THE SLAVE SILIPS.

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

That fatal, that perfidious bark, Built i' the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark."

Milton's Lycidas.

Hark! from the ship's dark bosom,

The very sounds of hell ! The ringing clank of iron

The maniac's short, sharp yell! The hoarse, low curse, throat-stifled

The starving infant's moanThe horror of a breaking heart

Pour'd through a mother's groan!

Up from that loathsome prison

The stricken blind ones came : Below, had all been darkness-

Above, was still the same. Yet the holy breath of Heaven

Was sweetly breathing there, And the heated brow of fever

Coold in the soft sea air.

The French ship Le Rodeur, with a crew ostwenty-two men, and with one hundred and sixty negro slaves, sailed from Bonny in Africa, April, 1819. . On approaching the line, a terrible malady broke out-an obstinate disease of the eves--contagious, and altogether beyond the resources of medicine. li was aggravated by the scarcity of water among the slaves, (only half a wine glass per day being allowed to an individual,) and by the extreme impurity of the air in which they breathed. By the advice of the physician, they were brought upon deck occasionally ; but some of the poor wretches, locking theinselves in each other's arms, leaped overboard, in the hope, which so universally prevails among thens, of being swifily transported to their own homes in Africa. To check this, the captain ordered several, who were stopped in the attempt, to be shot, or hanged, before their conipanions. The disease extended to the crew; and one after another was smitten with it, until only one remained unaffected. Yet even this dreadful condition did not preclude calculation : to save the expense of supporting slaves rendered unsaleable. and to obtain grounds for a claim against the underwriters, thirty-sir of the negroes, having become blind, were thrown into the sea and drowned!

In the midst of their dreadful fears Jest the solitary individual, whose sight remained unatkcted, should also be seized with the malady, a sail was discovered. It was the Spanish slaver, Leon. The same disease had been there; and, horrible to tell, all the crew had become blind! Unable to assist each other, the vessels parted. The Spanish ship has never since been heard of.' The Rodeur reached Gundaloupe on the 21st of June; the only man who had escaped the disease, and had thus been enabled lo steer the slaver into port, caught it in three days after its arrival. -Speech of N. Benjamin Constant, in the French Chamber of Deputies, June 17, 1820.

- Overboard with them, shipmates !"

Cutlass and dirk were plied ; Fetter'd and blind, one after one,

Plunged down the vessel's side. The sabre smote above

Beneath, the lean shark lay, Waiting with wide and bloody jaw

His quick and human prey.

God of the earth! what cries

Rang upward unto Thee ? Voices of agony and blood,

From ship-deck and from sea. The last dull plunge was heard

The last wave caught its stainAnd the unsated shark look'd up

For human hearts in vain.

" All ready ?” cried the captain;

· Ay, ay!” the seamen said ;
“ Heave up the worthless lubbers-

The dying and the dead.”
Up from the slave-ship's prison

Fierce, bearded heads were thrust« Now let the sharks look to it-

Toss up the dead ones first !"

Red glow'd the Western waters

The setting sun was there, Scattering alike on wave and cloud

His fiery mesh of hair. Amidst a group in blindness,

A solitary eye Gazed, from the burden'd slaver's deck,

Into that burning sky.

Corpse after corpse came up, –

Death had been busy there; Where every blow is mercy,

Why should the Spoiler spare ? Corpse after corpse they cast

Sullenly from the ship, Yet bloody with the traces

Of fetter-Jink and whip.

- A storm," spoke out the gazer,

• Is gathering and at handCurse on't-I'd give my other eye

For one firm rood of land.” And then he laugh'd—but only

His echord langh repliedFor the blinded and the suffering

Alone were at his side.

Gloomily stood the captain,

With his arms upon his breast, With his cold brow sternly knotted,

And his iron lip compress’d. " Are all the dead dogs over ?"

Growl'd through that matted lip6. The blind ones are no better, Let's lighten the good ship."

Night settled on the waters,

And on a stormy heaven, While fiercely on that lone ship's track

The thunder.gust was driven.

“THE ONE IDEA."

BY SARAH JANE CLARKE.

“ We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ”

Our glorious one Idea!

From the source of life it came, And it shineth far and mounteth high,

An ever living flame.

Our wives, our girls, of "One Idea!”

In each devoted mind
It dwells in beauty and in power,

Like a deity enshrined.
They are no slavish devotees,

Cloistered in gloom and night, Their life is like a morn in May,

Flowers, dew, and warm sunlight :
The flowers of good and modest deeds,

The dew of generous love,
The sunlight of that perfect peace

Which cometh from above.
They have that strong, brave, soaring hope

Which true-soul freedom brings, That earnest, fearless, fervent faith,

In all good, blessed things!
That beautiful, impassioned love,

That worship of the truth,
That flings around their fleeting years,

Immortal bloom and youth.

Then let it burn! what mortal hand

Its fiery wing shall bind ? For it hath reached the moral wastes,

The prairies of the mind !

It sweepeth off the wild, rank growth

Of prejudice anl wrong, As, fanned by mighty viewless wings,

It rolls and leaps along !

Our men are men of " One Idea!"

Ah, thou must elsewhere turn For gloomy and unsocial churls,

Ascetics hard and stern

So far beneath their lofty gaze

Rank's vain distinctions lie, They could stand before a crowned queen

And look her in the eye,

Their foes, like pirates half o'ercome,

Stand fierce and stern at bay, Or like a sullen convict gang,

Go scowling on their way ;

But as to some high festival,

Our glad band sweeps alongAnd now rings out a joyous laugh,

And now peels out a song! Their steeps keep time to freedom's march,

Sounding within the soul,
And high, and broad, and startling truths

Their daring hands unroll,
And rear with bold, exulting shouts,

Aloft in freedom's air,
Till they float before a gazing world

As glorious banners, there!

Then cringe beneath each lightning glance

Their proud eyes on thee fling, As in their souls the “ One Idea"

Unfurls its flashing wing ! Now blessed Father of us all,

God of the bond and free!
Regard in mercy still our foes,

The foes of liberty!
Lead them from error's labyrinth,

To tread the paths of right-
Pour on their poor benighted minds,

Truth's clear and perfect light!
Oh! break upon the sleep of death

That wraps their moral powersBreathe in them as a living soul,

This « One Idea” of ours !