VOICES OF THE TRUE HEARTED. 3 This has ever been the process of reform, as far 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 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-as 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, he 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 disor-streams of human blood has the Prince of Peace dered frame of things, and reduce the chaotic scene been made to shed! Of what abominations has he to order and beauty. not been made the patron and the founder. The How few there are who truly perceive the omnipo-world is but little in advance of his contemporaries tence of a principle! How is the true life concealed in the reception of the great truths which he perby its visible manifestations! And yet can there ceived and stated. But still there are some minds be anything more apparent than that principles of which do begin to discern with a perfect vision the Truth are all that is conservative and recuperative laws of the soul, and to recognize their Divine beauin the world? And that the dissemination and true ty and almighty power. The circumstances of the reception of these principles, are the only means by times are in many respects favorable to their more which abuses can be reformed? And yet men will general reception. The great doctrine of the equallook at Presidents, and Congresses, and Courts, for ity and brotherhood of mankind is now, in this counthe help which they themselves alone can give try at least, universally acknowledged, though in but themselves. Outward victory-the ascendancy of too many instances with lying lips. This great idea this or that party-the predomination of this or that is becoming more and more practically familiar to sect is regarded as the sign of reform and of pro- men's minds. Gross physical persecution is almost gress. And yet, how continually has disappointment obsolete. The right of free inquiry and discussion been written on every page of history that has is admitted by almost all lips, though denied by recorded such triumphs! As wise were the fanatic many hearts, and still obstructed by inveterate prereformers who destroyed miracles of art and of ar- judice, spiritual tyranny, and sometimes by popular chitecture, thinking that thereby they exterminated violence. The old ideas are losing their hold upon Popery or the republican zealots who rifled the men's minds, and the institutions that stand for them sepulchres of St. Denys, and scattered to the winds are tottering to their foundations. Men are looking the ashes of a hundred kings, as an additional bulwark about them for some surer foundation on which to of freedom. It is by slow degrees, and difficult ex- build their hopes, and some will be found ready to perience, that the world grows wise-for, by a embrace the only ground of truth. A state of moral 4 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 gress seems to be slow. troubled because his proThe 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 Icw 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 society 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. www MY PHILOSOPHY. Bright things can never die, E'en though they fadeBeauty and minstrelsy Deathless were made. VOICES OF THE TRUE-HEARTED. 5 Years passed on, and saw them thriving in world. ly substance, beyond their neighbours, yet beloved by all. From them the lawyer and the constable obtained no fees. The sheriff' stammered and apologized, when he took their hard earned goods in payment for the war-tax. They mildly replied, Tis science and see if it be not so.' But while they refused to pay such fees and taxes, they were liberal to a proverb in their contributions for all useful and benevolent purposes. 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 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 general unity of opinion on various subjects. For some years previous, they had been in the habit of meeting occasionally at each other's houses, to talk over their duties to God and man, in all simplicity of heart. Their library was the gospel, their priesthood the inward light. There were then no anti- | a bad trade friend. Examinė it in the light of conslavery societies; but thus taught, and reverently willing to learn, they had no need of such agency, to discover that it was wicked to enslave. The efforts of peace societies had reached this secluded 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 | to have a right to bid it in at the government price; for the far West. Their inward homes were blooming gardens; they made their outward in a wilderness. They were industrious and frugal, and all 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.' which at that time was $1.25 per acre. But the fever of land-speculation then chanced to run unusually high. Adventurers from all parts of the country 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 proBut 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 cess. 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.' 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. 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 With delighted reverence, I listened to this unletthe chicken last week, didn't they send it to mother, tered backwoodsman, as he explained his philosophy because they thought chicken-broth would be good of universal love. What would you do,' said I, ‹if for poor Mary? I should think you would be asham- an idle, thieving vagabond came among you, resolved to throw stones at their chickens.' Thus was eviled to stay, but determined not to work? We 6 VOICES OF THE TRUE-HEARTED. would give him food when hungry, shelter him [erful and thrilling appeal to his countrymen, when when cold, and always treat him as a brother.' they were on the eve of welcoming back the tyWould not this process attract such characters? ranny and misrule which at the expense of so much How would you avoid being overrun by them?' blood and treasure had been thrown off, can ever Such characters would either reform or not remain forget it? How nobly does liberty speak through with us. We should never speak an angry word, or him. "If," said he, "ye welcome back a monarrefuse to minister to their necessities; but we should chy, it will be the triumph of all tyrants hereafter, invariably regard them with the deepest sadness, as over any people who shall resist oppression, and their we would a guilty, but beloved son. This is harder song shall then be to others, How sped the rebelfor the human soul to bear, than whips or prisons. lious English,' but to our posterity, How sped the They could not stand it; I am sure they could not. rebels, your fathers.'" How solemnly awful is his It would either