a stable, in a narrow, filthy alley-a family turned into the street by officers on a distress warrant, and preparing to pass the night on their bedding under an open skythese are incidents which I have seen here and of which any other city would doubtless afford parallels. The fact is most palpable that a large portion of the human race exist among us, as they have long done here and elsewhere, in a state of suffering from destitution, and that this destitution is rather increasing than diminishing. I have been some thirteen years a resident of this city, during which its population, wealth and business have nearly doubled. During that time hundreds of valuable inventions have been perfected, knowledge has been widely diffused, and the efficiency of human labor increased. But Society rests on the same substratum of abject poverty and misery as at first; the needs of the poor are as great and their earnings as scanty; dense ignorance and terrible depravity are as rife as ever within the shadow of our two hundred churches; and all goes on as though Man had utterly abjured faith in the prophecies that wretchedness and wrong are ultimately to be banished from earth by the prevalence of Religion and Love.

And here let me clear up a point on which we Reformers have ever been grossly misapprehended and misrepresented. Such emphasis is laid by us on the prevalence of destitution and want-so prominent in our inculcations is the necessity of doing something for the relief of the suffering-that many rush to the conclusion that we have no higher aim than the cure of Physical ills -the dispensation of bread and clothes and shelter. But / 'this is a grave mistake. We do indeed deplore and primarily struggle against the prevalence of hunger and nakedness, but this not merely because they are evils in themselves, but because their existence is incompatible with intellectual expansion and moral growth. How can you expect goodness and moral beauty of the child born and nurtured in a cheerless hovel, struggling from infancy to repress the gnawings of famine, early sent out among strangers to earn or glean something wherewith to eke out a subsistence? How shall the father, the mother, whose daily thought and nightly dream are of the rent which cannot and yet must be paid, the wages too scanty yet likely

to be withheld, find time and means to rightly discipline the minds and mould the hearts of their children? How shall we expect Religion, Benevolence, with all holy and lofty affections, to take root and flourish in homes from which comfort and even the hope of attaining it are utterly excluded? No, it is not that we regard bread as the end of existence, but because we feel that the famishing must be fed before they can effectively be taught, that we demand some social basis which shall secure a modicum of physical comfort to every child of Adam.

II. Brief indeed is the space I have left for constructive hints on the practicability of a true and genial Reform of Society, but for the sympathizing a little will suffice, and to others much would be urged to no purpose. Whoever has contemplated, studied with interest, a community of Shakers, so called, must have been struck with the evidence that, in spite of their unnatural but not at all dangerous asceticism, they have solved some of the deepest problems which have engaged the human mind. They have abolished Slavery, or that condition in which one department of labor, and that the most arduous, is less honored and more meagrely rewarded than other labors. In what other community do you find human servitude but a reminiscence? Compare the relation in which these men stand to each other with that which prevails in your Boston Society, or in our New York, where I meet Christian families going to church on Sunday in their chariots, with coachmen and outriders in livery to wait while they worship, leaving half a dozen more human conveniences at home to cook their dinner. Can I help asking, Is this Christianity? But my hasty judgment does wrong. These are well-meaning and often pious people, and give liberally for the spread of the Gospel and the relief of the Poor. It is not they but the Social system which raises some men on the degradation of others which should attract our earnest efforts for its renovation.

I have instanced the Shakers, because their persistence and their eccentricities have rendered them far more generally known than any other class of Socialists. They, too, have fairly conquered prejudice to this extent, that no man now pretends that their enterprise is not, in an economical sense, perfectly successful. They have no paupers, though

they have raised many from pauperism, and they were not far above it any of them, at the outset. They are a people who have, by a Social innovation, vanquished Pauperism and Servitude, twin curses of Humanity and the reproach of Christendom. To the Shakers, if they observed it, the Eucharist would be no form but a living reality; to them the Church is a substance not a shadow. The primitive disciples who had all things in common,' and gave to every one as he had need,' would find here some resemblance to their own divinely instituted church at Jerusalem.

But the Shakers are not alone in this triumph. I believe those true and noble followers of Christ, the Moravians, were their predecessors in Socialism. Others are rapidly following. The community led by Mr. Rapp, located at Economy, near Pittsburgh, Pa., is now forty years old. It began in poverty and has passed through many severe ordeals. It never condemned Marriage and has no Religious test of fellowship. It still endures, and is now wealthy and flourishing. The community of Germans at Zoar, Ohio, is now some twenty-five years old. Commencing in abject poverty, and for a season preserved from starvation or dispersion by charity, and obliged to decree a temporary separation of the sexes (which was maintained for ten years) because of their extreme destitution, this little band has persevered until it is now wealthy and in the enjoyment of every physical comfort. A division of its effects would give every family an independence. But they do not wish to divide nor talk of it. They know they are happier as they are. Here, too, Pauperism and Slavery have no abiding-place.

