satisfaction,’ the editor said, ‘and would recommend it to all those who wish to cherish female genius, and whose best feelings are enlisted in the cause of the poor oppressed sons of Africa
It is the production of a young lady of fine talents, whose circumstances are far from being affluent, but whose pen should never be idle while it continues to glow with sentiments like the following.’
It is interesting to observe that this first indication of Mr. Garrison
's giving any thought to the slavery question was elicited by the writing of a woman, and a single extract will show how well calculated it was to make an impression on his mind and conscience:
Is it a dream?
Or do I hear a voice of dreadful import,
The wild and mingling groans of writhing millions,
Calling for vengeance on my guilty land?
Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes
A fount of tears!—Columbia!
in thy bosom
Can slavery dwell?—Then is thy fame a lie!
Can Oppression lift his hideous, gorgon head
Beneath the eye of freedom?—Oh my country!
This deep anathema—this direst evil,
“Like a foul blot on thy dishonored brow,”
Mars all thy beauty; and thy far-famed glory
Is but a gilded toy, for fools to play with!
For in the mock'ry of thy boasted freedom
Thou smil'st, with deadly joy, on human woe!
Thy soul is nourished with tears and blood, Columbia!
O let the deepest blush of honest shame
Crimson thy cheek!
for vile Oppression walks
Within thy borders!—rears his brazen front
'Neath thy unchiding eye!
The next editorial reference to the subject is found at the conclusion of an article on the approaching ‘Fourth of July,’ in which, after reviewing the wonderful progress, material and intellectual, of the nation, during its first fifty years, and rehearsing the causes for gratitude and thanksgiving, Mr. Garrison
‘Thus much for the favorable side of the picture.
But are1 there no dark shades to be seen?
Is there nothing to fear for our ’