6DI fait g eirtit. CARL SPENCER. The thoughtful verses by this writer entitled, "Is Slavery Dead?" were somewhat marred by typogra phical errors, as they appeared in our issue of the 14th inst. We print them again to-day in another column. They were written, with singular prescience, in June, 1865, by a young and timid girl of sixteen, whose poems published in _Hours at Home, Harpers' Magazine, and other serials, have already made her widely and favorably known. The following verses are certainly very beautiful, and would do credit to the pen of a mature and prap ticed writer; but they will be read with the more in terest, when it is known that the author was but four teen years of age at the time they were first given to tie public. LOVE, HOPE, AND FAITH. Love, Hope, and Faith—the blessed sisters three, Which Heaven vouchsafes to weak Humanity. Hope with her anchor, Fatth with lifted eye To worlds above the sky,— Love, what hest thou? All, all, the hearts deep shrine, Its hope and faith, are thine. 0 precious gifts, that only God could give I Love, Hope, and Faith! by you alone we live, Strength for the present, respite from the past, And promise for the last,— All these are yours, 0 mighty Hope and Faith Ye go with us till death. But thou, 0 gift, all precious things above, By whose sweet name is called the Highest Love, What is thy mission? To upraise and crown What hatred hath cast down, To make of all the evil world a road To lead us up to God. 0 fairest, strongest, holiest of the three, Dwelling with God in His eternity ! Making in lowliest human hearts thy shrine As in the Heart Divine; Greater art thou than even Hope and Faith, Thou conqueror of death POOR BOYS DON'T NEED SKATES. ' In visiting a friend in her splendid new home, we were shown over parlors, library, halls, and chambers, and at last into the room of her little son. It was richly fur nished, and adorned with pictures, and every thing else to please a boy. A large closet opened from the room, in which were toys of every description. Among other things, we noticed, hanging from brass hooks on the wall, three nice pairs of skates. Turning to the young gentleman of thirteen years who was following us about, we said, " Whose are all these skates ?" " Mine," be replied. " But you don't use them all at once ?" we said pleasantly. " Oh, no I ho answered : " two pairs are good for nothing : I have outgrown them. "What are you keeping them for?" "Why, they are too goo to throw. away !" he said in surprise. "Why don't you give them away?" "'Cause," he replied, dropping his head, and blushing. " Oh! because you expect your feet to be small enough to use them again," we said with a smile. "No • but " " Oh 1 you are keeping them for your little brothers ?" we said. Rob was an only child. "No; but they're mine; that's why I keep them," he replied, a little vexed. "Well, Rob," I said, "I know they are yours, and that they are only in your way, and that you can do us yon please with them. Will you give them to me for a poor boy who works all day to help his mother, and who would enjoy skating these moonlight nights? "Poor boys don't need skates; they hain't time to use them," said the little miser; and as his cheeks crimsoned with shame, he turned the key, and put it in his pocket, lest the useless skates might be taken away by force. Now, that was a groat mistake the selfish boy made when he thought that poor chil dren need no amusement. They are just like others is their wants and their tastes. They love play quite as well, and need it a great deal more, than those whose parents are able to provide constant pastime for them, —whose whole lives are one long playtime. So Billy 3.lacduff worked all day in the foundry, and at night stood with his cold hands in his pockets, and looked on while other boys skated,—except as one stopped and loaned him his skates,--while two pairs were rusting on the brass hook in Master Robert's closet. But there was something worse than that going on ; Rob's heart was rusting too ; and soon it will show to the friends who are neglecting it, the rough, unlovely surface which only strangers see now. In contrast with this selfish child of wealth, we remember a boy, who, when the war came on, felt that he must have a sol dier's cap and a drum; little realizing, child ! the horrors of the battles he was imi tating in play. These trifles were his delight; but one day a poor laundress came to the house when he was equipped with them, bringing with her a feeble, hunch-backed boy to help with the basket. He had heard of little Jimmy before: the poor neighbors all said his detbrmity had been caused by the abuse of a drunken father in his infancy. He did not think the unfortunate little dwarf would care at all for play; but when he saw the cap and drum, he whispered almost aloud, as he pulled his mother's skirt, " Oh, if I only could have a . sojer cap and a drum! I'll carry the basket alone every day, mother, if you'll only buy them." Off came the cap, and the string that held the drum; and, in another moment, poor Jimmy, arrayed in them, was, in imagination as brave a soldier as our army boasted. The poor woman asked the lady if she were will ing her son should give them. "Yes, perfectly willing he should give them. Ho must, however, do it from his heart, not expecting money to go out and replace them That would be my gift, not his," replied the wise mother. " I want to give them to Jimmy myself," said the good child ; and he had his reward when he saw the poor boy clapping his thin little hands, and jumping with joy on the sidewalk. And, for a long time, Johnny came every day and marched up and down before the windows, with a stick over his shoulder for a gun to show his gratitude; and the little benefactor felt well repaid for the sacrifice he had made. He was a far happier boy than Rob with his rusty skates. Remember that poor children need play as well as bread and butter and warm clothing; and any thing which will add to their hap piness will be as a deed of charity.