Thank God for little children!Bright flowers by earth's wayside,—The dancing, joyous life-boatsUpon life's stormy tide.Thank God for little children!When our skies are cold and gray,They come as sunshine to our hearts,And charm our cares away.I almost think the angels,Who tend life's garden fair,Drop down the sweet wild blossomsThat bloom around us here.It seems a breath of heaven"Round many a cradle lies,"And every little babyBrings a message from the skies.The humblest home, with children,Is rich in precious gems;Better than wealth of monarchs,Or golden diadems.Dear mothers, guard these jewelsAs sacred offerings meet,—A wealth of household treasures,To lay at Jesus' feet.
Thank God for little children!Bright flowers by earth's wayside,—The dancing, joyous life-boatsUpon life's stormy tide.
Thank God for little children!When our skies are cold and gray,They come as sunshine to our hearts,And charm our cares away.
I almost think the angels,Who tend life's garden fair,Drop down the sweet wild blossomsThat bloom around us here.
It seems a breath of heaven"Round many a cradle lies,"And every little babyBrings a message from the skies.
The humblest home, with children,Is rich in precious gems;Better than wealth of monarchs,Or golden diadems.
Dear mothers, guard these jewelsAs sacred offerings meet,—A wealth of household treasures,To lay at Jesus' feet.
BY HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.
A beautiful slave in Kentucky, named Eliza, had a very handsome little boy. One day she overheard her master making a bargain with a slave-trader by the name of Haley to sell them both. She made her escape that night, taking her child with her. Her mistress, who was much attached to her, and did not want to have her sold, was glad when she heard that Eliza was gone; but her master, who was afraid the trader would think he had helped her off after he had taken the money for her, ordered the horses Bill and Jerry to be brought, and two of his slaves, called Sam and Andy, to go with the slave-trader in pursuit of the fugitive. The way they contrived hownotto overtake Eliza is thus told in "Uncle Tom's Cabin":—
"'Sam! Halloo, Sam!' said Andy. 'Mas'r wants you to cotch Bill and Jerry.'
"'High! what's afoot now?' said Sam.
"'Why I s'pose you don't know that Lizy's cut stick, and clared out, with her young un?'
"'You teach your granny!' replied Sam, with infinite contempt; 'knowed it a heap sooner thanyoudid. This nigger a'n't so green, now.'
"'Wal, anyhow, Mas'r wants Bill and Jerry geared right up; and you and I's to go with Mas'r Haley, to look arter her,' said Andy.
"Sam, who had just been contriving how he could makehimself of importance on the plantation, exclaimed: 'Good, now! dat's de time o' day! It's Sam dat's called for in dese yere times.He's de nigger. Mas'r'll see what Sam can do!'
"'Ah, you'd better think twice,' said Andy; 'for Missis don't want her cotched, and she'll be in yer wool.'
"'High! how you know dat?' said Sam, opening his eyes.
"'Heard her say so, my own self, dis blessed mornin', when I bring in Mas'r's shaving-water. She sent me to see why Lizy didn't come to dress her; and when I telled her she was off, she jes ris up, and ses she, "The Lord be praised!" Mas'r he seemed rael mad; and ses he, "Wife, you talk like a fool." But, Lor! she'll bring him to. I knows well enough how that'll be. It's allers best to stand Missis's side the fence, now I tell yer,' said Andy.
"Sam scratched his woolly pate, and gave a hitch to his pantaloons, as he had a habit of doing when his mind was perplexed. 'Der a'n't never no sayin' 'bout no kind o' thing in dis yere world,' said he at last. 'Now I'd a said sartin that Missis would a scoured the varsal world after Lizy.'
"'So she would,' said Andy; 'but can't ye see through a ladder, ye black nigger? Missis don't want dis yer Mas'r Haley to get Lizy's boy; dat's de go. And I 'specs you'd better be making tracks for dem hosses,—mighty sudden too,—for I hearn Missis 'quirin' arter yer; so you've stood foolin' long enough.'
"Sam, upon this, began to bestir himself in earnest, and after a while appeared, bearing down gloriously towards the house, with Bill and Jerry in a full canter. Adroitly throwing himself off before they had any ideaof stopping, he brought them up alongside the horse-post like a tornado. Haley's horse, which was a skittish young colt, winced and bounced, and pulled hard at his halter.
"'Ho! ho!' said Sam, 'skeery, ar ye?' and his black face lighted up with a curious, mischievous gleam. 'I'll fix ye now,' said he.
"There was a large beech-tree overshadowing the place, and the small, sharp, triangular beech-nuts lay scattered thickly on the ground. Sam stroked and patted the colt, and while pretending to adjust the saddle, he slipped under it a sharp little nut, in such a manner that the least weight brought upon the saddle would annoy the nervous animal, without leaving any perceptible wound.