melt them, or drive them away. In closing paragraph: "What I have spoken, is the nine cases out of ten, I believe it would melt language of that which is not called amiss, The them.' good old cause.' If it seem strange to any, it will not seem more strange I hope, than convincing, to backsliders. This much I should have said, though I were sure I should have spoken only to trees and stones; and had none to cry to but with the prophet, O earth, earth, earth! to tell the very soil itself what its perverse inhabitants are deaf to; nay, though what I have spoken should prove (which The following beautiful poem is from the December Thou suffer not, who didst create mankind free! nor Thou next, who didst redeem us from being servants number of Blackwood's Magazine It is a noble picture of that sublime old man, who, sick, poor, blind, of men !) to be the last words of our expiring liberand abandoned of friends, still held fast his heroic ty." It was the consciousness of having done all in his integrity, rebuking with his unbending republican-power to save his countrymen from the guilt and ism the treachery, and cowardice, and servility of his folly into which they had madly plunged, the answer old associates. He had outlived the hopes and bea- of a good conscience, which sustained him in his old tific visions of his youth; he had seen the loud-age and destitution.-Joshua Leavitt. I felt rebuked for my want of faith, and conse quent shallowness of insight. That hard-handed labourer brought greater riches to my soul than an Eastern merchant laden with pearls. Again I repeat, money is not wealth.-Letters from New York. mouthed advocates of liberty throwing down a nation's freedom at the feet of the shameless, debauched, and unprincipled Charles the Second, crouching to the harlot-thronged court of the tyrant, and forswearing at once their religion and their republicanism. The executioner's axe had been busy among his friends. Cromwell's ashes had been dragged from their resting place, for even in death the effeminate tyrant hated and feared the conqueror of Naseby and Marston Moor. Vane and Hamp. den slept in their bloody graves. He was left alone in age, and penury, and blindness; oppressed with the knowledge that all his pure heart and free soul abhorred, had returned upon his beloved country. Yet the spirit of the stern, old republican remained to the last unbroken, realizing the truth of the language of his own Samson Agonistes. "Patience is the exercise Of saints, the trial of their fortitude, That tyranny or fortune can inflict." True, the overwhelming curse had gone over his country. Harlotry and atheism sat in the high places, and the caresses of wantons and the jest of buffoons regulated the measures of the government, which had just ability enough to deceive, just religion enough to persecute." But while Milton mourned over this disastrous change, no self-reproach mingled with his sorrow. To the last he had striven against the oppressor. Who, that has read his pow BLIND OLD MILTON. BY WILLIAM E. AYTOUN. Place me, once more, my daughter, where the sun I must repose, it may be, half forgot. Yes! I have broke the hard and bitter bread And I have never bowed me to his might, My heart the sternest consciousness of right, Which made me what I am; and though the stain More honor by it than the blinded train Child is the sun abroad? I feel my hair Within my heart I picture them, and then 7 VOICES OF THE TRUE-HEARTED. I almost can forget that I am blind, And old, and hated by my fellow men. Fain would I see thy countenance, my child, My comforter I feel thy dear embrace, I hear thy voice so musical and mild, And wait the hour which is approaching fast, I have had visions in this drear eclipse Of outward consciousness, and clomb the skies, Striving to utter with my earthly lips What the diviner soul had half divined, Even as the saint in his Apocalypse Who saw the inmost glory, where enshrined, Sat He who fashioned glory. This hath driven All outward strife and tumult from my mind, And humbled me until I have forgiven My bitter enemies, and only seek To find the straight and narrow path to heaven. Yet I am weak-O, how entirely weak, For one who may not love or suffer more! Sometimes unbidden tears will wet my cheek, And my heart bound as keenly as of yore, Reponsive to a voice, now hushed to rest, Which made the beautiful Italian shore With all its pomp of summer vineyards dressed, An Eden and a Paradise to me. Do the sweet breezes from the balmy West Still murmur through thy groves, Parthenope, In search of odors from the orange bowers? Still on thy slopes of verdure does the bee Cull her rare honey from the virgin flowers? Love's burning secret faltered on my tongue, And tremulous looks and broken words betrayed 'I he secret of the heart from whence they sprung. Ah me the earth that rendered thee to heaven Gave up an angel beautiful and young; Spotless and pure as snow when freshly driven; A bright Aurora for the starry sphere Where all is love, and even life forgiven. Bride of immortal beauty-ever dear! Dost thou await me in thy blest abode !— While I, Tithonus-like, must linger here, And count each step along the rugged road, A phantom, loitering to a long made grave, And eager to lay down my weary load! I, that was fancy's lord, am fancy's slaveLike the low murmurs of the Indian shell Ta'en from its coral bed beneath the wave, Which, unforgetful of the ocean's swell, Retains within its mystic urn the hum O, yet awhile, my feeble soul awake! They lie with blighted love and buried wo. I did not waste the gifts which nature gave, For constant was my faith in manhood's dower; And Philomel her plaintiff chant prolong, 'Neath skies more calm and more serene than ours, Man-made in God's own image-and I felt Making the summer one perpetual song? Art thou the same as when in manhood's pride I walked in joy thy grassy meads among, With that fair, youthful vision by my side, In whose bright eyes I looked-and not in vain? O, my adored angel! O, my bride! Despite of years, and wo, and want, and pain, My soul yearns back toward thee, and I seem To wander with thee, hand in hand, again, By the bright margin of that flowing stream. I hear again thy voice, more silver sweet Than fancied music floating in a dream, Possess my being; from afar I greet The waving of thy garments in the glade, And the light rustling of thy fairy feetWhat time as one half eager, half afraid, How of our own accord we courted shame, Until to idols like ourselves we knelt, And so renounced the great and glorious claim Of freedom, our immortal heritage. I saw how bigotry, with spiteful aim, So, as a champion, even in early youth I waged my battle with a purpose keen; |