—Child at Home. I do not know why the name, which I have placed at the head of this little sketch, is commonly considered a very plain and homely one. It has a beautiful meaning, "the Lord delighteth in thee!" and its sound is soft and sweet. Years ago, in my school-days, I knew a young girl named Hepsibab, " Hepsi" we called her. She was not at all pretty. Her face was freckled—and her form was not very graceful, but still she had a wonderful gift. She pleased people without apparent effort. Everybody, loved her. The little girls carried the puzzling sum to Ilepsi, sure that she would leave her own difficulties, whatever they were, to help them though theirs. The teacher always felt that in her, she had 4, friend, and a co-adjutor—one who was interested in keeping up the good or der, and the moral character of the school. Hepsi was unselfish! In these days we often hear of " me" and "mine" from peo ple in high estate, who ought to be thinking of the county and its welfare, rather than of their own glory and aggrandizement. This dear girl had learned the Gospel motto, "In honor preferring one another." She had not much of'the world's goods to give away, and it was only a smile here, a tear there, a gentle word of help now and then, that she could bestow, but these were ever most willingly offered. What she gave, she gave at once, willingly, gladly, lavishly, and without osetntation. —Catskill. I need not say that Hepsi wits a Christian. At a very early age she gave her heart to the Saviour, and she was still young when He took her to himself. After a long sick ness, borne in all the patience of love, death came to take the sufferer home. The little shop where Hepsi's father daily sat, mak ing and mending shoes, was closed, and the parents, brothers and sisters mourned for the dear eldest one, who had gone from them. With slow steps the funeral cortege passed from the narrow street, through green lanes, and flower fringed fields, to the little burying-ground, where her flesh rests in hope. Can we doubt that her name is Hephzi bah, as the Bible orthography is, in that shin nina home, where it may be said, of every saint, " The Lord delighteth in thee I" In days gone by, it was the custom of all in the Scottish Highlands, who were them selves above want, to keep in some loft or shed, always ready for use, what they called "The puir (poor) man's bed." It would have been a public disgrace for one whom God has blessed with a home to turn any fellow creature away; to shelter an'd feed the needy was looked on as simply acknowl edging and manifesting gratitude for God's favor. Many most touching and beautiful instances of the reward of this hospitality are left for our encouragement. " Wad ye ha' visits fra' angels, spread sheets on the puir man's bed," was verified a thousand times in the dark days of persecution, when the• blood of the holy was scented by the royal soldiery from rock to glen, and from castle to cot. One of those who had made himself obnoxious by his refusal to submit to the king's edict, and who had signed the solemn league and covenant, considered himself safe because he was neither a preacher nor a prominent leader among his brethren. So he went on quietly plowing and sowing his fields, and, in the meantime, feeding and clothing the outcasts, and going secretly to their meetings in those caves and glens made immortal by their unflinching fidelity to Christ. One day he was startled by hearing that a band of the king's men were in search of him, and in a few minutes would be at the farm! His wife, white with the fear that the very name of Claverhouse inspired, besought him to flee for his life. She suggested the barn, the graveyard, and the adjacent grove, as places for hiding; but the old man said, "Na, I'll go nawhere fra my ain hame; gin my hour has na' come, they canna kill me; but gin it has, I'd rather go to heaven fi•ae this bonnie spot than any ither! Our God, Janet, is a covenant-keeping God, and I'll prove him now! Sin iver we've had a hame, we've spread a pillow for the wanderer, as .weel as welcoming every ane at our ingle side. 