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VOICES

OF

THE TRUE-HEARTED.

No. I.

So loud and long have the multitude chaunted the glory of low pleasures, that the voices of true-hearted men have scarcely been heard in the world's chorus. Now and then, in the interludes of passion, when a holy calm has fallen upon the spirits of all,-when the pestilence has walked at noon-day, or the power of the Most High has been otherwise vividly shown,-Truth and Holiness seemed to bear some sway in the souls and words of men. But again came the old passion:-again the old chaunt arose from city, hillside, and valley-depth; and again the voice of God in the soul, and the voices of true-hearted men were unheeded; or, if some fragments of them were caught, heeded only to be derided by those whose spirits grovelled in the dust, and knew not how glorious was the love and beauty of the Most High.

ONE there was, ages ago, who amid scoffing-loneliness of heart-peril-death-spake out the pure truth as he received it from the Father. His was no wreath of flowers awarded by men to the noblest. And as to him was awarded a crown of thorns,-to those whose voices joined with his for love and truth, in defiance of form-custom-selfishness, like crowns were given; and soldiers who enlisted in works of darkness, Pharisees trailing about long texts on their garments, but not in their hearts,-Sadducees living only for the present,—and the fickle mob, shouted in derision, and spit upon them, and crucified them in not less fearful Golgothas than that of old.

But danger never stifled truth. In all ages some brave men have been raised up, true lovers of God, who lived only in Him, whose only fear was to neglect His will,-men who could bear the taunt calmly, who could joy in the tortures of the Inquisition, who could give up home, and parents, and children, and wife for Truth's sake. These men reasoned and exhorted and rebuked by the way side,—at the social gathering, public feast, and solemn meeting-unawed by the presence of the self-righteous or open scoffer; and wrought their good works, until many hearts beat-not for praise-not for wealth-not for powernot for showy learning, but-for the pure truth spoken by Jesus, and now uttered by God in every spirit willing to heed it.

On, on, on!-The voices grew as time rocked the zephyr into the hurricane. The strong soul poured forth glorious thoughts. Men became habituated to the idea and practice of high truth. The possibility of change for the better was acknowledged. Glory to God rang abroad over the earth-Io Pans, unlike the foul praises that were wont to be offered up.

Some of the words of these lovers of the All-True, or echoes of them, have fallen upon my ear, and stirred up within me such free born thoughts and craving for true purity, that I cannot forbear to scatter them still more widely over the earth. Reader! they are seeds borne upon the untrammeled breezes of thought into every open heart-into thine, if thou wilt. Keep them there, and nurture them. Love them as a maiden loves the sweet flowers that grow beneath her eye,-yea, love them infinitely more-and they shall impart rich fragrance to thy whole nature, and endow thee with strength, not only in the life-giving morning, and quiet moonlight even-time, but in the heat and trial of the day, when not only a truth-loving but truth-acting heart is required of thee to do nobly thy devoir as a man and a Christian.

Joyfully-oh joyfully, let us look forward to the time when the world's chorus shall be battle-cries for the right,-when blood-stained fields, with all their pomp, shall be only heard of as a tale of evil days long gone,-when wealth and birth shall no more be esteemed,-when love shall be pure, not sensual,— when all shall seek their neighbor's good, and the good of all mankind, as they now seek their own. Joyfully let us look forward, and with no craven heart speed the good work.

Philadelphia, 11th mo. 8th, 1844.

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VOICES OF THE TRUE-HEARTED.

EXCELSIOR.

BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!

His brow was sad, his eye beneath
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath!
And like a silver clarion rung

The accents of that unknown tongue,
Excelsior!

In happy homes he saw the light

Of household fires gleam warm and bright: Above, the spectral glaciers shone,

And from his lips escaped a groan,

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Excelsior!

Try not the pass!" the old man said;
"Dark lowers the tempest overhead;
The roaring torrent is deep and wide!"
And loud that clarion voice replied,
Excelsior!

"Oh stay," the maiden said, "and rest
Thy weary head upon this breast!"
A tear stood in his bright blue eye,
But still he answered with a sigh,
Excelsior!

"Beware the pine-tree's withered branch_ Beware the awful avalanche !"

This was the peasant's last good night:
A voice replied, far up the height,
Excelsior!

At break of day, as heavenward
The pious monks of St. Bernard
Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,

A voice cried through the startled air,
Excelsior!

A traveller, by the faithful hound,
Half buried in the snow was found,
Still grasping in his hand of ice
That banner with the strange device,
Excelsior.

There in the twilight cold and gray,
Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay;
And from the sky, serene and far,
A voice fell, like a falling star!
Excelsior!