"'Dar, me fix 'em,' said he, rolling his eyes with an approving grin.
"At this moment Mrs. Shelby appeared on the balcony and beckoned to him. 'Why have you been loitering so, Sam?' said she. 'I sent Andy to tell you to hurry.'
"'Bress you, Missis, hosses won't be cotched all in a minit. They done clared out down to the south pasture, and everywhar,' said Sam.
"'Well, Sam,' replied his mistress, 'you are to go with Mr. Haley to show him the road, and help him. Be careful of the horses, Sam. You know Jerry was a little lame last week.Don't ride them too fast.' She spoke the last words in a low voice, and with strong emphasis.
"'Let dis chile alone for dat,' said Sam, rolling up his eyes with a look full of meaning. 'Yes, Missis, I'll look out for de hosses.'
"Sam returned to his stand under the beech-tree, and said to Andy, 'Now, Andy, I wouldn't be 't all surprised if dat ar gen'lman's crittur should gib a fling, by and by, when he comes to be a gettin' up. You know, Andy,critturswilldo such things'; and Sam poked Andy in the side, in a highly suggestive manner.
"'High!' exclaimed Andy, with an air that showed he understood instantly.
"'Yes, you see, Andy, Missis wants to make time,' said Sam; 'dat ar's cl'ar to der most or'nary 'bserver. I jis make a little for her. Now, you see, get all dese yere hosses loose, caperin' permiscus round dis yere lot, and down to de wood dar, and I 'spec Mas'r won't be off in a hurry.'
"Andy grinned.
"'You see, Andy,' said Sam, 'if any such thing should happen as that Mas'r Haley's hossshouldbegin to act contrary, and cut up, you and I jist lets go ofour'nto help him! O yes, we'llhelphim!' And Sam and Andy laid their heads back on their shoulders, and broke into a low, immoderate laugh, snapping their fingers, and flourishing their heels with exquisite delight.
"While they were enjoying themselves in this style, Haley appeared on the verandah. Some cups of very good coffee had somewhat mollified him, and he came out smiling and talking in tolerably restored humor. Sam and Andy clawed for their torn hats, and flew to the horse-posts to be ready to 'help Mas'r.' The brim of Sam's hat was all unbraided, and the slivers of the palm-leaf started apart in every direction, giving it a blazing air of freedom and defiance. The brim had gone entirely from Andy's hat; but he thumped the crown on his head, and looked about well pleased, as if to ask, 'Who says I haven't got a hat?'
"'Well, boys,' said Haley, 'be alive now. We must lose no time.'
"'Not a bit of him, Mas'r,' said Sam, putting Haley'srein into his hand and holding his stirrup, while Andy was untying the other two horses.
"The instant Haley touched the saddle the mettlesome creature bounded from the earth with a sudden spring, that threw his master sprawling some feet off, on the dry, soft turf. With frantic ejaculations Sam made a dive at the reins, but only succeeded in brushing the torn slivers of his hat into the horse's eyes, which by no means tended to allay the confusion of his nerves. With two or three contemptuous snorts he upset Sam, flourished his heels vigorously in the air, and pranced away toward the lower end of the lawn. He was followed by Bill and Jerry, whom Andy had not failed to let loose, according to contract, speeding them off with various direful cries. And now there was a scene of great confusion. Sam and Andy ran and shouted; dogs ran barking here and there; Mike, Mose, Mandy, Fanny, and all the smaller specimens on the place, raced, whooped, shouted, and clapped their hands with outrageous zeal. Haley's fleet horse entered into the spirit of the scene with great gusto. He raced round the lawn, which was half a mile in extent, and seemed to take a mischievous delight in letting his pursuers come within a hand's breadth of him, and then whisking off again with a start and a snort.
"Sam's torn hat was seen everywhere. If there seemed to be the least chance that a horse could be caught, down he bore upon him full tilt, shouting, 'Now for it! Cotch him! cotch him!' in a way that set them all to racing again.
"Haley ran up and down, stamped, cursed, and swore. The master in vain tried to give some directions from the balcony, and the mistress looked from her chamber window and laughed. She had some suspicion that Sam was the cause of all this confusion.
"At last, about twelve o'clock, Sam appeared, mounted on Jerry, leading Haley's horse, reeking with sweat, but with flashing eyes and dilated nostrils, showing that the spirit of freedom had not yet entirely subsided.
"'He's cotched!' exclaimed Sam, triumphantly. 'If it hadn't been for me they might a bust themselves, all on 'em; but I cotched him.'
"'You!' growled Haley. 'If it hadn't been foryou, this never would have happened.'
"'Bress us, Mas'r!' exclaimed Sam; 'when it's me that's been a racin' and chasin' till the swet jist pours off me.'
