IN TENS' ER, more fervent.STUB' BORN, unyielding; rugged.DEEM, think; imagine.OLD' EN, old; ancient.CLINGS, sticks; adheres closely.GAL' LANT, fine; noble.YAWN' ING, wide-opening.FU' RY, rage; madness.RAVE, rage; become furious.HEC' TIC, habitual; continuous.MEN' TAL, intellectual.WIELD, sway; exert.PRIV' I LEGE, right; opportunity.DOW' ER, gift; portion.
[Footnote: These lines were suggested by the simple incident of an industrious wood-sawyer's reply to a man who told him thathis was a hard work. "Yes, it is hard, to be sure; butit is harder to do nothing," was his answer.]
CAROLINE F. ORNE.
1. Ho, ye who at the anvil toil, And strike the sounding blow, Where, from the burning iron's breast, The sparks fly to and fro, While answering to the hammer's ring, And fire's intenser glow!—Oh, while ye feel 'tis hard to toil And sweat the long day through, Remember, it is harder stillTo have no work to do!
2. Ho, ye who till the stubborn soil, Whose hard hands guide the plow, Who bend beneath the summer sun, With burning cheek and brow!—Ye deem the curse still clings to earth From olden time till now; But, while ye feel 'tis hard to toil And labor all day through, Remember, it is harder stillTo have no work to do!
3. Ho, ye who plow the sea's blue field, Who ride the restless wave, Beneath whose gallant vessel's keel There lies a yawning grave, Around whose bark the wint'ry winds Like fiends of fury rave!—Oh, while ye feel 'tis hard to toil And labor long hours through, Remember, it is harder stillTo have no work to do!4 Ho, ye upon whose fevered cheeks The hectic glow is bright, Whose mental toil wears out the day, And half the weary night, Who labor for the souls of men, Champions of truth and right!—Although ye feel your toil is hard, Even with this glorious view, Remember, it is harder stillTo have no work to do!5. Ho, all who labor,—all who strive Ye wield a lofty power; Do with your might, do with your strength, Fill every golden hour! The glorious privilegeto doIs man's most noble dower. Oh, to your birthright and yourselves To your own souls be true! A weary, wretched life is theirs,Who have no work to do!
QUESTIONS.—1. What incident suggested these thoughts to the writer? 2. Who toil at the anvil? 3. Who till the stubborn soil? 4. Who plow the sea's blue wave? 5. Who toil mentally? 6. Who labor for the souls of men? 7. What is man's most noble dower? 8. What is said to all these different laborers? 9. What is the meaning of the suffixlessin the wordrestless?See SANDERS & McELLIGOTT'S ANALYSIS, page 140, Ex. 187.
E LIC' IT, draw forth.IN TEL' LI GENT, knowing; well-informed.RE FRAIN, hold in, or keep back.IG NO RA' MUS, ignorant person.RE TORT', reply; answer back.IN DEL' I BLY, in a way not to be effaced.MYS' TE RIES, profound secrets.AB SORB' ED, engrossed; occupied.MOR TI FI CA' TION, deep disappointment.OB STA CLE, hinderance; impediment.RE VOLT ED, shrank back.POR' ING, earnestly perusing.EM I NENCE, distinction.IN FOR MA' TION, knowledge.IL LIT' ER ATE, ignorant; unlearned.PRO FES' SION, business; employment.DIS' CI PLIN ED trained; instructed.CON TEMPT' U OUS, scornful; hateful.AN TAG' O NIST, opponent; adversary.
1. "How far is it from here to the sun?" asked Harmon Lee of his father's apprentice, James Wallace, intending by the question to elicit some reply that would exhibit the boy's ignorance.
2. James Wallace, a boy of fourteen, turned his bright, intelligent eyes upon the son of his employer, and replied, "I don't know, Harmon. How far is it?"
3. There was something so honest and earnest in the tone of the boy, that, much as Harmon had felt disposed, at first, to sport with his ignorance, he could not refrain from giving him a true answer. Still, his contempt for the ignorant apprentice was not to be concealed, and he replied, "Ninety-five millions of miles, you ignoramus!" James did not retort; but, repeating over in his mind the distance named, fixed it indelibly upon his memory.
