he entered Paradise, has reversed the destinies of a world. The fields seem to wither at its approach, the waters dry up, threatening clouds obscure the sky; and

"Nature, through all her works, gives signs of woe, That all is lost."

It has been esteemed the special privilege and glory of this young republic that her future was in her own hands. Born to no inheritance of wrong and sorrow, like the nations of the older continents, and with an existence as fresh and unsullied as the fame of a ripening maiden, it was supposed that she might see the states which were soon to become the children of her family, growing up about her in prosperity, love and vigor. She could watch over their cradles and keep them from harm; she could nourish them with manly strength; she could form them by her wise and tender solicitude, to a career of exalted worth and greatness. A new page in the history of mankind appeared to be opened—a page unblotted by the blood-stains of tyranny, which mark the rubrics of the past, and destined to be written over only by the records of an ever-maturing nobleness and grandeur. This was the ambition of her fathers- of those who laid the beams of her habitation deep in the principles of virtuous freedom, and bequeathed to her the heroic precedent of single-hearted devotion to justice and right. But, alas, how are their hopes prostrated! Ere the first half century of her youth is passed, she finds herself not engaged in a hand-to-hand struggle for the preservation of her paternal acres, her unshorn and boundless prairies, from slavery, but yielding them almost without reluctance to the fatal blight. When Niobe saw her fair sons and daughters falling under the swift darts of the angry gods, she wept herself to stone, but the genius of America, whom it is the pride of her sculptors to represent as wearing the Phrygian cap of liberty on her brow, and trampling upon broken chains with her feet, and bearing aloft the ægis of eternal justice -surrenders her children, without remorse, to death. She belies her symbols, she suppresses her inspirations; she opens the gates of the coming centuries to the advent of a remediless bondage.

We are aware, it is often said, that slavery cannot be carried into the territories recently organized,—that their soil and climate are not adapted to its sup

port, and that the sole aim, in removing the restriction of the Missouri compromise, is to erase a distinction which the South regards as dishonoring, and unjust. It has however, been sufficiently answered to this, that slavery thrives in Missouri, which is between nearly the same parallels of latitude, that Illinois, similarly situated, was only saved from it by a protracted and earnest struggle, and Indiana only by the immortal ordinance of 1787. But it is useless to adduce precedents and analogies in the face of current facts. The moment in which we write witnesses the proceedings of assemblages convened to keep free-emigration out of these territories by force of arms, if need be. Already slave holders are on their way to establish themselves and their "institution" there, nay they are already in possession of some of the choicest parts of the soil, and are resolved to maintain it, against all comers. Away, then, with the flimsy pretext that slavery is banned by what Mr. Webster called "the laws of God;" by natural position and circumstances! These we admit, have much to do with the prevalence and strength of the system,-but they are not omnipotent nor final,—they are only accessory, either for it or against it,-and the will of man, his determination to abide by the perennial principles of right, or to surrender them to a temporary and shortsighted spirit of gain,-is what gives character in this respect, to society. Nebraska and Kansas will be slave States if slave-holders go there, and they will be free States if freemen go there, and this is the long and short of the matter; let the soil woo and the climate smile encouragement upon whom it pleases. If the American people do not now-on the instant-rescue those lands to freedom, it is in vain that they will hereafter look to Nature or any other influences for their salvation.

We are, indeed, so far from being persuaded that it is not meant to take slavery into our new teritorries, that we begin to entertain the conviction, that the propagandists of the South, will not stop even with the territories. It is imputed to them, by authorities entitled to respect, that they cherish a policy which aims, not merely at its establishment within the limits of all the new states, but at the consolidation of it, by foreign conquests. We know that a movement has long been on foot in California for its legalization there; we know that