"'Well, well!' said Haley, 'you've lost me near three hours with your cursed nonsense. Now let's be off, and have no more fooling.'
"'Why, Mas'r,' said Sam, in a deprecating tone, 'I do believe you mean to kill us all clar,—hosses and all. Here we are all jist ready to drop down, and the critturs all in a reek o' sweat. Sure Mas'r won't think of startin' now till arter dinner. Mas'r's hoss wants rubben down. See how he's splashed hisself!—and Jerry limps, too. Don't think Missis would be willing to have us start dis yere way, no how. Bress you, Mas'r, we can ketch up, if we stop. Lizy nebber was no great of a walker.'
"The mistress, who, greatly to her amusement, overheard this conversation from the verandah, now came forward and courteously urged Mr. Haley to stay to dinner, saying that the cook should bring it on the table immediately. All things considered, the slave-trader concluded it was best to do so. As he moved toward the parlor, Sam rolled his eyes after him with unutterable meaning, and gravely led the horses to the stable.
"When he had fairly got beyond the shelter of thebarn, and fastened the horse to a post, he exclaimed, 'Did you see him, Andy?Didyer see him? O Lor', if it warn't as good as a meetin', now, to see him a dancin' and a kickin', and swarin' at us! Didn't I hear him? Swar away, ole fellow! says I to myself. Will you have yer hoss now, or wait till you cotch him? says I.' And Sam and Andy leaned up against the barn, and laughed to their hearts' content.
"'Yer oughter seen how mad he looked when I brought the hoss up. Lor', he'd a killed me if he durs' to; and there I was a standin' as innercent and humble.'
"'Lor', I seed you,' said Andy. 'A'n't you an old hoss, Sam?'
"'Rather 'specs I am,' said Sam. 'Did you see Missus up stars at the winder? I seed her laughin'.'
"'I'm sure I was racin' so I didn't see nothin,' said Andy.
"'Wal, yer see, I'se 'quired a habit o' bobservation,' said Sam. 'It's a very 'portant habit, Andy; and I 'commend yer to be cultivatin' it, now yer young. Bobservation makes all de difference in niggers. Didn't I see what Missis wanted, though she never let on? Dat ar's bobservation, Andy. I 'specs it's what yer may call a faculty. Faculties is different in different peoples; but cultivation of 'em goes a great way.'
"'I guess if I hadn't helped your bobservation dis mornin', yer wouldn't have seen yer way so smart,' said Andy.
"'You's a promisin' chile, Andy, der a'n't no manner o' doubt,' said Sam. 'I think lots of yer, Andy; and I don't feel no ways ashamed to take idees from yer. Let's go up to the house now, Andy. I'll be boun' Missis'll give us an uncommon good bite dis yere time.'"
"The mistress had promised that dinner should be brought on the table in a hurry, and she had given the orders in Haley's hearing. But the servants all seemed to have an impression that Missis would not be disobliged by delay. Aunt Chloe, the cook, went on with her operations in a very leisurely manner. Then it was wonderful what a number of accidents happened. One upset the butter; another tumbled down with the water, and had to go to the spring for more; another spilled the gravy; then Aunt Chloe set about making new gravy, watching it and stirring it with the greatest precision. If reminded that the orders were to hurry, she answered shortly that she 'warn't a going to have raw gravy on the table, to help nobody's catchin's.'
"From time to time there was giggling in the kitchen, when news was brought that 'Mas'r Haley was mighty oneasy, and that he couldn't set in his cheer no ways, but was a walkin' and stalkin' to the winders and through the porch.'
"'Sarves him right!' said Aunt Chloe. 'He'll git wus nor oneasy, one of these days, if he don't mend his ways.'
"At last the dinner was sent in, and the mistress smiled and chatted, and did all she could to make the time pass imperceptibly.
"At two o'clock, Sam and Andy brought the horses up to the posts, apparently greatly refreshed and invigorated by the scamper of the morning. As Haley prepared to mount, he said, 'Your master don't keep no dogs, I s'pose?'
"'Heaps on 'em,' said Sam, triumphantly. 'Thar's Bruno,—he's a roarer; and besides that, 'bout every nigger of us keeps a pup o' some natur' or uther.'
"'But does your master keep any dogs for tracking out niggers?' said Haley.
"Sam knew very well what he meant, but he kept on a look of desperate simplicity. 'Wal,' said he, 'our dogs all smells round considerable sharp. I 'spect they's thekind, though they ha'n't never had nopractice. They's far dogs at most anything though, if you'd get 'em started.' He whistled to Bruno, a great lumbering Newfoundland dog, who came pitching tumultuously toward them.
"'You go hang!' exclaimed Haley, mounting his horse. 'Come, tumble up, now.'
