r " • : ,,•!,,.. I ung ' ' ^ r V* fame 1 ' I - it the pri< e you'll pa) for 6 i - j I J HOW IS II 1 .all unpaid, V fill'd bj bail crumble to the ground ■lit! . LIBERTY CHIMES. You sow'd the wind, the whirlwind you shall reap — The harvest-feast in sorrow you shall keep. Mourn for Columbia now ! The arm uf God For the crushed poor takes the avenging rod The nation trembles as it hears the word, While gathered vials of His wrath are pour'd— Mercy has moved her starry win<_ r a\\a\. And grieved — no longer seeks his wrath to si Mourn for Columbia now — restraining g Is all withheld — ami utter darkness si ids. While o'er the sky rise fast portentous i From east to west, from north in south, no ray To gild the darkness of that dreadful day. Dire scenes of old. when nations (hunk with ■ Crumbled to dust, at high Jehovah 9 Shall now transpire in thee ; when thou -halt feel Worse tortures than thy despot's branding stei ! The heaven above be brass, and plag From thy soil, rife with human victims* cries, — And, left alone, thy Buicidal race Will slay each other in a fell embra ***** Perchance, when ages more shall roll around. When the mock temple crumhles to the ground. A glorious dome shall rise — a home of love, That shall a refuge to the earth-worn pre an i v\ a wom ln do i I 34 LIBERTY CHIMES. WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO? BY RICHARD IIILDRETH. The female heart is soft ; the affections of woman are warm ; her sensibilities are easily ex- cited. Her first impulse is, to give her aid to every effort designed for the benefit of suffering humanity. Yet what can a woman do ? — This question presents itself at the outset, and smothers the desires of many a benevolent heart. What can a woman do ? There is inherent in each individual man and woman, a certain portion of moral power. It is this which makes them human ; for of mere physi- cal power, many animals possess more. It is this moral power, which has gradually softened and humanized the more favored portions of the race ; ii is by means of this moral power, that all revolu- tions and all advancements have been made. Wo- WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO ? 35 men share it equally with men. In all changes of opinion, in all the great struggles attendant upon such changes, they have always borne a conspicu- ous part. The Grand Rebellion in Great Britain, which transferred the government of that country from the privy council of the king, into the hands of the property holders, and gave to England such freedom as Bhe has, owed much, at its starting point, to lho» d who overwhelmed the long Parliament with petitions, and who commenced the rebellion in Scotland, by an energetic and even tumultuous resistance to the introduction of the litu Xh 1» revolution, which in its results, has iuch changes throughout Europe and the prorld, was cradled and nursed in the saloons of Paris, where female influence had reached a higher point than any where else before. It is 1 1 ue, that taking the past history of the >rld together, the influence of woman appears, on the whole to have been small. This however i« more apparent than real. We have the history of battles, and Bieges, and political intrigues., and 36 LIBERTY CHIMES revolutions of governments ; but the true history of the human race, the history of the progress of opinion, of the development of intellectual and moral power, remains to be written. Christendom for twelve centuries, had its opinions controlled by the Catholic church ; and the Catholic church knows well the power of female influence. The several orders of female devotees, were and are, a great pillar of its power ; and female saints abound in its calender. It has been the same with the Protestant churches. Is it not notorious, that at this moment, every Protestant sect in America, is mainly upheld, its churches built, its ministers paid, its associations and charities sus- tained, by the efforts and influence of the women ? In every church the female members far out-num- ber the men ; and the men who are there, seven times out often, are carried there and kept there, by the women. In all this, it is true, the women have played and play, but a secondary part ; they are led on, marshalled, ruled and used by male leaders. They are treated as the British treat the Hindoos who compose the bulk of their Indian WHAT CAN A WOMAN DO ? 37 armies. They arc welcome to serve as common soldiers, but are not permitted to rise above the rank of corporal ; or sergeant at the best. And the reason is the same in both cases. The intel- lect of the men has been far more developed than that of the women. It has been held, and in most countries still is held, a sin and a crime for B woman to dare to think for herself. Even here in N«\\ England, a woman who adopts that course, us looked upon with suspicion and distrust, as an ambiguous character. Vet the tiling becomes more and marc common ; and is fast losing its strangeness. Having admitted women to equality in education ; having opened to thern the doors of the Bchool-roOBQ and the lecture-room ; having allowed them to read not sermons and books of de- rotion only, but novels, and histories, and news- papers, and every thing else, it is impossible to keep them from thinking ; and women who think, will presently feel and act, not as their mothers nnd grandmothers did, but in accordance with those new ideas to which they have attained. But how can they act ? They cannot vote ; c 38 LIBERTY CBIMESV they cannot preach, — at least not many of them ; — they cannot legislate ; — what can they do ? more than voter, preacher or legislator. Each and all of those, is but the instrument to promulgate, or carry into effect, some pre-established opinion. No man can preach except as the expounder and defender of opinions already espoused by his hearers, or a part of them. If he preaches his own opinions in contradiction to theirs, he must be content to lack salary and a pulpit, and to seek audience as Paul did, in the market-place, or cor- ners of the streets, at the risk not only of brick- bats and rotten eggs, but of the police and the house of correction. How many men are equal to that ? No man can legislate except in confor- mity to the opinions of those who make him a leg- islator ; and the voter does only signify by his vote, his adherence to a certain principle or opin- ion which he thereby proclaims and vindicates. Behind all these is the opinion preached, voted for, made into law, — and whence comes that ? It is first conceived in the deptks of some few con- templative souls ; thence, as circumstances oppose WHAT CAN" A WOMAN DO ? 39 y. favor, it is more or less gradually communicated to others ; and this little leaven, worked in and diffused imperceptibly almost, through the mass, presently leavens the whole lump. The mass ferments, rises, and becomes something which it was nut before. All the kneading, rolling, baking and fussing in the world, will not make bread, without the leaven to b-egin with. For instilling into the public mind, and diffusing through society those new opinions, in which all social changes must have their origin, women pos- sess peculiar advantages. They have an access to the hearts of men, which no man has. They have an access to the hearts of children, peculiai to thei. those childi-en who are soon to be- come men and women, aud to influence, for good or evil, the destinies of the race. There is no woman whose soul is possessed by anv "reat idea, and who longs for its diffusion, who may not Income, if she has patience and perseverence, a very apostle among the children of some little village school which she teaches, or who may be otherwise within the circle of her in- 40 LIBERTY CHIMES. fluence, may perhaps be, sporting and prattling, the political and social leaders of the next genera- tion. Who knows ? Let her scatter the seed then hopefully. Some no doubt, will fall upon « stony places, and some among thorns,' and much, the fowls of the air will devour. But some too, will fall upon good ground, and will produce fruit twenty, and fifty, and an hundred fold. Boston, Mass. SLAVE-HOLDERS AT THE NORTH. 41 THE RECEPTION OF SLAVE- HOLDERS AT Til E X OUT II. : a i \ . To .) jcharge the duty of faithful rebuke those who are violating the plain commands of the • ) [jgh God, requires an amount of moral ,,. which few pos Naturally we arc in- clined to cov< I the good will of our fellow pil- grims. A Bmile accompanied with the voice friendship, is more acceptable and comforting than a frown, indicating feelings of bitterness. Papecially is the duty of rebuke, uttered to the wrong-doer, a great trial to our Christian integ- rity, when by ties of kindred and long familial lintance we arc influenced to forbear. The pe ( . sample of Jesus, and the truthfulness of i 2 42 LIBERTY CHIMES. the Apostles and early Christians, present a prof- itable theme upon which to expatiate. But sad is our deficiency of imitation in respect to a consist- ent practice. I apprehend one of the strong holds of the dark and terrible system of American slavery is to be found in the reception of slave-holders at the North. The southerner finds it pleasant and profitable often, for a season, to turn his back upon the land of " whips and chains," and mingle with relatives, friends and acquaintances at the north. Inflated with the pride of a tyrant, — wrapped up in a garment of self-esteem, he deigns to pass himself off as an honest and moral man in the community where he chances to make a tempora- ry sojourn. He throws himself back upon his dig- nity and chivalry, and walks erect as though no foul stain rested upon his garments. Say you, he is an ignorant sinner? It may in a measure be so. I have no time to discuss this point. But how is the slave-holder received by those who profess to look upon Man-stealing as a sin ? Does he hear the voice of remonstrance and warn- • I.aVE-HOLDERS at the north. 43 ing : Is he told of his atrocious crimes ofraur- oes he return to his fool w.,rk of hate and tyranny goaded and tormented out ol by what bia eyes have . Dj :in ,i : beard in the ao Cnorthern- Doea the rattle of the chain terrify bia Poet the streaming blood which follows the _ ion lash harro* bia c mscience : I »oes llie p| e , r sundered hearta around the auction block • bia kn lite in an- ruisfa : Does the mighty flood of licentious^ w kiieh meets bis eye at every turn, pain and wcken bis soul F Alas, we must answer, no. With the comfortable assurance, " I am not a ,nor above others," the Blave-holder returns from bis pleasant visit to the north. His banda are then* d in the dark work of oppression. He 44 LIBERTY CHIMES, has procured an anodyne to his conscience, and hugs his robber-plunder to his " heart of hearts.'' To all about him he proclaims the pleasing tidings of a gracious reception, nattering carresses, and constant marks of attention from those who arc supi osed to be the enemies of their "peculiar in- stitution." Abolitionists, these " tilings ought not so to be." We are too faint-hearted, too taciturn, too tame, in respect to the monster who perpetrates the sin of Man-stealing. On our part^at least, there should be no compromise — no good natured truce with the man in whose character concentrates all the works of damning darkness. Let us respect and count humanity too sacred to treat a slave- holder like a gentleman, and brand the horse- thief as a villain. The character of the former is as black as the fabled regions of darKness com- pared with the latter. Mercy shall be our theme to the repentant soul, and "tribulation, anguish and wrath upon every man that doeth evil." In the meek, mild, yet uncompromising spirit of Him who came to " preach deliverance to the captive.*' I LATE-HOLDERS A1 THC NORTH. 45 let us Bound th< of rebuke in every slave- mes within speaking distance. Then shall o and/eei that pre are true to our | —true to the crushed bondman, and truel G d. 1 1 irtDAi i . V • 46 LIBERTY CRIMES. TREASON! TREASON!! TREA- SON!!! BY C. K. WHIPrLE. Very well ; be it so ! We do not shrink from the name that designates our act, nor do we fear the position into which that act brings us. But, you who clamor so violently against us, are you really so instructed in the affairs of this world as to suppose that treason is always and necessarily a crime ? Truly illustrious are the predecessors whose traitorous footsteps we follow. We do not seek protection beneath the shelter of their names ; truth, right, justice, the arm of the living God, are a sufficient defence for us ; but since you need treason ! ! 1 47 die authority winch their eminence and popularity give to acts like theirs, you shall have it. I!> ard you never of the Roman Brutus, of the British Sydney, the Polish Kosciusko, the Greek Bozzarris, the American Washington, Hancock, Adam-. Warren, Henry r Rank traitors were every one of them ! resistersof established authority, violators of law. and each not only ex- p .