Dear Douglass:—My friend John Pierpont has sent me these lines. You will be glad to print them. Gerrit Smith.

THE SLAVE-CATCHER.

Children of the Pilgrim flock,

Off-shoots from the Pilgrim stock,

Planted first on Plymouth Rock,

By the surging main!

When upon that shore they dwelt,

When upon that rock they knelt,

Would those men have lived, and felt

Slavery's galling chain!

When they all were kneeling there,

And the incense of their prayer

Rose upon the frosty air.

From a wigwam's shade

Had they heard the savage call,

"Hunt us down that fleeing thrall!

Seize and hold him, each and all!"

Would they have obeyed?

Had they done it, would they dare

Kneel again and breathe a prayer

To the God they worshipped there?

Had they prayed, would HE,

Who their steps had thither led,

Who his guardian wing had spread

Over their defenceless head,

On the wintery sea.

His all-gracious ear have bowed?

Had they called on him aloud,

Would the column and the cloud,

Once to Israel given,

Have descended, as their guide

Through those forests, dark and wide,

Where to thee, O God, they cried,

And were heard of Heaven?

Hark! that savage call we hear!

Now 'tis ringing in our ear!

See! the panting thrall is near!

Shall we play the hound?

Shall we join the unleashed pack,

Yelping on a brother's track?

Shall we seize and drag him back,

Fainting, bleeding, bound?

Yes, when we're in love with chains!

Yes, when, in our dastard veins,

Not a drop of blood remains

From those Pilgrim men!

Yes, when we our back shall strip,

That what blood we have may drip

For the lordlings of the whip,

Then, and not till then.