4. On the same evening, after he had finished his day's work, he obtained a small text-book on astronomy, which belonged to Harmon Lee, and went up into his garret with a candle, and there, alone, attempted to dive into the mysteries of that sublime science. As he read, the earnestness of his attention fixed nearly every fact upon his mind. So intent was he, that he perceived not the flight of time, until the town-clock struck ten.
5. He lay down upon his hard bed, and gave full scope to his thoughts. Hour after hour passed away, but he could not sleep, so absorbed was he in reviewing the new and wonderful things he had read. At last, wearied nature gave way, and he fell into a slumber, filled with dreams of planets, moons, comets, and fixed stars.
6. The next morning the apprentice boy resumed his place at the work-bench with a new feeling; and, withthisfeeling, was mingled one of regret, that he could not go to school as well as Harmon.
"But I can study at night, while he is asleep," he said to himself.
7. Just then Harmon Lee came into the shop, and, approaching James, said, for the purpose of teasing him, "How big round is the earth, James?"
"Twenty-five thousand miles," was the quick reply.
8. Harmon looked surprised, for a moment, and then responded, with a sneer,—for he was not a kind-hearted boy, but, on the contrary, very selfish, and disposed toinjurerather thando goodto others,—"Oh! how wonderfully wise you are all at once! And no doubt you can tell how many moons Jupiter has? Come, let us hear."
9. "Jupiter has four moons," James answered, with something of exultation in his tone.
"And, no doubt, you can tell how many rings it has?"
"Jupiter has no rings. Saturn has rings, and Jupiter belts," James replied, in a decisive tone.
10. For a moment or two Harmon was silent with surprise and mortification, to think that his father'sapprentice, whom he esteemed so far below him, should be possessed of knowledge equal to his, and on the points in reference to which he had chosen to question him,—and that he should be able to convict him of an error, into which he had purposely fallen.
11. "I should like to know how long it is since you became so wonderfully wise," said Harmon, with a sneer.
"Not very long," James replied calmly. "I have been reading one of your books on astronomy."
12. "I should like to know what businessyouhave to touch one ofmybooks! You had better be minding your work."
"I did not neglect it, Harmon; I read atnight, after I was done with my work; and I did not hurt your book."
"I don't care if youdidn'thurt it. You are not going to havemybooks, I can tell you. So, you just let them alone."
13. Poor James's heart sank within him at this unexpected obstacle, so suddenly thrown in his way. He had no money of his own to buy, and knew of no one from whom he could borrow the book, that had become so necessary to his happiness. "Do, Harmon," he said, "lend me the book; I will take good care of it."
"No; I will not. And don't you dare to touch it," was the angry reply.
14. James Wallace knew well enough the selfish disposition of Harmon, to be convinced that there was now but little hope of his having the use of his books, except by stealth; and from that his naturally open and honest principles revolted. All day he thought earnestly of the means whereby he should be able to obtain a book on astronomy, to quench the ardent thirst he had created in his own mind.
15. He was learning the trade of a blind-maker. Having been already an apprentice for two years, and being industrious and intelligent, he had acquired a readiness with tools, and much skill in some parts of his trade. While sitting alone, after he had finished his work for the day, it occurred to him that he might, by working in the evening, earn some money, and with it buy such books as he wanted.
16. By consent of his employer, he succeeded in getting a small job, from one of his neighbors; and, in a short time, by working evenings, he obtained sufficient money to purchase a book of his own, and had a half dollar left, with which he bought a second-hand dictionary. Every night found him poring over his books; and, as soon as it was light enough in the morning to see, he was up and reading. During the day, his mind was pondering over the things he had read, while his hands were diligently employed in the labor assigned him.
17. It occurred, just at this time, that a number of benevolent individuals established, in the town where James lived, one of those excellent institutions, an Apprentices' Library. To this he applied, and obtained the books he needed. And thus, did this poor apprentice boy lay the foundation of future eminence and usefulness. At the age of twenty-one, he was master of his trade; and, what was more, had laid up a vast amount of general and scientific information.
18. Let us now turn to mark the progress of the young student, Harmon Lee, in one of the best seminaries in his native city, and afterwards at college. The idea that he was to be a lawyer, soon took possession of his mind, and this caused him to feel contempt for other boys, who were merely designed for trades or store-keeping.