A PSALM OF LIFE.

BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

Life is real-life is earnest-
And the grave is not its goal,
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act-act in the glorious Present!
Heart within, and God o'er head!
Lives of all great men remind us

We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us

Footsteps on the sands of time.

Footsteps, that perhaps another

Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us then be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate; Stil achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.

REFORM.

A new year of labor has begun in the stillness of winter. In the moral world, however, the fields are ever white for the harvest, and the reaper has only to put in the sickle, and do his part towards the great in-gathering. There are no seasons of repose to the reformer. It is ever, with him, seed-time and harvest. Though the seed he scatters broadcast over the world, is invisible to the unanointed eye, it is still a reality-the only reality-for that seed is truth. It becomes him ever to be ready, with his loins girded, and his seed in his hand, to go abroad, scattering the unseen, but almighty germs of happiness. Much discouragement and disheartening will he meet with from a froward and perverse generation -because they look still for an outward redemption, for an earthly Messiah. The evils of outward condition absorb their sight. They scoff at, and belie, and, it may be, crucify him who would draw them from their physical deliverance, by the mighty

VOICES OF THE TRUE HEARTED.

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leading of great principles. What they do not see | strange infirmity, it is apt to look upon the old errors with their eyes, they cannot receive. Their faith in and sins of the past, as precedents to be followed, the unseen God, is but traditional, and not vital. He rather than as warnings to be shunned. But it will is an unknown God to them as much as he was to yet grow wise, and learn the things that pertain the scoffing Athenians. They do not believe in the unto peace. soul, but in the body. Motion is to them volition -action is thought-meeting-houses are religion state-houses are government. They do not look behind the shows and forms with which the world is filled, and discern the secret principles which they outshadow. This it is that makes the path of the reformer hard. He is misunderstood. His method is not comprehended. The connection between his means and his ends is not perceived—and men say, he hath a devil and is mad. But, still, be hath his reward. The veil is lifted from his eyes, in degree as he is true and worthy, and he sees the secrets of the machinery in the midst of whose operations he lives. He discerns the causes of its disarrangements, and how it is that a Divine contrivance for the happiness of mankind, has become perverted to their misery and wo. He sees that no half measures are of any virtue. False and disturbing principles have been introduced which destroy the harmony of the machine, and make it produce results the opposite of the Inventor's design. Nothing can repair the ruin but the removal of the disturbing forces, and the restoration of the true motive power. To this work he applies himself, and proclaims aloud the error which has obtained, and the remedy for it. He heeds not the sneers of the faithless, nor the doubts of the timid good. He knows that he has an omnipotent engine in his hands, which, though he may not live to see the day, will rectify the disordered frame of things, and reduce the chaotic scene to order and beauty.

How few there are who truly perceive the omnipotence of a principle! How is the true life concealed by its visible manifestations! And yet can there be anything more apparent than that principles of Truth are all that is conservative and recuperative in the world? And that the dissemination and true reception of these principles. are the only means by which abuses can be reformed? And yet men will look at Presidents, and Congresses, and Courts, for the help which they themselves alone can give themselves. Outward victory-the ascendancy of this or that party-the predomination of this or that sect-is regarded as the sign of reform and of progress. And yet, how continually has disappointment been written on every page of history that has recorded such triumphs! As wise were the fanatic reformers who destroyed miracles of art and of architecture, thinking that thereby they exterminated Popery-or the republican zealots who rifled the sepulchres of St. Denys, and scattered to the winds the ashes of a hundred kings, as an additional bulwark of freedom. It is by slow degrees, and difficult experience, that the world grows wise-for, by a