-■ d, but certain, had he fallen alive into the hands of the existing and established government of his country, to have died a traitor's death. These men were defenders of liberty of conr nee, freedom of thought, speech and action, the rights of the minority ; they recognized in jus- tic something superior to law and rightfully tak- ing i ace of it. Without expressing thern- themselves in Bible phraseology, their actions plainly said, "Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge vf •;'" and if those to whom this appeal was made judged blindly and unjustly, these conscien- tious traitors renounced that decision, judged for themselves., followed up their judgment with ac- 48 LIBERTY CHIMES. tion, and cheerfully risked, for the sake of princi- ple, the loss of property, life, and present reputa- tion, knowing that the truth which they held fast was more precious than all these combined. The very men who now cry out so zealously for law and order, as if there were no better things in the universe, are loudest in their praises of Washington for his resistance to law, and his vi- olation of order. Alas! their inconsistency gives us reason to fear that the success of the Ameri- can revolution, rather than its justice, gives it glory in their eyes. But was not Washington's rebellion against the tyrannical British laws as just and righteous while he bore the obloquy and risked the doom of a traitor, as now that he has become the idol of the world ? The justice of a revolutionary movement then is quite independent of success or failure, and may be decided with perfect certainty while the result is yet pending. It is to be settled, not by armies or majorities, alike impotent attempts of might to make right, but by deliberate inquiry into the merits of the case, and an application to TREASON ! ! ! 49 it of the plain and immutable rules of right and wrong. If these show distinctly and decidedly for while a single doubt remains upoa a subject 01 such moment, we should refrain from action,) if these show distinctly and decidedly, that the hu- man law in question is opposed to essential justice and the law of God, it should be to us as if it had never been, and should receive from us no more respect or consideration than any other de- tected imposture. Socrates, Jesus, Paul, for vindicating the claims of righteousness against existing laws, d and rej< cted of men, and finally Buffered death, stigmatized as enemies of the civil and religious institutions of their country. But the judgment of their contemporaries has been completely reversed by posterity. Their names are now held in high esteem, and men say, and qo doubt Beriously think. ,; it' we had lived in those we would not have been partakers in the blood of those just men." But are we uncharita- ble in Buspecting that they deceive themselves, when we see them denouncing and reproaching D LIBERTY CHIMES. the men of the present day who, like those illus- trious martyrs, make right their standard rather than law ? With such laws of this country as are just and righteous, we have no quarrel; but in so far as they authorize slavery, and enjoin war for its sup- port, we repudiate and renounce them ; we can- not respect, and we will not obey them. Such is the position of abolitionists. Let us see now what those are doing whom abolitionists call pro-slavery men. The southern church and state (as represented by Governer Hammond and Rev. Dr. Fuller of South Carolina,) are putting forth an elaborate defence of slavery from the Bible, and declaring the perfect accordance of that "sum of all villain- ies" with their religious system ; and the north- ern church and state, (as represented by Bishop Doane and the Honorable Rufus Choate i are coming to the same end by a different course, namely, a defence of the divine right of govern- ments, which if established, would show by neces- sary implication that whatever crime a governor LEASON ! ! ! j\ amands may be perpetrated without guilt by bject. Thus priests and politicians of'the i tic south play into each other's hands for of slavery. The leaders in church and state boldl lulgate these detestable doc- trine-, tii the lie to the 1 and Declaration of Independence, both of which they > hold sacred. . and up the movement by thiMw \\ heir power in the way of the abolitionist. What is the duty, in this emergency, of faith- ful followers of him who was at once Prince of Peace and preacher of deliveran captiv< Are we to '' becau • Reverends," and ," an 1 " I lon- orables" are binding tist him because these titled pcr- at themselves as r ecru il ^eants, U3 their dis ion from the sin of ily! ( iristianity, while it repudiates carnaKw - on agai 52 LIBERTY CHIMES. all sin. We are now liable at any moment to be called upon by our profligate government to commit one of the most detestable of crimes in its support. A war in favor of Texas would be a war against the slave! A war in favor of Tex- as would be the deliberate support of slavery by murder! Let those wage such a war who will; but let them be aware that they are to find in the rapidly increasing band of Anti-Slavery men and women neither support nor acquiescence, but de- termined, active opposition. They will find the cry of " treason" as powerless as that of tl infidel- ity" to restrain us. Regardless of both, while we feel ourselves supported by the precepts and ex- ample of Christ, we repeat the declaration: We will not countenance or aid the United States Government in any war which may be occasioned by the annexation of Texas, or in any other war, foreign or domestic, designed to strengthen or perpetuate slavery. Boston, Mass. HIE BOND-WOMAN 5 rR.VVER. 0-3 V ] I I : B OND-WO M A N ' S P R A Y E R hi up mi the -till niLflit air, The crackling flames 9hot high, \ii.1 darkly love them, to irn to them good for evil ? Can the meek in- herit t!i«- earth . : [s Christianity, the religion of peace, adapted to the world . : Anans^ g .en t • i testions by the bayonet and the 8 word, by the pomp of military array; the answer is heard in the beat of the drum, in the roar of the cannon Q by the 91 -man in his vaunt of na- tional Btrength, by the soldier in Ins aspiration for fame, by everv one who maintains the necessity for the appeal to arms. This answer is No ' cm- atically No ! We cannot love our enemies 56 LIBERTY CHIMES. we cannot do good to those who injure us ; we cannot return good for evil. The meek cannot in- herit the earth. Christianity is not adapted to the world. The reasoning of men gives the same answer. The spirit of Jesus Christ, who, when smitten, sub- mitted, when reviled, reviled not again, who was led as a lamb to the slaughter — this spirit of meek- ness and self-sacrifice is not proper for man ! We have duties to discharge to others as well as to ourselves, which demand the opposite traits of character. If we did not resist evil, it would be an encouragement to evil-doers ; if we submitted to fraud, injustice, or rebellion, the result would be that confusion and bloodshed would every where prevail. If a nation were to bear one insult with Christian humility, it would open the way for fur- ther manifestations of contempt ; if an aggression were humbly submitted to, it would be repeated ; if one inch of territory were given up, the whole would be claimed. Life, property, and welfare depend on the sword, for there are many nations, living in peace and security, without Christianity, CHRISTIANITY IN THE WORLD. Oi but who ever heard of a civilized people, which did not recognize the appeal to arms for defence ? It is the garrison, not the pulpit — the soldier, not the priest — bold --. oot humility — the power to -, not the disposition to endure wrong, which minister t<> the happiness of the world. W e , I 1 on the trumpet-tone of war, not on the whis- of kindness. We are preserved by iw of i >t by the law of love. "\\ e put our trust in ength of the right arm, not in the p I. A religion of peace is not adapted to the \\ orld. There is no common ground, no meeting point, immingling togi ther of the spirit of Christ and ODD I innot bring them to- gether in the same heart. A man can at best but them ; he can only decide when he will be humble, when e :lf-confident — when he will submit, when rebel — when ho will be mild and forbearing, when harsh and revengeful — when he will be peaceable, when warlike. It is impossible to combine these conflicting traits of character, ite purposes ; what ! a valiant soldier. 08 liberty chimes. smitten upon one cheek, turning the other to the foe — a meek Christian ready to meet injury with injury, blood with blood ! We know that it has been by some pretended that the law of love is not intended to go into full operation until some lapse of time ; that the bind- ing effect of the gospel is put off to some future day, to some indefinite period, when the whole world shall become converted and christianized ; then there will be no necessity for the fight, no need of the recourse to the sword. We can all be meek then, and safely too. But surely, a religion, which commands love to enemies, is not adapted to a world, where there are no enemies to be loved. What becomes of our present duties as followers of the Prince of Peace, here, in the present state, now, at this very time, when there are enemies to be loved and wrongs to be borne ? It has been said too, that the great and paramount office of Christianity is to save men's souls ; that it is a personal affair between God and the individual conscience, that it takes no special cognizance of the political or social relations, having in all its CHRISTIANITY IN THE WORLD. 59 laws reference to the eternal interests, the peculi- ar inner good of every man, the salvation of the soul. Be it so. It is not he, who saycth, Lord! Ma th his will, who imbibes his spirit— it is he, who is saved. Now, the will of our Saviour is, that we do good to our enemies ; the spirit of our M i yield up even life it- self for their safety. Thifl t; preparation for heav- that th<«re should be law, securit; i bere. This world wag ,. ,. , P eat( d as a mere thrcc-score-and-ten of ;in; „>, as a dreary prison house to hold : "' tna1, ThlS lri . | ,d's truth ! He attests to it himself in the mag- isionofhisgiftsto men [ye energy has been exerted— as may well appear to us— to its utmost range. Look p 0n this - theatre of the present life, our beautiful world, rolling continually through almost illimitable Bpace, that the sun afar off may warm and cheer, < eerj part of it, surllicc, that the rays each .tar of the heavenly host may be drunk 60 LIBERTY CHIMES. in by every eye, making even " darkness trans- parent" and beautiful. It is delight to breathe in such a world, to eat of its fruit, to drink at its chrystal springs, to have the cheek bathed in its balmy winds, the senses soothed by its colors and shapes, its fragrance and melody; its varied sur- face and its changes, its order, its permanence, all these, all, pertaining to the time-vesture of God, prove that the world is not a mere appendage of little value in itself, but that it is a part of eterni- ty, and that the welfare of man here in this life is the aim and object of the Almighty God. He, then, who is commissioned to declare the will of our Father in Heaven, and to ordain laws upon the earth, will make known those truths, and establish that government which sympathizes with nature, and which will minister to the happiness of man and the welfare of society. A revelation from Heaven will contain an element of social or- der, will guard our lives, our rights, our happiness upon the earth. The world has not found this element of social order in meek Christianity. It dares not to carry CHRISTIANITY IN THE WORLD. 