"Sam tumbled up accordingly, contriving to tickle Andy as he did so. This made Andy split out into a laugh, greatly to Haley's indignation, who made a cut at him with his riding-whip. 'I'se 'stonished at yer, Andy,' said Sam, with awful gravity. 'This yere's a seris bisness, Andy. Yer mustn't be a makin' game. This yere a'n't no way to help Mas'r.'
"When they came to the boundaries of the estate, Haley said: 'I shall take the road to the river. I know the way of all of 'em. They always makes tracks for the underground.'
"'Sartin, dat's de idee,' said Sam. 'Mas'r Haley hits de thing right in de middle. Now, der's two roads to de river,—de dirt road and der pike. Which Mas'r mean to take?'
"Andy looked up innocently at Sam, surprised at hearing this new geographical fact; but he instantly confirmed what Sam said.
"'I'd rather be 'clined to 'magine that Lizy'd take der dirt road, bein' it's the least travelled,' said Sam. Though Haley was an old bird, and inclined to be suspiciousof chaff, he was rather brought up by this view of the case. He pondered a moment, and said, 'If yer wasn't both on yer such cussed liars, now!'
"The pensive tone in which this was spoken amused Andy prodigiously. He fell a little behind, and shook so with laughter as to run a great risk of falling from his horse. But Sam's face was immovably composed into the most doleful gravity.
"'Course, Mas'r can do as he'd ruther,' said Sam. 'It's all one to us. When I study 'pon it, I think de straight road is de best.'
"'She would naturally go a lonesome way,' said Haley.
"'I should 'magine so,' said Sam; 'but gals is pecular. Dey nebber does nothin' ye thinks they will; mose gen'lly de contrar; so if yer thinks they've gone one road, it's sartin you'd better go t'other, and then you'll be sure to find 'em. So I think we'd better take de straight road.'
"Haley announced decidedly that he should go the other, and asked when they should come to it.
"'A little piece ahed,' said Sam, giving a wink to Andy. He added gravely, 'I've studded on de matter, and I'm quite clar we ought not to go dat ar way. I nebber been over it no way. It's despit lonesome, and we might lose our way. And now I think on't, I hearn 'em tell dat ar road was all fenced up down by der creek. A'n't it, Andy?'
"Andy wasn't certain; he'd only 'hearn tell' about that road, but had never been over it.
"Haley thought the first mention of the road was involuntary on Sam's part, and that, upon second thoughts, he had lied desperately to dissuade him from taking thatdirection because he was unwilling to implicate Eliza. Therefore he struck briskly into the road, and was followed by Sam and Andy.
"The road in fact had formerly been an old thoroughfare to the river, but after the laying of the new pike it had been abandoned. It was open for about an hour's ride, and after that it was cut across by various farms and fences. Sam knew this perfectly well; indeed, the road had been so long closed that Andy had never heard of it. He therefore rode along with an air of dutiful submission, only groaning occasionally, and saying it was 'desp't rough, and bad for Jerry's foot.'
"'Now, I jest give yer warning, I know yer,' said Haley. 'Yer won't get me to turn off this yere road, with all yer fussin'; so you shet up.'
"'Mas'r will go his own way,' said Sam, with rueful submission, at the same time winking portentously to Andy, whose delight now was very near the explosive point. Sam was in wonderful spirits. He professed to keep a very brisk lookout. At one time he exclaimed that he saw 'a gal's bunnet' on the top of some distant eminence; at another time, he called out to Andy to ask if 'that thar wasn't Lizy down in the holler.' He was always sure to make these exclamations in some rough or craggy part of the road, where the sudden quickening of speed was a special inconvenience to all parties concerned, thus keeping Haley in a state of constant commotion.
"After riding about an hour in this way, the whole party made a precipitate and tumultuous descent into a barn-yard belonging to a large farming establishment. Not a soul was in sight, all the hands being employed in the fields; but as the barn stood square across the road,it was evident that their journey in that direction had reached its end.
"'You rascal!' said Haley; 'you knew all about this.'
"'Didn't Itellyer I knowed, and yer wouldn't believe me?' replied Sam. 'I telled Mas'r 't was all shet up, and fenced up, and I didn't 'spect we could git through. Andy heard me.'
"This was too true to be disputed, and the unlucky man had to pocket his wrath as well as he could. All three faced to the right about, and took up their line of march for the highway."
[The consequence of all these delays was, that they reached the Ohio River only in season to see Eliza and her child get safely on the other side, by jumping from one mass of floating ice to the other.]
"'The gal's got seven devils in her I believe,' said Haley. 'How like a wild-cat she jumped!'
"'Wal, now,' said Sam, scratching his head, 'I hope Mas'r 'scuse us tryin' dat ar road. Don't think I feel spry enough for dat ar, no way'; and Sam gave a hoarse chuckle.