'Blessed is he that considereth the poor; the Lord will remember him in time of trouble.' I ha' considered the poor, and this is the day o' trouble, sa there can be na doubt o' deliverance ! na run a foot, but just lay my head on the puir man's pillow, whence sa monie prayers ha' risen for me and mine; and see if the angel o' the Lord do no' encamp around me!" Scarcely had he stretched himself out in his humble hiding-place, when, with jeer and curse, the blood-thirsty soldiers galloped up to the door and demanded of the terrified Janet, her husband. "He's na by me," she replied, "and ye canna expect me to do the work yer master pays ye for doing; go yer•. way and seek him if ye will; but ye'll not find him. He's hid den by ane as has more power in the High lands than has yer master, the king!" They thought some nobleman in the re gion had given him shelter, and were .about going away, when one of their number in sisted on searching the premises, lest they might be accused of going on a fool's er rand. THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, APRIL 4, 1867. HEPSIBAH. "THE PUIR MAN'S BED." "Hide me in thy pavilion." Every room has been invaded, and barn and cow-house explored, when, coming back through a shed to threaten the poor wife, one of them saw a ladder leading to the "pair man's loft." Mounting it, he stood in the room with low, dark rafters, whose only furniture was a chair and a bed, in which last a man was lying. Never once thinking that the farmer himself could be there, he returned to his companions saying, "there's nano there but a vagrant asleep; seek him at the castle where the gude wife said he'd gone for shelter." Ah! the strong pavilion in which God had caused him to hide was beyond their ken! They went their way—those men of blood—and then he came forth to praise God for his great deliverance. The shelter he had prepared for others, had changed from a poor room in a loft to a high tower into which he had run and was safe. He had considered the poor, and the Lord remem bered him in trouble. He lived through all the dark days of persecution, till he saw peace upon Israel and heard religious liberty proclaimed on all those fair Scottish hills. If we desire angels for guests, we must prepare for them, and look for them. If we would have a high tower for a refuge in the time of danger, we must build one for those now in terror, and then when our own dark day comes it will be ready, and we can find shelter there.—Era. IS SLAVERY DEAD ? (Reprinted on account of typographical errors.) DEAD ! is it dead ? Bury it deep ! bury it deep ! Lest it should waken and raise its head Out of a SLEEP. Dead! is it dead Ring the bells that men may know It goeth down to its burial bed, And let it go. Dead! is it dead? Over its grave a tablet set, And write : " By all that rule in dread This doom be met." Dead 1 is it dead ? Proclaim it to the universe: "The storm is past from overhead, And gone the curse," Dead! is it dead ? Roll the rock abve its tomb, And plant a new growth overhead, To rise and bloom. Ring! the old tyrant's dead! The fair estate is free: Ring for the brave new heir instead I Come, Liberty "April the First stands mark'd by custom's rules, A day of being, and of making, Fools."—Olci Ballad The First of April, which is again close at hand, is distinguished in the calendar by the singular appellation of All Fool's Day." It would be a curious exception to common ex perience, if, on the present occasion, multi tudes were not betrayed into a due obser vance of the peculiarities of this memorable epoch in the division of time. Many grave and unsuspecting people will, doubtless, be sent upon frivolous and nonsensical errands. Others will be summoned upon the most un founded pretexts out of their warm beds, an hour or more before the accustomed time. Others will be enticed to open packages, promising ample remuneration, but full of disappointment—and others, as they pass along the streets, will be captivated by the sight of pieces of spurious coin, which, when they essay to lift, they will discover securely nailed to the pavement—together with vari ous whimsicalities, which, under other cir cumstances, would be deemed highly offen sive, but, happening on the First of April, are considered, if not agreeable, at least comparatively harmless. For the satisfac tion of those, upon whom some of these tricks may be practiced, we have sought to discover the origin of this strange custom, which we regard as a very silly one, wholly unbecoming the gravity and sincerity that should characterize the Christian. M. E. M Brady's " Clavis Calendaria," published in 1812, mentions, that more than a century previous the almanacs designated the Ist of April as "All Fool's Day." In the northern countries of England and in Scotland the jokes on that day were practiced to a great extent, and it scarcely required an apology to experiment upon the gravest and most re spectable of city or country gentlemen and gentlewomen. The person, whose good na ture or simplicity put him momentarily in the power of his facetious neighbor, was called a " gowk"—and the sending upon ridiculous errands "hunting the gowk." The term "gouth" was a common expression for a cuckoo, which was reckoned among the silliest and simplest of all the feathered tribe. In France, the person made the butt, upon these occasions, was styled "tan poisson d' Avril"—that is, an April fish—by implica tion, an April fool—"poisson d' Avril" being also applied by that nation to a species of fish, easily caught by deception, singly mid in shoals, at this season of the year. The term "April fool" was, therefore, probably,no thing more than an easy substitution of that opprobrious epithet for fish, and it is quite likely, that our ancestors borrowed the cus tom from France, with this change in the phrase peculiar to the occasion. A day of fooleries is observed, also, among the Ilin doos, attended with the like silly species of witticism. By many it is believed, that the term "all" is a corruption of auld, or old, thereby making it originally "Old Fool's Day," in confirmation of which opinion the following observation is quoted from an ancient Ro man calendar respecting the Ist of Novem ber: " The feast of old