Texas is considered as the nucleus of three or four slave-holding sovereignties; we know that schemes, open and secret, are prosecuted for the acquisition of Cuba, before Cuba shall have emancipated her blacks, as it is alleged she intends to do; we know that eager grasping eyes are set on Mexico; we know, that a Senator has called for the withdrawal of our naval squadron from the coast of Africa, that the slave-trade may be pursued in greater safety; we know that another Senator has broached the recognition of the Dominican republic, with an ulterior view to its annexation; and, we are told, that overtures have been made to Brazil for co-operation in the ultimate establishment of a vast slave-holding confederacy to the South. Of course, some of these designs are still in the gristle; they are not participated in by the judicious men of any section; but the remote conception of them should be monitory and waken us to vigilance. It is one of the dangers as well as glories, of this nation, that its plans are executed with the rapidity of magnetism. A thought is scarcely a thought before it becomes a deed. We scorn delays; we strike and parley afterwards; we actualize the dreams of the old philosophers, and impart to our abstract ideas an instant creative energy. The fact, then, that such comprehensive schemes of pro-slavery expansion, gain admittance into active minds, nay, that they are said to burrow in those of men of eminent station, should beget a timely and jealous watchfulness against their least beginnings. The meanest political swindle, which appeals to the avarice, the prejudice, and the restlessness of large numbers of men, may bear in its belly as foul a progeny of evils as were harboured by the Dragon of Wantley, and how dangerous then, how pregnant and prolific may be even the germs of plans which embrace immense and complicated interests, and look to the dismemberment and control of empires?

It is one of the arrangements of Providence, by which it tests the reality of our virtue, and punishes the want of it, that we should be so insensible to joint or corporate responsibilities, and yet so intimately connected with the tremendous good or evil consequences of their infringement. We are apt to suppose that the offences of nations against the laws of integrity and right, can be laid to no man's charge, or rather that the criminality of them is dissipated,

through the multitude of the offenders, and we do not feel in consenting or contributing to the commission of them that

we

contract any degree of personal guilt. On the contrary, we undervalue them as offences, and even laugh at the thought of national sins, as of some gigantic abstraction or chimera, the bodiless and impalpable act of one, who, as the adage expresses it, has neither a body to be kicked nor a soul to damn. But, measured by their actual effects, by the awful reach and deathless vitality of their workings, these national iniquities are they which are most to be struggled against, deprecated, dreaded. The evil done by a private individual spreads through a narrow circle only, and does not always live after him; the contagion of its virus may be speedily counteracted, and the worst results of it often are no more than the debasement of other individuals. But the evil done by the public man, which is sanctioned by a corporate authority, which gets embodied into a wicked law, and to that extent becomes the deed of many, either a family, an association, or tribe or a commonwealth, is augmented and multiplied, both in its criminality and its consequences, by the number of wills which may be supposed to have concurred in it, and is proportionably dreadful to contemplate. Its powers of mischief are infinitely increased; the potent enginery of the state is made its instrument; its blasting influences spread, not only through a single community, but over vast races, and travel downward to the remotest time. It may arrest the movements of nations, paralyse the very fertility of the earth, and stun the heart of humanity for ages. The vices of single men are the diseases by which they themselves suffer and are broken, or at most by which they communicate disease to those who come in contact with them, but the vices of states are a malaria which blisters in the air and festers in the soil, and sweeps away millions in horrible agonies to the tomb.

Oh! how much of good, may be done, or of evil prevented, by a little timely legislation. When Tiberius Gracchus, travelling through Italy, to join the army in Spain, saw how the multitude of his countrymen were impoverished and their fields laid desolate by the existence of slavery, he proposed to terminate its evils, and scatter the clouds of disaster that had already begun to gather and brood over the destinies of the Roman commonwealth, by a sim

ple, just and practicable law which should build up, in the midst of the luxurious Roman nobles and their debased slaves, an independent Roman yeomanry. He perceived that the public domain, long usurped by the Patricians, if appropriated to the people, would prevent the concentration of wealth and stimulate the pride and industrial energies of the almost hopeless people; and, had his project been carried, he would have arrested the downward career of his country, and perpetuated for centuries, doubtless, the early Roman virtue, which still seems marvellous to us in its dignity and force. But the designs of Gracchus were defeated by his murder; the Patricians triumphed; the people grew poorer and corrupter, till they were at last fed like paupers from the public granaries; alternate insurrections of slaves swept the state like a whirlwind; despots like Sylla, and demagogues like Marius convulsed society by civil wars; and, finally, the tyrant Cæsar, arose to reap the harvest of previous distractions, and as the only salvation from profounder miseries, to erect on the ruins of the Republic an irresponsible monarchy.