"'Youlaugh!' exclaimed the slave-trader, with a growl.
"'I couldn't help it now, Mas'r,' said Sam, giving way to the long pent-up delight of his soul. 'She looked so curis, a leapin' and springin'; ice a crackin'—and only to hear her! plump! ker chunk! ker splash!' and Sam and Andy laughed till the tears rolled down their cheeks.
"'I'll make yer laugh t'other side yer mouths!' exclaimed the trader, laying about their heads with his riding-whip. Both ducked, and ran shouting up the bank. They were on their horses before he could come up with them.
"With much gravity Sam called out: 'Good evening, Mas'r Haley. Won't want us no longer. I 'spect Missis be anxious 'bout Jerry. Missis wouldn't hear of our ridin' the critturs over Lizy's bridge to-night.' With a poke into Andy's ribs, they started off at full speed, their shouts of laughter coming faintly on the wind.
"Sam was in the highest possible feather. He expressed his exultation by all sorts of howls and ejaculations, and by divers odd motions and contortions of his whole system. Sometimes he would sit backward with his face to the horse's tail; then, with a whoop and a somerset, he would come right side up in his place again; and, drawing on a grave face, he would begin to lecture Andy for laughing and playing the fool. Anon, slapping his sides with his arms, he would burst forth in peals of laughter, that made the old woods ring as they passed. With all these evolutions, he contrived to keep the horses up to the top of their speed, until, between ten and eleven, their heels resounded on the gravel at the end of the balcony.
"His mistress flew to the railings, and called out, 'Is that you, Sam? Where are they?'
"'Mas'r Haley's a restin' at the tavern,' said Sam. 'He's drefful fatigued, Missis.'
"'And Eliza, where is she, Sam?'
"'Wal, Missis, de Lord he persarves his own. Lizy's done gone over the river into 'Hio; as 'markably as if de Lord took her over in a chariot of fire and two hosses.'
"His master, who had followed his wife to the verandah, said, 'Come up here, and tell your mistress what she wants to know.'
"Sam soon appeared at the parlor-door, hat in hand. In answer to their questions, he told his story in livelystyle. 'Dis yere's a providence, and no mistake,' said Sam, piously rolling up his eyes. 'As Missis has allers been instructin' on us, thar's allers instruments ris up to do de Lord's will. Now if it hadn't been for me to-day, Lizy'd been took a dozen times. Warn't it I started off de hosses, dis yere mornin', and kept 'em chasin' till dinner time? And didn't I car Mas'r Haley five miles out of de road dis evening? else he'd a come up with Lizy, as easy as a dog arter a coon. Dese yere's all providences!'
"With as much sternness as he could command under the circumstances, his master said, 'They are a kind of providences that you'll have to be pretty sparing of, Sam. I allow no such practices with gentlemen on my place.'
"Sam stood with the corners of his mouth lowered, in most penitential style. 'Mas'r's quite right,' said he. 'It was ugly on me; thar's no disputin' that ar; and of course Mas'r and Missis wouldn't encourage no such works. I'm sensible ob dat ar. But a poor nigger like me's 'mazin' tempted to act ugly sometimes, when fellers will cut up such shines as dat ar Mas'r Haley. He a'n't no gen'l'man no way. Anybody's been raised as I've been can't help a seein' dat ar.'
"'Well, Sam,' said his mistress, 'as you seem to have a proper sense of your errors, you may go now and tell Aunt Chloe she may get you some of that cold ham that was left of dinner to-day. You and Andy must be hungry.'
"'Missis is a heap too good for us,' said Sam, making his bow with alacrity and departing.
"Having done up his piety and humility, to the satisfaction of the parlor, as he trusted, he clapped his palm-leafon his head with a sort of free-and-easy air, and proceeded to the dominions of Aunt Chloe, with the intention of flourishing largely in the kitchen."
BY L. MARIA CHILD.
[When John Brown went from the jail to the gallows, in Charlestown, Virginia, December 2, 1859, he stooped to kiss a little colored child.]
A winter sunshine, still and bright,The Blue Hills bathed with golden light,And earth was smiling to the sky,When calmly he went forth to die.Infernal passions festered there,Where peaceful Nature looked so fair;And fiercely, in the morning sun,Flashed glitt'ring bayonet and gun.The old man met no friendly eye,When last he looked on earth and sky;But one small child, with timid air,Was gazing on his hoary hair.As that dark brow to his upturned,The tender heart within him yearned;And, fondly stooping o'er her face,He kissed her for her injured race.The little one she knew not whyThat kind old man went forth to die;Nor why, 'mid all that pomp and stir,He stooped to give a kiss toher.But Jesus smiled that sight to see,And said, "He did it untome."The golden harps then sweetly rung,And this the song the angels sung:"Who loves the poor doth love the Lord;Earth cannot dim thy bright reward:We hover o'er yon gallows high,And wait to bear thee to the sky."