61 out into the social relations, the mild, merci- ful and self-sacrificing spirit. It has pronounced its judgment that the religion of peace, which would strike from its hand the sword, is not adapt- ed to the or* curity and happiness of man. What then i- to he done: Surely if the thorough and complete obedience to the letter and spirit of Christ's teaching, u when smitten upon one check, turn ye the oth< i would give full scope to evil — overthrow all authority — expose the chris- tian t" < i i :i' - of crime — deluging the earth with blood, 90 that neither the wives of our bosoms, nor the children of our hearts, neither the voting in their innocency, nor the eld in their feebleness, could be mould we net abjure it at once, boldly and i« arl< ad not i >>ntinue to profess it with the lips, when almost t a lever under the slavb ; a lever wh me longer aim reaches into Heaven, and is » beneath the ight of G terns] throne ami all his angels of lm ht. O, they wi!i raise him ! they will raise him ! without the aid or consent of human legisla- tion. And think you those swelling millions will ip from that descending lever to fight a nation- al duel, and soil their souls with the blood of fra- tricide - i ' war, there is treason in your can 66 LIBERTY CHIMES. There are a hundred thousand " Hartford Con- ventions" holding their simultaneous sessions, once a week, all over Christendom, on purpose to frustrate your belligerent projects. A secret coa- lition of people of all languages and tongues, is now on foot to transfer your empire to a foreign power which you have refused to acknowledge. Multitudes of your countrymen are first and fore- most in this deep-laid plot. A new but long pre- dicted Kingdom is about to be established, which shall embrace the whole continent of humanity. Its great Founder, the Prince of Peace, has al- ready been crowned King of Kings. His coro- nation was celebrated in the courts of heaven long before the creation of man. The promise that he should reign King of nations as he does King of saints, is as old as eternity, strong as the pillars of his Father's throne. His government is or- ganized ; his officers are appointed ; and thou- sands in America have taken rank in his Legion of Honor, and bear about in their bosoms the Bethle- hem Star of their heavenly knighthood. The code of bis immutable laws has been published. He THE PROSPECT OF PEACE. 67 himself read the last proof sheet and sealed it with his blood, when he cried on Calvary, •' It is fin- ished ! It is finished.'!" With his dying breath he made it the test of allegiance to carry his stat- ute book to the uttermost corners of the earth and read it in the ears of every human being. Thou- sands and thousands of the most patriotic sons of America and the most loyal subjects of Britain have taken the oath of that covenant and received that heavenly commission. Six tunes a year, in solemn convocation, they renew the sublime terms of their fealty, and swear upon the altar of their God and King, that, whether the British empire stand or fall, whether the experiment of the American Republic succeed or fail, they and their children and their children's children, will adhere to the letter of their covenant with the Prince of Peace. The Christians of the Anglo-Saxon race have been singled out as kings and priests unto God, as co workers with him in the redemption of mankind. And think you they will prove recreant to their heavenly calling r Will they exchange the bad-re of Jesus for the tri-colored cockade of 63 LIBERTY CHIMES. some bloody faction ? Will they throw away their august commission for one in your armies and na- vies ? No ! they have signed a commercial trea- ty with eternity ; a treaty of eternal peace. And let me say in conclusion, that, in the recent treaty with Great Britain, the two great Anglo- Saxon nations have at last recognized these mighty and multifarious bonds of peace. Look on Bun- ker Hill ! There stands the Grave Stone of war ! Through all the remaining ages of the race, a consecrated halo of heaven's purest light will encircle its august and lofty brow. Sweeter than strains of fabulous melody, the perennial mu- sic of peace will breathe from its every granite pore, awakening responding symphonies in the hearts of a thousand generations. The myriads that recently gathered around that hill, felt all their heart-fibres thrilling within them, when that great man concentrated all the power of his en- chaining eloquence upon the prediction, that in a future age, he who leaned against that monument would thank his God that he, also, was an Ameri- can. Methinks that future ages will disclose a THE PROSPECT OF PEACE. 69 higher destiny for that towering column ; that it will suggest a loftier theme of exultation ! Let me tell the great Webster, and his English coad- jutoi in this conquest of peace, that it will be part of their eternal reward, to have hastened the age when the term " American" shall convey no pre- gative of freedom not enjoyed by every being that wears God's image upon earth ; when not only the American, but the African, when he comes to stand within the peaceful penumbra of that obelisk, shall say, with tears of grateful ex- ultation : "/ thank my God that 1 also, am a m \n — a man !" Elm wood, M 70 LIBERTY CHIMES. THE CONTRAST BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. Thy love thou sontcst oft to me, And still, as oft, I thrust it back ; Thy messengers I could not see In those who every thing did lack, The poor, the outcast, and the black. ii. Pride held his hand before mine eyes, The world with flattery stuffed mine ears ; I looked to see a monarch's guise, Nor dreamed thy love would knock for years. Poor, naked, fettered, full of tears. THE CONTRAST. 7 I III. I ■ ■ , when I sent my love to thee, Thou with a smile didst take it in, And enU-rtain'dst it royally, Though grimed with earth, with hunger thin, And leprous with the taint of sin. IV, Now, i-v.-ry day thy love I : Aa o'ei ill*' earth it wanders wide, With weary step and bleeding feet, Still knocking at the heart of pride And offering grace, though still denied. l'.i mw M M. 72 LIBERTY CHIMES SELF-RELIANCE. BY II. C'LAPP, JR. Axtislavery has no lesson which it teaches so plainly as the great lesson of self -reliance. I do not, of course, mean by self-reliance, that intense egotism which discovers no wisdom beyond the narrow walls of its own mind, and which is there- fore as superficial as it is supercilious, and as in- tolerable as it is intolerant ; — but, rather, and simply, that unfaltering reliance on one's highest convictions and purest instincts, which is supreme- ly indifferent to the evershifting current of popular feeling, while at the same time it sees beneath the earthy incrustations of every soul some spark of the absolute truth. " Unstable as water" must that mind be which SELF-RELIANCE. 73 takes for its pole-star either public opinion, or the opinion of any sect, clique, or individual. It may seem, at first glance, like a becoming humility, to distrust the uncertain light which flickers in one's own soul, and be guided by what seems the fixed ray of some brighter luminary ; — but, depend upon it. such a course pursued continually and implicitly, though it may commence in a healthful diffidence of oin's own powers, will soon degenerate into the most debasing Bervility. By all means call to your aid, in every important matter, all the counsel and advice which you can command; but, as you value your uprightness of soul, and desire to walk in the path of infiniti \ •, do not receive one jot or tit- tle of it as authority. However hallowed by time, or < adeared by association, or deified by superstition, listen to no one as an authority, and be subject to no rule but the clear utterance of your own reason, and the still small voice of your own soul. It is the utter want of this self-reliance wkich keeps many beautiful spirits aloof from the antislavery movement. They cannot but per- ceive, and to some extent appreciate, its claims F 74 LIBERTY CHIMES. upon their attention ; but their moral systems have become so completely unnerved and confused by long, sad years of devotion to sect and au- thority, that they have no confidence in their own judgment, and are frightened by their own footfall and shadow. Seeing that the Genius of Reform is superior to those Creeds and Teachers which they have been accustomed to receive and rever- ence as the exponents and expositors of God's Truth, they feel that every touch of her mighty wand is moral desolation and death. And, in their present servile and abject state well they may ; for the very sight of her makes the walls of their sanctuary tremble, and shrinks their high- priests, who but now bore the seeming of brave and portly men, into pitiful cowards and hideous d warts. Nothing in the history of the world is more striking, or more instructive of good, than the withering effect which this same Genius of Reform has upon the popular religion, and its servile ad- herents. Her approach is more terrible to them than " an army with banners." To their elisor- SELF-RELIAN .1 eyes her white robes are spotted with blood, and her peaceful wand is a flaming sword. They Bee from her as from a pestilence, and at the mention of her name the traitorous blood de- serts their checks, and with livid face, and lurid C things appeal piteously to the rude luce to save their priesthood from d< thi ark of their God/rum desolation. is the hold which the popular relig . m!!v and - we have Been it to • — ipon the thoughtless multitude, they dare not itep without the consent of its authori- who have the good sense to perceive that any ;> — unless it lie a step backward — will ital to it- existence. And bo the people hold back, despite their inmost convictions, from .ward movement, and throw all th .n its way which, with their remaining c they dare in V • .'. i to me that it only needs lot of the community to do their own thinking in order to remedy this state of thing-, and - an immense acce- i the reform 76 LIBERTY CHIMES. And it is equally necessary to continue in this excellent habit (of doing one's own thinking in- stead of having it, like so much sewing " done out") after you have entered those ranks. To this end — if the reader will pardon a little dogmat- ic advice — sign no creeds ; bind yourselves to no constitutions ; choose to yourselves no Kings or Presidents ; submit your judgment to no commit- tees ; engage in no political tactics ; and submit to no parliamentary, congressional, or (for they are all of a piece) constabular discipline. Touch any of these things and you will be defiled. En- gage in any of them, and you will find (if you are a fugitive from church or state) that you have only changed one priesthood for another, — and that while you have been congratulating yourself on a happy escape from the meshes of sect and clique, you are more hopelessly entangled in its cunning web than ever. The only hope of your soul — here or " hereafter" — is the preservation of your individuality,— in other words the mainten- ance of your own soul as a separate, distinct, en- tire existence, subject to no authority and amena- A THOUGHT UPON* EMANCIPATION. < < ijle to no discipline, — save the authority and disci- pline of the divine law as written out and declared the • " oracle within." J a n.v. Mass Yl LIBERTY CHIMES. A THOUGHT UPON EMANCI- PATION . " Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not, Who would be free themselves, must strike the blow ?" The abolitionists during the last twelve years have, by incessant and untiring zeal and labor, accomplished winders. They have spoken loud and long in behalf of human rights, and the whole nation has heard their terrible denunciations against slavery, and their earnest and thrilling appeals for freedom. They have removed the drapery, which while it allowed the " happy" and "contented" features of slavery to be seen, hid the awful enor- mity of the slave system from public view. And now, that system reeking with the blood of its millions of victims, whose bodies have been tortur- ed and whose minds have been ruined — stands ex- A THOUGHT LTON EMANCIPATION. 79 posed to the gaze of the world, in the full broad light of day. But much yet remains to be done, and much that can only be accomplished by the efforts of the race in whose behalf the abolitionists are la- i n s . Who would I ■ I strike the blow." efforts of the abolitionists may possibly re- move the outward forms of bondage. The lash may i: i Longer be raised — the human auction block may no lo: aid in the market place — human flesh no long' >ld like cattle. — But after all — i':i« real freedom of the negro race can never be at- tained except by the unceasing efforts of its mem- Tin •. can never rise in the scale of civiliza- iiccomc artizans — scholars — useful and practi \o their own individual e abolitionists can be of but little help t'> them in the Btruggle for the highest eman- cipation Th ;. can at most but open the door and it i- at the opti 'ii of the colored man to cross its threshold. 