We have dwelt upon the proceedings of the pro-slavery party so long, that we have left ourselves little space for urging upon other parties their duties in the crises. But we will not speak to them as parties. We will say to them as Americans, as freemen, as Christians, that the time has arrived when all divisions and animosities should be laid aside, in order to rescue this great, this beautiful, this glorious land from a hateful domination. As it now is, no man who expresses, however moderately, a free opinion of

the slave-system of the south, is allowed to hold any office of profit or trust, under the General Government. No man can be President, no man a foreign minister, no man a tide-waiter, even, or the meanest scullion in the federal kitchen, who has not first bowed down and eaten the dirt of adherence to slavery. Oh! shameless debasement, that under a Union formed for the establishment of liberty and justice,-under a Union born of the agonies and cemented by the blood of our parents,-a Union whose mission it was to set an example of republican freedom, and commend it to the panting nations of the world,-w -we freemen of the United States, should be suffocated by politicians into a silent acquiescence with despotism! That we should not dare to utter the words or breathe the aspirations of our fathers, or propagate their principles, on pain of ostracism and political death! just Heaven! into what depths of infamy and insensibility have we fallen!

We repeat, that until the sentiment of slavery is driven back to its original bounds, to the states to which it legitimately belongs, the people of the North are vassals. Yet their emancipation is practicable if not easy. They have only to evince a determination to be free, and they are free. They are to discard all past alliances, to put aside all present fears, to dread no future coalitions, in the single hope of carrying to speedy victory a banner inscribed with these devices:THE REPEAL OF THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW, THE RESTORATION OF THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE,-NO MORE SLAVE STATES, NO MORE SLAVE TERRITORIES, -THE HOMESTEAD FOR FREE MEN ON THE PUBLIC LANDS.

WE

II. THE FOREST.

E slept at a little farm-house in the woods, in Milan township, half way between the Connecticut and the Androscoggin. At departing in the morning, we told our host that we should follow the river up through woods to Errol, to Bragg's tavern. "Wal," said he, "that are's easy enough. Got any fireworks?" "Fireworks?" I queried back again, "No." Pin-wheels whizzing round on tree-trunks, and squibs and double-headers popping about among dry leaves seemed not precisely true forestry. Rockets might announce our whereabouts; but, on the whole, the idea of fireworks, as part of a woodsman's outfit, seemed rather odd. But

our friend answered, in seeming sur

prise, "No? Hain't ye? Wait a

minit." So he entered the house and speedily returned with a box of matches, which he delivered to us, accompanying them with earnest exhortations never to go into the woods without fireworks. This, as now explained, seemed good advice; and we pocketed it and the matches, and departed.

We came, about noon, as per direction, to a lonely log-house in a corn-patch. The road had degenerated into a mere path, and might, if we had pursued it far enough, have ended, like the Western highway, in a squirrel-track, and run up a tree. At the log-hut we got dinnera true forester's meal: bear's-meat, honey, milk, potatoes, and bread and butter-a most refreshing and appetiz ing refection, for which we were charged the sum of ten cents each; a different amount, I trow, from that which Windust or Taylor would exact for viands as rare, and in like quantity and quality. We, however, insisted upon paying the usual tavern-fee, twenty-five cents each; in return for which we received careful directions, two or three biscuit, and a lump of bear's-meat. We refused more provisions, which the kindly house-mother would have pressed upon us, as it was only fifteen miles to Bragg's in Errol, the place where we intended to sup.

Our travelling directions were clear, namely: to follow up the right (or west) bank of the Androscoggin, on which we were, for about three miles, to circum

ambulate Indian Pond, which was described to us, to cross the river at the Seven Islands, and find a straight and easy path a little way back from the river bank on the other side. So we departed; found the pond and the islands; made a raft of loose logs and withes, put our clothes and knapsacks thereon, and swam the river; not without some dim apprehensions of a nip of the toe from a snapping-turtle; re-dressed, and plunged into the woods in search of the 'straight and easy path."

แ

We moved into the forest at a rightangle from the course of the river, and walked straight forward about two miles, without finding any path of any kind, except sundry labyrinthine cart-tracks which generally came round into themselves again within ten rods, in a manner tending somewhat to perplex the unwa ry. These paths ramble about without apparent purpose; but careful inspection shows, here and there, within a few feet of their edge, the close-cut stump of some large tree. The insidious lumbermen have thus ruminated through the woods, as it were slyly circulating from tree to tree, surprising and slaying the old forest giants by coming upon them through these hidden and stealthy

routes.

