And with the idle gallows-rope The young child played. Where the doomed victim in his cell Grown wiser for the lesson given, The outworn rite, the old abuse, These wait their doom, from that great law O backward-looking son of time! So wisely taught the Indian seer; Idly as thou, in that old day Thou mournest, did thy sire repine; So, in his time, thy child grown grey Shall sigh for thine. But life shall on and upward go; The eternal step of Progress beats To that great anthem, calm and slow, Which God repeats. Take heart!—the Waster builds again,— God works in all things; all obey His first propulsion from the night: CLERICAL OPPRESSORS. [In the report of the celebrated pro-slavery meeting in Charleston, S. C., on the 4th of the 9th month, 1835, published in the Courier of that city, it is stated, "The clergy of all denominations attended in a body, lending their sanction to the proceedings, and adding by their presence to the impressive character of the scene."] JUST God!—and these are they Who minister at thine altar, God of Right! Men who their hands with prayer and blessing lay On Israel's Ark of light! What! preach, and kidnap men? Give thanks, and rob thy own afflicted poor? What! servants of thy own Merciful Son, who came to seek and save Pilate and Herod friends! Chief priests and rulers as of old combine! Paid hypocrites, who turn Judgment aside, and rob the Holy Book Of those high words of truth which search and burn In warning and rebuke; Feed fat, ye locusts, feed! And, in your tasselled pulpits, thank the Lord How long, O Lord! how long Is not thy hand stretched forth Visibly in the heavens, to awe and smite? Shall not the living God of all the earth, And heaven above, do right? Woe then to all who grind Their brethren of a common Father down! Woe to the priesthood! woe To those whose hire is with the price of blood,- Their glory and their might Shall perish; and their very names shall be Of a world's liberty. Oh speed the moment on When Wrong shall cease, and Liberty and Love THE CHRISTIAN SLAVE. [In a late publication of L. T. Tasistro,-Random Shots and Southern Breezes, —is a description of a slave auction at New Orleans, at which the auctioneer recommended the woman on the stand as "A GOOD CHRISTIAN! '] "A CHRISTIAN! going, gone!" Who bids for God's own image?-for his grace, My God! can such things be? Hast thou not said that whatsoe'er is done In that sad victim, then, Child of thy pitying love, I see thee stand,— A Christian up for sale! Wet with her blood your whips, o'ertask her frame, Make her life loathsome with your wrong and shame, Her patience shall not fail! A heathen hand might deal Back on your heads the gathered wrong of years: Ye neither heed nor feel. Con well thy lesson o'er, Thou prudent teacher,―tell the toiling slave But wisely shut the ray Of God's free Gospel from her simple heart, So shalt thou deftly raise The market-price of human flesh; and, while Grave, reverend men shall tell From Northern pulpits how thy work was blest, O shame! the Moslem thrall, Who, with his master, to the Prophet kneels, Cheers for the turbaned Bey But our poor slave in vain Turns to the Christian shrine his aching eyes,— God of all right! how long Oh, from the fields of cane, From the low rice-swamp, from the trader's cell, — From the black slave-ship's foul and loathsome hell, And coffle's weary chain,— Hoarse, horrible, and strong, Rises to Heaven that agonizing cry, |