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The father looked down among the grass and “But father-dear father !" laying her little hand shrubbery, and up into the top branches, and then on the spring of the cage door, dear father! would into the cage--the countenance of the poor little you ?" girl growing more and more perplexed and more “* And why not, my dear child ?”' and the father's sorrowful every moment.

eyes filled with tears, and he stooped down and "Well, father-what is it? does it see any kissed the bright face upturned to his, and glowing thing?"

as if illuminated with inward sunshine. “Why " No my love, nothing to frighten her; but where not ?" is the father bird ?"

“ I was only thinking, father, if I should let them " He's in the other cage. He made such a to-do out, who will feed them ?” when the birds began to chipper this morning, that 6. Who feeds the young ravens, dear? Who feeds I was obliged to let him out; and brother Bobby, the ten thousand little birds that are flying about us he frightened him into the cage and carried him off.” now?" “ Was that right, my love ?"

" True, father ; but they have never been impriWhy not, father? He would'nt be quiet, you soned, you know, and have already learned to take know; and what was I to do ?”

care of themselves." · But, Moggy, dear, these little birds may want The father looked up and smiled. their father to help to feed them; the poor mother « Worthy of profound consideration, my dear; I bird may want him to take care of them, or sing admit your plea; but have a care lest you overrate to her ?

the danger and the difficulty, in your unwillingness • Or, perhaps, to show them how to fly, father?" to part with your beautiful little birds.” " Yes, dear. And to separate them just now " Father !" and the little hand pressed upon the how would you like to have me carried off, and put spring, and the door flew open-wide open! into another house, leaving nothing at honie but Stay, my child! What you do must he done your mother to watch over you and the rest of my thoughtfully, conscientiously, so that you may be little birds ?"

satisfied with yourself, hereafter, and allow me to The child grew more thoughtful. She looked up hear all your objections.” into her father's face, and appeared as if more than - I was thinking, father, about the cold rains, and half disposed to ask a question, which might be a the long winters, and how the poor little birds that little out of place ; but she forbore, and after mu- have been so long confined would never be able sing a few moments, went back to the original to find a place to sleep in, or water to wash in, or subject :

seeds for their little ones.” « But father, what can be the matter with the • In our climate, my love, the winters are very poor thing? you see how she keeps flying about, and short; and the rainy season itself does not drive the the little ones trying to follow her, and tumbling birds away; and then, you know, birds always fol. upon their noses, and toddling about as if they were low the sun; if our climate is too cold for them, tipsy, and could'nt see straight.”

they have only to go farther south. But in a word, “I am afraid she is getting discontented." my love, you are to do as you would be done by.

« Discontented! How can that be, father? | As you would not like to have me separated from Has'nt she her little ones about her, and every your mother and you; as you would not like to be thing on earth she can wish, and then, you know, imprisoned for life, though your cage were crammed she never used to be so before."

with loaf sugar and sponge cake-as you~" - When her mate was with her, perhaps."

" That'll do father! that's enough! Brother « Yes, father; and yet now I think of it, the mo. Bobby! hither Bobby! bring the little cage with ment these little witches began to peep-peep, and you; there's a dear!" tumble about so funny, the father and mother began Brother Bobby sang out in reply; and after a to fly about in the cage, as if they were crazy. moment or two of anxious inquiry, appeared at the What can be the reason? The water, you see, is window with a little cage. The prison doors were cool and clear; the sand bright; they are out in the opened : the father bird escaped ; the mother bird open air, with all the green leaves blowing about immediately followed, with a cry of joy; and them; their cage has been scoured with soap and then came back and tolled her little ones forth sand; the fountain filled; and the seed box_and— among the bright green leaves. The children clapand-I declare I cannot think what ails them.” ped their hands in an ecstacy, and the father fell

"My love, may it not be the very things you upon their necks and kissed them; and the mother, speak of? Things which you think ought to make who sat by, sobbed over them both for a a whole them happy, are the very cause of all their trouble, hour, as if her heart would break; and told her you see. The father and mother are separated. How neighbors with tears in her eyes. can they teach their young to fly in that cage ! How teach them to provide for themselves ?” “ The ungrateful hussy! What ! after all that we

