resh against the slave-power. After hearing
favorable things said, in Boston, about the South, I can go to Faneuil
Hall, and there, the doors being carefully shut, walk enthusiastically
about the room, almost shouting, "Sam. Adams!" "James Otis!"
"Seventy-Six!" "Shade of Warren!" "No chains on the Bay State!"
"Massachusetts in the van!" "Give me liberty or give me death!" I can
enjoy the privilege of looking frequently on certain majestic figures in
our American Apocalypse, under the present vial,--but I need not name
them. I meet in our book-stores with "Lays of Freedom," never sung by
such as you. I see in the shop-windows the inspiring faces, in
medallion, of those masterpieces of human nature, "the champions of
freedom," our chief abolitionists;--and shall I, can I, ever succumb to
the slave-power, even though it approach me through the holy,
all-subduing charms of woman's influence? No! dear madam, ten thousand
times, No! "Slave-power!" to borrow Milton's figure when speaking of
Ithuriel and Satan, the word is as the touch of fire to powder, to our
brave anti-slavery souls. You have, perhaps, seen a bull stopping in the
street, pawing the ground, throwing the dust over him and covering
himself with a cloud of it, his nose close to the earth, and a low,
bellowing sound issuing from his nostrils. Your heart has died within
you at the sight. You have been made to feel how slight a defence is
fan, or sunshade, against such an antagonist, though you should make
them to fly suddenly open in his face. No enemy of his was in sight, so
far as you could perceive; you wondered what had excited his belligerent
spirit; but he saw at a very great distance that which you could not
see; he heard a voice you could not hear, giving occasion to this show
of prowess. That fearful combatant on the highway, dear madam, is the
North, and you are the distant foe. You may affect to smile, perhaps, at
the valorous attitudes, the show of mettle in the bull, but you have no
idea, as I had the honor to say b
Notka biograficzna
Reverend Nehemiah Adams (born February 19, 1806; died October 6, 1878) was an American clergyman and writer. He was born in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1806 to Nehemiah Adams and Mehitabel Torrey Adams. He graduated from Harvard University in 1826, and from Andover Theological Seminary in 1829. He was ordained as co-pastor of First Congregational Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, that same year. In 1832, he married Martha Hooper.
Widziałeś już piękne sanktuarium gródek w parafia gródek ? Zapraszamy www.bob-art.pl fotografia reklamowa Malczewski Stanislaw Wyspianski
Joanna Baillie (September 11, 1762February 23, 1851) was a Scottish poet and dramatist. Baillie was very well-known during her lifetime and, though a woman, intended her plays not for the closet but for the stage. Admired both for her literary powers and her sweetness of disposition, her cottage at Hampstead was the centre of a brilliant literary society. Baillie died at the age of 88, her faculties remaining unimpaired to the last.