FOR FREDERICK DOUGLASS' PAPER.

LETTERS FROM THE OLD WORLD.

Number XXIX.

STRATFORD GREEN, Aug. 25th, 1856.

MY DEAR FRIEND:—I am recruiting my health, and refreshing my spirits, among dear, old friends, on the borders of the Forest. I had a fine drive from Wanstead, on Saturday evening, to this pretty place; and as we traversed a portion of the wild and far out-stretching Forest-ranges, it was somewhat difficult to realize the fact that we were within ten miles of the noisy, busy metropolis. A warm greeting, and happy had I at Wanstead, with true and friends, whom I had not met for more than seven years. How rapidly flitted Time, as we discoursed of "," and of those beloved ones, ("not lost, but gone before,") who shall cheer us no more with their loving looks, and accents of affection, until the morn of the resurrection.

How pure! how sacred! how beautiful! how ennobling a thing is Friendship! thought I, as I laid my head on my pillow that night; it stands the test of time and space, unchangeable. I like s delineation of this greatest sweetener of our existence. "By friendship," he says, "I suppose you mean the greatest love, and the greatest usefulness, and the most open communication, and the noblest suffereings, and the most exemplary faithfulness, and the severest truth, and the heartiest counsel, and the greatest union of minds of which men and women are capable." Weighed in these balances of the great and sterling Jeremy Taylor, it may be that a good many sort of (so-called) friendships would kick the beam; yet, to dignify these ephemeral acquaintances with the name of is absurd in the extreme.

I went over "," while at Wanstead, and was intensely interested. Into this noble Institution are received between four and five hundred orphan children.—They are admitted form the tender age of one month, to seven years, and are permitted to remain in the Asylum until the age of fifteen.—One hundred of the senior boys and girls were absent, for their summer holidays; but it was a fine sight to behold the three hundred and thirty children, who were present, dining together in a splendid Hall of the Institution, and very touching was it to hear their infant voices offer

ing up the hymn of praise to that Heavenly Father, who has spread before them such bounteous [illegible] and raised up for them kind, Christian [illegible] this their truly beautiful home. I [illegible] the tables, and did not see one [illegible] child in the establishment.—[illegible] cheeked, chubby, merry-look[ing?] [illegible] met my view any [illegible] escorted me over the [illegible] popular with the [illegible] invitation to tea
[illegible] by divers [illegible] bright smiles [illegible] that "Order [illegible] been borne i [illegible] [establish?] [illegible] felt on all [illegible] vain- [illegible] of the Institution owe a debt of gratitude that never can be paid for raising it to its present lofty and commanding eminence. It is only twenty-five years ago, that a few little orphan children were gathered together, in a small dwelling in the Hackney Road, and there sheltered, for a brief season, from the storms of life; but at the early age of they had to quit this temporary asylum, and except the patronage of friends could then procure them admission to "," (where seven is the age of admission,) nothing more could be done for them. With genuine Christian philanthropy, rare devotion and wondrous assiduity, has Mr. Buckler labored for five and twenty years in behalf of these infant orphan children; and now within a quarter mile of the petty little Lake, at Snaresbrook, a magnificent edifice, Elizabethan in architecture, and surrounded by beautiful grounds, that slope down to the water's edge, attracts the gaze of all travellers through that region of country; and they eagerly enquire, "What gentleman's seat is that?" "Who lives at that fine place?" They are told that between four and five hundred orphans, and fifty nurses, teachers, and other necessary officers of the establishment live there. Over the chimney piece of the spacious Committee room, may been seen a Portrait, finely painted, by Briggs; the leading characteristics of the countenance pourtrayed, are benevolence and intense earnestness. "True to the life," said I on looking on it. It is the Portrait of him who