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have done for her; giving her the best room that we « Yes, father." could spare ; feeding her from our own table; cloth “Don't interrupt me. You drive every thing out ing her from our own wardrobe ; giving her the of my head. What was I going to say ? Oh! ah ! bandsomest and shrewdest fellow for a husband within that in our long winters and cold rains, these poor twenty miles of us; allowing them to live together things who have been hrought up in our houses, and till a child is born; and now, because we have thought who know nothing about the anxieties of life, and proper to send him away for a while, where he may have never learned to take care of themselvs-andearn his keep-now, forsooth! we are to find my a—" lady discontent with her situation !"

“ Yes, falher ; but could't they follow the sun, too? « Dear father!"

or go further south?" • Hush, child !"

“ And why not be happy here ?" « Ay, discontented- that's the word-actually dis Bot, father-dear father! How can they teach satisfied with her condition ! the jade ! with the best their litlle ones to fly in a cage .?” of every thing to make her happy-comforts and Child, you are getting troublesome !" luxuries she could never dream of obtaining if she And how teach their young to provide for themwere free to-morrow—and always contented; never selves, father ?" presuming to be discontented till now.”

« Put the little imp to bed, directly : do you hear ?" “And what does she complain of father?"

« Good night, father! Good night, mother! Do « Why, my dear child, the unreasonable thing as you WOULD BE DONE BY.” complains just because we have sent her husband away to the other plantation for a few months; be was idle here, and might have grown discontented,

MY FRIEND. too, if we had not picked him off. And then, instead of being happier, and more thankful-more thankful Wouldst thou be friend of mine? to her heavenly Father, for the gift of a man child, Thou must be quick and bold Martha tells me that she found her crying over it, When the right is to be done, calling it a little slave, and wished the Lord would And the truth is to be told; take it away from her—the ungrateful wench! when the death of that child would be two hundred dollars

Wearing no friend-like smile out of my pocket-every cent of it!"

When thine heart is not within, « After all we have done for her too !" sighed the Making no truce with fraud or guile, mother.

No compromise with sin. «I declare I have no patience with the jade !" continued the father.

Open of eye and speech, « Father--dear father!"

Open of heart and hand, « Be quiet, Moggy? don't teaze me now."

Holding thine own but as in trust u But, father !” and, as she spoke, the child ran up

For thy great brother-band. to her father and drew him to the window, and threw Patient and stout to bear, back her sun-shiny tresses, and looked up into his

Yet bearing not for ever; eyes with the face of an angel, and pointed to the cage Gentle to rule, and slow to bind, as it still hung at the window, with the door wide

Like lightning to deliver ! open!

The father understood her, and colored to the eyes ; True to thy fatherland, and then, as if half ashamed of the weakness, bent True to thine own true love; over and kissed her forehead-smoothed down her True to thine altar and thy creed, silky bair-and told her she was a child now, and And thy good God above. must not talk about such matters till she had grown

But with no bigot scorn older.

For faith sincere as thine, • Why not, father ?"

Though less of form attend the prayer, « Why not? Why bless your little heart! Suppose I were silly enough to open my doors and turn

Or more of pomp the shrine; her adrift, with her child at her breast, what would

Remembering Him who spake become of her ? Who would take care of her ? who The word that cannot lie, feed her ?"

" Where two or three in my name meet « Who feeds the ravens, father? Who takes care of There in the midst am I!" all the white mothers, and all the white babes we see ?" « Yes, child—but then-I know what you are think.

I bar thee not from faultsing of; but then there's a mighty difference, let me

God wot it were in vain! tell you, between a slave mother and a white mother Inalienable heritage -between a slave child and a white child."

Since that primeval stain!

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

The wisest have been fools

World. The slaveholder dragging his languid frame The surest stumbled sore :

from the rice-region and the sugar-plantation, full of Strive thou to stand-or fall’n arise,

contempt for the laborer, and bitter in his scorn of I ask the enot for more!

