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calm coming over him. It was not hope—that was impossible; it was not resignation; it was only a calm resting in the present, which seemed so beautiful that he wished to think of no future. It was like that hush of spirit which we feel amid the bright, mild woods of autumn, when the bright hectic flush is on the trees, and the last lingering flowers by the brook; and we joy in it all the more because we know that soon it will all pass away.”

The unbounded popularity of Uncle Tom's Cabin, provoked such violent and false accusations on the part of its enemies, that Mrs. Stowe was almost obliged to prepare a key, which should prove that she had not exaggerated in her story. In a letter to friends in Scotland, she speaks thus of the labor of preparing it :

« When the time came for me to fulfil my engagement with you, I was, as you know, confined to my bed with a sickness, brought on by the exertion of getting the Key to Uncle Tom's Cabin through the press during the winter. The labor of preparing that book, simply as an intellectual investigation, was severe; but what a risk of life and health it was to me, no one can appreciate but myself.

“Nothing could have justified me, with my large family of children, in making such an effort, in the state of health in which I then was, except the deep conviction which I had, and still have, that I was called of God's providence to do it.

“ In every part of the world, the story of Uncle Tom had awakened sympathy for the poor American slave, and, conse

quently, in every part of the world, the story of his wrongs had been denied ; and it had been asserted that it was a mere work of romance, and I was charged with being the slanderer of the institutions of my own country.

“I knew that, if I shrunk from supporting my position, the sympathy which the work had excited would gradually die out, and the whole thing would be looked upon as a mere romantic excitement of the passions, without any adequate basis of facts.

“ Feeble and reduced as I was, it became absolutely necessary that I should take this opportunity, when the attention of the world was awakened, to prove the charges which I had made. “ Neither could such a work be done slightly; for

every statement was to be thrown before bitter and unscrupulous enemies, who would do their utmost to break the force of everything which was said.

“ It was, therefore, necessary that not an assertion should be made without the most rigorous investigation and scrutiny; and, worn as I then was with the subject, with every nerve sensitive and sore, I was obliged to spend three months in what were to me the most agonizing researches.

“The remembrance of that winter is to me one of horror. I could not sleep at night, and I had no comfort in the daytime. All that consoled me was, that I was bearing the same kind of suffering which Christ bore, and still bears, in view of the agonies and distresses of sin in this world.”

The “Key” was eminently successful in sustaining the truth of the story of Uncle Tom. It was an aw

ful exposure to the world of American slavery, and one which Mrs. Stowe would gladly have avoided, but it was forced upon her in self-defense. That it and the book to which it is an accompaniment may fly swiftly upon their errand of mercy, to beg for the poor slave the sympathy and love of every humane heart, is our heartfelt desire.


ELIAU BURRITT is forty-three years old, and was born in the village of New Britain, Connecticut, a few miles south-west of the city of Hartford. His parents were very poor, and a common school education was all that they could give their children. The father was an ordinary man-honest, virtuous and respectable, though excessively poor. The mother, however, was remarkable for her many virtues. She was a woman of fine intellect, lofty courage, ardent piety, and brought up her children most admirably. Such mothers seem always to have uncommon children. Besides the subject of this sketch, she had another son, Elijah Burritt, whose name is not unknown to fame, and who perished on the prairies of the far south, a victim to an insatiable thirst for adventure and knowledge.

Elihu, like the majority of New England boys, laid the foundation for his after greatness, in a district school-house. While yet a boy, he had visions of future greatness. Though the roof beneath which he slept was humble, though his position was lowly, yet in his heart there were great and noble aspirations.

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