19. Like too many others, he had no love for learning. To be alawyerhe thought would be much more honorable than to be a mere mechanic; and, for this reasonalone, he desired to be one. As for James Wallace, the poor illiterate apprentice, he was most heartily despised, and never treated by Harmon with the least degree of kind consideration.
20. At the age of eighteen, Harmon was sent away to one of the eastern universities, and there remained until he was twenty years of age, when he graduated, and came home with the honorary title of Bachelor of Arts. On the very day that James completed his term of apprenticeship, Harmon was admitted to the bar.
21. From some cause, James determined he would make lawhisprofession. To the acquirement of a knowledge of legal matters, therefore, he bent all the energies of a well disciplined mind. Two years passed away in an untiring devotion to the studies he had assigned himself, and he then made application for admission to the bar.
22. Young Wallace passed his examinations with some applause, and the first case on which he was employed, chanced to be one of great difficulty, which required all his skill; the lawyer on the opposite side was Harmon Lee, who entertained for his father's apprentice the utmost contempt.
23. The cause came on. There was a profound silence and a marked attention and interest, when the young stranger arose in the court-room to open the case. A smile of contempt curled the lip of Harmon Lee, but Wallace saw it not. The prominent points of the case were presented in plain, but concise language to the court; and a few remarks bearing upon its merits being made, the young lawyer took his seat, and gave room for the defense.
24. Instantly Harmon Lee was on his feet, and began referring to the points presented by his "very learned brother," in a very flippant manner. There were those present who marked the light that kindled in the eye of Wallace, and the flash that passed over his countenance at the first contemptuous word and tone that were uttered by his antagonist at the bar. These soon gave place to attention, and an air of conscious power. Nearly an hour had passed when Harmon resumed his seat with a look of exultation, which was followed by a pitying and contemptuous smile, as Wallace again slowly rose.
25. Ten minutes, however, had not passed when that smile had changed to a look of surprise, mortification, and alarm. The young lawyer's first speech showed him to be a man of calm, deep, systematic thought,—well skilled in points of law and in authorities,—and, more than all, a lawyer of practical and comprehensive views. When he sat down, no important point in the case had been left untouched, and none that had been touched, required further elucidation.
20. Lee followed briefly, in a vain attempt to torture his language and break down his positions. But he felt that he was contending with weapons whose edges were turned at every blow. When he took his seat again, Wallace merely remarked that he was prepared, without further argument, to submit the case to the court.
27. The case was accordingly submitted, and a decision unhesitatingly made in favor of the plaintiff, or Wallace's client. From that hour James Wallace took his true position.The despised apprentice became the able and profound lawyer,and was esteemed for real talent and real moral worth, which, when combined, ever place their possessor in his true position. Ten years from that day, Wallace was elevated to the bench, while Lee, a second-rate lawyer, never rose above that position.
QUESTIONS.—1. What profession did James study, after he had learned his trade? 2. Who was his opponent in the first cause he tried? 3. Which won the case? 4. What did James finally become?
TAUNT' ING LY, insultingly.DIG' NI FI ED, noble.DIS PU' TANTS, persons disputing.RES O LU' TION, decision.IM AG' IN ED, fancied.RE FLEC' TION, thought; consideration.SU PE RI OR' I TY, preeminence.SUB OR DI NATE, one inferior in position.BUF' FET ED, struggled against.THRALLS, bondage.DES POT' IC, tyrannical.OP PRES' SION, tyranny.PEN' U RY, poverty; destitution.PRED E CES' SORS, those who have gone before.DIS PEN SA' TIONS, dealings.CRI TE' RI ON, standard; measure.
ANON.
1. "Oh, you're a'prentice!" said a little boy, the other day, tauntingly, to his companion. The boy addressed turned proudly round, and, while the fire of injured pride, and the look of pity were strangely blended in his countenance, coolly answered, "So was Franklin!"
2. This dignified reply struck me forcibly, and I turned to mark the disputants more closely. The former, I perceived by his dress, was of a higher class in society than his humble, yet more dignified companion. The latter was a sprightly, active lad, scarce twelve years old, and coarsely, but neatly attired. But, young as he was, there was visible in his countenance much of genius, manly dignity, and determinate resolution; while that of the former showed only fostered pride, and the imagined superiority of riches.
