THE REMEDY. 771 



dust of the block, a new martyr to freedom will spring 

 into birth! 



"The British king may blot out the stars of God from 

 His sky, but he can not blot out His words written on the 

 parchment there. The work of God may perish. His 

 word, never! 



* * These words will go forth to the world when our 

 bones are dust. To the slave in bondage, they will speak 

 hope; to the mechanic in his workshop, freedom; to the 

 coward kings these words will speak, but not in tones of 

 flattery. They will speak like the flaming syllables on 

 Belshazzar's wall: 'The days of your pride and glory are 

 numbered! The day of judgment draws near!' 



4 * Yes, that parchment will speak to kings in language 

 sad and terrible as the trumpet of the Archangel. You 

 have trampled on the rights of mankind long enough. At 

 last the voice of human woe has pierced the ear of God, 

 and called his judgment down. You have waded on to 

 thrones through seas of blood; you have trampled on to 

 power over the necks of millions; you have turned the 

 poor man's sweat and blood into robes for your delicate 

 forms; into crowns for your annointed brows. Now, pur- 

 pled hangmen of the world! For you comes the day of 

 axes, and gibbets, and scaffolds; for you the wrath of man; 

 for you the lightning of God! 



* * Look how the light of your palaces on fire flashes up 

 into the midnight sky! Now, purpled hangmen of the 

 world, turn and beg for mercy! Where will you find it? 

 Not from God ; for you have blasphemed His laws ! Not from 

 the people, for you stand baptized in their blood! Here 

 you turn, and lo! a gibbet! There, and a scaffold stares 

 you in the face! All around you death, but nowhere pity! 

 Now, executioners of the human race, kneel down yes, 

 kneel down on the sawdust of the scaffold; lay your per- 