may in truth, be deemed the founder of this great and glorious Institution, and from generaation to generation will the happy, healthy, well trained, well taught children, here, "rise up to call him blessed." The day was delightfully fine, and very pleasant was the afternoon's ramble through the grounds, and our intercourse with the little ones, whom we met in different directions, playing about, in the care of their nurses or teachers. The group of babies, (all under two,) some being drawn in little waggons others being carried, more running about, especially engaged my attention; how they jumped and danced, and held out their tiny hands, with glee, as the were showered, by a beauteous Hebe, among them. Another pleasing group was that which comprized about thirty little boys, (called ,) who were playing about on the margin of the Lake, and watching a boat as it neared the shore, as if in hopes of making friends with the man who rowed it, and keeping him company. Then we saw the little invalid children, (only three in number,) taking the air on this sunny afternoon, but so carefully tended and so warmly wrapped up. Oh! it was indeed, good to be here, and to see what Christian philanthropy can effect. I was again and again assured that I "saw the children to great disadvantage, as it was ;" but I was wholly unconscious of this "disadvantage," for their dresses were not only neat and clean, but very pretty—the pink and blue ginghams forming a tasteful variety of color, and adding much to the loveliness of the scene, as the little creatures who wore them sported about on the emerald green grass, and beneath the shady trees.

I shall not soon forget my interesting visit to Wanstead.

Yesterday I went to West Ham church, where several members of the Fry and Gurney families attended service; but Sir Edward North Buxton was not there. I regret much to learn that his extremely delicate state of health has again compelled him to quit England for a more genial climate.

I have just returned from a pleasant drive and walk in the large and fine Cemetery in this neighborhood. No more interments take place in those dark, dreary, dingy, dismal, old church yards of the metropolis; but quiet, peaceful resting places, for the dead, are found in beautiful cemeteries, which may now be seen on every side of London. Here, beneath the grassy covering, with which "flowers of the forest" mingle, they "sleep the sleep that knows no waking"—while the hazel, the lime, the chestnut, and the birch gently wave over them,

and wild birds sweetly chant their requiem.—As far as they BODY is concerned, it seems to me, that death is disarmed of half is terrors, when the terribel necessity of having to be cooped up in one of those ancient prison-houses of the old , is removed from us. Yet, this is all farciful and imaginative, affecting us, in reality, far more as it regards the friends who go before us, than ourselves— for