A winter sunshine, still and bright,The Blue Hills bathed with golden light,And earth was smiling to the sky,When calmly he went forth to die.
Infernal passions festered there,Where peaceful Nature looked so fair;And fiercely, in the morning sun,Flashed glitt'ring bayonet and gun.
The old man met no friendly eye,When last he looked on earth and sky;But one small child, with timid air,Was gazing on his hoary hair.
As that dark brow to his upturned,The tender heart within him yearned;And, fondly stooping o'er her face,He kissed her for her injured race.
The little one she knew not whyThat kind old man went forth to die;Nor why, 'mid all that pomp and stir,He stooped to give a kiss toher.
But Jesus smiled that sight to see,And said, "He did it untome."The golden harps then sweetly rung,And this the song the angels sung:
"Who loves the poor doth love the Lord;Earth cannot dim thy bright reward:We hover o'er yon gallows high,And wait to bear thee to the sky."
John Brown, on his way to the scaffold, stooped to take up a slave-child. That closing example was the legacy of the dying man to his country. That benediction we must continue and fulfil. In this new order, equality, long postponed, shall become the master-principle of our system, and the very frontispiece of our Constitution.—Hon. Charles Sumner.
Christ told me to remember those in bonds as bound with them; to do toward them as I should wish them to do toward me in similar circumstances. My conscience bade me to do that. Therefore I have no regret for the transaction for which I am condemned. I think I feel as happy as Paul did when he lay in prison. He knew if they killed him it would greatly advance the cause of Christ. That was the reason he rejoiced. On that same ground "I do rejoice, yea, and will rejoice."—John Brown.
BY FRANCES E. W. HARPER.
[Written at Niagara Falls in 1856.]
I have just returned from Canada. I have gazed for the first time upon free land. Would you believe it? the tears sprang to my eyes, and I wept. It was a glorious sight to gaze, for the first time, on the land where a poor slave, flying from our land of boasted liberty, would in a moment find his fetters broken and his shackles loosed. Whatever he was in the land of Washington, in the shadow of Bunker Hill Monument, or even upon Plymouth Rock,herehe becomes "a man and a brother."
I had gazed on Harper's Ferry, or rather the Rock at the Ferry, towering up in simple grandeur, with the gentle Potomac gliding peacefully at its feet; and I felt that it was God's masonry. My soul expanded while gazing on its sublimity. I had heard the ocean singing its wild chorus of sounding waves, and the living chords of my heart thrilled with ecstasy. I have since seen the rainbow-crowned Niagara, girdled with grandeur and robed with glory, chanting the choral hymn of omnipotence; but none of these sights have melted me, as did the first sight of free land.
Towering mountains, lifting their hoary summits to catch the first faint flush of day, when the sunbeams kiss the shadows from morning's drowsy face, may expand and exalt your soul; the first view of the ocean mayfill you with strange delight; the great, the glorious Niagara may hush your spirit with its ceaseless thunder,—it may charm you with its robe of crested spray, and with its rainbow crown: but the land of freedom has a lesson of deeper significance than foaming waves and towering mountains. It carries the heart back to that heroic struggle in Great Britain for the emancipation of the slaves, in which the great heart of the people throbbed for liberty, and the mighty pulse of the nation beat for freedom, till eight hundred thousand men, women, and children in the West Indies arose redeemed from bondage and freed from chains.
BY JAMES MADISON BELL.
Unfurl your banners to the breeze!Let Freedom's tocsin sound amain,Until the islands of the seasRe-echo with the glad refrain!Columbia's free! Columbia's free!Her teeming streets, her vine-clad groves,Are sacred now to Liberty,And God, who every right approves.Thank God, the Capital is free!The slaver's pen, the auction-block,The gory lash of cruelty,No more this nation's pride shall mock;No more, within those ten miles square,Shall men be bought and women sold;Nor infants, sable-hued and fair,Exchanged again for paltry gold.To-day the Capital is free!And free those halls where Adams stoodTo plead for man's humanity,And for a common brotherhood;Where Sumner stood, with massive frame,Whose eloquent philosophyHas clustered round his deathless nameBright laurels for eternity;Where Wilson, Lovejoy, Wade, and Hale,And other lights of equal power,Have stood, like warriors clad in mail,Before the giant of the hour,—Co-workers in a common cause,Laboring for their country's weal,By just enactments, righteous laws,And burning, eloquent appeal.To them we owe and gladly bringThe grateful tributes of our hearts;And while we live to muse and sing,These in our songs shall claim their parts.To-day Columbia's air doth seemMuch purer than in days agone;And now her mighty heart, I deem,Hath lighter grown by marching on.