80 LIBERTY CHIMES. Even, now, the slave himself need no longer be a slave . Has he the heroism to prefer death to slavery and the system is at an end. Let the terrible determination go forth through all Slavedom, that the slave, will not work — will not eat — will not rise up or lie down at the bidding of an owner and will be free or die, and it is done. To- morrow's sun beholds a nation of freemen indeed. What can the South do against three millions of determinations to die, rather than move another finger as a slave ? Would the lash — would the bayonet avail? Powerless all. Terrible — terrible indeed would be that negation of Slavery, uttered by three millions of victims. Already do we see indications of this spirit in the attempts of large numbers of " property" to walk quietly away from their assumed ownership. And soon may we hope, that the slaves throughout the land will assert their claims to humanity with the omnipotent might of non-resistance and on the very spot of their oppression. C. Providence, R. I. THE SLAVE-WIFE. T II E S LAVE-W IFE. fiV - K. GREEN. Among the numerous facts, which our " pecu- liar Institution" is continually developing — facts, which from the wild daring on the one hand, and the deep malignity on the other, outvie the most extravagant romance, may be found evidence that truth is, indeed, Bt ranger than fiction. The fol- lowing story was related to me by one who well knew the parties ; and 1 give it, nearly as possible. in his ow n words. • I had been," said he, " sojourning for seve- ral weeks at Dawn, Upper Canada, which you well know, was settled by a colony of Fugitive Slaves, rving the regenerating influence of a free at- mosphere, which is dady working out a phenome- non more wonderful than the dreaming alchemist 82 LIBERTY CHI3IES. ever imputed to the philosopher's stone — the trans- mutation of chattels into men. These facts stand out against the deep black ground of Slavery, like miracles wrought in lightning, and fraught with an interest strong and deep as the eternal inter- ests of humanity. There are among these people some fine specimens of the race, whom it would do our negro-haters good to know — and many whose fine manly character — ay, and intel- lect also, would put to the blush our traducers of the colored race. Of all these none pleased me bet- ter, or interested me more deeply, than Laco Ray. He was, I think, as fine a specimen of the physi- cal man, as I ever knew. Tall, muscular, and every way well-proportioned, he had the large ex- pansion of chest and shoulders that are seen in the best representations of Hercules. He was quite black, the skin soft and glossy ; but the features had none of the revolting characteristics which are supposed by some to be inseparable from the African visage. On the contrary they were remarkably fine — the nose aquiline — the mouth even handsome — the forehead singularly high and broad. Superadded to this was a noble intellect. THE SLAVE-WIFE 83 i r of language and expression which, ir happier circumstances, might have produc- ed the poet, or the orator, and which under every incumbrance rose at times to the loftiest elo- ce, I had often been astonished at the - exercise of this power : — and the rude among whom we dwelt \\ ] . felt, and quiel to the sway of a master-spirit. Although he had been In Dawns onlv about two ee of in- fluen ng his people — and both for integrity and ability he was highly esteemed. But notwith- standing all this I observed that a deep shadow ■ his heart, and that there was a hich nothing appeared to fill. me more distinct as I knew mm avinced that some very painful circumstance connected with his former hung like a pall above him, darkening the glad . and making bitter the free air he Mined to learn his history from In- o iii the first opportunity that p 34 LIBERTY CHIMES. I had been walking through the fields of various acquaintances, conversing with them as they worked, or listening to the happy song, or the merry whistle that rang out on the clear air of a fine spring morning, when, at about nine o'clock, I leaned over the rude fence that enclosed the field where my friend Laco was at work. He was at the lower end of the lot ; and I stood listening to the native melodies that resounded on every side. There was in this music a fullnes of joy that spoke at once of the consciousness and the love of free- dom ; yet not unmingled_with occasional notes of the sweetest and the deepest pathos, that whis- pered of friends left far behind, yet groping darkly in the land of bondage ; or, may be, it uttered the sadness which belonged to memory — or pic- tured forth shadows which the long-brooding wing of Slavery yet left resting on the free soul. It was infinitely touching ; and I could not listen to it without tears. As Laco drew near, I saw that he was unusually sad and disinclined to talk ; and, after passing the compliments of the morning, he dropped his eyes to the ground, and appeared THE SLAVE-WIFE. 83 quite absorbed with his business of planting. I v/aited, deliberating within myself how I should enter upon the subject, until he had advanced to the end of the row, and stood opposite me. '• Well Laco," I said, extending my hand, as - he was about turning to commence another row, ,( This is a fine morning, but you arc not quite in the spirit of it. You seem unhappy. Has any tiling happened i ?" do. Nothing happen to Laco, now. Nothing now ever happen to him," he re- plied, turning upon inc a look of unutterable sad- •■ Why de you saj that, Laco ? you surely happy now you are free ; and you cannot be ii auty of this lovely morning ! The : inbuilt is Bhining abroad. The birds are Binging. The neighbors are singing. They are ha »py — all are happy. Why should not Laco sing and be happy too :" •• The birds," be answered, " are singing songs Bach one has a mate in his nest ; but Laco is cold and silent. Why then should G 86 LIBERTY CHI3IE3. he sing ? The free are singing the song of lib- erty ; — but the light of Laco's freedom is put out. The sun is shining very bright ; but he never reach here," he added, laying a hand on his breast, and smiling with the expression of one who feels that he has already met the worst. " Massa very good ; but he never make darkness light — he never make the dead live again. It's no use talking, Massa. Laco better work. If he would cat, he must make corn grow. Talking never help him ; M and he turned away, as if re- solved to say nothing more. "Excuse me Laco," I urged, as I sprang over the fence and stood beside him, " I am your friend. Speak to me freely, as to a friend — a brother — and the confidence may relieve you. I see your story is a sad one." " Ah, Massa, so slave story always be. But come to the cabin, Massa ; and Laco will tell you, what he has whispered only in the great ear of night, when God and angels alone are waking. ' ; He threw down his hoe in the furrow and sprang oyer the fence at a single bound. I followed THC SLAVE-WIFE. t}7 a ; and with a few more steps we stood in the log-cabin where he spent the solitary hours of '. A draught of cool milk and water refreshed f on the ground near the rude bench he had offer after a pause of some minutes marked by profound emotion, he l ' 111 hut heart-thrilling story. •■ 1 was raised on th< plantation of J. C , bad a kinder master. At the age of twenty-two I married Clusy Davis, a girl of twenty, Sh • was white. At least no one would suspect that she had any African blood in her *«ins. 1 that the only trace of it was in I. nid they w r 6j and soft, and brilliant, altho py black. 1 believe no one without loving her — <\\r was ?o an 1 kind, and gentle— and no one ever saw her without admiring her beauty — which I may saw the like of, in the fairest lady that ever -hid lened the heart of a free man ; [,v it is ( t'.ii-> d.tv since I laid her in her lonely grave away out there in Maryland; ami ■ but !n • soul is left." 83 LIBERTY CHI3IES. He bowed himself to the ground ; and I knew by the convulsive heavings of his crouching form that he wept bitterly — The unwonted indulgence appeared to relieve him. He arose and went out a few moments ; and when he returned to his seat, all trace of tears had been carefully washed away ; and he resumed his narrative. " I had long been tenderly attached to Clusy. We had loved even from childhood ; and for about three months after marriage we were happy as the birds. Until that time I had thought little, though I had seen much, of the evils of Slavery ; for I had begun io love so early, and this so entirely took up my attention, that I had little time to dwell on the sorrows of my less fortunate compan- ions. I had won the favor and confidence of my master and mistress. I always had enough to eat and drink, and I was well clothed. Upon my marriage I was promoted from the post of er- rand boy, or runner of the plantation, to that of coachman, and as Clusy was the personal attend- ant of her mistress this arrangement added much to our happiness, as we generally traveled togeth- THE SLAVE-WIFE. 89 er. Both parties were mutually pleased with our new relation : and. for a tine, all went on hap- pily. Clusy was a great favorite with her mistress — they bad, indeed, been raised together, and were more like sisters, than mistress and slave. — Our master and mistress woe married about a efore we were ; and they already had a fine little boy, <>f which the young parents were very proud. Our courtship had advanced together. — ^ ear in, and ye ir out, we went in company to the neighboring plantation ofCol. Davis. We shared each other's Bee rets. All our litile love-quarrels — all our hopes, and all our fears, were freely communicated ; and in the warmth and co; dence of mutual friendship, and mutual love, we at ttm b, forgot, \\>- were ra nd slave— forgot tiiat there v. ill" lay between us wide ^•>d deep as that which separate s chattels from men. Clusy anil I were very happy. All our wants were supplied. We were contented in the present, and without care for the future. We considered ourselves tie' most favored of mortals. But how blind was our satisfaction ! We soco o2 90 LIBERTY CHIMES. found that we stood in a false position. What is true can never come out of falsehood — what is right can never come out of wrong. I have known Slavery in its best form; but there is no good in it. "At length I observed that Clusy was getting pale ; and I often found her in tears. I asked her the cause — I urged her to tell me ; but she would dry them instantly, and say that she was not well — or that she was so lonesome she could not help crying when I was gone. I saw that this was mere pretence, and sought in vain for the truth that lay under it : and when, at last, she could no longer hide from me the fact of her unhappi- ness, she resolutely refused to tell the cause. I could find no relief to my anxiety. Strange indis- tinct visions of wrong haunted my bed at night, and my work by day. A new feeling of insecurity came upon me. I felt afraid of I knew not what. A dreamy consciousness of my false position be- gan to present itself; and a vague sense of the horrors of Slavery oppressed me. When I slept it lay upon my breast like a night-mare ; and when I woke it stared at me with the eyes of a THE SLAVE-WIFE. dl fiend, making hideous faces in the dark. It fol- lowed me every where. It looked out from the corners of the road. It mounted the carriage box and sat beside me. This spirit of unrest haunted me forever— a strange intimation of the approach of -nine unknown evil. It seemed to me that spirits were continually whispering words of warning ; and though I did not understand their meaning, I felt tin :r power. In this manner three months more wore heavily away— Clusy all the time get- ting p:il« r.vs I aker, and inure .»ik nt : until, at length, Bhe trembled as I approached her ; and any act of tenderness on my part seemed to terrify her— so that 1 began to lose all pleasure in her society — and at length seldom visited her. '• One holy-day— it was the Fourth of July, I had resolved to go to a carouse, with my fellow . and drown my troubles in whiskey. My master was even more complacent than usual, and frave me a generous allowance of money. He warmlj encouraged my going, as masters always d ,. because whatever sinks the man, secures the slave ; and it Beems he had another reason for 92 LIBERTY CHIMES. wishing me absent. I had already left the planta- tion and set out to join my companions at a small ale-house about half a mile farther, when my pur- pose was arrested in a very singular manner. — While loitering through the meadow, whistling — not so much lor want of thought, as to drown thought, I came accidentally to a large magnolia tree, where I had first met Clusy, when we were both children. I threw myself into the refreshing shadow, when the times past and long forgotten, seemed to rise up before me. There we had of- ten played together in childhood ; and when she came to the great house, to this tree I always ac- companied her ; and here we always parted. — Here, too, she often came to meet me in the long starry evenings, after our work was done. Here she first promised to be mine ; and here, too, my mother blessed us, but a few days before her death ; and I remembered well the hot tears that fell upon my hand, as it was clasped between the bony and shriveled ones of my mother. I thought then that she wept because she was going to die ; but I know now it was a deeper sorrow, that shook THE SLAVE-WIFE. °3 her so fearfully. Here, too, beneath this very tree, we sat. with hand fast locked in hand, on the of our man iage ; and here the minister bless- illed us one. All these things be- wt'.i roe. I lived again in the past; and my spirit returned to its former peace. I ipl »ned roy i of a frolic. I thought only !. ve and Faith once more blossom- in „,-,■ h and L hastened to reach the path which led to the pretty cottage that her loving mis- 39 hud built for her. I ran— I Hew along its windings— and. almost breathless. 