L GARIBALDI TO THE ENGLISH PEOPLE. A WORLD'S CONGRESS SUGGESTED. GARIBALDI has addressed the following remarkable letter to the people of England: which you have already so nobly proclaimed. Help her to escape from the terrible strife waged against her by the traders in human flesh. Help her, and then place her by your side at the great assembly of nations-that final work of human intellect. Call to your side all those people who would be free, and lose not an hour. The initiative which be men should be as brethren? Yes, call her! And she, forgetting that she is temporarily under the dominion of the Genius of Evilif not to-day, to-morrow-if not to-morrow, later-will reply as she ought to your gener"TO THE ENGLISH NATION: It is while ous and regenerating appeal. Call, and at under the double pressure of bodily and once, the bold sons of Helvetia, and clasp mental pain that man can most truly and them firmly to your breast! The warlike most acutely appreciate good and evil, and, children of the Alps-the vestals of the saleaving the authors of his misery to eternal cred fire of liberty on the continent of Eushame, devote unlimited affection and grati- rope-they will be with you. What a host! tude to his benefactors. And that to you, "Call the great American Republic, for O people of England, I owe a heavy debt for she is in truth your daughter, and is strugbenefits bestowed, I feel in the inmost re-gling now for the abolition of that slavery cesses of my soul. You were my friends in prosperity, and now you continue the precious boon in the days of my adversity. May God reward you! And my gratitude is the more intense, O worthy people, inasmuch as, rising as it must do beyond the mere level of individual feeling, it becomes sublime in the general sentiment toward those nations whose progress you represent. longs to you to-day, may to-morrow concern "Yes! you are deserving of the gratitude of the world, because you offer an asylum for misfortune, from whatever part it may come; and you identify yourself with misery, pity it, and relieve it. The French and Neapolitan exile finds in your bosom shelter from his tyrant; he finds sympathy; he is helped, because an exile, because unhappy. The Haynaus-the hardened instruments of autocrats-find no rest in your liberal land, and fly terrified before the bitter scorn of your generous sons. And, in truth, without "Arise, then, Britannia, and at once! your noble bearing, what would Europe be? Arise with your undaunted brow and point Tyranny seizes its exiles in those other out to the peoples the path they must tread! lands where virtue is unnatural, where lib- With a Congress of the world to decide beerty is a lie; but they are still safe on the tween nations, war would be an impossibilsacred soil of Albion. I, like so many oth-ity. No longer would there exist those ers, seeing the cause of justice trampled standing armies which make liberty imposunder foot in so many parts of the world, sible. What weapons! What defences! despaired of human progress. But, turning What engines of attack and defence! And to you, my mind is calmed-calmed by the contemplation of your fearless progress towards that end to which the human race seems called by Providence. "Proceed on your way, O calm, uncon- another. May God forbid such a calamity! Who ever more gallantly than France in '89 assumed that responsibility? At that solemn moment she held up' Reason' to the world, crushed tyranny, and consecrated free brotherhood. Now, after nearly a century, she is reduced to combat the liberty of nations, to protect tyranny, and over the altar of Reason to erect the symbol of that wicked and immoral monstrosity which is called the Papacy. then the millions squandered in implements of destruction would be employed in fostering the industry and diminishing the misery of the human race. Begin, then, O people of England; and, for the love of God, initiate the vast human compact, and bestow this great gift on the present generation! Besides Switzerland and Belgium, you would see other nations, urged on by the good sense of the people, accept your invitation, and hasten to enroll themselves under your banner. Let London now be the seat of this Congress, which shall in future be agreed on by a mutual compact of arrangement and convenience. Once more, God bless you. May he repay you for the benefits you have heaped so prodigally on me. With gratitude and affection, yours, "Varignano, Sept. 28." "GARIBALDI. And left