Unfurl your banners to the breeze!Let Freedom's tocsin sound amain,Until the islands of the seasRe-echo with the glad refrain!Columbia's free! Columbia's free!Her teeming streets, her vine-clad groves,Are sacred now to Liberty,And God, who every right approves.
Thank God, the Capital is free!The slaver's pen, the auction-block,The gory lash of cruelty,No more this nation's pride shall mock;No more, within those ten miles square,Shall men be bought and women sold;Nor infants, sable-hued and fair,Exchanged again for paltry gold.
To-day the Capital is free!And free those halls where Adams stoodTo plead for man's humanity,And for a common brotherhood;Where Sumner stood, with massive frame,Whose eloquent philosophyHas clustered round his deathless nameBright laurels for eternity;
Where Wilson, Lovejoy, Wade, and Hale,And other lights of equal power,Have stood, like warriors clad in mail,Before the giant of the hour,—Co-workers in a common cause,Laboring for their country's weal,By just enactments, righteous laws,And burning, eloquent appeal.
To them we owe and gladly bringThe grateful tributes of our hearts;And while we live to muse and sing,These in our songs shall claim their parts.To-day Columbia's air doth seemMuch purer than in days agone;And now her mighty heart, I deem,Hath lighter grown by marching on.
BY L. MARIA CHILD.
There are three things peculiarly essential to health,—plenty of fresh water, plenty of pure air, and enough of nourishing food.
If possible, the human body should be washed all over every day; but if circumstances render that difficult, the operation should be performed at least two or three times a week. People in general are not aware how important frequent bathing is. The cuticle, or skin, with which the human body is covered, is like fine net-work, or lace. By help of a magnifying-glass, called a microscope, it can be seen that there are a thousand holes in every inch of our skin. In the skin of a middle-sized man there are two millions three hundred and four thousand of these holes, called pores. Those pores are the mouths of exceedingly small vessels made to carry off fluids, which are continually formed in the human body, and need to be continually carried off. This process is going on all the time, whether we are sleeping or waking, hot or cold. When we are cool and at rest, that which passes off is invisible; and because we see no signs of it, and are not sensible of it, it is called insensible perspiration. But in very hot weather, or when we exercise violently, a saltish fluid passes through our pores in great drops, which we call sweat; and because we can see and feel it, it is called sensible perspiration. If the pores of the body are filled up with dust, orany kind of dirt, the fluids cannot pass off through them, as Nature intended; and, being shut up, they become corrupt and produce fevers and bad humors. This is the reason why physicians always advise people to be careful and keep their pores open. In order to do this, dust and dirt should be frequently washed away. Many a fever and many a troublesome sore might be prevented by frequent bathing. Moreover, the skin looks smoother and handsomer when it is washed often. If a pond or river is near by, it is well to swim a few minutes every day or two; if not, the body should be washed with a pail of water and a rag. But it is not safe to go into cold water, or to apply it to the skin, when you are very much heated; nor is it safe to drink much cold water until you get somewhat cool. The best way is to plunge into water when you first get up in the morning, and then rub yourself with a cloth till you feel all of a glow. It takes but a few minutes, and you will feel more vigorous for it all day. Cool water is more healthy to wash in than warm water. It makes a person feel stronger, and it is not attended with any danger of catching cold afterward. But water directly from the well is too chilly; it is better to use it when it has been standing in the house some hours. Garments worn next to the skin, and the sheets in which you sleep, imbibe something of the fluids all the time passing from the body; therefore they should be washed every week. I am aware that, as slaves, you had no beds or sheets; but as free men I hope you will gradually be able to provide yourselves with such comforts. Meanwhile, sleep in the cleanest way that you can; for that is one way to avoid sickness. When the skin is hot and feverish, it does a great deal of good to wipe the face, arms, and legs with a cloth moistened withcool water, changed occasionally. Headache is often cured by placing the feet in cool water a minute or two, and then rubbing them smartly with a dry cloth. Sitting in cool water fifteen or twenty minutes is also a remedy for headache or dizziness. A cut or bruise heals much quicker if it is soaked ten or fifteen minutes in cool water, then wrapped in six or eight folds of wet rag, and covered with a piece of dry cloth. The rag should be moistened again when it gets dry. This simple process subdues the heat and fever of a wound. When the throat is sore, it is an excellent thing to wash the outside freely with cold water the first thing in the morning, and then wipe it very dry. A wet bandage at night, covered with a dry cloth, to keep it from the air, often proves very comforting when the throat is inflamed. Indeed, it is scarcely possible to say too much in favor of using cool water freely, at suitable times.