1 reached the vinv Bhadow of her porch. I Avould clasp her to my heart, winch was throbbing with but one great ull ; her— for her alone— my love— my wife. 1 would assure her of my love— I would make ul! ,,• ull m . ;■ coldness. I was nearly insane with the violence of my feelings. Oh, God! w hat did I see ! y Master rushed from the cot- tage j drew Dear— his face Hushed— his eyes • rribly bright, As if by the help of a Hash of lightning, 1 saw the truth— Too horrible it is to i of ! 1 had never been jealous of Clusy— 94 LIBERTY CHIMES. why had I not ?— She was beautiful. She was in her master's power. She was in the power of every white man that chose to possess her. She was no longer mine. She was not my wife. And the babe that slept under her bosom— that, too. A thousand devils seemed to possess me ! I rush- ed into the house. She lay there on her couch, pale and almost lifeless. I know not what I did. I know not how long a time had passed. I only remember that Clusy lay stretched upon the floor, and the hot blood that gushed from her mouth and nostrils was wetting my feet, and stood in puddles upon the ground. A horrible thought that I had murdered her took posession of me. I lifted her up and bore her to a neighboring spring. I bath- ed her head— her hands. I drenched her with cold water. For minutes that seemed hours, years, ages, I watched to see whether she would live or die. At length, slowly, and faintly, she opened her eyes ; and the horrid guilt of murder, like a great weight, was lifted from my soul. I wept, I prayed. I covered her hands, her arms, her very feet with kisses. I blessed her with bless- THE SLAVE-WIFE. 95 ings that seemed wrought out of my heart's blood, " She appeared very weak — too weak to utter a sound, though she often strove to do so ; but she feebly pressed my hand ; and when she turn- ed those large, loving, truthful eyes full upon me, looking into B15 vriy soul, I knew that she was guiltless. Whatever others might have done, she had done no wronji. At length 1 became com- pl< telj exhausted. I Bank d >wn beside her, weak and belpl< -- B8 a child ; rnd, side by side, with resting against cheek, we slept together. ( llusy was the first to wake, ' Laco,' she whisper- ed, ' rise, I pray you ! Massa will be very angry, if we are seen here together !' what do you mean :' I cried, starting r.;> in alarm, r yoa are rny wife — my own wife! Did not Massa Minister, himself, say — What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder ? I cannot leave you. for you are ill." " ' O, you must. I shall die, soon, Laco — very boob — and then you will have no more trouble — your baby will never see the light. — It BBS added, in a hollow whisper — 'and I 96 LIBERTY CHIMES. have kept it pure for your sake.' After a short pause she resumed — : 1 believe I must tell you now, Laco— I thought I never should, but I be- lieve I must. I shall never get another chance. Let us go to the woods. I dare not speak here.' She attempted to rise ; but she fell back quite ex- hausted. c Can you carry me ?' she whispered faintly. I took her in my arms and bore her to the wood. She was so light and thin it seemed like carrying a shadow. ' Clusy,' I cried, in ag- ony ; ' how much you must have suffered ! And why — why could I not have known it r' " ' I will tell you ;' she answered, ' but hush and be quick ; ' I piled together a heap of fresh leaves, and laid her gently down. ' Sit down by me now, Laco, and turn your eyes away ; for you must not look at me while I am telling.' " O, I wish some of those fine ladies, who think that the slave woman has no virtue — no delicacy — no sense even of decency — could have seen with what a sweet and shrinking modesty she told the revolting tale ; and when it was finished how she hid her head in my bosom, and wept so piteously! THE SLAVE-WIFE/ 'jt It was a common story, I have since found. Her master was enamored of her beauty. He had sought in vain to win her favor — at first by en- treaty, by presents, and flattery ; then by vio- lence, and the r.io.-t abusive treatment.' ' And why did you not tell me this before, Clusy r' I asked. >: ' O,' said she, looking up in my face, and at the same time clininnn; to me with a convulsive shud- der, ' he said he would kill you, if I ever told ; ami massa very Btrong — massa very cunning — massa very rich. What could poor slave do ? 1 never should dare to tell now, only Lord Jesus Christ came to me last night, in my dreams, and I must. He say poor slave woman come to him presently. There is no selling — there is no buying where the Lord Jesus is; there is no lloggiiin to make poor woman wicked ; no more — ' • ' He surely has not dared to flog you, Clusy !' 1 interrupted. "'Look here,' she answered, with a shudder, 1 see if Clusy tell truth, or no. ' She drew aside from her back the one loose garment, and — O, my God ! that soft white skin was cut up and n 93 LIBERTY CHI3I crossed and seamed in all directions ; and thei were deep ridges, and running sores. And all this she had borne without complaint, for my sake —for the love of virtue— for the inborn love of pu- rity— O, God ! it was hard to look upon, and think I had no power to help her !" He paused, unable for some time to speak far- ther. He shook from head to foot, and bitter groans burst from his heaving bosom. At length he grew calm, and continued. " W< resolved to apply for advice to the minister who had married us. He was a Presbyterian. Mr. and Mrs. C , were members of his church. Clusy and I, also, were baptized members of hi- flock. I bore my wife to the cottage, and hud h« I on the couch ; and having summoned an old wo- man to attend to her, and to inform her mistress ♦hat she was ill, I went in pursuit of the minister. I had the good fortune to find him. 1 told him d • story, in words that seemed to bum me as I ut- tered them. And what do you think he said 5 ! ; . said there was no help — that I must sulmit Think of that, Christians ! a minister of the g Til. "" •• that another n ... iv b< . ,1 i n s i n in call I ' l ■ to < . link oft! :' it. all ; l round, and ■that the shad .,1 ma y and lovely, and d< lie • and virtu t only by ' S nature— although she * and hitter sorrow, ■ Id by hi jter t have ■■ r was an- 100 LIBERTY CHIMES. the very man who had placed on her brow the seal of baptism — who had mocked her with the rite of marriage ! — Think of this, all ye virtuous — all ye pious women of the land ; and if your virtue, your piety, are not a mere sham — are not a damn- ing lie — give speedy help to the thousands of wo- men — all of them your sisters in the bonds of Hu- manity — many of them your sisters in the bonds of Christianity — who are daily prostituted on the altar of slavery ! while the black-hearted, lying Priests, lift up their bloody hands in consecration of the rite !! " Is it strange that I hated religion — that I hat- ed the very form of man? for I came to believe that a devil incarnate had taken possession of it! " I dreaded to communicate this intelligence to Clusy; but she was prepared. When I told her all, a superhuman strength seemed to possess her. The poor, ignorant, weak, and almost dying wo- man, was changed at once into the form of a ser- aph. Her eyes shone with terrible brightness, as she rose up and sat erect on her couch, her long, black silken hair streaming, with a contrast THE SLAVE-WIFE. 101 Host terrifi ■. over her pale features. Her eves were raised Coward heaven; and for some moment ith the spirits that dwell tii' i ! her eyes upon me, with B :id majesty I cannot describe, although . :isl)ed and terrified me; for L thought I h rit. 'Then he is a liar,' ! — • and the Lord I 'hrist never sent him. H i mii Hell; and he will return to Hell agi in. But the inn .11 triumph! God his children!' A radiance not .-cad her features. She sank gently down u - if the hands of ang< had ' I the breath from their fanning pli . — they were watching her, wh meetly, a Ian Yet in her simple faith nely ; for God kept her. • 1 will not, and 1 need not, recount here all the dis{ ps in this affair. Clusy and I were happier than we hid been; since we had - from each other. In the deepest trouble we could kneel down and pray together; and we n 2 102 LIBERTY CHIMES. were not left entirely without comfort, bitter and heavy as the yoke of bondage was. For God drew near unto our souls in the day of trouble; and our good mistress, to whom the whole aflfair became known, not only felt for, but shared our sorrows. I should have told you that on the Sabbath fol- lowing the Fourth of July alluded to, the Rev Mr. Lovegold broke the bread of life, and admin- istered the communion. The seducer, the adul- terer — the tenfold murderer was there, and par- took of the holy feast — not only un rebuked, but with the smiling approbation of his kind pastor. Our master, finding that I had become apprised of his conduct, threw off all disguise, and openly declared that after the birth of her child, Clusy should be his exclusively; threatening, if I made the least opposition, to sell me into Louisiana. To the birth of our child — that event so pleasing to most parents, we looked forward with the most agonizing fears. How we were sustained I know- not; but it really seemed as if an angel had en- tered into the heart of my wife; for what else THE BLAVE-WIF£. IQ-J • ild have supported her ? From day to day she ■ punishments which I cannot repeat— which I daw ■ I think of— with a heroic gentleness ' Buffi 1 all things, but to yield ■ >'n. d with the spirit of a lamb; h'it Bhe i- Bisted with the heart of a lion. ■ It was 1 ,n!y in the month of September, that Mr. ( ' . in atteroptii tort a promise from : hia \\: (asperated h< ' " fusal, that he I the o?< rseer to - on her back, which had never ' n permitt( i - [ n vain pleaded that jht and agitation had made her very ill— that ild not even stand. She was hound to the and while cruel and vulgar men mocked • nii.ni; our is hum! J fad I • all the devils in Hell could not have "» defending h< r. But I had been pur- il a: Borne distance from home, and on ■"I. I found the wretched mother scarcely and tiie dead child lying beside Inc. ( to, 1>1' ( , d .'' were the first ed, that he has taken our babe 104 LIBERTY CHIMES. before she knew what it is to be a slave-wo- man ! !' Think of this, ye wives, whose maternal anguish is alleviated by all that love, and friend- ship, and art, and science, can do ! think if ye would see your own daughters suffer the like ; and inasmuch as ye would not, strive to redeem these, also, from the bitter degradation — the cruel suffer- ing ! "Although extremely weak I found my wife perfectly sane. Her kind mistress had done every thing that could then be done, to promote her safety and comfort. When I arrived she was holding a pale hand of the sufferer between both of hers, and bathing it with her tears. She loved poor Clusy with a sister's love ; but she could do nothing to save her. " Three weeks from that night I escaped with my wife ; for her master had begun to renew his base proposals. I asked her if she dared to un- dertake the journey, in her then weak state. I told her of the blood-hounds, of the rifle shots, of the nameless tortures that would await us, if retak- en ; for Clusy had been kindly dealt with almost THE SLAVE-WIFE. 105 all her life and knew very little of slavery. ' I can die,' she replied ; ' I am ready, and willing ; and I must die soon ; but I cannot live here. That answer deti rmined me. I bore^her in my arms, (hat night, to the heart of a thick swamp ; and, on the cold wet earth we nestled together. There was I)'- terror in the numerous serpents and rep- tiles that crept around, and crawled over us. They were not bo cold, or so venomous, as the heart of the slave-holder. We seldom stirred abroad by day ; but at night we crept from our hiding place, found out the north star, and resum- ed our journey. When she was overcome with fatigue, which often happened, I carried her in my arms; and I really began to hope that the prospect of liberty would be the elixir of life, and completely restore her; but I found that there is no medicine to heal a broken heart. True, she aed, at tunes, much stronger — her eyes grew brighter and brighter everyday; and her fair check was tinged with a deep spot of red; but when we had reached the northern boundary of Maryland, -he cuuld go no farther, 106 LIBERTY CHIMES. i( ' Lay me down,' she whispered. ' It is use- less to strive on. I have panted for freedom. 