us his grand likeness at its best; High on a hill up which the world might climb!" Better for all had he been sooner shrined; Friends talk of failure; and I know how he Until they shrink and feel 'tis Italy Has failed instead. The words they came to speak Will sink back awed by his majestic calm. His wounds are such as bleed immortal balm, And he is strong again; the friends are weak. It is not failure to be thus struck down By Brothers who obeyed their Foc's command, And in the darkness lopped the saving hand Put forth to reach their country her last crown. He only sought to see her safely home; The tragic trials end; the sufferings cease, In wedded oneness and completing peace; Then bow his gray old head and die in Rome. It is no failure to be thus struck back Caught in a Country's arms-clasped to her heart No failure! though the rocks may dash in foam This first strength of a nation's new lifestream, "Twill rise-a Bow of Promise-that shall gleam In glory over all the waves to come. We miss a footstep, thinking "Here's a stair," You take back Garibaldi to his prison ! Why, this may be the very road to Rome; They would have said, "She croucheth to her doom," If Italy, in some shape, had not risen! I say 'twas God's voice bade him offer up Himself for Aspromonte's sacrifice; So, to that height, his countrymen might rise; For them he freely drank his bitter cup. It is a faith too many yet receive, Since the false prophecy of old went forth"The tribe of Judas yet shall rule the earth." But he is one that never would believe. His vision is most clear where ours is dim. That slumbers in us deep and dreamingly, Was ever quick and more awake in him. And so he fixed his look across the night: His face, though bright as sunshine, often told How the soul's underworld in darkness rolled, And what he saw with sorrow's second sight: But, like a lamp across some dismal heath, A light shone through his eyes no night could quench; The winds might make it flicker, rains might drench; Nothing could dim it save the dark of death. And if his work's unfinished in the flesh, Why, then his soul will join the noble dead Easier to conquer kingdoms than to breed A man like Garibaldi, whose great name Doth fence his country with his glorious fame. Worth many armies in her battle-need. His is the royal heart that never quails, But always conquers; wounded, pale, and low, He never was so dear as he is now: They bind him, and more strongly he prevails. Greater to-day than Emperor or King, There, where, for throne, they seat him in the dust, The express image of sublimest Trust, And consecrated by his suffering. A sovereignty that overtops success! Nothing but heaven might crown his patriotbrow, And lo, a Crown of Thorns is on it now, With higher guerdon than our world's caress. The vision of all his glory fills our eyes, And with one heart expectant nations throb Around him-with one mighty prayer they sob, And wait God's answer to this sacrifice. GERALD MASSET. -Good Words. PALACE AND PRISON. IN the fort of Varignano, On a hard and narrow bed, Brooding thoughts, as a volcano Broodeth lava-floods unshed, Lies a chained and crippled hero, Balked and baffled, not subdued, Though his fortune's sunk to zero, At blood-heat still stands his mood. In his sumptuous sea-side palace, As from splendor wrung may be, From her centuries' sleep arisen, Brave words and brave deeds as well, She that palace-threshold spurns, Of that chained and crippled chief, What's an emperor's word, whose action Then what wonder to the prison O'er that fortress-cell doth burn. And that prisoner is true king! Were his pallet-bed a gallows, There Italia's heart would cling, Not to yon man, dark and callous, Girt by his base courtier-ring. -Punch. ST. PETER WITHOUT THE GATES. 1862. "Petrus, quum venisset ad portam, vidit Christum sibi occurrentem, et aitDomine, quo vadis? Qui respondit, Venio Romam iterum crucifigi.'"-AUREA LEGENDA, cap. 89. "WHAT memory of my ancient life art thou? Is there another Christ than he who trod The shattered gates of death, and rose to God? But no-all pain is graven on thy brow As only one could suffer.