Yankee meanness, has been awed into reverence for

Industry in the presence of the working-women of
This do, and thou shalt knit

Lowell; and, painfully contrasting the unpaid and
Closely my heart to thine;
Next the dear love of God above,

whip-driven labor of his plantation, with the free

and happy thrift of the North, he has returned home, Such friend on earth, be mine!

“ A sadder but a wiser man," feeling from henceforth that woman may « labor with

her hands,” and lose nothing of the charm and glory THE FACTORY GIRLS OF LOWELL.

of womanhood by so doing—that it is only his own dreadful abuse of labor, attempting to reverse its just

and holy laws, and substitute brutal compulsion for Acres of girlhood - beauty reckoned by the generous and undegrading motives, that has made square rod, or miles by long measure !—The young, the women of his plantation mere beasts of burden, the graceful, the gay-flowers gathered from a thou- or objects of unholy lust, cursing alike themselves sand hill-sides and green vallies of New England, and their oppressors. fair, unveiled Nuns of Industry-Sisters of Thrift, Thus is it, that our thousands of « Factory Girls," and are ye not also Sisters of Charity, dispensing become apostles of Democracy, and teachers of the comfort and hope and happiness around many a hearth- great truth, which even John C. Calhoun, slaveholder stone of your native hills, making sad faces cheerful as he is, felt constrained to recognize in his controand hallowing age and poverty with the sunshine of versy with Webster : “ The laborer has a title to the your youth and love !-Who shall sneer at your call-fruits of his industry against the universe.” They ing? Who shall count your vocation otherwise than demonstrate the economy of free and paid labor.noble and ennobling?

They dignify woman, by proving that she can place Four years ago, in a hasty visit to Lowell I was, herself in independent circumstances, without deroat the Boott Corporation in company with Joseph gating from the modesty and decorum of her characSTURGE, of Birmingham, the calm, devoted leader of ter :-that she can blend the useful with the beauti. the Democracy of England, and my friend Lt. Ren-ful, and that, instead of casting herself, as a fair but shaw, of South Carolina, and more recently a mis- expensive burthen upon the other sex-its plaything sionary in Jamaica, among the newly emancipated and its encumbrance--she is capable of becoming a blacks of that Island. As the bell was ringing, and help-mete and a blesssing. the crowd of well-dressed, animated and intelligent. Yet, I do not overlook the trials and disadvantages looking young women passed by us on their way to of their position. Not without a struggle have many their lodgings, the philanthropic Englishman could of these females left the old paternal home-stead, not repress his emotions at the strong contrast they and the companions of their childhood. Not as a presented to the degraded and oppressed working- matter of taste and self-gratification have many of women of his own country; and the spectacle, I them exchanged the free breezes, and green mead. doubt not, confirmed and strengtheend his determi- ows, and household duties, of the country, for the nation to consecrate his time, wealth, and honorable close, hot city, and the jar and whirl of these crowdreputation, to the cause of the laborer, at home.-ed and noisy mills. In the midst of the dizzy rush My friend Renshaw, who was banished from his of machinery, they can hear in fancy the ripple of mother's fireside, and his father's grave, for the cause brooks, the low of cattle, the familiar sound of the of abolitionism, deeply impressed with the beauty voices of home. Nor am I one of those who count of Freedom, and hope-stimulated industry, exclaim- steady, daily toil, consuming the golden hours of the ed—- Would to God my mother could see this !" day, and leaving only the night for recreation, study At home, he had seen the poor working-women of and rest, as in itself a pleasurable matter. There the South driven by the whip to their daily tasks ; have been a good many foolish essays written upon here with gaiety and hope, and buoyant gracefulness, the beauty and divinity of labor by those who have he saw the women of New England pass from their never known what it really is to earn one's livelilabors, making industry beautiful, and throwing the hood by the sweat of the brow-who have never, charm of romance and refinement over the dull mo- from year to year, bent over the bench or loom, shut notony of their self-alloted tasks. Not in vain then, out from the blue skies, the green grass, and sweet are the lessons of Free Labor taught by the - Facto- waters, and felt the head reel, and the heart faint, ry Girls." The foreign traveller has repeated them and the limbs tremble with the exhaustion of unrein aristocratic England, in Germany, in France, and mitted toil. Let such be silent. Their sentimentalPrussia-and thus have the seeds of democratic ism is a weariness to the worker. Let not her who truth been sown in the waste places of the Old I sits daintily with her flowers, « herself the fairest,"

THE LABOURER.