Fresh air is as important as good water. The lungs of the human body are all the time drawing in air and breathing out air. What we breathe out carries away with it something from our bodies. Therefore it is unhealthy to be in a room with many people, without doors or windows open; for the people draw in all the fresh air, and what they breathe out is more or less corrupted by having passed through their bodies. It is very important to health to have plenty of pure fresh air to breathe. No dirty things, or decaying substances, such as cabbage leaves or mouldy vegetables, or pools of stagnant water, should be allowed to remain anywhere near a dwelling. The pools should be filled up, and the decaying things should be carried away from the house, heaped up and covered with earth to make manure for the garden. If there is not room enough to do that, they shouldbe buried in the ground. Whole families often have fevers from breathing the bad odors that rise from such things. It is morally wrong to indulge in any habits that injure the health or well-being of others. The bed, and the coverings of the bed, should have fresh air let in upon them every day; otherwise, they retain the fluids which are passing from the body all the time. In England, children that worked in large manufactories became pale and sickly and died off fast. When doctors inquired into it, they found that the poor little creatures crept into the same bedclothes week after week, and month after month, without having them washed or aired.
Occasional change in articles of food is healthy, as well as agreeable; but it is injurious to eat a great variety of things at the same meal. There are two good rules, so very simple that everybody, rich or poor, can observe them: First, never indulge yourself in eating what you have found by experience does not agree with you; secondly, when you have eaten enough, do not continue to eat merely because the food tastes good. It is foolish to derange the stomach for a long time to please the palate for a short time.
If you have oppressed feelings in the head, or sour and bitter tastes in the mouth, or a tendency to sickishness, take nothing but bread and water for two or three days, and you will be very likely to save yourself from a fever.
People might spare themselves many a toothache if they would rinse their mouths after every meal, and every night, before going to bed, remove every particle of food from between the teeth, and rinse them thoroughly with water. New toothpicks should be made often, for the sake of cleanliness.
Dirt was a necessity of Slavery; and that is onereason, among many others, why freemen should hate it, and try to put it away from their minds, their persons, and their habitations.
BY FRANCES E. W. HARPER.
It shall flash through coming ages,It shall light the distant years;And eyes now dim with sorrowShall be brighter through their tears.It shall flush the mountain ranges,And the valleys shall grow bright;It shall bathe the hills in radiance,And crown their brows with light.It shall flood with golden splendorAll the huts of Caroline;And the sun-kissed brow of laborWith lustre new shall shine.It shall gild the gloomy prison,Darkened by the nation's crime,Where the dumb and patient millionsWait the better-coming time.By the light that gilds their prisonThey shall see its mouldering key;And the bolts and bars shall vibrateWith the triumphs of the free.Though the morning seemed to lingerO'er the hill-tops far away,Now the shadows bear the promiseOf the quickly coming day.Soon the mists and murky shadowsShall be fringed with crimson light,And the glorious dawn of freedomBreak refulgent on the sight.
It shall flash through coming ages,It shall light the distant years;And eyes now dim with sorrowShall be brighter through their tears.
It shall flush the mountain ranges,And the valleys shall grow bright;It shall bathe the hills in radiance,And crown their brows with light.
It shall flood with golden splendorAll the huts of Caroline;And the sun-kissed brow of laborWith lustre new shall shine.
It shall gild the gloomy prison,Darkened by the nation's crime,Where the dumb and patient millionsWait the better-coming time.
By the light that gilds their prisonThey shall see its mouldering key;And the bolts and bars shall vibrateWith the triumphs of the free.
Though the morning seemed to lingerO'er the hill-tops far away,Now the shadows bear the promiseOf the quickly coming day.
Soon the mists and murky shadowsShall be fringed with crimson light,And the glorious dawn of freedomBreak refulgent on the sight.
BY CHARLOTTE L. FORTEN.
A few days before Christmas we were delighted at receiving a beautiful Christmas Hymn from John G. Whittier, written especially for our children. They learned it very easily, and enjoyed singing it. We showed them the writer's picture, and told them he was a very good friend of theirs, who felt the deepest interest in them, and had written this Hymn expressly for them to sing. This made them very proud and happy.
Early Christmas morning we were wakened by the people knocking at the doors and windows, and shouting "Merry Christmas!" After distributing some little presents among them, we went to the church, which had been decorated with holly, pine, cassena, mistletoe, and thehanging moss, and had a very Christmas-like look. The children of our school assembled there, and we gave them the nice comfortable clothing and the picture-books which had been kindly sent by some Philadelphia ladies. There were at least a hundred and fifty children present. It was very pleasant to see their happy, expectant little faces. To them it was a wonderful Christmas-day, such as they had never dreamed of before. There was cheerful sunshine without, lighting up the beautiful moss drapery of the oaks, and looking in joyously through the open windows; and there were bright faces and glad hearts within.
After the distribution of the gifts, the children were addressed by some of the gentlemen present. Then they sang the following Hymn, which their good friend Whittier had written for them:—