fools is removed to this day." The oldest almanacs extant, however, have it all (and not old) Fool's Day. Besides the Roman " Saturnalia" and the Druidical rites, superstitions which the early Christians found in existence, when ORIGIN OF "APRIL.FOOL." they commenced their labors in England, was the Festum Fatuorum or Fool's _Holiday, which was, doubtless, our present First of April. In some of the German classics fre quent mention is made of the Aprilen Narr, so that even the Germans of the olden time understood to practise their cunning April arts upon their neighbors quite as well as we of the present day. Enough has been here quoted to prove that the custom is of very ancient existence, but the precise origin thereof remains undis covered, and will have to be dug from some of the musty chronicles of antiquity. And now, reader, remember the adage: "Fore warned, forearmed." If, on the forthcoming Ist of April, you are sent upon a wild goose chase to a neighbor, who has expressed no desire for your presence—or if you are be trayed into any other position, that will cause you to feel and look ridiculous—you cannot lay the blame to our charge. We intend this as a timely caution to you to be on your guard.—Lutheran Observer. The doctor's account of his dog team, and the method of managing these brutes, is very entertaining. lie says: "I have a superb turn-out, twelve dogs and a fine sledge. The animals are in a most excellent condition, every one of them strong and healthy; and they are very fleet. They whirl my Greenland sledge over the ice with a celerity not calculated for weak nerves. I have actually ridden behind them over six measured miles in twenty-eight mi nutes; and, without stopping to blow the team, have returned over the track in thirty three. Sonntag and I had a race, and I beat him by four minutes. I should like to have some of my friends of Saratoga and Point Breeze up here, to show them a new style of speeding animals. Our racers do not require any blanketing after the heats, nor sponging either. We harness them each with a single trace, and these traces are of a length to suit the fancy of the driver—the longer the better, for then they are not so easily tangled, the draft of the outside dogs is more direct, and, if the team comes upon thin ice, and breaks through, your chances of escape from immersion are in proportion to their distance from you. The traces are all of the same length, and hence the dogs run side by side, and, when properly har nessed, their heads are in a line. My traces are so measured that the shoulders of the dogs are just twenty feet from the forward part of the runners. "The team is guided solely by the whip and voice. The strongest dogs are placed on the outside, and the whole team is swayed to right and left according as the whip falls on the snow, to the one side or the other, or as it touches the leading dogs, as it is sure to do if they do not obey the gentle hint with sufficient alacrity. The voice aids the whip, but in all emergencies the whip is the only real , reliance. Your control over the team is exactly in proportion to your skill in the use of it. The lash is about four feet longer than the traces, and is tipped with ' cracker' of hard sinew, with which a skil ful driver can draw blood if so inclined; and ho can touch either one of his animals on any particular spot that may suit his pur pose. Jensen had to-day a young refractory dog in the team, and, having had his patience quite exhausted, he resolved upon extreme measures. 'You see dat beast ?' said he. '1 takes a ',piece out of his ear;' and sure enough, crack went the whip, the hard si new wound round the tip of the ear, and snipped it off as nicely as with a knife. "The long lash, which is but a thin taper ing strip of raw seal-bide, was swung with a shipaock only two and a half feet long. It is very light, and is consequently hard to handle. The peculiar turn of the wrist necessary to get it rolled out to destination is a most difficult undertaking. It requires long and patient practice. I have persevered, and my perse verance has been rewarded; and if I am obliged to turn driver on emergency, I feel equal to the task; but I fervently hope that the emergency may not arise which requires me to exhibit my skill. "It is the very hardest kind of bard work. That merciless lash must be going con tinually; and it must be merciless, or it is of no avail. The dogs are quick to detect the least weakness of the driver, and meas ure him on the instant. If not thoroughly convinced that the soundness of their skins is quite at his mercy, they go where they please. If they see a fox crossing the ice, or come upon a bear track, or wind' a seal, or sight a bird, away they dash over snow drifts and hummocks, pricking up their short ears, and curling up their long, bushy tails for a wild, wolfish race after the game. If the whip-lash goes out with a fierce snap, the ears and tails drop, and they go on about their proper business • but woe be unto you if they get the control. I have seen my own driver only to-day sorely put to his metal, and not until he 'bad brought a yell of pain from almost every dog in the team did he conquer their obstinacy. They were run ning after a fox, and taking us towards what appeared to be unsafe ice. The wind was blowing hard, and the lash was sometimes driven back into the driver's face, hence the difficulty. The whip, however, finally brought them to reason, and in