3. That little fellow, thought we, gazing at our young hero, displays already much of the man, though his calling be a humble one; and, though poverty extends to him her dreary, cheerless reality, still he looks on the brightest side of the scene, and already rises in anticipation from poverty and wretchedness! Once, "so was Franklin" and the world may one day witness in our little "'prentice" as great a philosopher as they have already seen in his noble pattern! And we passed on, buried in meditation.
4. The motto of our infantile philosopher contains much,—too much to be forgotten, and should be engraven on the minds of all. What can better cheer man in a humble calling, than the reflection that the greatest and the best of earth—the greatest statesmen, the brightest philosophers, and the proudest warriors—have once graced the same profession?
5."Look at Franklin! He whoWith the thunder talked, as friend to friend,And wove his garland of the lightning's wing,In sportive twist."
What was he? Aprinter!once a subordinate in a printing office! Poverty stared him in the face; but her blank, hollow look, could nothing daunt him. He struggled against a harder current than most are called to encounter; but he did not yield. He pressed manfully onward; bravely buffeted misfortune's billows, and gained the desired haven!
6. Look at Cincinnatus! At the call of his country he laid aside the plow and seized the sword. But having wielded it with success, when his country was no longer endangered, and public affairs needed not his longer stay, "he beat his sword Into a ploughshare," and returned with honest delight to his little farm.
7. Look at Washington! What was his course of life? He was first afarmer;next aCommander in Chiefof the hosts of freedom, fighting for the liberation of his country from the thralls of despotic oppression; next, called to the highest seat of government by his ransomed brethren, aPresident of the largest Republic on earth, and lastly, afarmeragain.
8. What was the famous Ben Jonson? He was first abrick-layer, or mason!What was he in after years? 'Tis needless to answer.
What was Burns? An Ayrshireplowman!What was he in after life, in the estimation of his countrymen, and the world? Your library gives the answer!
9. But shall we go on, and call up, in proud array, all the mighty host of worthies that have lived and died, who were cradled in the lap of penury, and received their first lessons in the school of affliction'? Nay'; we have cited instances enough already,—yea, more than enough to prove the point in question—namely,that there is no profession, however low in the opinion of the world, but has been honored with earth's greatest and worthiest.
10. Young man! Does the iron hand of misfortune press hard upon you, and disappointments well-nigh sink your despairing soul'? Have courage! Mighty ones have been your predecessors, and have withstood the current of opposition that threatened to overwhelm their fragile bark.
11. Do you despise your humble station, and repine that Providence has not placed you in some nobler sphere'? Murmur not against the dispensations of an All-wise Creator! Remember that wealth is no criterion of moral rectitude or intellectual worth,—that riches dishonestly gained, are a lasting curse,—that virtue and uprightness work out a rich reward,—and that
"An honest man's the noblest work of God."
12. And when dark Disappointment comes, do not wither at her stare; but press forward, and the prize is yours! It was thus withFranklin,—it can be thus withyou. He strove for the prize, and he won it! So mayyou!'Tis well worth contending for; and may success attend you, and the "stars" grow brighter, as the "stripes" wear deeper!
QUESTIONS.—1. What did the rich boy say of the poor boy? 2. What reply did the poor boy make? 3. What other examples are cited of eminent men who were once poor? 4. What is said of Cincinnatus? 5. Of Washington? 6. Of Ben Jonson? 7. Of Burns? 8. What do all these examples prove? 9. What encouragement is given to young men? 10. What are the full forms of the wordsyou're, 'prentice?
MAG'IC, power of enchantment.CONTEN'TION, strife; controversy.TRA DI'TION, facts or events handed down from age to age.SUB TILE, thin; slight; slender.IN VEST'ED, clothed.CREST'ED, adorned with a plume or crest.AZ'URE, light-blue; sky-colored.PER SPECT' IVE, (PER,through; SPECT,to see; IVE,having the power,) having the power to see through; a view through.UN DI VERT' ED, (UN,not; DI,aside; VERTED,turned,) not turned aside; unheeded.VEST'URE, garment.SE DATE', calm; quiet.FAN TAS'TIC, fanciful; visionary.RA DI ANCE, brightness; luster.IN VEC'TIVE, railing speech.I DE'AL, imaginary.FA TIGU ING, wearisome, toilsome.AS PIR'ING, aiming; seeking to rise.