-Thou art he! Not thus thy own, the suffering, thought to see Thy coming, when the rifted clouds should gleam To quivering wings and golden panoplies, While high above the starry arch should rise The jasper judgment-thrones. Was all a dream? Hath faith no future? Was the cross in vain? "I travel Romewards-I must die again." "O Lord, the story of thy death is sung In every church, and carved on every stone;The glazing eye sees thee; the infant's tongue Blends Jesus' with its household names in one; The priest who curses those whom Christ set free, The freeman, cursed and cringing, call on thee; The sbirro in the desecrated home, The soldier, whose dishonored sword is red, The mother crouched beside the nameless dead, All know that thou hast died for them, for Rome; These wait thy judgments, Lord! thy cross were vain. "I travel Romewards-I must die again." 'Alas, not only the eternal shrine And common faith witness Gethsemane; The seven-hilled palace, where the city sate O Lord, what need that costlier blood should flow ? Will he believe, who turns to Calvary? vain SHORT ARTICLES.-Follow my Leader, 370. The phrase 875. Circular Panoramic Prints, 375. "A Violation of Nature," The article on The Slave Power, in No. 963, is said to be by John Stuart Mill. 3 NEW BOOKS. THE TWO HOMES: or, Earning and Spending. By Mrs. Madeline Leslie. Boston: Andrew F. Graves. THE SIOUX WAR: What shall we do with it? THE SIOUX INDIANS: What shall we do with them? By James W. Taylor. Saint Paul, Minnesota. THE UNITED STATES AND FRANCE. By Edward Labonlaye. Translated for, and published by, The Boston Daily Advertiser. LITTELL, SON, & CO., BOSTON. For Six Dollars a year, in advance, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded free of postage. Complete sets of the First Series, in thirty-six volumes, and of the Second Series, in twenty volumes, handsomely bound, packed in neat boxes, and delivered in all the principal cities, free of expense of freight, are for sale at two dollars a volume. ANY VOLUME may be had separately, at two dollars, bound, or a dollar and a half in numbers. ANY NUMBER may be had for 13 cents; and it is well worth while for subscribers or purchasers to complete any broken volumes they may have, and thus greatly enhance their value. "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.-Matt. 11: 28. PART I. AWAY into the far, dim wood from her, O'er faulds and meadows old the wild bee flew, Majestic trees above her waved, and stood And dropped their crimson ashes at her feet; A passing breeze stirred through the silent wood, And left behind the moist, dull autumn heat. She saw his last departing shadow fall, And from along the dark and dismal way Faded at last, while sadly over all A moveless shadow fell across the way. Upon her hands she laid her aching head, And weariness of darkness o'er her fell. "I do not understand my life," she said; My soul is lost in woe unspeakable." PART II. We cannot conquer the great world within; Let us, then, forsake our dead- Leaves will come upon the trees Spring will show the happy race; Mothers will give birth to sons, Loyal souls to fill our place. Wherefore should we rest and rust? DIVERSITY IN UNITY "An appeal to the You' of yesterday, ought ever to be qualified by the perceptions of the 'You' of to-day and to-morrow.' "I SAW it with my eyes!" I doubt you not You saw it yes, your lightest word is true; But whether that same thing which once was "You," May, can, or should, with retrospective thought, Stand, like armed sentinel, and bar you out From later lights of life, demands a doubt. "You' may be "you:" but was that halffledged thing, Eyeing from downy nest its strip of sky, The same, in very deed, as that whose wing In practised flights now bears it up on high? Or did its quondam world, its first small sweep, Comprise all worlds? the lofty and the deep? Where quiet sheep in peace, remote from sin, Or, take a higher parable.-In youth, Are guided safely by a Shepherd's love, And ever calm are all their nights and days, Forever calm is all their sky above, And joy doth follow all their winding ways. But, Lord, some are too weak to come to thee; They stumble and fall down in deep despair; Their tearful eyes so blind they cannot see, And hearts too heavy with their carthly care. Redeemer, shall they lay their woes on thee? Wilt fold their weary souls upon thy breast? Thy yoke is easy and thy bondage free; Oh, lead them home to thine eternal rest. I know that only thou canst give them peace, cease, Gather us all to thy pure heavenly folds. OCTOBER. FALLING leaves and falling men! And the winds of winter blow, Vigorous and bright, you chose some worthy part, And well you played it:-blessings on your truth, And blessed your work, of mind, or hand, or heart. Good roots, well planted; hence the living trees: these ? |