THE INNER LIFE THE AGENCY OF EVIL. From the Supernaturalism of New England, in the Democratic Review for 1843. IN this life of ours, so full of mystery, so hung about with wonders, so written over with dark riddles, where even the lights held by prophets and inspired ones only serve to disclose the solemn portals of a future state of being, leaving all beyond in shadow, perhaps the darkest and most difficult problem which presents itself is... more...

POEMS OF NATURE THE FROST SPIRIT He comes,—he comes,—the Frost Spirit comes     You may trace his footsteps nowOn the naked woods and the blasted fields and the     brown hill's withered brow.He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees     where their pleasant green came forth,And the winds, which follow wherever he goes,     have... more...

IT may be inquired of me why I seek to agitate the subject of Slavery in New England, where we all acknowledge it to be an evil. Because such an acknowledgment is not enough on our part. It is doing no more than the slave-master and the slave-trader. "We have found," says James Monroe, in his speech on the subject before the Virginia Convention, "that this evil has preyed upon the very vitals of the Union; and has been prejudicial to all the... more...

THE LITTLE IRON SOLDIER OR, WHAT AMINADAB IVISON DREAMED ABOUT. AMINADAB IVISON started up in his bed. The great clock at the head of the staircase, an old and respected heirloom of the family, struck one. "Ah," said he, heaving up a great sigh from the depths of his inner man,"I've had a tried time of it." "And so have I," said the wife. "Thee's been kicking and threshing about all night. I do wonder what ails thee." And well she might; for... more...

POEMS SUBJECTIVE AND REMINISCENT MEMORIES A beautiful and happy girl,With step as light as summer air,Eyes glad with smiles, and brow of pearl,Shadowed by many a careless curlOf unconfined and flowing hair;A seeming child in everything,Save thoughtful brow and ripening charms,As Nature wears the smile of SpringWhen sinking into Summer's arms. A mind rejoicing in the lightWhich melted through its graceful bower,Leaf after leaf, dew-moist and... more...

REFORM AND POLITICS UTOPIAN SCHEMES AND POLITICAL THEORISTS. THERE is a large class of men, not in Europe alone, but in this country also, whose constitutional conservatism inclines them to regard any organic change in the government of a state or the social condition of its people with suspicion and distrust. They admit, perhaps, the evils of the old state of things; but they hold them to be inevitable, the alloy necessarily mingled with all... more...

THE FROST SPIRIT He comes,—he comes,—the Frost Spirit comesYou may trace his footsteps nowOn the naked woods and the blasted fields and thebrown hill's withered brow.He has smitten the leaves of the gray old treeswhere their pleasant green came forth,And the winds, which follow wherever he goes,have shaken them down to earth.He comes,—he comes,—the Frost Spirit comes!from the frozen Labrador,From the icy bridge of the... more...

A LAMENT "The parted spirit,Knoweth it not our sorrow? Answereth notIts blessing to our tears?"The circle is broken, one seat is forsaken,One bud from the tree of our friendship is shaken;One heart from among us no longer shall thrillWith joy in our gladness, or grief in our ill.Weep! lonely and lowly are slumbering nowThe light of her glances, the pride of her brow;Weep! sadly and long shall we listen in vainTo hear the soft tones of her... more...

THE CROSS. Richard Dillingham, a young member of the Society of Friends, died in the Nashville penitentiary, where he was confined for the act of aiding the escape of fugitive slaves. "The cross, if rightly borne, shall beNo burden, but support to thee;"So, moved of old time for our sake,The holy monk of Kempen spake. Thou brave and true one! upon whomWas laid the cross of martyrdom,How didst thou, in thy generous youth,Bear witness to this... more...

PERSONAL POEMS A LAMENT      "The parted spirit,     Knoweth it not our sorrow? Answereth not     Its blessing to our tears?" The circle is broken, one seat is forsaken,One bud from the tree of our friendship is shaken;One heart from among us no longer shall thrillWith joy in our gladness, or grief in our ill. Weep! lonely and lowly are slumbering nowThe light of her... more...