JANE TAYLOR.
1. In distant days,—of wild romance,Of magic, mist, and fable,—When stones could argue, trees advance,[Footnote 1]And brutes to talk were able,—When shrubs and flowers were said to preach,And manage all the parts of speech,—2. 'Twasthen, no doubt, if 'twas at all,(But doubts we need not mention,)ThatThenandNow, two adverbs small,Engaged in sharp contention;But how they made each other hear,Tradition doth not make appear.3.Thenwas a sprite of subtile frame,With rainbow tints invested.—On clouds of dazzling light she came,And stars her forehead crested;Her sparkling eyes of azure hue,Seemed borrowed from the distant blue.4.Nowrested on the solid earth,And sober was her vesture;She seldom either grief or mirthExpressed, by word or gesture;Composed, sedate, and firm she stood,And looked industrious, calm, and good.5.Thensang a wild, fantastic song,Light as the gale she flies on,Still stretching, as she sailed along,Toward the far horizon,Where clouds of radiance, fringed with gold,O'er hills of emerald beauty rolled.6.Nowrarely raised her sober eyeTo view that golden distance;Nor let one idle minute flyIn hope ofThen'sassistance;But still with busy hands she stood,Intent on doingpresentgood.7. She ate the sweet, but homely fare,That passing moments brought her;WhileThen, expecting dainties rare,Despised such bread and water;And waited for the fruits and flowersOf future, still receding hours.8.Now, venturing once to ask her why,She answered with invective;And pointed, as she made reply,Toward that long perspectiveOf years to come,—in distant blue,Wherein she meant toliveanddo,9. "Alas!" says she,"how hard you toil!With undiverted sadness;Behold yon land of wine and oil!Those sunny hills of gladness!Those joys I wait, with eager brow,""And so you always will!"saidNow.10. "That fairy land that looks so real,Recedes as you pursue it;Thus, while you wait for time's ideal,I take my work and do it;Intent to form, when time is gone,Apleasant pastto look upon."11. "Ah, well," saidThen, "I envy notYour dull, fatiguing labors,—Aspiring to a brighter lot,With thousands of my neighbors;Soon as I reach that golden hill,"—"But that," saysNow, "younever will!"12. "And e'en suppose you should," said she,"(Though mortal ne'er attained it,)Your nature you must change with me,The moment you have gained it;Since hope fulfilled, (you must allow,)Turns NOW toThen, and THEN toNow."
[Footnote 1: The reference is to Orpheus, (or' fuse,) an ancient poet and musician of Greece. The skill of Orpheus on the lyre, was fabled to have been such as to move the very trees and rocks, and to assemble the beasts around him as he touched its chords.]
QUESTIONS.—1. What two words are represented as holding a controversy? 2. Describe the appearance of each. 3. When didThenpropose to do something? 4. How did Now act? 5. What answer didThenmake, whenNowasked her why she waited? 6. What wasNow'sreply? 7. What didNowfinally say toThen? 8. How should passages, within a parenthesis, be read? See SANDERS' UNION READER, NUMBER THREE, page 20.
IN GEN' IOUS, artful; skillful.STRAT' A GEM, trick; artifice.EX CEED' ED, surpassed.SIG' NALS, signs.AM' I CA BLE, friendly; peaceable.RE PEL', (RE,back; PEL,to drive,)drive back.MU' TU AL, reciprocal.EX TRAOR' DI NA RY, uncommon.IN VET' ER ATE, obstinate; violent.HARANGUE', declamatory speech.EN TER TAIN' ED, held; had.SUS PI' CION, mistrust.EN COUN' TER ED, met face to face.EX' E CU TED, carried out.FOR' MI DA BLE, fearful; dreadful.PER FID' I OUS, treacherous.PRE CIP' ITATELY, headlong.IN AN' I MATE, dead; lifeless.
DAYS OF WASHINGTON.
1. In the early part of the war, a sergeant and twelve armed men undertook a journey through the wilderness, in the State of New Hampshire. Their route was remote from any settlement, and they were under the necessity of encamping over night in the woods. Nothing material happened the first day of their excursion; but, early in the afternoon of the second, they, from an eminence, discovered a body of armed Indians advancing toward them, whose number rather exceeded their own.
