Thou art slumbering in the peaceful grave,

And thy sleep is dreamless now,

But the seal of an undying grief

Is on thy mourner's brow,

And my heart is chill as thine, Mary,
For the joys of life have fled,
And I long to lay my aching breast
With the cold and silent dead!

FREE SPEECH.

Who of us is in harmony with the spirit of this beautiful Spring? Who of us yields up such grateful incense to heaven, as the humblest floweret which we tread under our feet? Who of us in "life or conversation," breathes so much of the spirit of love as yonder little quail, whose breast swells with joy as he whistles his gladsome matin? Speaking of the birds, I could not help thinking, a few minutes ago, as I stood beneath a noble tree whose branches were peopled with these beautiful songsters, that they were illustrating, to a charm, the beauties of free speech. Now and then, one of the most musical of them would send forth a clear note, which would go flying abroad on its silver wings to all the surrounding woods, until every leaf seemed to tremble with joy at the thrilling strain,—and then it would be caught up by one after another of the vernal choir, until the whole heavens were made vocal with the great chorus, and the very winds held their breath to catch its divine inspiration. And this was freedom's own voice,-unregulated by arbitrary laws, unmoderated by ambitious leaders. It was the result of no majority vote,—the production of no business committee,—the tune of no organ," but Nature's assertion of the great right of song, which is the highest order of speech. Who of us that has revelled in the freedom of an unregulated meeting-where men and women aspire to the freedom of birds, but has sometimes heard something not unlike the great chorus of which I just now spoke? Some noble spirit, like friend Rogers for instance, with a heart full of

the richest melody, has sent forth a few of its inspiring strains, and while they were yet quivering upon his lips, they have been caught up by one kindred soul and another, until, heedless of all restraints, their glad voices have intermingled one with another, making what has seemed discord to the superficial ear, but what to any one who can appreciate the deep voices of nature, was a manifestation of the highest harmony. This will seem arrant nonsense to the coarse-minded, who will see in it nothing but lawlessness and "license." But who that has ever listened to the merry voices of unregulated childhood,—and had soul enough to enjoy their simple and earnest utterance-doesn't know, that if one should unravel their tangled speech, and after arranging it thread by thread, line by line, in stupid uniformity,-present that as the model for their future intercourse, he would deserve to be called a downright fool? And yet there are those whose philosphy would lead to this result,-and they really think it is "law and order." Indeed, an order very much like this is that which obtains the highest premium among our 6C common schools."

Now it never occurs to children when in the impetuous flow of their spirits they chance to break in upon each other's speech, they have thus become little "mobocrats." Poor ignorant souls, they have yet to learn that from some future Foster-father. Again -for under the free influence of this fine morning, the subject has taken almost "monomaniac" hold on me-a "band of brothers" and sisters meet together to see what can be done to help a poor neighbor. Their hearts burn with love, and every spirit is moved to encircle their unfortunate or fallen brother in the arms of sympathy and love. And the thought is uttered. It is a great thought, and suggests a thousand others, which come rushing up. into the mind and seeking vent like the waters of the mountain spring. And as And as they flow forth from the sparkling minds and mingle together; or (to lay the metaphor aside, lest it be called inflated,") as the kind voices break forth, laden with friendly sympathies and suggestions,—it will very likely happen, that no one will time his utterance by the clock, and that frequently one