This has ever been the process of reform, as far as it has yet effected the interests of mankind. A single mind perceives a truth, which had been before hidden from men's eyes-because they would not see it. He that has perceived the truth, states it. The mass of men reject it and him. Perhaps they persecute him to strange cities, or even unto death itself. Whatever be the form in which men revenge themselves upon those who disturb them in their hereditary slumbers, in the particular age in which he lives, he is sure to eudure it. But almost from the very first, there are some minds to which the new truth commends itself, as a newly-discovered part of their own being, and these cluster around the original truth-founder. Perhaps they but imperfectly understand its meaning and the extent of its bearing; but according to their capacity, they are filled with its power. From them the circle widens and widens till it embraces within its ring a sea, or perhaps, an ocean. This was the truth which Christ shadowed forth in the parables of the grain of mustard seed, and of the leaven which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal. And how strong an illustration does his own mission furnish of this growth of reform! Even his disciples, during his life, and even after his death, but imperfectly comprehended his doctrine. And what lies have been extorted from it, from that day to this! What streams of human blood has the Prince of Peace been made to shed! Of what abominations has he not been made the patron and the founder. The world is but little in advance of his contemporaries in the reception of the great truths which he perceived and stated. But still there are some minds which do begin to discern with a perfect vision the laws of the soul, and to recognize their Divine beauty and almighty power. The circumstances of the times are in many respects favorable to their more general reception. The great doctrine of the equality and brotherhood of mankind is now, in this country at least, universally acknowledged, though in but too many instances with lying lips. This great idea is becoming more and more practically familiar to men's minds. Gross physical persecution is almost obsolete. The right of free inquiry and discussion is admitted by almost all lips, though denied by many hearts, and still obstructed by inveterate prejudice, spiritual tyranny, and sometimes by popular violence. The old ideas are losing their hold upon men's minds, and the institutions that stand for them are tottering to their foundations. Men are looking about them for some surer foundation on which to build their hopes, and some will be found ready to embrace the only ground of truth. A state of moral

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VOICES OF THE TRUE-HEARTED.

movement prevails, which is the atmosphere in which reform takes deepest root, and sheds forth its most vigorous branches. These are hopeful days for the reformer. Let him not allow the appointed time to pass by unimproved.

And let not his soul be troubled because his progress seems to be slow. The generation in whose ears he first utters the unwelcome message may refuse to receive it--but how soon it melts away, and another reigns in its stead! At first, it seems almost impossible to produce any impression upon the unbelieving multitudes in the high places and in the low places. But by the gradual, but mighty, process of nature, the world is by degrees filled with new life, and the old passes silently into the sepulchre of the past. The mighty men who seemed to fill up the whole field of vision now, whither will twenty years bear them away? Whence have come the new multitudes which throng this breathing world, that were but just born into time a score of years since? What a change has come over men's minds in the quarter century that has passed over the world since Napoleon shook the scene! With new minds come new ideas and with new ideas, will, in due time, come a new world. What a change will twenty years make in the aspect of the anti-slavery movement, for example, should chattle slavery endure so long! Where will be Webster, and Tyler, and Clay, and Calhoun ? Where will be the troops of honorable and reverend asserters of the divinity and inviolability of the peculiar institution? They will be all gone, and their places will be filled by a race taught in other schools. So with respect to the systems of violence with which the earth is filled. The pillars of these systems will have fallen. Younger minds, pervaded with new views, will succeed them, and by degrees the institutions of socie ty will conform to the changed current of men's minds. Mighty revolutions will be achieved without a blow, and freedom and happiness purchased without the price of bloodshed and misery. The leaven will change the mass of society just as fast and as far as its virtue pervades it. Nothing can retard the progress of this peaceful revolution-for its theatre is the unseen soul. Its battles are there fought and won. It is from thence that its triumphal movements, which are to be seen in the outward world, are projected. In this revolution of thoughts and opinions, we must all needs take a part, whether we will or no. It rests with ourselves to decide whether our part shall be magnanimous or pitiful-whether our efforts shall be directed to spread or retard the coming triumph.

MY PHILOSOPHY. Bright things can never die, E'en though they fadeBeauty and minstrelsy Deathless were made.

What though the summer day
Passes at eve away,

Doth not the moon's soft ray

Silence the night?"Bright things can never die," Saith my philosophyPhoebus, though he pass by.

Leaves us his light.

Kind words can never die-
Spoken in jest,

God knows how deep they lie

Stored in the breast; Like childhood's simple rhymes, Said o'er a thousand times, Aye-in all years and climes,

Distant and near.

Kind words can never die,"
Saith my philosophy-
Deep in the soul they lie,

God knows how dear.

Childhood can never die-
Wrecks of the past
Float on the memory

E'en to the last.

Many a happy thing-
Many a daisied Spring,

Flown on Time's ceaseless wing,
Far, far away,

"Childhood can never die," Saith my philosophyWrecks of our infancy

Live on for aye.

Sweet fancies never die-
They leave behind
Some fairy legacy

Stored in the mind-
Some happy thought or dream,
Pure as day's earliest beam
Kissing the gentle stream,

In the lone glade. Yet though these things pass by, Saith my philosophy"Bright things can never die, E'en though they fade."

A CHRISTIAN COLONY.

BY LYDIA MARIA CHILD

The highest gifts my soul has received, during its world-pilgrimage, have often been bestowed by those who were poor, both in money and intellectual cultivation. Among these donors, I particularly remember a hard-working, uneducated mechanic, from Indiana or Illinois. He told me that he was one of thirty or forty New Englanders, who, twelve years

VOICES OF THE TRUE-HEARTED.