2. As soon as the whites were perceived by their red brethren, the latter made signals, and the two parties approached each other in an amicable manner. The Indians appeared to be much gratified with meeting the sergeant and his men, whom, they observed, they considered as their protectors. They said they belonged to a tribe which had raised the hatchet with zeal in the cause of liberty, and were determined to do all in their power to repel the common enemy.
3. They shook hands in friendship. When they had conversed with each other for some time, and exchanged mutual good wishes, they, at length, separated, and each party traveled in a different direction. After proceeding to the distance of a mile or more, the sergeant, who was acquainted with all the different tribes, and knew on which side of the contest they were respectively ranked, halted his men, and addressed them in the following words:
4. "My brave companions, we must use the utmost caution, or this night may be our last. Should we not make some extraordinary exertions to defend ourselves, to-morrow's sun may find us sleeping, never to wake. You are surprised, comrades, at my words, and your anxiety will not be lessened, when I inform you that we have just passedour most inveterate foe, who, under the mask of pretended friendship, which you have witnessed, would lull us to security, and, by such means, in the unguarded moments of our midnight slumber, without resistance, seal our fate."
5. The men with astonishment listened to this short harangue; and their surprise was greater, as not one of them had entertained the suspicion but that they had just encountered friends. They all immediately resolved to enter into some scheme for their mutual preservation, and the destruction of their enemies. By the proposal of their leader, the following plan was adopted and executed.
6. The spot selected for their night's encampment, was near a stream of water, which served to cover their rear. They felled a large tree, before which, on the approach of night, a brilliant fire was lighted. Each individual cut a log of wood, about the size of his body, rolled it nicely in his blanket, placed his hat upon one end, and laid it before the fire, that the enemy might be deceived, and mistake it for a man.
7. After they had thus fitted out logs, equal in number to the sergeant's party, and had so artfully arranged them, that they might be easily mistaken for so many soldiers, the men with loaded muskets placed themselves behind the fallen tree, by which time the shades of evening began to close around. The fire was kept burning brilliantly until late in the evening, when it was suffered to decline.
8. The critical time was now approaching, when an attack might be expected from the Indians; but the sergeant's men rested in their place of concealment with great anxiety, till near midnight, without perceiving any movement of the enemy. At length, a tall Indian was discovered, through the glimmering of the fire, cautiously moving toward them, making no noise, and apparently using every means in his power to conceal himself from any one about the camp.
9. For a time, his actions showed him to be suspicious that a guard might be stationed to watch any unusual appearance, who would give the alarm in case of danger; but, all appearing quiet, he ventured forward more boldly, rested upon his toes, and was distinctly seen to move his finger as he numbered each log of wood, or what he supposed to be a human being quietly enjoying repose.
10. To satisfy himself more fully, as to the number, he counted them over a second time, and cautiously retired. He was succeeded by another Indian, who went through the same movements, and retired in the same manner. Soon after, the whole party, sixteen in number, were discovered approaching, and greedily eyeing their supposed victims.
11. The feelings of the sergeant's men can be better imagined than described, when they saw the base and cruel purpose of their enemies, who were now so near that they could scarcely be restrained from firing upon them. The plan, however, of the sergeant, was to have his men remain silent in their places of concealment, till the muskets of the savages were discharged, that their own fire might be effectual, and opposition less formidable.
12. Their suspense was not of long duration. The Indians, in a body, cautiously approached till within a short distance: they then halted, took deliberate aim, discharged their pieces upon inanimate logs, gave a dreadful war-whoop, and instantly rushed forward, with tomahawk and scalping knife in hand, to dispatch the living, and obtain the scalps of the dead.
13. As soon as they had collected in close order, more effectually to execute their horrid intentions, the sergeant's party discharged their pieces, not on logs of wood, but perfidious savages,—many of whom fell under the hot fire of the little band, and the rest precipitately fled. But for this ingenious scheme, it is probable that not one of these twelve men would have escaped the tomahawk of the savages.
QUESTIONS.—1. What did the sergeant say to his men, after parting with the Indians? 2. What plan did the sergeant propose for their preservation? 3. Did the plan succeed? 4. Describe the closing scene.