—while the mould ring ashes sleep
Low in the ground,
The soul, of origin divine,
God's glorious image freed from day,
In heav'n's eternal sphere shall shine
A star of day.

~~~~~~~~~

GOLDLAY HOUSE, Chelmsford, Sept. 12

I regret very much the delay that has taken place with regard to this letter; but, I have been much visited of late by an , in the form of nervous head-ache, which, together with a severe cold on my chest, has made me much of an invalid, and compelled me to be far more idle than is my wont.

I had the gratification yesterday of meeting "," and "" of Chlemsford, and of having a long and interesting conversation with the ladies present on the subject of Slavery, as it now exists in America. In common with other , the one here has since the abolition of Slavery in our own Colonies, devoted most of its means to aiding the Negro Schools in the West Indies. This is a good work; but I sincerely trust that the benovelent ladies who comprize these several Societies, will see that there is a way wherein they can greatly aid the struggling friends of the slave in the United States. I they now see this, for they have already given some proof that this is the case, and I accept it, hopefully, as an of the future aid, and co-operation, which are promised to the Rochester Bazaar. One of the most active, earnest and influential philanthropic ladies in Chelmsford has given her name as receiver of contributions for our Bazaar in time to come; and although it is too late in the season for pretty things to be made there in time for the coming winter, the Rochester friends may rely on aid from this section of the country in the future.

I have been more or less in DRED, during the last two days, and so have bene several of the friends around me. Two ministers, with whom I was in company last evening, were discussing the merits of the book during supper, and one of them was quite excited on the subject, and very warm in his eulogisms. So far as

I am able to judge, I do not think there is that unanimity in opinion, respecting it, that existed with regard to . But DRED circulates widely—none the less, because some of the Reviewers have cut it up very severely —for there must be always an intense desire to read what is abused and condemned, or people would not read, and abuse the "," by turns in the amusing way they do.

Since the news crossed the Atlantic of the disgraceful attack, made upon the noble Senator SUMNER, Slavery has been, more or less, [trending?] subject of conversation, every where that I have travelled in Great Britain; and now that the Presidential eleciton is approaching, John Bull (so far as I understand that honest man) is sincerely desirous that Brother Jonathan should no longer "play such fantastic tricks before high heaven as make e'en angels weep," but put forth a vigorous effort, and rigth himself at once in the eyes of all the nations of the earth.

The news reaches us, by the last mail, from the States, that the supplies were not voted; this looks as if the North was in earnest, and determined to resist, resolutely, Southern tyranny; yet as I see that the President convenes a new Congress, I greatly fear the present victory of the friends of freedom will be short lived, and the supplies are voted ere this. I tremble for the friends of freedom in Kansas, and for what they may be called to suffer before the wicked PIERCE'S reign of terror is ended. An awful crisis seems to be at hand. One need be no prophet, nor son of a prophet, to predict that the cherished in institution of the South is doomed—and whether its end be calm and peaceful, or violent and struggling, , sooner or later.

How sorry I am for all those Abolitionists who can't see their way to vote at the coming election. It is a grievous mistake; and were it not that the "impracticables," (as a wise Scotch friend of mine calls the,) are few in number, they would leave a great breach in the ranks of Freedom's hosts.

During all the time that the name of our ever venerated and dearly loved friend, GERRIT SMITH, stood at the top of your columns, the question was asked of me, by numbers of my English and Scotch friends, "Is there any of Mr. Smith being elected President?" and when I was compelled to say "No" they rejoined, "then throw away votes and weaken the forces of freedom by dividing?"—"Why not insure the victory by unanimously voting for FREMONT?" When these queries

were put to me, I felt much as I should think a Lawyer does, when he's pleading a case that's opposed to by him own convictions; so I made a lame defense for the of the Liberty Party—a party whose principles are pure and beautiful; but about principles avail little without any matter o' fact -speculative Englishmen and Scotchmen, who (though many among them take entirely the ground occupied by the Radical Abolitionists, that ) believe in securing the for President, and then in never ceasing to labor in bring him up to a higher standard than the one he now occupies.

There is no man in the whole United States that I should so much delight to see President as the Hon. Gerrit Smith of Peterboro. He would confer the honor of the office. That office could confer no honor on him. But as there is a wide space between Franklin Pierce and Gerrit Smith and the people cannot, at once, be educated to take the leap from the dark abyss in which they have been grovelling, to that lofty height where, with feet firmly planted on eternal principles, and the light of God's countenance shining on his brow, stands the man of Peterboro, they must have steps of ascent mad for them, . Surely, when they have taken the first upward step, the climbing will become more easy. I fervently hope, meanwhile, that FREMONT will be the next President. Had I a thousand votes at command, I would give them to him, at the risk of the frowns of my good friend, , for whose honesty of opinion I have great respect.

By the way, my friend, I (in common with many others of your friends on this side of the Atlantic) regret that when you need every weapon within your reach, and all the ammunition you can secure for carrying on the war with Slavery, you should waste powder and shot in firing back upon any of the of the friends of freedom even though you may them to be traitors in the camp and see them hurling their poisoned arrows at you. There is who has said, "No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper," and will vindicate the right.

The season is quite cool. Our hot summer weather departed as suddenly as it came—thermometers falling 25 degrees in 36 or 48 hours. Beautiful gardens abound in this locality; rich and fine evergreens meet the eye on all sides—bright scarlet geraniums, blue lobelias, yellow

calciolarias, and many colored asters make the flower beds gay and gorgeous.

The lady I am visiting has my for collecting , in sports of interest, and bring it home, as a reminiscence of the place visited; but, while my sprays of heather, from Loch Katrine, have somewhat faded, she boasts of two beauteous little heathers, she brought from the same Loch, growing vigorous and strong in her garden, and beside them, flourish a heather from , and another from —and now she has just introduced one from the , to keep the company. These all dwell together, in harmony, in a sunny spot; and though their complexions differ form one another, and the respective lands of their birth are wide asunder, one need be no florist, or botanist, to discern that they all belong to family— the family of —just as the Anglo-Saxon, the Celt, the Malay, and the Negro all belong to one family of MAN. When will that happy day dawn on this fair earth, in which

"Brother shall not war with brother
An worry and devour each other
But sing and shine with sweet content
Till life's poor transient night is spent?"

Every yours, most truly,

JULIA GRIFFITHS.