full view of the game, and within a few yards of the treach erous ice, they came first down into a limp ing trot and then stopped, most unwillingly. Of course, this made them very cross, and a general fight—fierce and angry—now fol lowed, which was not quieted until the dri ver had sailed in among them, and knocked them to right and left with his hard hickory whip-stock." —Catskill The celebrated Gerson, although Chancel lor of the University of Paris, and the the ological leader of the reformatory councils of Pisa and Constance in the early part of the fifteenth century, felt that he had a greater work to do. After taking a promi DR. HAYES AND HIS POLAR DOGS. TEACH THE CHILDREN. nent part in all the leading questions of tho age, he retired to a convent at Lyohs, and found his chief delight in the instruction of little children, saying that it was with little children that the reformation of the church should commence. And on his death-bed, he sent for the little ones that they might pray for him. PEACE. Fierce was the wild billow, Dark was the night; Oara labored heavily, Foam glimmered white,— Mariners trembled, Peril was nigh ; Then said the God of God, "Peace! It is I." Ridge of the mountain wave, Lower thy crest! Wail of turoclydon, Be thou at. rest! Peril can none be, Sorrow must fly, When sayeth the Light of Light, "Peace! it is II" Jesus, Deliverer ! Come Thou to me; Soothe Thou my voyaging Over Life's sea! Thou, when the storm of Death Roars, sweeping by, Whisper, 0 Truth of Truth I " Peace I It is I." " YOU'VE GONE OVER IT." One Sunday morning an old gentleman was going to church. He was a happy, cheerful Christian, who had a very great re spect for the Sabbath. He was, however, somewhat singular in his manner of giving reproof. As he was going along, he met a man driving a heavily loaded cart through the town. When the old gentleman came opposite the cart he suddenly stopped, and lifting up both hands, as if in alarm, he exclaimed, as he gazed under the cart: " There, there, you are going over it; you have gone right over it. The driver was frightened, and instantly , 3ried out "Whoa, whoa," and brought his horse to a stand. He then looked under the wheels, expect ing the mangled remains of some innocent child, or at least some poor dog or pig, that had been crushed to death. But, after looking all about, and seeing nothing under the wheels, he looked at tho gentleman, who had so strangely arrested his attention, and anxiously asked, "What have I gone over, sir?" " Over the fourth commandment, my friend," was the reply; Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy." SAVED BY SENGING. A good leader of sacred song in a prayer meeting is almost as important as a good minister. Hymns chosen without apprecia tion of the spirit of the meeting, or sung without life and unction, may disturb reli gious enjoyment, or even turn aside interest awakened. On the other hand, appropriate hymns, sung by one whose heart feels quickly all the pulsations of the meeting, may help both to conviction and conversion. The following incident is in point: Some time in the year 1836 a youth of many prayers had been brought by Divine grace to feel his sinfulness, and was led to trust in Christ. The examination of his conversion had been made by the pastor and elders of the church, who were all satisfied. The Sabbath was drawing nigh when he was to stand before a large congregation and avow his faith in Christ. His soul was much agitated, and Satan was busy with suggest ions. He betook himself to earnest prayer. that God would strengthen him, that ho might manfully bear his testimony for that dear Friend who had bought him with Ms blood. Just before the services began, while the pastor was looking for a hymn, an aged ser vant of Christ arose and gave out that well known hymn by Dr. Watts: "What sinners value 1 resign; Lord, 'tis enough that Thou art mine. I shall behold Thy blissful face, And stand complete in righteousness." This was sung by the whole congregation: the young man's fears all left him; he was filled with unutterable joy, an dfelt that he could bear his testimony before all the world. The hymn has been precious to him during the past thirty years, during which time he has been constantly bearing his testimony for Jesus; has been all the time, and is now, a warm-hearted laborer in the Sunday-school, During the late war he consecrated money, time and labor in the work of the Christian Comission. A text of Scripture, verse, of a hymn, or a sweet song of Zion, often proves to the weary and timid Christian like the sprig of moss in the desert which animated and in spired Mungo Park. Let Christians often speak in psalms, and hymns and spiritual songs, on the pilgrimage of life. THE SURE FOLD. "Why that moisture about the eyes, wife?" "Only it was a foolish fancy. I was just looking at baby, and thinking that any stranger could come and take her from my arms, and she would not know the difference between a mother's lows and a stranger's caresses." As these words were uttered, others came to'my mind, and cheered the heart• They were, " My sheep know My voice. and a stranger will they not follow." More pleasing still was the remembrance, that since His silly sheep are sometimes hired away by the sweet sounds of sense—the bles sed Shepherd has also said.— " I give unto them eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of My hand."
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