1 have struggled hard for it ; but I can struggle no longer. Pile me a bed of leaves, and sit down by me ; for I feel that I am dying. There, let the north wind blow upon my cheek, for it is the breath of the free ; and let me look once more upon the bright star we have followed so long. It has been our only friend. Do you think it will shine in heaven, Laco ? Ah, now I hear angels singing songs of freedom ! I shall never sillier any more ; I have no pain — no sorrow. God will send a good spirit to lead you, my husband, into the land of liberty ! O, God, pity and forgive poor Massa ! Oh, Lord ! bless dear, dear Miss- is ! — Is there a cloud upon the moon ? — It is dark — dark. Ah, now a bright light is springing up within me ; and through it I see heaven ! Nev- er mourn for Clusy ! she is free ! free !!' She murmured a few indistinct words of praise and •prayer ; then her lips were still ; and I saw that without a struggle the free soul had departed. '■' In the deep loneliness of a widowed heart I THE SLAVE-WIFE. 1Q7 sat by her till morning, and then by the help of a .small flat stone, but mostly with my hands alone, I hollowed out a grave in the sandy earth. There I buried her. There I sat all day, so absorbed in my sorrow that I knew nothing of the flight of until it was dark again. The melancholy owl came out and mourned with me. It seemed then as if I had companionship — as if an intelligent g had spoken to mo ; ami I. lor tho first time. gave utterance to my urii.-f aloud. At length a whippoorwill came and sat upon the new grave, and Bang h< r plaintive song. I thought the pure spirit spoke to me in the voice of that gentle bird : and then th.- angel of peace.' dropped his wings up- on my weary soul, and I ft her there, sleeping in the lonely woods of Maryland; hut I brought with me a shadow, which no earthly sun can chase away. Tell my he added, as he rose from the ground — • publish it abroad ; for if any woman can hear it without a wish — a determination to labor with all her might to abolish the slavery of woman, " ach her virtue — She is not true — she is not PURE 108 LIBERTY CHIME*. i II E SLAVE-MOTHER l'.Y S. L. L. It comes at length, the twilight dim ; The weary mother sings her hymn Sweetly, hut plaintively. She sings, " I have no hope in earthly things, But only in the King of kings." "Twas a young mother sitting there The mingled hues her features hear Of that poor race to ruin driven, With those to whom the will of Heaven A paler tint of skin has given. She hushed upon her yearning hreast Her loved — her first-horn — into rest ; And parted hack his raven hair. And heavenly hope with earth's despair Was struggling in her tone and air. " My bahj dear, they sold away Thy father to the South to-day ; -MOTHER. 1 ' I i W ..,,11. I I .11 — ' ber little o I • I ' I trife. •HUM r->w ni.irn at I • i iv 1 1 -i morn i Eden born. I r the hut the master drt Tli- rtb, the Heavenj blue Were* ■ the whole thej knew l 110 LIBERTY CHIMES, He entered there ; on the low ground The mother and her habe he found ; He stooped to rouse with sudden shake — Pause, ruffian, pause! for Heaven's dear sake. The dead, the dead wouldst thou awake ? Oh ! what divine, triumphant air Those young and gentle features wear! And the meek babe, no ruffian bold Shall e'er unclasp the tender hold Of those soft arms that thee enfold A mortal plague that season reigned, And many a bondman, long enchained, Found freedom iu their welcome graves; — Lucy and her dear infant craves A place among these happy sla\ es Far off on that clear morning r. kR Friends : \- I * 1 1 « i ii your kind request t<> furnish an >r your Book, I have endcav- ! to ti\ oo some su that might be interest- to your readers ; and my excuse is, that I feel h an all-absorbing interest for the re-union oi the ] Is of the Slave, that I have no place in inv mind hut for that on v. idea When in ' i 1836, I had the high h side in the convention that formed the R. 1 te \ S, Society, and there witnessing the unanimity, zeal, and kindness and Brotherly Love there manifested, giving promise of certain suc- . my heart rejoiced exceedingly. B it where n >w are those Brethren whose hearts mingled like drops of water uniting in one ? why 112 LIBERTY CHIMES. is the good work stayed, and why are those brave hearts chilled ? Why do those Giant arms hang listlessly down and why are those heavenly tem- pered weapons blunted or turned upon their Friends ? Who is the Enemy that has done all this ? Is he not of ourselves ? And why have those loud peans ceased, with which the Libera- erator and Emancipator, once greeted the Tap- pans, Garrison, Birney, Stanton, Rogers, Phelps, Goodell, Stewart, Smith and others? Has the pure gold become dim ? Or are those Editors of too pure eyes to look upon human infirmity with the least degree of allowance ? I do most sincerely wish that all Friends of the Slave would earnestly inquire, why it is, that most of our Anniversaries exhibit the secession, or an open, violent, virulent, attack on some prominent, active and influential abolitionist ; all his faults observed set in a note book, conned and learned to be cast into his teeth. And then let those who are not wholly inflated with the idea of their own infallibility, resolve not to cast the first stone until they are without sin and resolve to refrain from all harsh and pro- A LETTER. 1 ]:} yoking epithets, and cheerfully leave others to choose such means as they think will be most ef- fective to accomplish the object we all so much desire. \ >urs for the Slave And Freedom of Speech, John Browx i2 1 14 LIBERTY CHIMES. LINES WRITTEN IN NOVEM- BER. EY SARAH H. WHITMAN. " All seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the hare branch Of mossy apple tree." — Coleridcjk. Farewell the forest-shade — the twilight grove, The turfy path with fern and flowers inwove, Where through long summer days I wandered far 'Till warned of evening by her "folding-star." — No more I linger by the fountain's play Where arching boughs shut out the sultry ray, Making at noon-tide hours a dewy gloom ; O'er the moist marge where weeds and wild flowers bloom ; "Till from the western sun a glancing flood Of arrowy radiance filled the twilight wood, Glinting athwart each leafy verdant fold, And flecking all the turf with drops of gold. LINES. 1 15 g the wild-bird on the waving hough Where < "in the Bnnnj lea 5 And the wild music of the wandering bee \ • Bilent all — closed La their vesper lay, Borne l>> 1 1 1 * - breeze of Autojnn far away — -till the withered heath I love to ro\<\ The bare brown meadow and the leafless grove — Still love !<• tread the bleak bill's rocky Bide, Where nodding asters wave in purple pride, ( >r from its summit listen to the flow < )f the dark v iming !'n below. Still through tin 1 • opse I -my Where sere and rustling leaves obstruct the way, To find tti pale blossom of the year, That Btrangel} blooms when all is dark and drear — The wild witch hazel, fraught with mystic power To ban, 01 bl< ■ rules the hour. — Then, homeward wending 'neath the dusky vale \\ here winding rills their evening damp-: exhale, — Pause l>\ the dark pool in whose sleeping wave Pale Dian loves her golden locks to lave, In the hushed fountain's heait, serene and cold, Glassing bei glorious image — as of old When first the stole upon Endymion's rest, And Ins young dreams with heavenly beauty blessed. 116 LIBERTY CHIMES. And thou, " stern ruler of the inverted year," Cold, cheerless winter, hath thy wild career No sweet peculiar pleasures for the heart, That can ideal worth to rudest forms impart? When, through thy long dark nights, cold sleet and rain Patter and plash against the frosty pane, Warm curtained from the storm, I love to lie Wakeful, and listening to the lullahye Of fitful winds, that, as they rise and fall, Send hollow murmurs through the echoing hall. Oft by the blazing hearth at eventide, I love to mark the changing shadows glide In flickering motion o'er the umbered wall, Till slumber's honey-dew my senses thrall. Then, while in dreamy consciousness, I lie 'Twixt sleep and waking, fairy fantasie Culls from the golden past a treasured store, And weaves a dream so sweet, hope could not ask for more. In the cold splendor of a frosty night, When blazing stars burn with intenser light Through the blue vault of heaven — when cold and clear The air through which yon tall cliffs rise severe; Or when the shrouded earth in solemn trance LINES. 117 wan moon's melancholy glance, f love to mark eai \ i ! in p ile b idnight si . constant as the night, . till tli -ir <1 irk urn-, from tli ■ fount of light. i B and wi Dorthern sky, — Th3 storied ( tion, like ;i p Fraught with the won ^ h ir > m ,u,l hydras rise, long the Bkies." the hoar b ah e\ er mystic power i e the onperverted hi id ii'-.mt v - to impart .:.• and d Tii it ,u.l th ■ d i\ :u\v ird to keep. Pro II. I. 1 18 LIBERTY CHIMES. From ;: Tlie Ivosmian," an unpublished work. AHMED'S LETTERS. NO. 48. Brother of my soul, Thou well remembcrest that from time to time 1 have spoken to thee on the subject of Texas, and its annexation to these United States — which measure is now said to be inavertible; and only waits the ratification of the next Congress. The stupidity — the stolid indifference of these people in regard to the subject is really astonishing! One would think it should burn itself into every heart, until the whole man became ignited, as with in- consumable fire. But what do I see? A people professedly Republican, with the most sonorous grandiloquence about freedom on their lips, and the most swelling flourishes of patriotism in all AHMED S LETTERS. 119 their writings — the one half, or the small majority, urging and cany ing forward a measure, which is intended to fasten the curse of slavery — slavery, too, of the most revolting character — upon the land, forever; and the other half, or the large minority, without sufficient force to resist the current — which they Beem to take for granted it is impossible to arrest! And this has hcen the condition of things o for months! Impossible! Nought should be con- sider* d impossible, while aught remains to be done! Impossible! — the word should be made ob- solete at such a crisis; and every man should plant himself upon the rights of man, and do bat- therefor, with a firm resolve to conquer, or die in the struggle ! 1- there do Leonidas to throw himself into the gap J Are there no brave three hundred men to follow, and sustain him: Thou wilt remember, my friend, that, after Mexico hail achieved her independence, her first great measure was to manumit her slaves, provid- iiu thai slavery should cease, and forever, through- out her dominions. This noble consistent \\ inch so readily nave to others what she demand- 120 LIBERTY CHIMES, ed for herself, should have secured to her the ad- miration of the living world, as it surely will the ap- plause of posterity. But this only inflamed the avarice of the American slave-holders, many of whom had settled in Texas ; and a conspiracy was immediately set on foot to rend the colony from the parent country. To this end seditions were fomented by a band of swindlers and loafers, who had emigrated from the United States, and who were sustained and encouraged by the slave- power of the country. These continued to import and retain slaves, contrary to the express laws of the Republic ; and, by their wild and lawless character, they overawed the old residents, who were living prosperous and happy, under the gen- tle sway of Mexico. Although the Texan decla- ration of independence falsely asserts to the con- trary, all religions were tolerated by an act of the legislature, the right of trial by jury, in all cases whatsoever, was secured by law ; schools were established ; their lands were given to the peo- ple, and they were exempt from taxation for ten years ; the gentlest, the most generous policy ahmed's letters. 1 £2 1 ever extended to anybody of emigrants, was met with the basest ingratitude. In this way the re- volt commenced ; and though this country was. at that time, and has remained since, under bonds of peace and mutual alliance with Mexico ; yet. in violation of the law of nations — in violation of all good faith — men, money, and arms, were pub- and transported into Texas, to aid the r rmittcd to pass th borders without . or hindrance, under the k and silly pretence that they could not be re- strained. The of Texas was represented as tl of liberty ; and strong appeals to patri ffl with the foulest prejudice and cupiditj made in her behalf, and pub- 1 openly in the public Journals. The Pi dent was known to hold a correspondence with the chief of the conspirators, one of whom, Swart- wout, was hi- very ■particular friend. An army rais< d for the special purpose of convoying a large body of recruits in! i Mexico ; and they had actually received marching orders — but the affair tting abroad, they were retained j 122 LIBERTY CHIMES. An agency was established in New Orlea with full powers to raise and equip a navy, to for- ward supplies to the army, and to accept, and en- courage, the services of volunteers. At this time Mexico had a fleet which commanded the gulf ; but, within three months, four heavily armed schooners were equipped, in full view of the Cus- tom House of New Orleans ; and, in less than four months, every Mexican cruiser was either destroyed, or driven into port : and this loss of the command of the sea, was the main cause of the defeat of Santa Anna — with which the Texans had nothing to do. At this period, transports filled with armed volunteers, were continually leaving New Orleans. Munitions of war were purchased and shipped in the most open manner ; and, at one time, three transports and an armed steam- boat, with five hundred volunteers under the com- mand of Gen. Green, fitted out, and sailed from the Levee, which is directly in front of the Cus- tom House, with the sound of drums, and the Texan colors flying. Simultaneously with these movements, another large army belonging to tlie ahmed's letters. 