BY WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER.

Stand up-erect! Thou hast the form

And likeness of thy God!—who more! A soul as dauntless 'mid the storm Of daily life, a heart as warm

And pure, as breast e'er wore.

What then?_Thou art as true a MAN

As moves the human mass along, As much a part of the great plan That with Creation's dawn began,

As any of the throng.

Who is thine enemy?—the high

In station, or in wealth the chief ? The great, who coldly pass thee by, With proud step and averted eye?

Nay! nurse not such belief.

If true unto thyself thou wast,

What were the proud one's scorn to thee ? A feather, which thou mightest cast Aside, as idly as the blast

The light leaf from the tree.

looking out from cool verandahs on still, green
woods and soft flowing waters, to whom Music and
Poetry and Romance minister, whose slightest wish
is as law to her dependents,--undertake to senti-
mentalize over the working classes," and quote
Carlyle and Goethe, concerning the romance and
beauty, and miraculous powers of Work-in the ab-
stract. How is it that with such admirers of Labor,
the laborer is so little considered ? How is it that
they put forth no hand to pull down that hateful wall
of distinction which pride has built up between the
labourer and the labored for? Excellent was the
advice of Dr. Johnson to Boswell : “My dear sir,
clear your mind of CANT.”

My attention has been called to a neat volume just
published in London, consisting of extracts from the
Lowell Offering, written by females employed in the
mills, to which the English editor has given the title
of Mind amongst the Spindles." Thousands will
read it, and admire it, who will not reflect upon the
fact that these writings are only an exception to the
general rule, that after twelve or more hours of
steady toil, mind and body are both too weary for
intellectual effort. “ MIND AMONG THE SPINDLES !"
Let all manner of Factory Agents, and Corpora-
tions without souls,". consider it. The mind of the
humblest worker in these mills is of infinitely more
consequence in the sight of Him who looks on the
realities of His universe, than all the iron-armed
and steam-breathed engines of mechanism. It is a
serious fact, gentlemen, that among your spindles,
and looms, and cottons, and woolens, are thousands
of immortal souls-children of our Great Father-
fearfully dependent for their bias towards good or
evil, for their tendency upward or downward, upon
the circumstances with which they are environed.--
Think less of your monster-mechanisms, and more
of the "SPIRIT WITHIN THE WHEELS.”

The one may wear out with constant friction, but it is only dead matter. It may be restored. But, who shall repair the worn out body, and renovate that spirit, the life of which has been exhausted by toil too protracted?

Yes—let the unpractical say what they will, there is much that is wearisome and irksome in the life of the factory operative. All praise then to those, who, by the cultivation of their minds, and the sweet influences of a healthful literature, have relieved this weariness, and planted with flowers the dusty path-way of Toil. Honor to those who have demonstrated to the blind aristocrats of Europe and America, that the rich and the idle cannot become the entire monopolists of refined tastethat in the temple of Nature, which is open to all, the Beautiful stands side by side with the Useful -Grace rowing her oaken garland over the sun-brown brow of Labor-with the same soft skylight of Our FATHER's blessing resting upon all.

No :-uncurb'd passions-low desires-

Absence of noble self-respectDeath, in the breast's consuming fires, To that high nature which aspires

Forever, till thus checked

These are thine enemies—thy worst;

They chain thee to thy lowly lotThy labour and thy life accurst. Oh, stand erect! and from them burst!

And longer suffer not !

Thou art thyself thine enemy!

The great !-what better they than thon ? As theirs, is not thy will as free? Has God with equal favours thee

Neglected to endow ?

True, wealth thou hast not : 'tis but dust!

Nor place : uncertain as the wind ! But that thou hast, which, with thy crust And water, may despise the lust

Of both--a noble mind.

With this, and passions under ban,

True faith, and holy trust in God, Thou art the peer of any man. Look up, then-that thy little span

Of life may be well trod !

REFORM

BY THOMAS L. HARRIS.