person will interrupt the other, and possibly extinguish his thoughts, just as the intruding sun or moon sometimes extinguishes the stars! This happens in every friendly consultation which ever takes place, and nobody ever dreamed that it was "mobocratic," though in the "higher circles" of life it is not considered "a la mode," and a modern Columbus has "discovered" that it is quite anarchical! Now to my way of thinking, the order of a few friends, meeting together in friendly union and holding that unrestrained and unembarrassed intercourse which is the peculiarity, as it is the glory, if not the essential life, of friendship,—is much more in keeping with the great laws of nature, than the order of a body of people who have subjected themselves to the bridle, the curb-bit, and the lash, of a chairman or "business committee," and stand in obedient readiness to "hor" or "gee" at the word of command. The noble animal which careers across the prairies with the speed of the wind, and whose "neck is clothed with thunder," does not differ more from a broken down stagehorse, whose skin is worn "thread-bare" by whips and harness, -than a genuine free meeting differs from one which is subjected to the control of chairmen and committees. To take a better comparison, the song of the canary bird as he sings among the green retreats of his native island, does not exceed in beauty the song of the same bird imprisoned in a narrow cage and confined in one of our heartless cities (a cage within a cage) than the speech of free meeting exceeds in beauty and power that of the organized convention. If you doubt it, compare those great mass meetings which Jesus Christ used to hold upon the sides of mountains, and the margins of lakes, where every person had the same freedom to speak as himself, (and where business committees, and chairmen, and disciplinary manuals were not thought of,) to the stiff, stilted, officered, regulated meetings of the Jewish Sanhedrim. Jesus Christ-let it be said every where, not by way of authority, but as the example of the greatest of men-was a practical advocate of unrestricted speech. He commenced it when a boy, among the Jewish doctors, and he continued it when a man,

among the people. And this it was, which enabled him to speak "as one having authority, and not as the scribes,"-which made those who were sent to annoy him with their catechisins, go away and say, "never man spake like this man ;" and I am inclined to think, that his advocacy, exercise, and encouragement of free speech, was one of his most heinous offences,—as it has certainly been among his disciples, down to the present hour, when comparatively moderate advocacy of it, is considered "monomaniasm!" and " mobocracy!!" and mere "gab!!!"

LABOR.

BY FRANCES. S. OSGOOD.

Pause not to dream of the future before us;
Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us;
Hark, how Creation's deep, musical chorus

Unintermitting, goes up into Heaven!
Never the ocean-wave falters in flowing;
Never the little seed stops in growing;

More and more richly the rose-heart keeps glowing,
Till from its nourishing stem it is riven.

"Labor is worship!"—the robin is singing;
"Labor is worship!" the wild bee is ringing;
Listen! that eloquent whisper upspringing,

Speaks to thy soul from out Nature's great heart.
From the dark cloud flows the life giving shower;
From the rough sod blows the soft breathing flower;
From the small insect the rich coral bower;

Only man, in the plan, shrinks from his part.

Labor is life! 'Tis the still water faileth;
Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth;

Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust assaileth;
Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon.
Labor is glory! - the flying cloud lightens ;

Only the waving wing changes and brightens ;

Idle hearts only the dark future frightens ;

Play the sweet keys, would'st thou keep them in tune!

Labor is rest from the sorrows that greet as;
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us,
Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us,
Rest from world-syrens that lure us to ill.
Work — and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow;
Work-thou shalt ride over Care's coming billow;
Lie not down wearied 'neath Woe's weeping willow!
Work with a stout heart and resolute will!

Droop not tho' shame, sin, and anguish are round thee!
Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee!
Look to yon pure Heaven smiling beyond thee!

Rest not content in thy darkness - a clod!
Work! - for some good - be it ever so slowly!
Cherish some flower - be it ever so lowly!
Labor! All labor is noble and holy;

Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God!

THE GIBBET.

Who can read the history of the gibbet, with its thousands of bloody massacres, without blushing for his race, that it permits such refined atrocity? Surely no one. Every heart rebels instinctively against such massacres, and declares that no law and no gospel can "sanction" or "sanctify" them. Why, then, do they so often take place? Why do not the people rise up en masse, and destroy the accursed gallows-tree, root and branch? To these questions there are many answers:—but the principal and most vital one is, the opposition of the priesthood and the church, who can't tell the gallows from the cross to save their eyes, but are constantly confounding them together as one and the same thing. The gallows is the pet child and most significant emblem of the church, and she nurses the hideous thing with more than maternal tenderness. The Calvinist priest hugs the gallows to his bosom as a sacred relic and talisman,—and so do nearly all his unearthly and inhuman brotherhood. The halter is the principal rope in their ship-her "main stay,”—and the gibbet her main-mast. That noble hearted philanthropist, Charles