VEN' ER A BLE, worthy of reverence.IN VA' SION, irruption; inroad.EX CIT' ED, roused; stirred up.IRE, wrath; indignation.VENGE' ANCE, retaliation.RE LEAS' ED, set free; liberated.TRO PHIES, memorials of victory.BE REFT', deprived.VULT' URE, rapacious bird.TRAV' ERS ED, crossed over.DE SCRIP' TION, representation.MA TER' NAL, motherly.FIL' IAL, becoming a child.CON SAN GUIN' I TY, blood relationship.IN TEL' LI GENCE, news; information.I DEN' TI TY, sameness.SUR VIV' ED, remained alive.AS CER TAIN' ED, found out.IN TER' PRET ER, explainer.LIN' E A MENTS, features.
[Footnote: The great massacre at Wyoming was, perhaps, the most bloody and terrible chapter of the Revolution. A combined Indian and Tory force had flung itself upon the peaceful valley, and murdered or made captive nearly all its unoffending inhabitants; its old and its young,—men, women, and children alike,—were either indiscriminately butchered or made prisoners. Among the prisoners taken on that occasion, was an infant child by the name of Frances Slocum. The story is a very strange one; we copy it from Lossing's very excellent work, "The Field Book of the Revolution."]
B.J. LOSSING.
1. I passed the evening with the venerable Joseph Slocum, whose family was among the sufferers, in Wyoming Valley. He related to me all the particulars of the capture and final discovery of his sister Frances, and other incidents connected with the sufferings of his family.
2. His father was a Quaker, and was distinguished for his kindness to the Indians. He remained unharmed at the time of the invasion, and, while the torch was applied to the dwellings of others,hiswas left untouched. But his son Giles was in the battle. This, doubtless, excited the ire of the Indians, and they resolved on vengeance. 3. Late in the autumn, they were seen prowling about the house, which was situated about one hundred rods from the Wilkesbarre Fort. A neighbor, named Kingsley, had been made prisoner, and his wife and two sons had a welcome home in Mr. Slocum's family. One morning, the boys were grinding a knife near the house, when a rifle-shot and a shriek brought Mrs. Slocum to the door. An Indian was scalping the eldest boy, a lad of fifteen, with the knife he had been grinding.
4. The savage then went into the house, and caught up a little son of Mrs. Slocum. "See!" exclaimed the frightened mother, "he can do thee no good; he is lame." The Indian released the boy, took up her little daughter Frances, aged five years, gently in his arms, and, seizing the younger Kingsley, hastened to the mountains.
5. Two Indians who were with him, carried off a black girl, about seventeen years of age. Mr. Slocum's daughter caught up her brother Joseph, (my informant,) two and a half years old, and fled in safety to the fort, where an alarm was given; but the savages were beyond successful pursuit.
6. About six weeks afterward, Mr. Slocum and his father-in-law Ira Tripp, were shot and scalped by some Indians while foddering cattle near the house. Again the savages escaped with their horrid trophies. Mrs. Slocum, bereft of father, husband, and child, and stripped of all possessions but the house that sheltered her, could not leave the valley, for nine helpless children were yet in her household.
7. She trusted in the God of Elijah; and, if she was not fed by the ravens, she was spared by the vultures. She mourned not for the dead; for they were at rest: but little Frances, her lost darling, where was she? The lamp of hope kept on burning; but years rolled by, and no tidings of the little one came.
8. When peace returned, and friendly intercourse with Canada was established, two of the little captive's brothers started in search of her. They traversed the wilderness to Niagara, offering rewards for her recovery; but all in vain. They returned to Wyoming, convinced that the child was dead. But the mother's heart was still the shrine of hope, and she felt assured that Frances was not in the grave.
9. Her soul appeared to commune with that of her child, and she often said, "I know Frances is still living." At length, the mother's heart was cheered: a woman (for many years had now passed, and Frances, if living, must have arrived to womanhood) was found among the Indians, answering the description of the lost one. She only remembered being carried away from the Susquehanna.
10. Mrs. Slocum took her home, and cherished her with a mother's tenderness. Yet the mysterious link of sympathy which binds the maternal spirit to its offspring, was unfelt, and the bereaved mother was bereaved still. "It may be Frances, but it does not seem so; yet the woman shall ever be welcome," said Mrs. Slocum. The foundling, also, felt no filial yearnings; and, both becoming convinced that no consanguinity existed, the orphan returned to her Indian friends.