A voice peals o'er life's wildly heaving waters,

More startling than the anthem of the storm; Sweet as the hymn wherewith Etruria's daughters

Went forth of old to 'velcome in the morn : It shakes with fear the despot stern and hoary;

He totters on his blood-cemented throneIt breathes into the warrior's ear the story

Of days when fields of blood will be unknownIt fills the gray old idol-fanes, whose altars

Are fitly builded o'er the hollow tomb; The Priest amid his incantation falters,

And trembles with the presence of their doom; Falsehood, with fearful agony dissembles,

And vice, within her gilded chamber trembles And hate grows darker still with idle rage.

The mournful wreath, wherewith their hate hath bound

Shall change unto a starry diadem. [thee, The grand of soul, the true, the noble-hearted,

Will hear thy strokes and rally at thy side, And round thy brow, through rifted clouds and parted,

Stream down the smile of God. O, glorified !
From life and voice the wakened world inherit

A legacy of truth and love sublime,
Whose charm shall echo when thy earnest spirit

Rests with the mighty of the olden time;
Rests, filled with joy beyond all human story,

As looking down, with calm and god-like eyes, It views the race, in mind's transcendant glory,

Scaling the star-crowned mountains of the skies !

TRUTH AND FREEDOM.

But the crushed bondsman hears it, and upspringeth

To burst his shackles and once more be free, And shouts aloud until the echo ringeth

O'er the far islands of the Eastern sea. The faithful lover of his race rejoices-

The champion girds his gleaming armor onThe seer saith “God speaks in those earnest voices :

Earth's fearful battle-field shall yet be won." Each hallowed martyr of the ages olden

Leapeth for joy within his darkened grave, And new-born poets wake with voices golden

To chant the glorious actions of the brave; O'er earth it rolls like peals of gathering thunder,

And nations rise from slumber on the sod, And angels list, all mute with breathless wonder,

Its echo in the living soul of God! O'er every radiant island of creation

The music of that swelling peal is borne, Land bears to land, and nation shouts to nation

The war.cry of the age-reform !--REFORM! List to that mighty music-0, my brother!

Heed thou those anthem-voices, as they roll, Like bursting flames that darkness faini would smother

Through the deep chambers of the inner soul, Waking the spirit, in its deathless power,

To gird its armor for the daily fight; And in the Present's dark and fearful hour

Go forth to battle for the true and right. Hearken, and burst the slimy chains of fashion,

Let the false worlding scorn thee if he will; Rise, sun-like, o'er the storms of earthly passion,

And stem with fearless breast the tide of ill.

BY WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER.
" He is the FREEMAN whom the TRITI makes free,
And all are slaves beside.”- COWPER.
For the Truth, then, let us battle,

Whatsoever fate betide !
Long the boast that we are FREEMEN,

We have made and published wide.
He who hath the Truth, and keeps it,

Keeps what to himself belongs,
But performs a selfish action,

That his fellow mortal wrongs.
He who seeks the Truth, and trembles

At the dangers he must brave,
Is not fit to be a Freeman :-

He, at least, is but a slave,
He who hears the Truth and places

Its high promptings under ban,
Loud may boast of all that's manly,

But can never be a man.
Friend, this simple lay who readest,

Be not thou like either them,-
But to Truth give utmost freedom,

And the tide it raises, stem.
Bold in speech and bold in action,

Be forever!-Time will test,
Of the free soul'd and the slavish,

Which fulfils life's mission best.
Be thon like the noble Roman-

Scorn the threat that bids thee fear,
Speak !-no matter what betide thee;

Let them strike, but make them hear.
Be thou like the first Apostles-

Be thou like heroic Paul;
If a free thought seek expression,

Speak it boldly !-speak it all!
Face thine enemies !-accusers !

Scorn the prison, rack, or rod!
And, if thou hath Truth to utter,

Speak! and leave the rest to God.

Success will crown each arduous endeavor,

And from the strife thy sonl rise great and free, And deed give birth to deeds that roll forever,

Wave after wave, o'er time's grand, azure sea. A crown of thorns the foe may twine around thee :

Press on, the way is open, heed not them

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