Having thus ventured into the depths of the forest as far as we dared, observing our due right line of march by "sighting" at such trees as were in range of our course, and having failed as aforesaid, we stopped short in our tracks, faced square about, and went, like the burglarious Sawney, "bock agen." Then we followed the river bank a little way, and made another useless dash off into the forest, in search of the "straight and easy path." In several such explorations we wasted the afternoon; and night overtook us in the woods. good fortune we came, in the midst of our uncomfortable speculations upon the comfort of al fresco bedchambers, upon a "logging-camp "-a close-built snug log-hut erected by lumbermen for residence during their winter work. This we speedily entered; but being yet raw in woodcraft, and without an axe, we only made an insufficient fire inside with such chips and sticks as lay about the small cleared space in which the hnt

By

stood, and lay down with our feet towards the blaze, on the hard matted carpet of dry spruce twigs. We ate the small relics of our provisions; for, in confident expectation of supping in Errol, we foolishly threw away the viaticum which had been given us at dinner, except the lump of meat, and a biscuit. Of that wastefulness we repented that evening, and repented more next day.

We slept cold and uneasily; waking often; each, as he waked, replenishing the fire. Our beds were as hard as a floor. We had no covering but our clothes. The night air was chilly and damp, and more so from the fogs that crept up out of the river and thickened the atmosphere. With the first light of the morning we arose and prepared to go forward. The dreary, grey air seemed as cold as winter. Wet and raw, it clasped us close, settled upon our garments, cleaved stickily to our flesh, and defied our shivering efforts to repel its attacks by the warmth of the fire. A warm night's rest will, of itself, supply no inconsiderable power of resistance to cold; but our animal warmth had been undergoing a process of exhaustion all night long; and it was with a very shrivelled and stiffened feeling that we commenced our breakfastless and indefinite walk. We made one more foolish attempt to discover the visionary path which it had been the object of our wasted afternoon to find; and then resolved, as we ought to have done the day before at noon, to hold straight up the river bank until we should come to Errol. So, for some hours we did, but our progress was slow. Empty stomachs and sleepless nights are not good preparations for long walks. Besides, Harry's ancles, which had been becoming weak for several days, under the unaccustomed labor of so much travel over such rugged routes, began to fail. He walked weakly and slowly; stumbled at the slightest obstacle; and even fell flat down without stumbling, from sheer inability to contract the muscles of the leg and foot. Struggling along, we worked our difficult way onwards until nearly noon, when suddenly we came through a perplexing thicket of blackberry briars, out upon the steep bank of a filthy, muddy creek, that came slowly down from one side of the river valley, through a wide, flat, alder swamp. As is natural (apá yɛ, as Prof. H. would say that Homer would say), our enterprise had diminished with our strength. Neither of us dared wade

this Styx-like stream. Its slow, brown current told of deep, soft mud below; and if either of us, boldly venturing forward, should sink therein, it was pretty evident that, unless he should help himself out, he would stay there; for small aid could come from such "weary wights forlorn." We looked at the sticky Styx in despairing mood. Harry sat down upon the ground, and announced that he should decidedly not attempt crossing any such brook as that. I urged him to come up the country a little and seek a ford. But, upon brief consideration, he refused; explaining that, in fact, he would not go any whither. He proposed, unless washed off or carried away, to die upon the spot; for walk further he neither would nor could. Nor was he unreasonable. He had come the last half mile only by leaning upon my shoulder; and even if his spirit had been willing, his flesh was entirely too weak to reinforce it.

But now what was to be done? If Harry was weak, I was not strong. Neither of us had eaten more than a mouthful or two since the day before at noon. Our various rambles in the forest, if laid off in a straight line, could not have measured much less than thirty miles; and that not of smooth walking over a cleared road, but of crawling, stooping, shoving, scratching, squeezing, jumping, climbing, and many another manœuvre unknown to the machine-gymnast; for such a vile tangle of a forest, full of stumps, stones, briars, hills, bogs, and all imaginable impediments, I am sure never was penetrated before. This thirty miles of agility, therefore, being equal to (say) fifty of ordinary walking, had pretty well exhausted us both. The deep creek flowed stupidly along, not more than a rod wide, but as impassable to us as if it had been the Pacific Ocean.

I

At last, I told Harry that I would go forward myself without him. I left my knapsack in his charge, that I might be the lighter for pushing into Errol. gave him matches to make a fire, in case evening should find him there. I told him that unless I died in the woods

(which I specified that I could not think myself to have been allowed to grow up to my present age and size-to say nothing of general accomplishmentsfor the purpose of doing) I would reach Errol, from which we could not be more than six or eight miles distant, that evening, and would send a boat back for him. Lastly, to make his discovery the surer,