5

At the end of ten years, the public lands, which they had chosen for their farms, were advertised for sale by auction. According to custom, those who had settled and cultivated the soil, were considered to have a right to bid it in at the government price; which at that time was $1.25 per acre. But the fever of land-speculation then chanced to run unusual

before, had gone out to settle in the western wilder- | overcome with good, till not one was found to do ness. They were mostly neighbors; and had been them wilful injury. drawn to unite together in emigration from a gene- Years passed on, and saw them thriving in worldral unity of opinion on various subjects. For some ly substance, beyond their neighbours, yet beloved years previous, they had been in the habit of meet- by all. From them the lawyer and the constable ing occasionally at each other's houses, to talk over | obtained no fees. The sheriff'stammered and apolotheir duties to God and man, in all simplicity of gized, when he took their hard earned goods in payheart. Their library was the gospel, their priest-ment for the war-tax. They mildly replied, 'Tis hood the inward light. There were then no anti- a bad trade friend. Examine it in the light of conslavery societies; but thus taught, and reverently science and see if it be not so.' But while they rewilling to learn, they had no need of such agency, fused to pay such fees and taxes, they were liberal to discover that it was wicked to enslave. The ef. to a proverb in their contributions for all useful and forts of peace societies had reached this secluded benevolent purposes. band only in broken echoes, and non-resistance societies had no existence. But with the volume of the Prince of Peace, and hearts open to His influence, what need had they of preambles and resolutions? Rich in spiritual culture, this little band started for the far West. Their inward homes were blooming gardens; they made their outward in a wilderThey were industrious and frugal, and allly high. Adventurers from all parts of the country things prospered under their hands. But soon wolves came near the fold, in the shape of reckless, unprincipled adventurers; believers in force and cunning, who acted according to their creed. The colony of practical Christians spoke of their depredations in terms of gentlest remonstrance, and repaid them with unvarying kindness. They went farther-they openly announced, You may do us what evil you choose, we will return nothing but good.' Lawyers came into the neighborhood and offered their services to settle disputes. They answered, We have no need of you. As neighbors, we receive you in the most friendly spirit; but for us, your occupation has ceased to exist.' What will you do, if rascals burn your barns, and steal your harvests?' We will return good for evil. We believe this is the highest truth, and therefore the best expediency.'

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were flocking to the auction; capitalists in Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York and Boston, were sending agents to buy up western lands. No one supposed that custom, or equity, would be regarded. The first day's sale showed that speculation ran to the verge of insanity. Land was eagerly bought in at seventeen, twenty-five and thirty dollars an acre. The Christian colony had small hope of retaining their farms. As first settlers, they had chosen the best land; and persevering industry had brought it into the highest cultivation. Its market value was much greater than the acres already sold at exorbitant prices. In view of those facts, they had prepared their minds for another remove into the wildernees, perhaps to be again ejected by a similar process. But the morning their lot was offered for sale, they observed, with grateful surprise, that their neighbours were everywhere busy among the crowd, begging and expostulating: Don't bid on these lands! These men have been working hard on them for ten years. During all that time they never did harm to man or brute. They are always ready to do good for evil. They are a blessing to any neigh

When the rascals heard this, they considered it a marvellous good joke, and said and did many provoking things, which to them seemed witty. Bars were taken down in the night and cows let into the cornfields. The Christians repaired the damages as well as they could, put the cows in the barn, and at twilight drove them gently home, saying, Neighbourhood. It would be a sin and a shame to bid on

bour, your cows have been in my field. I have fed them well during the day, but I would not keep them all night, lest the children should suffer for their milk.'

If this was fun, they who planned the joke found no heart to laugh at it. By degrees a visible change came over these troublesome neighbors. They ceased to cut off horses' tails, and break the legs of poultry. Rude boys would say to a younger brother, Don't throw that stone Bill! When I killed the chicken last week, didn't they send it to mother, because they thought chicken-broth would be good for poor Mary? I should think you would be ashamed to throw stones at their chickens.' Thus was evil

their lands. Let them go at the government price.

The sale come on; the cultivators of the soil offered $1.25, intending to bid higher if necessary. But among all that crowd of selfish, reckless speculators, not one bid over them! Without an opposing voice, the fair acres returned to them! I do not know a more remarkable instance of evil overcome with good. The wisest political economy lies folded up in the maxims of Christ.

With delighted reverence, I listened to this unlettered backwoodsman, as he explained his philosophy of universal love. What would you do,' said I, if an idle, thieving vagabond came among you, resolv. ed to stay, but determined not to work?' We

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