Need I speak of the recent beginnings at Brook Farm, Northampton, Hopedale, and elsewhere? These are too young to be yet spoken of with confidence. They doubtless embody many imperfections, as all preceding attempts had done. Any or all of them may fail, unlike those of which I have spoken. What then? The effort to extricate the mass of mankind from the mountain of Social evils under which they groan is deserving of the admiration of all generous hearts. Every such effort, impelled by the right spirit, must be of great and lasting benefit to mankind. It may not secure a personal, palpable success, but the record

of its failure will teach men how to avoid its errors, and it will be worth more to the Race than the success of any conqueror from Nimrod to Wellington.

No, the general effort for a Social Reform cannot fail. This or that plan may, on trial be found defective-Fourierism, Communism, or any 'similar scheme,' may require amendment to adapt it to the promotion of the well-being of Man. The great end to be obtained is the abolition of Servitude except for Crime and of Pauperism save for those (and they are very few) whom the Providence of God has deprived of the means of earning a livelihood. This, Society as it has come down to us has not done and cannot do; this, Socialism, rude and imperfect as are the 'schemes' by which it has been thus far directed, has done, is doing. Though we believe not the message, we must believe the works. They will make themselves respected. Not as a new religion, not as the amendment of an old one, but as the application of Christianity to the Social relations of mankind, does the cause of Association challenge the consideration and support of all followers of Christ. Despite the errors of its advocates and the prejudices of its opposers, it will yet vindicate its claims to universal approval and adoption.

Respectfully yours,

New York, Feb. 1, 1845.

HORACE GReeley.

ART. XIII.

The Minstrel's Curse.

From the German of Uhland.

THERE stood in olden ages a tower so high and grand,
It shone far o'er the valleys to the blue sea's rocky strand;
Around it sprang fresh fountains, by glittering rainbows crowned,
And gardens, rich in blossoms, like garlands spanned them round.

There sat a haughty Monarch, in land and conquests rich;
Pale sat he on his throne, like a statue in a niche;

All that he thought was terror, all that he looked was rage,
His words were fearful scourges, and blood filled every page!

Once went to this grand castle a noble minstrel pair;
One shone with golden ringlets, and one with silvery hair;
The old grey-headed Harper a gallant steed bestrode,
And on the flank, well-mounted, his blooming comrade rode.
The elder to the younger said, "Be ready now, my son!
Our deepest airs remember, 'cord to the fullest tone!
In songs of love and sorrow we'll blend our mightiest art,
For it must be our aim to-day to move the King's stern heart!"

Already stand the minstrels in the pillared hall of pride,
Where on the throne are seated the Monarch and his Bride;
The King fearfully splendid, like the bloody Northern lights,
The Queen as sweet and gentle as the moon on summer nights.
Then struck the aged Minstrel his harp with hand so skilled,
That rich and ever richer on the ear its music swelled;
And now, in heavenly sweetness, the Young Man's strains begin,
While like a dull ghost-chorus, the Old Man's song flows in.
They sing of Spring and Friendship, of the blissful golden time,
Of Freedom and man's Dignity, of Truth and Faith sublime;
They sing of all the sweetness that trembles through man's breast,
Of all the scorn that maddens him, and breaks his spirit's rest.

The band of circling courtiers forgot each sneering word,
The King's old valiant warriors bowed low their hearts to God;
The Queen, dissolved in sorrow, and by thrilling joy opprest,
Threw, smiling, toward the minstrels the rose from her white breast.
"You have bewitched my people, will you now seduce my Bride?"
Raved the King, his whole frame shaking in his fury and his pride;
He hurled his sword, that gleaming, through the Young Man's bosom

swept,

Whence, in place of golden music, the crimson blood outleapt.

While from this frightful tumult the listening crowd retired,
The golden-haired young Minstrel in his Master's arms expired.
Then he wrapt him in his mantle, and sat him on the steed,
And from the stately castle set forth in silent speed.

Yet at the high gate halting, his harp the Old Man grasped;
It was the prize of all harps that ever Minstrel clasped;
Against a marble column he dashed it in his wrath,
And sent his curses fearfully through hall and garden-path.

"Wo be to thee proud castle! No sweet sounds e'er again
Shall ring along thine arches, of harp or minstrel strain;
But groans, and creeping slave-steps that dread the tyrant's frown,
Until to mould and ruins the Avenger tread thee down!

"Wo be to you, ye gardens, in the sweet, soft light of May!
Here, look on this grim visage, this pale, disfigured clay!
That henceforth ye may wither, your gushing founts run dry,
And stones and broken columns o'er all your beauty lie!