12.3 United States was despatched into Mexico, osten- sibly with the very friendly intention of protecting w.i.y From the Indians on our frontier; but. lly, to overawe the Mexican, and strengthen the Tes id Sol li< ra ; and this poli f fully Mined, always permitting American volunteers to pass into 1 the hundred; while no :i. or ; Indian, was allowed to ap- xan army ; and this was their neu- lity ! — Surely the pretext that these facts w< known I '. exceeds in audacity yet no proclamati n I ; and ie> overt, or official act of the Execul intenanced, or, in any way, dis- coura :ed them. Tn ident not only vio- i. v i r.i) 1 ii . I . . ; [ONS, BUT ni> vtii 01' ; and, after all this, in his following Mes- the Chi ' one word of ; but represent d all the relations with Mexj eight and sunny char- ition of Arbuth- t, and A ister, President Jackson says; — 124 LIBERTY CHIMES. ''It is an established principle of the law of nations, that any individual of any nation, making war against the citizens of another nation, they being at peace, forfeits his allegiance, and becomes an outlaw, and a pirate." According to this princi- ple then, the whole array of " Emigrants," and Volunteers, with the Government at their, head, should have been hanged, as outlaws and Pirates ! Tell it not in Algiers, O, my brother ! Publish it not on the hills of Constantine ! how this great Nation has fallen ! — how Slavery walk- cth abroad, or sitteth in high places, clothed in purple, while Freedom is robed in sackcloth, and bowed down to the dust, in sorrow and lamenta- tion ! The proud mock her as they go by ; and the great ones of the land rejoice in her tears ! To this alliance with Texas the whole spirit, and most of the men of the North, were entirely oppo- sed — until, in the electioneering campaign of 1 it was made the test question of a party, and the ba- sis of political action. In the name of Democracy, then, which declares that "all men are created fire and equal, and are by nature endowed with certain ahmed's letters. 1£5 inalienable rights, among which arc life, lib< and the pursuit of happiness," a system is to be sus- tained and perpetuated, which cuts oi\\ at a blow, everv om a — which devours and - o pful rapidity — which annihi no room for happim ss, in the grave — which divests man of his God-like attrib i ives him to the Bh iml ; 9, and makes him a brute — a thing— which tramples under foot ill social and domestic relation — which invades the sanctuary of female virtue, and pronou Tli- ml of Annexation has been I i nd by addressing two of the strong- 1 : :'' - Ifish princi >1< loi r. 01 1 and the love or power. In addition to the im- 31 \\ 'i the wind,- country was flooded with Tex in '• Scrip," or fraudulent land- titles, which would he worth nothing if the M can authority was re-established, hut which would increase in value, if Texas could he allied to this country. So the scrip-holders, like the slave- hold< dent Annexationists; and here ri 126 LIBERTY CHIMES. was the root of their patriotism! Remember that all right of alliance is predicated on the assump- tion that Texas achieved her independence. This she never did. Her battles were fought, and her victories won, by American volunteers! Even at the battle of San Jacinto, there were not twenty native Texans on the field. The true people of Texas were satisfied with the government of Mex- ico, and indisposed to change; and these were so far in a majority in 1843, as to decline a formal proposition of alliance made by this government; and it was only acceded to, upon a direct THREAT OF WAR! Yes, my brother, this self-styled noble and magnanimous government — has crowned her meanness by threatening the fee- ble and infant republic of Texas with war! What an array of facts is here! The Americans inva- ding the territory of Mexico, with whom they were at peace, and taking possession of the country, without the consent, and against the wishes, of a majority even of the people of Texas ! They have overthrown the laws and usurped the dominion of a friendly power — and now a majority of the peo- ahmed's letters. 127 pie at home sustain them in the wrong! What a record for history! Is there no true blood in your veins, that ye blush not, O ye degenerate is of noble fathers! Are these people so lifted up — so swelled out with a mighty pride, that they really have no regard to the opinion of the world — no regard even to the laws which govern the world? Are they so blinded by self-conceit that the} cannot perceive the ridiculous, the despica- ble light in which they appear? Allah is good; tmi I bless thee, O mi Fa i her, that the star of my nativity rose not in the United State-, but in tli<- States of Barbary. Thou wilt remember the several reasons which have been urged by its friends, in favor of the measure, t.> which I have give n due weight in for- mer letters. I have no l< il this time to ^ive them further attention. I will, however, just re- capitulate the heads, for the better present under- standing of the subject: — They are — the danger of Bmuggl i - in tie- south-east — of the occupation of the country by Kng!and — of the escape of South- ern slaves into Mexico — and the advantages to 128 LIBERTY CHIMES. their trade and commerce. The fallacy of all these I have before shown thee. But even if they were valid, are they not founded in sheer policy? and how can they stand against a question of ab- solute right? As well might we possess ourselves of our neighbor's purse, because it is convenient, or agreeable to do so — because we may make our- selves^ richer or stronger by so doing. Wrong, by being extended from the individual to the mass — to the nation— does not lose its character. It is still wrong; and though it multiply itself intp a thousand hydras, yet every single head will be held accountable; and, in proportion to its power of persuading others, will be found guilty. Let no man seek to hide himself under his neighbor's fault, nor under the shadow of the general wick- edness—though it spread itself forth as the banyan tree— though it stretch itself upward so as to darken heaven — yet the worm that is nourished at its own root shall consume its vitality. It shall wither away, and the lightning of God shall con- sume it. All wrong is temporary. It existeth but for a season. Only Truth and Right are eternal. ETTERS. 129 1 should here allude to the dissimulation and of the Annexationists, one party of !y recommend it as a pro-slavery m ther as an anti-slavery measure, — both being between th to use .i'iv means, and tell any Btory, hy which the Norih may he cajoled, and the grand ol ted. ■. Murphy, Chargee of thi Kri at Tex- \plicitly tin thi- A, ; a let- pshur, o M -he :i'l i.iir (ill I iV^B-; the North. Talk about civil, political, and relig- ions liberty; that will be (he safest issue to gobe* ' world with!" What can be expected of a people who have Buch leaders? and what hope can there be in a nation where polk i is Buperioi rauTH, and parti is paramount to right? But there is one recommendation of the measure which 1 must notice here, since it shows quite clearly how rich tiny are in resources, how strong in rca- Mr. Walker, the slave-holding anti-slavery a!. from Mississippi, Btrongly argues thene- ssity of changing boundari s, hecause the 130 LIBERTY CHIMES. present carves the valley into " a shape actually hideous /" It is too angular. It does not exem- plify Hogarth's line of grace and beauty, and .herefore must be changed. A very excellent rea- son for invading and spoiling one's neighbor! In weighing the advantages of Annexation, I wish thee to bear in mind that the character of the climate on the Gulf of Mexico is such, that a white population, sufficient for its defence, can never be maintained there. The slave population, with all its elements of discord, must always pre- ponderate. To excite such a people to revolt, would probably be the first policy of an invading enemy; and to be prepared against this, would re- quire a stationary force greater than would be necessa*- ry for the defence of the wliole Atlantic coast. What will be gained, then, by the possession of all the dangerous coast of Texas, which is wholly unfit, either for the purposes of commerce or defence? The annexation of Texas became a party meas- ure of the Democrats ; and but few distinguished men among them dared to breast the current of pop- ular action. The spirit in which such opposition ETTfcHS \3i uld be met, was shewn by Mr. Walker, when he declared, that " the wrath of this indignant na- tion, shall roll like lava, in fiery torrents, over the political grayes, of tlio.se who oppose the admission of Texas." Deeply is it to be regretted that a ;hanan, a Woodbury, and a ft, should not have chosen " polith ves" rather than have Lent the influence of th< - to . that even a W< v. ithout an) :v of party bias, should voluntarily have il an indii 1 1 ! The orator of Plymouth Rock, and of Bunker Hill, bowing down ithern Moloch ! Could the pilgrims have ; the Maj il >wer would have turned back, t.» , ber pathwi r those wintry and could the dying heroes of Bunk- i have known it. their spirits, ere they parted for- ever, would have felt a pang keener than death in the conviction that all those rivers of blood \sirr poured out in vain ! 1 have Been hut one Democratic paper which came out against Annexation ; and that is The Independent Democrat, edited by Robert C. Wet- J 32 LIBERTY CHIMES. more. Cherish the name, my friend, for we must expect great things of a man who could, in this country, be his own judge of right — and resist the sway of his party. We see in this fact a hero- ism sufficient for all things. I am happy to add two other names to the above — those of Richard D. Davis, and John P. Hale, the only democratic members of Congress who went against Annexa- tion, at the final vote, in 1845 ! These names are embalmed forever by their true love of liberty. I will now give thee some good sound Northern reasons why Texas should not be annexed, begin- ning with the lowest, or those of a purely econom- ical character. First, then, the United States must liquidate, or assume, the vast national debt of Texas— a debt of $10,000,000. In addition to this, she must become responsible for the pay- ment of the Mexican land claims. Thou wilt re- member that previous to the revolution, Mexico had nearly covered the entire soil of Texas with grants. These grants she will be obliged to make good, although the soil has been covered, again and again, by the forged scrip, which has been ahmed's letters. 