Rev. A.D.  Mayo, of Albany, is one of those clergymen who believe that a religious teacher has something to do with questions affecting public morality; and his preaching is eloquent, because he is fearlessly obedient to his own convictions.  In a Sermon on the Fugitive Slave Bill, he said:—­“Remember that despotism has no natural rights on earth that any man is bound to respect.  I know there is no political party, no Christian sect, no Northern State, as a whole, yet fully up to this.  But the Christian sentiment of the country will finally bring us all to the same conclusion.”

NO SLAVE HUNT IN OUR BORDERS!

  What asks the Old Dominion?  If now her sons have proved
  False to their fathers’ memory, false to the faith they loved;
  If she can scoff at Freedom, and its Great Charter spurn,
  Must we of Massachusetts from truth and duty turn?

We hunt your bondmen, flying from Slavery’s hateful hell? Our voices, at your bidding, take up the blood-hound’s yell? We gather, at your summons, above our fathers’ graves, From Freedom’s holy altar-horns to tear your wretched slaves?

  Thank God! not yet so vilely can Massachusetts bow,
  The spirit of her early time is with her even now. 
  Dream not, because her Pilgrim blood moves slow, and calm, and cool,
  She thus can stoop her chainless neck, a sister’s slave and tool!

  For ourselves and for our children, the vow which we have given
  For Freedom and Humanity, is registered in Heaven. 
  No slave-hunt in our borders!  No pirate on our strand! 
  No fetters in the Bay State!  No slave upon our land!

  J.G.  WHITTIER.

THE HIGHER LAW.

Man was not made for forms, but forms for man; And there are times when Law itself must bend To that clear spirit, that hath still outran The speed of human justice.  In the end, Potentates, not Humanity, must fall.  Water will find its level; fire will burn; The winds must blow around this earthly ball; This earthly ball by day and night must turn.  Freedom is typed in every element.  Man must be free!  If not through law, why then Above the law! until its force be spent, And justice brings a better.  When, O, when, Father of Light! shall the great reckoning come, To lift the weak, and strike the oppressor dumb?

  C.P.  CRANCH.

ON THE SURRENDER OF A FUGITIVE SLAVE.

  Look on who will in apathy, and stifle, they who can,
  The sympathies, the hopes, the words, that make man truly man;
  Let those whose hearts are dungeoned up, with interest or with ease,
  Consent to hear, with quiet pulse, of loathsome deeds like these. 
  I first drew in New England’s air, and from her hardy breast
  Sucked in the tyrant-hating milk, that will not let me rest;
  And if my words seem treason to the dullard and the tame,
  ’Tis but my Bay State dialect—­our fathers spake the same.