11. From time to time, the hope of the mother would be revived, and journeys were made to distant Indian settlements in search of the lost sister; but in vain. The mother went "down into the grave, mourning," and little Frances was almost forgotten. Her brothers had become aged men, and their grandchildren were playing upon the very spot, whence she had been taken.
12. In the summer of 1837, fifty-nine years after her capture, intelligence of Frances was received. Colonel Ewing, an Indian agent and trader, in a letter from Logansport, Indiana, to the editor of theLancaster Intelligencer, gave such information, that all doubts respecting her identity were removed; and Joseph Slocum, with the sister who carried him to the fort, and yet survived, immediately journeyed to Ohio, where they were joined by their younger brother Isaac.
13. They proceeded to Logansport, where they found Mr. Ewing, and ascertained that the woman spoken of by him, lived about twelve miles from the village. She was immediately sent for; and, toward evening the next day, she came into the town, riding a spirited young horse, accompanied by her two daughters, and the husband of one of them,—all dressed in full Indian costume.
14. An interpreter was procured, (for she could not speak or understand English,) and she listened seriously to what her brothers had to say. She answered but little, and, at sunset, departed for her home, promising to return the next morning. The brother and sister were quite sure that it was indeed Frances, though in her face nothing but Indian lineaments were seen, her color alone revealing her origin.
15. True to her appointment, she appeared the following morning, accompanied as before. Mr. Joseph Slocum then mentioned a mark of recognition, which, his mother had said, was a sure test. While playing, one day, with a hammer in a blacksmith's shop, Joseph, then a child two and a half years old, gave Frances a blow upon the middle finger of the left hand, which crushed the bone, and deprived the finger of its nail.
16. This test Mr. Slocum had withheld until others should fail. When he mentioned it, the aged woman was greatly agitated; and, while tears filled the furrows of her face, she held out the wounded finger. There was no longer a doubt, and a scene of great interest ensued. Her affections for her kindred, that had slumbered half a century, were aroused, and she made earnest inquiries after her father, mother, brothers, and sisters. Her full heart—full with the cherished secrets of her history—was opened, and the story of her life freely given.
17. She said the savages, who were Delawares, after taking her to a rocky cave in the mountains, departed to the Indian country. The first night was the unhappiest of her life. She was kindly treated,—being carried tenderly in their arms when she was weary. She was adopted in an Indian family, and brought up as their daughter. For years she lived a roving life, and loved it. She was taught the use of the bow and arrow, and became expert in all the employments of savage existence.
18. When she was grown to womanhood, both her Indian parents died, and she soon afterward married a young chief of the nation, and removed to the Ohio country. She was treated with more respect than the Indian women generally; and so happy was she in her domestic relations, that the chance of being discovered, and compelled to return among the whites, was the greatest evil that she feared; for she had been taught that they were the implacable enemies of the Indians, whom she loved.
19. Her husband died; and, her people having joined the Miamies, she went with them, and married one of that tribe. The last husband was also dead, and she had been a widow many years. Children and grandchildren were around her, and her life was passing pleasantly away. When she concluded the narrative, she lifted her right hand in a solemn manner, and said, "All this is as true as that there is a Great Spirit in the heavens!" she had entirely forgotten her native language, and was a pagan.
20. On the day after the second interview, the brothers and sisters, with the interpreter, rode out to her dwelling. It was a well-built log-house, in the midst of cultivation. A large herd of cattle and sixty horses were grazing in the pasture. Everything betokened plenty and comfort; for she was wealthy, when her wants and her means were compared. Her annuity from government, which she received as one of the Miami tribe, had been saved, and she had about one thousand dollars in specie.
21. Her white friends passed several days very agreeably with her; and subsequently her brother Joseph, with his daughter, the wife of the Hon. Mr. Bennet, of Wyoming, made her another visit, and bade her a last farewell. She died a few years ago, and was buried with considerable pomp; for she was regarded as a queen among her tribe.
QUESTIONS.—1. Where is the Wyoming Valley? 2. Relate the incidents connected with the capture of little Frances. 3. What efforts were made to find her? 4. How many years after her capture before she was found? 5. Where did they find her? 6. By what test did Mr. Slocum prove that she was his sister? 7. What history did she relate of herself? 8. Describe her home.