133 hawked through this country. To a nation nearly or quite bankrupt this is surely no trifle ; espe- cially when we take into the account all the incal- culable expenses of war, and standing armies for the protection of a wide and weak frontier. This vast amount must be liquidated by taxes drawn mainly from the northern laborer, who is to gain nothing by the accession . but, on the contrary, is actually in danger oflosing his own liberty, and of being reduct d to the condition of a & if. or bond- man. Arc the free laborers of the North prepared tor this : Do they know that the necessity of such a relation as that of master and slave, has been boldly advocated by Calhoun, by M'Duffie, and bj Lamar, the late Governor of Texas These men Burely do not want the will to make the white labon rs Blares ; and when they have made forty-three new slav< las large as that of Massachusetts, who will become guarantie for their want of power ? Then let Northern men remem- ber that in their blind, or guilty acquiescence in a base party measure, they may have sealed their n doom ! Shame on the leaders, who have so K 134 LIBERTY CHIMES. abused their generous confidence — who have so blinded, misled, and corrupted them ! Again, it would increase the elements of internal disorder and jealousy, and sow the seeds of final disunion. The opposing interests, habits, and principles of the North and South, cannot be long reconciled to each other, or stand in juxtaposition without conflict. "When the electioneering ex- citement shall have produced its reaction, the dupes of political sophistry will begin to be indig- nant at the cheat ; and they will come out against it — unless the North is' wholly subdued, and made really an appendage and organ of the South — which cannot be done in one day ; for the North is, in the main, true and staunch. The only difficulty is, that it is kept in such strong ar- mor of dollars and cents, there is no such thing as getting into it. But, in the event alluded to, pub- lic virtue would be undermined, free labor would be degraded, the standard of national morality would be immensely lowered, corruption would lead to weakness — and weakness would soon find the downward steps to final ruin. This is no idle ahmed's letters. j 3 j speculation. There is nothing can long sustain a people, how* vi r rich, or powerful, or enlightened y maybe, if the principle of honor, of integrity, of high heroic virtue be wholly wanting. All his- tory — all ei :e — shows that when the public heart h t, the nation has begun to decay. I belli \ e not that nations, like individual- . must have their limited period of growth, dec and dissolution. If 1 1 ine ill 1 - lould see in this nation fearful signs approaching fate ; but BUch an i< . to the great law which is interwoven in the destiny man. and which binds himtoth* itty of infi- nite pi I me fearful mistakes have been made ; an 1 Nations have been immolat i i 'their accumulated .-ins ; but the present, and the i learn the lessons of i past. Le1 the nation cherish Purity and Jus- tice, and Truth, and it shall live ; for these are eternal. \ it will be made the avenue to future con- quest ami ion. A Nation that has forfeit- ad her good faith can have no character to lose, and 136 LIBERTY CHIMES. piracy on the high seas, may consummate her com s< of domestic, social and international piracy. The subjugation of Mexico, is, even now, openly talk- ed of ; and the rich temples, and golden images of that country, are pointed out by the leaders as stimulants to the cupidity of lawless adventurers. Is this Republic, then, to be not only a nation of slave-breeders, but must it also become a nur- sery of robbers and pirates? — for what better is he than a robber and a pirate, who goes forth to spoil his neighbor, with no higher motive than the love of gain? Is the public virtue to be increased in this way, or the great heart of the nation to be strengthened? Are the scenes of feudal times to he brought up anew, and re-enacted in the heart of this republic, and in the middle of the nine- teenth century? Ajrain; it will involve the country in war; and war has, even now, been declared by Mexico. Sneer not, proud American, but rather remember the Seminole war, where, in spite of your blood- hounds, millions of money, and thousands of hu- man lives, were wasted, to subjugate a handful oi ahmed's letters. 1-37 Indians-— who have never been subdued, even yet! But will the powers of Europe look on quietly, a seethe dismemberment of a Republic? for not onl dismeml but two other b! which Am< rican rapacity is grasping. But a •■ with Mexico will l)c no contemptible affair; Bhe will he in the right, her enemies in the wroi How will these Republicans do battle in behalf of Slavery J They Bh »uld i cold an as the Sphynx, lest the bio •licy of this country is peace. In peace her n • arc to b< ' >ped, character el rated, the basis of her instituti iblished, and her duties to mankind fulfilled. n2 138 LIBERTY CHIMES. Could she but perceive the true end of her be- ing, she would read therein a mission to the Ages, and the Nations — she would see herself destined to be the great exponent of human liberty, shewing the absolute value of man, as man — demonstrat- ing that the hand-laborer and the king, are intrin- sically equal — both standing on the same great lev- el platform of Humanity. This is her peculiar mission ; and for this the Declaration of Indepen- dence is her diploma. But if she is false to her trust — if she becomes corrupt, and wantonly press- es downward to the gulf of irretrievable ruin, how will the less-favored Nations taunt her with bitter mockery ; " Art thou also become weak as we ? art thou become like unto us ! How art thou fal- len from heaven, Oh Lucifer, star of the morning !" Again ; it would give a fatal preponderance to the slave-power, which has long governed this country. Let it be remembered that the South, though far in the minority, has held the reins of the govern- ment, and swayed the destiny of the nation almost the entire period of fifty years. One word will ahxed's letters. 139 lain to thee how this is effected. By a law of the Nation, Slave property is represented in the na- tional councils — that is, five slaves rank equal to three free men of the North — so that a planter bavins one hundred slaves, would be entitled to much weight in the Senate as GO free men of the north. Now when \) aew slave states as large as that of Massachusetts shall have been erected, -hall 1m- a representation of live or bis millions of SI LVes, there will be no longer need of all the bullying, which lias disgraced the Capitol )">i rean past — there will no longer be an enemy to contend with ; for the North must either sink down into rading vassalage, or seek for Freedom in disunion. Again ; it will indefinitely enlarge the boun- daries of slavery, ami tend to make the institution perpetual. This has, indeed, been the great PRINCIPLE which has lain at the base of all south- ern action on the subject —the grand lever which has in >ved all southern influence. This policy bas b< en openly avowed by marly all the great Lead 5rs of the enterprise ; and yet, with the fact 140 LIBERTY CHIMES. of their assertions staring them full in the face. Northern men affect to disbelieve. Do they think these men are fools, that they should struggle, and bully, and wrangle for years, with a concen- tration of zeal which has swallowed up all other interests, unless they well knew why ? General Lamar, late President of Texas, has given us some light on this subject, which we should do well to profit by. He says that, in cases of non- annexation, from the proximity of Mexico, the in- security of negro property would be infinitely in- creased ; and, consequently, the tide of emigra- tion from the southern states would be arrested ; and, at the same time, the influx of emigrants from Europe, which has been conlinuous and great, would vastly increase — and in proportion the anti- slavery spirit would extend itself — until it should become paramount, and then an emancipation act might safely and peaceably be established through the ballot box This he thinks more than probable, and he further sa s that if Texas should abolish slavery, the in iti in could not be sustained in the old and u • states of the South for fifty ahmed's letters. 14! years ! Are Antislavery men deaf to these asser- tions, made by one who knew all the facts in the case — who was acquainted, not only with the lo- calities, but the spirit of the people^? The Gen- eral proceeds to urge Annexation, because it mid give stability to their domestic institutions, anil thereby Bave them forever, from the unpar- alleled calamities <■!" abolition." I know that it is said by -. with Messrs. Jay and Walker at their head, that there will not be a sin- gle -lave tin.' more, i r all this accession of slave territory! but there will, <>n the contrary, be a gradual tendency towards manumission. Are persons aware of the absurdity they are rushing into ': — When did the increased demand tend t" less* n tie- supply ' Do they not know that, bo tar from this, in all commercial rela- tions, the demand always regulates the supply r \ regular trade has long been kept up with Cuba, , which had been imported from Africa; and wlwn this great market is fairly open, and the strength of the South is superadded to their own, will this trade diminish ; will there not, on fearful increase ; M2 LIBERTY CHIMES. And shall not this country be mainly accounta- ble tor all these evils ? — for the desolating wars of conquest which scourge Africa — for the wasting flesh and whitening bones which mark the path of the coffle over the desert, and which we have seen together, and lamented over, O, my friend, with- out ever dreaming that the ultimate destination of the wretched survivors, was this promised land of Liberty ! — will she not be accountable for all the increasing horrors of the middle passage, and for the robbery of uncounted souls of all right in themselves, or in their own bodies ? The destiny of millions is now committed to her hands. If she is false, she plunges the suicidal knife into her own heart ! Can it be too late to act even now ? Can it ever be too late, while aught remains to do ? Were this my country I would go abroad into the streets and highways, through wood, prairie, and wilder- ness, and cry aloud, without ceasing. I would call upon every man who loves liberty — upon every man who loves right — to come out and help me! — Are there not twelve righteous men to save this na- AHMED 'fi LETTERS. 143 tioo r Nay, if there be but one Lot, in God's name, let him come out. I must close this hastily, begging forgiveness for its great length : yet knowing that no question ling Human Rights, can be indifferent to thee — and so I throw it and myself into the arms of thy love. Sakvi-alik. Thine ever, Ahmed El Korah, 114 LIBERTY CHIMES THE GOLDEN BALL, A T A I. E OF FAERIE. Written in the Album of a young friend : BY SARAH H. WHITMAN Chauntcd to the cradle slumbers Of thy childhood, Eleanore, Often hast thou heard the nunihers Of the ancient faerie-lore — Listened to the mythic stories Taught when fancy's charm-ed sway- Filled with visionary glories All thy childhood's golden day In the dull and drear December, Sitting by the hearth-light's gleam * I have sought in vain, dear Eleanore, for this story, among the most approved collections of authentic fairy legends. I feai it will he considered apocryphal by the " New Generation," since I must confess it rests on no better authority than the traditionary lore of the Cabeiri, or the Talmudic legends of the Kabbala. Yel lean vouch for its authenticity, having heard it in my childhood, from an aged relative, to whose maternal ancestors it was related by a lineal descendant of Juliet's Norse, well known to have been connected by marriage with a half sister of Mother Bunch. You will not, therefore, accuse me of staining your fair pages with un- advised 01 trivial fables; but treasure the mythic verse il young heart, and ponder its hidden wisdom. LLL ! I T ' h ! ily, Through the I ■! and w Till I j — How to . with do! J46 LIBERTY CHIMES. Shrined within its charm-ed hollow, Many a mystic virtue lay; Safely might her footsteps follow Wheresoe'er it led the way. Hast not heard, with heart of wonder, How this magic glote of gold, Onward through the rushing thunder Of the stormy torrent rolled? On where boundless forests burning, Scorched the air and scathed the sight. From earth's ghastly features turning Back the dunnest pall of night. Still, on golden axis turning, Onward, onward, still it sped — Si ill the maid, her terrors spuming, Fleetly following as it fled. While the raging waters bore hei Safely o'er their hollow way; And the flame-lights, flashing o'er her, led like stars at break of day. Paled before her virgin honor — Paled before her love and truth — Savage natures, gazing on her, Turned to pity and to ruth. So she passed the burning forest, P 3sed the grinding* iron gate, ite crushed those who lingered and hesitated; while the courageous passed safely through. THE GOLDEN EALT I when dan^.T threatened sorest, Calmly trod the path of fate. Till the night that - I . v more beautiful than day. \ I bei feet bo we ury, Glid< '1 gently on theii way — meadows — Till Ming through. •at the lily bells. ;■ ill itfl 1 tin- air with music thrills. pouring 1 LIBERTY CHIMES. " Thou hast conquered, little stranger, All thy bitter trials past; Days of toil, and nights of danger, Thou hast won the goal at last. Lift me from the running water, Lay me on the grass to d. For I am a fairy's daughter, Doomed within the wave to " 'Till a mortal maid should take me From the liquid element — Henceforth will I ne'er forsake tl And my name is — True Content. Thus, though step-dame Nature c And oppress with cruel thrall. Unto true content shall guide thee, Faith's unerring Golden Bai i :"\ * V- V V 1^ iJ1 v vv ■ *■ . Y * °- > ■:■■ -V a % V-* " ^ //■dr \ 4 o < > 4+ * <-V - .,4 q*. o .'V vf> < o . » - A A.* ^ %. j. » • * V - *> >• • y • o. - I - > < % i>-^ o O 3 *fc. °o ^ •j{fi * O V / *° is:- %. j> *• • * ^ > * J Wo ^v • cV : ^# M2u LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 012 027 490 9